If I Had a Father

epub:type="z3998:persona">Bill There ain’t, a crossin’ but what’s took. Besides, my legs ain’t put together for one place all day long. It ain’t to be done, Mattie. They can’t do it. Mattie There’s the shoeblack business, then. Bill That ain’t so bad, acause you can shoulder your box and trudge. But if it’s all the same to you, Mattie, I’d rayther enj’y life: they say it’s short. Mattie But it ain’t the same to me. It’s so bad for you to be idle, Bill! Bill Not as I knows on. I’m tollable jolly, so long’s I gets the browns for my bed. Mattie Wouldn’t you like a bed with a blanket to it? Bill Well, yes⁠—if it was guv to me. But I don’t go in for knocking of yourself about, to sleep warm. Mattie Well, look here, Bill. It’s all Susan and I can do to pay for our room, and get a bit of bread and a cup of tea. It ain’t enough.⁠—If you were to earn a few pence now⁠— Bill Oh golly! I never thought o’ that. What a hass I wur, to be sure! I’ll go a shoeblackin’ to-morror⁠—I will. Mattie Did you ever black a shoe, Bill? Bill I tried a boot oncet⁠—when Jim wor a blackin’ for a day or two. But I made nothink on it⁠—nothink worth mentionin’. The blackin’ or som’at was wrong. The gen’leman said it wur coal-dust, an he’d slog me, an’ adwised me to go an’ learn my trade. Mattie And what did you say to that? Bill Holler’d out “Shine yer boots!” as loud as I could holler. Mattie You must try my boots next time you come. Bill This wery night, Mattie. I’ll make ’em shine like plate glass⁠—see then if I don’t. But where’ll I get a box and brushes? Mattie You shall have our brushes and my footstool. Bill I see! Turn the stool upside down, put the brushes in, and carry it by one leg⁠—as drunken Moll does her kid.⁠—Here you are, sir! Black your boots, sir?⁠—Shine your trotters, sir? Bawling. Mattie That’ll do; that’ll do, Bill! Famous! You needn’t do it again holding her ears. Would you like a tart? Bill Just wouldn’t I, then!⁠—Shine your boooooots! Mattie Laughing. Do hold your tongue, Bill. There’s a penny for a tart. Bill Thank you, Mattie. Thank you. Exit into the shop. Jack and Jim Touching their supposed caps. Please, ma’am! Please, ma’am! I likes ’em too. I likes ’em more ’n Bill. Mattie I’m very sorry, but⁠—feeling in her pocket I’ve got a ha’penny, I believe. No⁠—there’s a penny! You must share it, you know. Gives it to Jack. Knocks at Mrs. Clifford’s door. Jack and Jim Thank you, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am. Exit Mattie into Mrs. Clifford’s. Jim Now, Jack, what’s it to be? Jack I believe I shall spend it in St. Martin’s Lane. Jim A ha’p’orth on it’s mine, you know, Jack. Jack Well, you do put the stunners on me! Jim She said we wos to divide it⁠—she did. Jack ’Taint possible. It beats my ivories. He pretends to bite it. Jim flies at him in a rage. Reenter Bill, with his mouth full. Bill Now what are you two a squabblin’ over? Oh! Jack’s got a yennep, and Jim’s iookin’ shirty. Jim She told him to divide it, and he won’t. Bill Who told him? Jim Mattie. Bill You dare, Jack? Hand over. Jack Be hanged if I do. Bill Then do and be hanged. A struggle. There, Jim! Now you go and buy what you like. Jim Am I to give Jack the half? Bill Yes, if our Mattie said it. Jim All right, Bill. Goes into the shop. Jack I owe you one for that, Bill. Bill Owe it me then, Jack. I do like fair play⁠—always did eating. Jack You ain’t a sharin’ of your yennep, Bill. Bill Mattie didn’t say I was to. She knowed one wouldn’t break up into three nohow. ’Tain’t in natur’, Jack. Jack You might ha’ guv me a bite, anyhow, Bill. Bill It ain’t desirable, Jack⁠—size o’ trap dooly considered. Here comes your share. Reenter Jim. Gives a bun to Jack. Jim I tell you what, Bill⁠—she ain’t your Mattie. She ain’t nobody’s Mattie; she’s a hangel. Bill No, Jim, she ain’t a hangel; she ’ain’t got no wings, leastways outside her clo’es, and she ’ain’t got clo’es enough to hide ’em. I wish I wos a hangel! Jack At it again, Bill! I do like to hear Bill a wishin’ of hisself! Why, Bill? Bill Acause they’re never ’ungry. Jack How do you know they ain’t? Bill You never sees ’em loafin’ about nowheres. Jim Is Mattie your sister, Bill? Bill No, Jim; I ain’t good ’nough to have a sister like she. Jack Your sweetheart, Bill? Ha! ha! ha! Bill Dry up, Jack. Jim Tell me about her, Bill. I didn’t jaw you. Bill She lives in our court, Jim. Makes shirts and things. Jack Oh! ho!

Bill hits Jack. Jack doubles himself up.

Bill Jim, our Mattie ain’t like other gals; I never see her out afore this blessed day⁠—upon my word and honour, Jim, never! Jack Wiping his nose with his sleeve. You don’t know a joke from a jemmy, Bill. Bill I’ll joke you!⁠—A hangel tips you a tart, and you plucks her feathers! Get on t’other side of the way, you little dirty devil, or I’ll give you another smeller⁠—cheap too. Off with you! Jack No, Bill; no, please. I’m wery sorry. I ain’t so bad’s all that comes to. Bill If you wants to go with Jim and me, then behave like a gen’leman. Jim I calls our Mattie a brick! Bill None o’ your jaw, Jim! She ain’t your Mattie. Enter Thomas. Thomas Childer, dun yo know th’ way to Paradise⁠—Row, or Road, or summat? Bill Dunnow, sir. You axes at the Sunday-school. Thomas Wheer’s th’ Sunday-school, chylt? Bill Second door round the corner, sir. Thomas Second dur reawnd th’ corner! Which corner, my man? Bill Round any corner. Second door’s all-ways Sunday-school. Takes a sight. Exeunt boys.

Thomas sits down on a doorstep.

Thomas Eh, but aw be main weary! Surely th’ Lord dunnot be a forsakin’ ov mo. There’s that