bear to see Nanny fighting for it, especially with such a poor
fellow as has taken it. He's quite lame, sir."
"She doesn't look much like fighting, now, does she, Diamond?"
"No, sir. She looks too like an angel. Angels don't fight--
do they, sir?"
"Not to get things for themselves, at least," said Mr. Raymond.
"Besides," added Diamond, "I don't quite see that she would have
any better right to the crossing than the boy who has got it.
Nobody gave it to her; she only took it. And now he has taken it."
"If she were to sweep a crossing--soon at least--after the illness
she has had, she would be laid up again the very first wet day,"
said Mr. Raymond.
"And there's hardly any money to be got except on the wet days,"
remarked Diamond reflectively. "Is there nothing else she
could do, sir?"
"Not without being taught, I'm afraid."
"Well, couldn't somebody teach her something?"
"Couldn't you teach her, Diamond?"
"I don't know anything myself, sir. I could teach her to dress the,
baby; but nobody would give her anything for doing things like that:
they are so easy. There wouldn't be much good in teaching
her to drive a cab, for where would she get the cab to drive?
There ain't fathers and old Diamonds everywhere. At least poor
Nanny can't find any of them, I doubt."
"Perhaps if she were taught to be nice and clean, and only speak
gentle words"
"Mother could teach her that," interrupted Diamond.
"And to dress babies, and feed them, and take care of them,"
Mr. Raymond proceeded, "she might get a place as a nurse somewhere,
you know. People do give money for that."
"Then I'll ask mother," said Diamond.
"But you'll have to give her her food then; and your father,
not being strong, has enough to do already without that."
"But here's me," said Diamond: "I help him out with it. When he's tired
of driving, up I get. It don't make any
difference to old Diamond.
I don't mean he likes me as well as my father--of course he can't,
you know--nobody could; but he does his duty all the same.
It's got to be done, you know, sir; and Diamond's a good horse--
isn't he, sir?"
"From your
description I should say certainly; but I have not
the pleasure of his
acquaintance myself."
"Don't you think he will go to heaven, sir?"
"That I don't know anything about," said Mr. Raymond. "I confess
I should be glad to think so," he added, smiling thoughtfully.
"I'm sure he'll get to the back of the north wind, anyhow,"
said Diamond to himself; but he had
learned to be very careful
of
saying such things aloud.
"Isn't it rather too much for him to go in the cab all day
and every day?" resumed Mr. Raymond.
"So father says, when he feels his ribs of a morning. But then he
says the old horse do eat well, and the moment he's had his supper,
down he goes, and never gets up till he's called; and, for the legs
of him, father says that makes no end of a
differ. Some horses, sir! they
won't lie down all night long, but go to sleep on their four pins,
like a haystack, father says. I think it's very
stupid of them,
and so does old Diamond. But then I suppose they don't know better,
and so they can't help it. We mustn't be too hard upon them,
father says."
"Your father must be a good man, Diamond." Diamond looked up
in Mr. Raymond's face, wondering what he could mean.
"I said your father must be a good man, Diamond."
"Of course," said Diamond. "How could he drive a cab if he wasn't?"
"There are some men who drive cabs who are not very good,"
objected Mr. Raymond.
Diamond remembered the
drunken cabman, and saw that his friend
was right.
"Ah, but," he returned, "he must be, you know, with such a horse
as old Diamond."
"That does make a
difference," said Mr. Raymond. "But it is quite
enough that he is a good man without our
trying to
account for it.
Now, if you like, I will give you a proof that I think him a good man.
I am going away on the Continent for a while--for three months,
I believe--and I am going to let my house to a gentleman who does
not want the use of my brougham. My horse is nearly as old, I fancy,
as your Diamond, but I don't want to part with him, and I don't
want him to be idle; for nobody, as you say, ought to be idle;
but neither do I want him to be worked very hard. Now, it has come
into my head that perhaps your father would take
charge of him,
and work him under certain conditions."
"My father will do what's right," said Diamond. "I'm sure of that."
"Well, so I think. Will you ask him when he comes home to call
and have a little chat with me--to-day, some time?"
"He must have his dinner first," said Diamond. "No, he's got
his dinner with him to-day. It must be after he's had his tea."
"Of course, of course. Any time will do. I shall be at home
all day."
"Very well, sir. I will tell him. You may be sure he will come.
My father thinks you a very kind gentleman, and I know he is right,
for I know your very own self, sir."
Mr. Raymond smiled, and as they had now reached his door,
they parted, and Diamond went home. As soon as his father entered
the house, Diamond gave him Mr. Raymond's message, and recounted
the conversation that had preceded it. His father said little,
but took thought-sauce to his bread and butter, and as soon as he
had finished his meal, rose,
saying:
"I will go to your friend directly, Diamond. It would be a grand thing
to get a little more money. We do want it." Diamond accompanied
his father to Mr. Raymond's door, and there left him.
He was shown at once into Mr. Raymond's study, where he gazed with
some wonder at the
multitude of books on the walls, and thought
what a
learned man Mr. Raymond must be.
Presently Mr. Raymond entered, and after
saying much the same
about his old horse, made the following
distinct proposal--
one not over-
advantageous to Diamond's father, but for which he
had reasons--namely, that Joseph should have the use of Mr. Raymond's
horse while he was away, on condition that he never worked him
more than six hours a day, and fed him well, and that, besides,
he should take Nanny home as soon as she was able to leave
the hospital, and provide for her as one of his own children,
neither better nor worse--so long, that is, as he had the horse.
Diamond's father could not help thinking it a pretty close
bargain.
He should have both the girl and the horse to feed, and only six hours'
work out of the horse.
"It will save your own horse," said Mr. Raymond.
"That is true," answered Joseph; "but all I can get by my own horse
is only enough to keep us, and if I save him and feed your horse
and the girl--don't you see, sir?"
"Well, you can go home and think about it, and let me know
by the end of the week. I am in no hurry before then."
So Joseph went home and recounted the proposal to his wife,
adding that he did not think there was much
advantage to be got
out of it.
"Not much that way, husband," said Diamond's mother; "but there
would be an
advantage, and what matter who gets it!"
"I don't see it," answered her husband. "Mr. Raymond is a gentleman
of property, and I don't discover any much good in helping him to save
a little more. He won't easily get one to make such a
bargain, and I
don't mean he shall get me. It would be a loss rather than a gain--
I do think--at least if I took less work out of our own horse."
"One hour would make a
difference to old Diamond. But that's
not the main point. You must think what an
advantage it would
be to the poor girl that hasn't a home to go to!"
"She is one of Diamond's friends," thought his father.
"I could be kind to her, you know," the mother went on, "and teach
her
housework, and how to handle a baby; and, besides, she would
help me, and I should be the stronger for it, and able to do an odd
bit of charing now and then, when I got the chance."
"I won't hear of that," said her husband. "Have the girl by all means.
I'm
ashamed I did not think of both sides of the thing at once.
I wonder if the horse is a great eater. To be sure, if I gave Diamond
two hours'
additional rest, it would be all the better for the old bones
of him, and there would be four hours extra out of the other horse.
That would give Diamond something to do every day. He could drive
old Diamond after dinner, and I could take the other horse out for
six hours after tea, or in the morning, as I found best. It might
pay for the keep of both of them,--that is, if I had good luck.
I should like to
oblige Mr. Raymond, though he be rather hard,
for he has been very kind to our Diamond, wife. Hasn't he now?"
"He has indeed, Joseph," said his wife, and there the conversation ended.
Diamond's father went the very next day to Mr. Raymond, and accepted
his proposal; so that the week after having got another stall in
the same
stable, he had two horses instead of one. Oddly enough,
the name of the new horse was Ruby, for he was a very red chestnut.
Diamond's name came from a white lozenge on his forehead.
Young Diamond said they were rich now, with such a big diamond and
such a big ruby.
CHAPTER XXX
NANNY'S DREAM
NANNY was not fit to be moved for some time yet, and Diamond went
to see her as often as he could. But being more
regularly engaged now,
seeing he went out every day for a few hours with old Diamond,
and had his baby to mind, and one of the horses to attend to,
he could not go so often as he would have liked.
One evening, as he sat by her
bedside, she said to him:
"I've had such a beautiful dream, Diamond! I should like to tell
it you."
"Oh! do," said Diamond; "I am so fond of dreams!"
"She must have been to the back of the north wind," he said to himself.
"It was a very foolish dream, you know. But somehow it was so pleasant!
What a good thing it is that you believe the dream all the time
you are in it!"
My readers must not suppose that poor Nanny was able to say what she
meant so well as I put it down here. She had never been to school,
and had heard very little else than
vulgar speech until she
came to the hospital. But I have been to school, and although
that could never make me able to dream so well as Nanny, it has
made me able to tell her dream better than she could herself.
And I am the more
desirous of doing this for her that I have already
done the best I could for Diamond's dream, and it would be a shame
to give the boy all the
advantage.
"I will tell you all I know about it," said Nanny. "The day
before
yesterday, a lady came to see us--a very beautiful lady,
and very
beautifully dressed. I heard the
matron say to her that it
was very kind of her to come in blue and gold; and she answered that she
knew we didn't like dull colours. She had such a lovely shawl on,
just like redness dipped in milk, and all worked over with flowers
of the same colour. It didn't shine much, it was silk, but it kept
in the shine. When she came to my
bedside, she sat down, just where
you are sitting, Diamond, and laid her hand on the counterpane.
I was sitting up, with my table before me ready for my tea. Her hand
looked so pretty in its blue glove, that I was tempted to stroke it.
I thought she wouldn't be angry, for everybody that comes to the
hospital is kind. It's only in the streets they ain't kind.
But she drew her hand away, and I almost cried, for I thought I
had been rude. Instead of that, however, it was only that she
didn't like giving me her glove to stroke, for she drew it off,
and then laid her hand where it was before. I wasn't sure, but I
ventured to put out my ugly hand."
"Your hand ain't ugly, Nanny," said Diamond; but Nanny went on--
"And I stroked it again, and then she stroked mine,--think of that!
And there was a ring on her finger, and I looked down to see what it