wonderful breakfast. Five cold rissoles, a
lot of bread and butter, two slices of cake, and a bottle of milk. And
it was fun eating agreeable and unusual things, lying down in the roomy
hamper among the smooth straw. The jolting of the cart did not worry
Dickie at all. He was used to the perambulator; and he ate as much as he
wanted to eat, and when that was done he put the rest in his pocket and
curled up comfortably in the straw, for there was still quite a lot left
of what ordinary people consider night, and also there was quite a lot
left of the sleepiness with which he had gone to bed at the end of the
wonderful day. It was not only just body-sleepiness: the kind you get
after a long walk or a long play day. It was mind-sleepiness--Dickie had
gone through so much in the last thirty-six hours that his poor little
brain felt quite worn out. He fell asleep among the straw, fingering the
clasp-knife in his pocket, and thinking how smartly he would cut the
string when the time came.

[Illustration: "THREE OR FOUR FACES LOOKED DOWN AT DICKIE"

[_Page 70_]

And he slept for a very long time. Such a long time that when he did
wake up there was no longer any need to cut the string of the hamper.
Some one else had done that, and the lid of the basket was open, and
three or four faces looked down at Dickie, and a girl's voice said--

"Why, it's a little boy! And a crutch--oh, dear!" Dickie sat up. The
little crutch, which was lying corner-wise above him in the hamper,
jerked out and rattled on the floor.

"Well, I never did--never!" said another voice. "Come out, dearie; don't
be frightened."

"How kind people are!" Dickie thought, and reached his hands to slender
white hands that were held out to him. A lady in black--her figure was
as slender as her hands--drew him up, put her arms round him, and lifted
him on to a black bentwood chair.

His eyes, turning swiftly here and there, showed him that he was in a
shop--a shop full of flowers and fruit.

"Mr. Rosenberg," said the slender lady--"oh, do come here, please! This
extra hamper----"

A dark, handsome, big-nosed man came towards them.

"It's a dear little boy," said the slender lady, who had a pale, kind
face, dark eyes, and very red lips.

"It'th a practical joke, I shuppothe," said the dark man. "Our gardening
friend wanth a liththon: and I'll thee he getth it."

"It wasn't his fault," said Dickie, wriggling earnestly in his high
chair; "it was my fault.