at he could not be worse off
than he was, he told him he might go if he would, so they set off
together.
I could never find out how little Dick contrived to get meat and drink
on the road, nor how he could walk so far, for it was a long way, nor
what he did at night for a place to lie down to sleep in. Perhaps some
good-natured people in the towns that he passed through, when they saw
he was a poor little ragged boy, gave him something to eat; and perhaps
the wagoner let him get into the wagon at night and take a nap upon one
of the boxes or large parcels in the wagon.
Dick, however, got safe to London and was in such a hurry to see the
fine streets paved all over with gold that I am afraid he did not even
stay to thank the kind wagoner, but ran off as fast as his legs would
carry him through many of the streets, thinking every moment to come to
those that were paved with gold, for Dick had seen a guinea three times
in his own little village and remembered what a deal of money it brought
in change; so he thought he had nothing to do but to take up some little
bits of the pavement and should then have as much money as he could wish
for.
Poor Dick ran till he was tired and had quite forgotten his friend the
wagoner; but at last, finding it grow dark and that every way he turned
he saw nothing but dirt instead of gold, he sat down in a dark corner
and cried himself to sleep.
Little Dick was all night in the streets; and next morning, being very
hungry, he got up and walked about and asked everybody he met to give
him a halfpenny to keep him from starving. But nobody stayed to answer
him, and only two or three gave him a halfpenny; so that the poor boy
was soon quite weak and faint for the want of victuals.
At last a good-natured looking gentleman saw how hungry he looked. "Why
don't you go to work, my lad?" said he to Dick.
"That I would, but I do not know how to get any," answered Dick.
"If you are willing, come along with me," said the gentleman, and took
him to a hay-field, where Dick worked briskly and lived merrily till the
hay was made.
After this he found himself as badly off as before; and being almost
starved again, he laid himself down at the door of Mr. Fitzwarren, a
rich merchant. Here he was soon seen by the cook-maid, who was an
ill-tempered creature and happened just then to be very busy dressing
dinner for her master and mistress; so she called out to poor Dick:
"What business have you the
|