A CHILD OF THE JAGO
find to say, with tears in her slack eyes. "It 's wicked an'—an' low. An' you must alwis be respectable an' straight, Dicky, an' you'll get on then."
"Straight people 's fools, I reckon. Kiddo Cook says that, an' 'e 's as wide as Broad Street. Wen I grow up I'm goin' to git toff's close an' be in the 'igh mob. They does big clicks."
"They git put in a dark prison for years an' years, Dicky,—an'—an' if you 're sich a wicked low boy, father 'll give you the strap—'ard," the mother returned, with what earnestness she might. "Gimme the baby an' you go to bed; go on, 'fore father comes."
Dicky handed over the baby, whose wizen face was now relaxed in sleep, and slowly disencumbered himself of the ungainly jacket, staring at the wall in a brown study. "It 's the mugs wot git took," he said, absently. "An' quoddin ain't so bad." Then, after a pause, he turned and
15
