Chapter VII.
NELL THE BREAD-WINNER.
Nell slept so long that when she awoke, Mrs. Jarley, wearing her large bonnet, was already preparing breakfast. She heard Nell’s excuses for being late with great good-humour, and said that she should not have roused her if she had slept on until noon.
“Because it does you good,” said the lady of the caravan, “when you’re tired, to sleep as long as ever you can; and that’s another blessing of your time of life—you can sleep so very sound; I can’t, I’m sorry to say.”
Shortly afterwards the child sat down with her grandfather and Mrs. Jarley to breakfast. The meal finished, Nell helped to wash the cups and saucers, and put them in their proper places; and these duties done, Mrs. Jarley dressed herself in a very bright shawl for the purpose of passing through the streets of the town.
“The van will come on to bring the boxes,” said Mrs. Jarley, “and you had better come in it, child. I must walk, very much against my will; but the people expect it of me. How do I look, child?”
Nell at once said that she looked very nice, and Mrs. Jarley went forth with her head in the air.
The caravan followed at no great distance. As it went jolting through the streets, Nell peeped through the window to see in what kind of place they were. It was a pretty large town with an open square, in the middle of which was the town hall, with a clock-tower and a weather-cock.
The streets were very clean, very sunny, very empty, and very dull. Nothing seemed to be going on but the clocks, and they had such drowsy faces, such heavy, lazy hands, that they surely must have been too slow. The very dogs were all asleep; and the flies, drunk with the moist sugar in the grocer’s shop, forgot their wings, and baked to death in dusty corners of the window.
Rumbling along with a great noise, the caravan stopped at last at the place of exhibition. Nell got down amidst a group of children, who clearly thought that her grandfather was one of the wax figures. The chests were quickly taken out and unlocked by Mrs. Jarley, who, with George and another man, was waiting to decorate the room with the hangings from them.
When the festoons were all put up as tastily as might be, the wax-work figures were uncovered and set out on a platform running round the room some two feet from the floor. There they stood more or less unsteadily upon their legs, with their eyes and nostrils very wide open, and their faces bearing a look of great surprise.
When Nell had looked at them all with great delight, Mrs. Jarley ordered the room to be cleared of all but herself and the child. Then sitting herself down in an armchair in the centre, she handed Nell a willow wand, long used by herself for pointing out the characters, and was at great pains to teach her what to do and say.
“That,” said Mrs. Jarley in her grandest tone, as Nell touched a figure at the beginning of the platform, “is a maid-of-honour in the time of Queen Elizabeth, who died from pricking her finger while sewing upon a Sunday. See how the blood is trickling from her finger; also the gold-eyed needle of the time with which she is at work.”
All this Nell said over twice or thrice, pointing to the finger and the needle at the right times, and then passed on to the next.
When Nell knew all about that and could say it without a mistake, Mrs. Jarley passed on to the fat man, and then to the thin man, the tall man, the short man, the old lady who died of dancing at a hundred and thirty-two, the wild boy of the woods, and many another. And so well did Nell do her duty that by the time they had been shut up together for a couple of hours she knew quite well the history of the whole show.
Mrs. Jarley was much pleased with her, and now carried her off to see what was going on within doors.
The preparations outside had not been forgotten either. A nun was telling her beads on the little portico over the door; and a brigand, with the blackest possible head of hair, was at that moment being made ready to be taken round the town in a cart.
In the midst of the plans for drawing visitors, little Nell was not forgotten. The light cart in which the brigand was carried being gaily dressed with flags and streamers, the child was placed in a seat beside him, and rode slowly through the town, giving away handbills from a basket to the sound of drum and trumpet. This was done each morning for a few days.
The beauty of the child caused a great stir in the little country place. Grown-up folks began to be interested in the bright-eyed girl, and some score of little boys fell in love with her, and left nuts and apples for her at the wax-work door.
This was not lost on Mrs. Jarley, who, lest Nell should become too cheap, soon sent the brigand out alone again and kept the child in the room, where she showed the figures every half-hour.
Although her work was hard, Nell found the lady of the caravan very kind and thoughtful for her little helper’s comfort. The child soon began to receive little fees from the visitors for herself, and as her grandfather, too, was well treated and useful, she was very happy and contented.
But she often thought of the old house and the window at which she used to sit alone in far-off London; and then she would think of poor Kit and all his kindness, until the tears came into her eyes, and she would weep and smile together.
Often, too, her thoughts turned to her grandfather, and she would wonder how much he remembered of their former life. When they were wandering about she seldom thought of this, but now she could not help wondering what would become of them if he fell sick or her own strength were to fail her. The old man was very patient and willing, and glad to be of use; but he was a mere child—a poor, thoughtless, vacant creature. It made her very sad to see him thus, and she would often burst into tears, and going to some secret place, fall down upon her knees, and pray that he might be restored.