house, and walked purposefully down a side street and thence to
another side street.
There they were. He knew they would be there. Boys – boys after William’s own heart – dirty boys, shouting boys, whistling boys, fighting boys. William approached. At his own
home he would have been acclaimed at once as leader of any lawless horde. But here he was not known. His present appearance, moreover – brushed hair, evening clothes, clean face – was
against him. To them he was a thing taboo. They turned on him with delightful yells of scorn.
‘Yah!’
‘Where’s yer mammy?’
‘Look at ’is shoes! Boo-oo!’
Isn’t ’is ’air brushed nice?’
‘Yah!’
‘Boo!’
‘Garn!’
The tallest of them snatched William’s cap from his head and ran off with it. The snatching of a boy’s cap from his head is a deadly insult. William, whose one wistful desire was to
be friends with his new acquaintances, yet had his dignity to maintain. He flew after the boy and caught him by the back of his neck. Then they closed.
The rest of the tribe stood round them in a ring, giving advice and encouragement. The contempt for William vanished. For William was a good fighter. He lost his collar and acquired a black eye;
and his hair, in the exhilaration of the contest, recovered from its recent severe brushing and returned to its favourite vertical angle.
The two were fairly well matched, and the fight was a most satisfactory one till the cry of ‘Cops’ brought it to an abrupt end, and the crowd of boys, with William now in the middle,
fled precipitately down another street. When they were at a safe distance from the blue helmet, they stopped, and the large boy handed William his cap.
‘ ’Ere you are, ’ he said, with a certain respect.
William, with a careless gesture, tossed the cap into the air. ‘Don’t want it,’ he said.
‘Wot’s yer nime?’
‘William.’
‘ ’E’s called Bill,’ said the boy to the others.
William read in their faces a growing interest, not quite friendship yet, but still not quite contempt. He glowed with pride. He put his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and there met
– a sixpence – joy!
‘Wot’s your name?’ he said to his late adversary
‘ ’Erb,’ said the other, still staring at William with interest.
‘Come on, ’Erb,’ said William jauntily, ‘let’s buy some sweets, eh?’
He entered a small, unsavoury sweetshop, and the whole tribe crowded in after him. He and ’Erb discussed the rival merits of bulls’ eyes and cokernut kisses at length.
‘Them larses longer,’ said ’Erb, ‘but these ’ere tases nicer.’
Finally, William airily tasted one of the cokernut kisses and the whole tribe followed his example – to be chased by the indignant shopkeeper all the way down the street.
‘Eatin’ of ’em!’ he shouted furiously. ‘Eatin’ of ’em without payin’ for ’em. I’ll set the cops on ye – ye
young thieves.’
They rushed along the next street shouting, whistling and pushing each other. William’s whistle was louder than any, he ran the foremost. The lust of lawlessness was
growing on him. They swarmed in at the next sweetshop, and William purchased sixpennyworth of bulls’ eyes and poured them recklessly out of the bag into the grimy, outstretched palms that
surrounded him.
William had no idea where he was. His hands were as grimy as the hands of his companions, his face was streaked with dirt wherever his hands had touched it, his eye was black, his collar was
gone, his hair was wild, his overcoat had lost its look of tailored freshness. And he was happy at last. He was no longer a little gentleman staying at a select hotel with his family. He was a boy
among boys – an outlaw among outlaws once more. He was no longer a pariah. He had proved his valour in fighting and running and whistling. He was almost accepted, not quite. He was alight
with exhilaration.
THEY RUSHED ALONG THE NEXT STREET, SHOUTING AND
another side street.
There they were. He knew they would be there. Boys – boys after William’s own heart – dirty boys, shouting boys, whistling boys, fighting boys. William approached. At his own
home he would have been acclaimed at once as leader of any lawless horde. But here he was not known. His present appearance, moreover – brushed hair, evening clothes, clean face – was
against him. To them he was a thing taboo. They turned on him with delightful yells of scorn.
‘Yah!’
‘Where’s yer mammy?’
‘Look at ’is shoes! Boo-oo!’
Isn’t ’is ’air brushed nice?’
‘Yah!’
‘Boo!’
‘Garn!’
The tallest of them snatched William’s cap from his head and ran off with it. The snatching of a boy’s cap from his head is a deadly insult. William, whose one wistful desire was to
be friends with his new acquaintances, yet had his dignity to maintain. He flew after the boy and caught him by the back of his neck. Then they closed.
The rest of the tribe stood round them in a ring, giving advice and encouragement. The contempt for William vanished. For William was a good fighter. He lost his collar and acquired a black eye;
and his hair, in the exhilaration of the contest, recovered from its recent severe brushing and returned to its favourite vertical angle.
The two were fairly well matched, and the fight was a most satisfactory one till the cry of ‘Cops’ brought it to an abrupt end, and the crowd of boys, with William now in the middle,
fled precipitately down another street. When they were at a safe distance from the blue helmet, they stopped, and the large boy handed William his cap.
‘ ’Ere you are, ’ he said, with a certain respect.
William, with a careless gesture, tossed the cap into the air. ‘Don’t want it,’ he said.
‘Wot’s yer nime?’
‘William.’
‘ ’E’s called Bill,’ said the boy to the others.
William read in their faces a growing interest, not quite friendship yet, but still not quite contempt. He glowed with pride. He put his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and there met
– a sixpence – joy!
‘Wot’s your name?’ he said to his late adversary
‘ ’Erb,’ said the other, still staring at William with interest.
‘Come on, ’Erb,’ said William jauntily, ‘let’s buy some sweets, eh?’
He entered a small, unsavoury sweetshop, and the whole tribe crowded in after him. He and ’Erb discussed the rival merits of bulls’ eyes and cokernut kisses at length.
‘Them larses longer,’ said ’Erb, ‘but these ’ere tases nicer.’
Finally, William airily tasted one of the cokernut kisses and the whole tribe followed his example – to be chased by the indignant shopkeeper all the way down the street.
‘Eatin’ of ’em!’ he shouted furiously. ‘Eatin’ of ’em without payin’ for ’em. I’ll set the cops on ye – ye
young thieves.’
They rushed along the next street shouting, whistling and pushing each other. William’s whistle was louder than any, he ran the foremost. The lust of lawlessness was
growing on him. They swarmed in at the next sweetshop, and William purchased sixpennyworth of bulls’ eyes and poured them recklessly out of the bag into the grimy, outstretched palms that
surrounded him.
William had no idea where he was. His hands were as grimy as the hands of his companions, his face was streaked with dirt wherever his hands had touched it, his eye was black, his collar was
gone, his hair was wild, his overcoat had lost its look of tailored freshness. And he was happy at last. He was no longer a little gentleman staying at a select hotel with his family. He was a boy
among boys – an outlaw among outlaws once more. He was no longer a pariah. He had proved his valour in fighting and running and whistling. He was almost accepted, not quite. He was alight
with exhilaration.
THEY RUSHED ALONG THE NEXT STREET, SHOUTING AND
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