in that place. Yet little Tom was not unhappy. He had a hard
time of it, but did not know it. It was the sort of time that all
the Offal Court boys had, therefore he supposed it was the correct
and comfortable thing. When he came home empty-handed at night,
he knew his father would curse him and thrash him first, and that
when he was done the awful grandmother would do it all over again
and improve on it; and that away in the night his starving mother
would slip to him stealthily with any miserable scrap or crust she
had been able to save for him by going hungry herself,
notwithstanding she was often caught in that sort of treason and
soundly beaten for it by her husband.
No, Tom’s life went along well enough, especially in summer. He
only begged just enough to save himself, for the laws against
mendicancy were stringent, and the penalties heavy; so he put in a
good deal of his time listening to good Father Andrew’s charming
old tales and legends about giants and fairies, dwarfs and genii,
and enchanted castles, and gorgeous kings and princes. His head
grew to be full of these wonderful things, and many a night as he
lay in the dark on his scant and offensive straw, tired, hungry,
and smarting from a thrashing, he unleashed his imagination and
soon forgot his aches and pains in delicious picturings to himself
of the charmed life of a petted prince in a regal palace. One
desire came in time to haunt him day and night: it was to see a
real prince, with his own eyes. He spoke of it once to some of
his Offal Court comrades; but they jeered him and scoffed him so
unmercifully that he was glad to keep his dream to himself after
that.
He often read the priest’s old books and got him to explain and
enlarge upon them. His dreamings and readings worked certain
changes in him, by-and-by. His dream-people were so fine that he
grew to lament his shabby clothing and his dirt, and to wish to be
clean and better clad. He went on playing in the mud just the
same, and enjoying it, too; but, instead of splashing around in
the Thames solely for the fun of it, he began to find an added
value in it because of the washings and cleansings it afforded.
Tom could always find something going on around the Maypole in
Cheapside, and at the fairs; and now and then he and the rest of
London had a chance to see a military parade when some famous
unfortunate was carried prisoner to the Tower, by land or boat.
One summer’s day he saw poor Anne Askew and three men burned at
the stake in Smithfield, and heard an ex-Bishop preach a sermon to
them which did not interest him. Yes, Tom’s life was varied and
pleasant enough, on the whole.
By-and-by Tom’s reading and dreaming about princely life wrought
such a strong effect upon him that he began to ACT the prince,
unconsciously. His speech and manners became curiously
ceremonious and courtly, to the vast admiration and amusement of
his intimates. But Tom’s influence among these young people began
to grow now, day by day; and in time he came to be looked up to,
by them, with a sort of wondering awe, as a superior being. He
seemed to know so much! and he could do and say such marvellous
things! and withal, he was so deep and wise! Tom’s remarks, and
Tom’s performances, were reported by the boys to their elders; and
these, also, presently began to discuss Tom Canty, and to regard
him as a most gifted and extraordinary creature. Full-grown
people brought their perplexities to Tom for solution, and were
often astonished at the wit and wisdom of his decisions. In fact
he was become a hero to all who knew him except his own family–
these, only, saw nothing in him.
Privately, after a while, Tom organised a royal court! He was the
prince; his special comrades were guards, chamberlains, equerries,
lords and ladies in waiting, and the royal family. Daily the mock