| 434 | 435 | 436 | 437 | 438 |
| 1 | 133 | 265 | 398 | 530 |
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At this the poor woman fell a-crying again, and Barbara's mother too.
And little Jacob, whose disjointed thoughts had by this time resolved
themselves into a pretty distinct impression that Kit couldn't go out
for a walk if he wanted, and that there were no birds, lions, tigers or
other natural curiosities behind those bars - nothing indeed, but a
caged brother - added his tears to theirs with as little noise as
possible.
Kit's mother, drying her eyes (and moistening them, poor soul, more
than she dried them), now took from the ground a small basket, and
submissively addressed herself to the turnkey, saying, would he
please to listen to her for a minute? The turnkey, being in the very
crisis and passion of a joke, motioned to her with his hand to keep
silent one minute longer, for her life. Nor did he remove his hand into
its former posture, but kept it in the same warning attitude until he
had finished the paragraph, when he paused for a few seconds, with a
smile upon his face, as who should say 'this editor is a comical blade -
a funny dog,' and then asked her what she wanted.
'
I have brought him a little something to eat,' said the good woman. 'If
you please, Sir, might he have it?'
'
Yes, - he may have it. There's no rule against that. Give it to me when
you go, and I'll take care he has it.'
'
No, but if you please sir - don't be angry with me sir - I am his
mother, and you had a mother once - if I might only see him eat a
little bit, I should go away, so much more satisfied that he was all
comfortable.'
And again the tears of Kit's mother burst forth, and of Barbara's
mother, and of little Jacob. As to the baby, it was crowing and
laughing with its might - under the idea, apparently, that the whole
scene had been invented and got up for its particular satisfaction.
The turnkey looked as if he thought the request a strange one and
rather out of the common way, but nevertheless he laid down his
paper, and coming round where Kit's mother stood, took the basket
from her, and after inspecting its contents, handed it to Kit, and went
back to his place. It may be easily conceived that the prisoner had no
great appetite, but he sat down on the ground, and ate as hard as he
could, while, at every morsel he put into his mouth, his mother
sobbed and wept afresh, though with a softened grief that bespoke the
satisfaction the sight afforded her.
While he was thus engaged, Kit made some anxious inquiries about
his employers, and whether they had expressed any opinion
concerning him; but all he could learn was that Mr Abel had himself
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