Dick Lionheart

Mary Rowles vis
Dick Lionheart, by Mary Rowles
Jarvis

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Title: Dick Lionheart
Author: Mary Rowles Jarvis
Release Date: October 16, 2006 [EBook #19554]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DICK
LIONHEART ***

Produced by Al Haines

[Frontispiece: "PAT RUSHED TO DICK'S FEET."]

DICK LIONHEART

BY
MARY ROWLES JARVIS.

WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS.

LONDON
S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO., LTD.
OLD BAILEY.

CONTENTS.
CHAP.
I. SOMETHING TO LOVE II. FIGHTING FIRE III. A DASH FOR
FREEDOM IV. IN A CARRIER'S WAGGON V. PAT LOST AND
FOUND VI. A HOME IN IRONBORO' VII. PADDY'S RESOLVE
VIII. LIONHEART'S BRAVE STAND IX. STOPPING A
BURGLARY X. SUCCESS AT LAST

ILLUSTRATIONS
"PAT RUSHED TO DICK'S FEET." . . . Frontispiece
"WITHOUT A THOUGHT OF DANGER, LIONHEART DASHED
TOWARDS THE HORSE'S HEAD."
"'TAKE THAT FOR INTERFERING!'"
"'I TELL YOU THERE'S NO DANGER AT ALL!'"

DICK LIONHEART.
CHAPTER I.
SOMETHING TO LOVE.
"There, take that, and be off with you! And no dawdling, mind. It's ten
minutes late, and you'll have to step it to be there by one. That's your
dinner, and more than you deserve."
Dick Crosby took the one thick slice she offered, slipped the handle of
the tin of tea on his arm, and with the big basin, tied up in a blue
handkerchief, in his other hand, marched off in the direction of the tin
works, while slatternly Mrs. Fowley went back into her cottage.
"Only bread and dripping again," he muttered, "while they've all got
cooked dinner. How good it smells! She might have given me at least
some taters and gravy. And I'm so thirsty. Perhaps if he is in a good
mood I shall get a drink of tea. I s'pose nobody would know if I helped
myself in Fell Lane, but I can't be Lionheart and do mean things,
teacher said. Only if ever I grow up and have a little chap in my house
what's only a 'cumbrance, he shall have the same dinner as all the rest!"
Taking frugal bites at the bread and dripping, to make it last as long as
possible, Dick hurried on to the Works, whose tall chimney sent out
clouds of black smoke.
The hooter sounded for the dinner hour as he reached the last turning,
and a crowd of men and boys passed him, and one of the boys called
out, "Hulloa, Slavey! How much a day for scrubbing floors and
minding babbies?"
Dick's face flushed hotly, and the small hard hand that held the dinner
trembled with a passionate desire to fight the tormentors, among whom
Tim Fowley, his cousin, laughed loudest.
But his uncle was standing at the gate, and he had to hurry up with the

dinner.
His reward for good speed was a surly word from the man and a box on
the ear, that made his head reel.
"Take that for dawdling, and be off with you!"
"Oi don't think he deserved that, mate," said the cheery voice of Paddy
the fireman, as he passed down the yard. "Shure, ye can see by the
sweat of his brow he's been hurrying."
The man turned sulkily away, and Paddy whispered, "Come along of
me, Dick, I've got somethin' to show you--somethin' you'll like almost
as much as engines."
Dick followed eagerly, feeling that he had honestly earned ten minutes
of dinner hour for his own.
It was hot in the great boiler house, where the stoke holes were glowing
with fiery heat, and the throb of the machinery went on, like giant's
music, all the time.
Paddy had worked there for years, and had found out Dick's intense
love for engines and his secret ambition, some day, to be a stoker, too.
And the Irishman's warm heart had often been made angry by the
Fowleys' unkind treatment of the boy.
To-day he had a bacon sandwich and a drink of coffee to spare, and
when Dick had gratefully disposed of these he took him to a warm
corner behind the door, and showed him an old basket.
On the straw inside slept a tiny black and tan terrier, that as yet could
hardly see. Dick was on his knees in a moment, fondling the little
bundle, and crying, "Oh, Paddy, is he yours? What a dear little doggie."
Paddy's homely face was beaming as he said, "Shure, an' I'm glad ye
like him, Dick, me boy. Can ye kape a secret if I
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