"I's not going to stand this no longer," he said.
"Do? Well, I dunno, yet; but I's bound to do some'at, an' I will too."
After awhile he spoke again. "I say, Nell, ain't yer hungry? for I is. I believe I could eat a grave-stun."
"I was hungry afore faather beat me, but I doesna feel it now," was the reply.
"Well, I seen where mother put the bread an' butter, and if I dunna fork the lot I's not Ben Bates."
So without much noise they moved the table into the corner of the room underneath the cupboard, and placing the chair on the top of the table, Benny mounted the top, and was able to reach the cupboard without difficulty.
A fair share of the loaf remained, and "heaps of butter," Benny said.
"Now, Nell," said he, "we'll 'ave a feast."
And a feast they did have, according to Benny's thinking, for very little of either loaf or butter remained when they had finished their repast.
"What will mother say when she finds out?" said Nelly, when they had again lain down.
"We must be off afore she wakes, Nell, and never come back no more."
"Ay do I. We mun take all our traps wi' us i' t' morning."
"Never fear, we'll find a shop somewheres, an' anywheres is better nor this."
"Now, Nell, we mun sleep a bit, 'cause as how we'll 'ave to be stirring airly."
And soon the brother and sister were fast asleep, locked in each other's arms.
Ne'er saw I, never felt a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will: Dear God, the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still. --Wordsworth
Next morning Benny was stirring early, and when the first faint rays of the coming day peeped through the dust-begrimed and patched-up window, they saw the little fellow busily engaged in gathering together what things he and Nelly possessed previous to their final departure from home.
Nelly still slept on, and several times the brother paused and looked fondly down upon the fair face of the sleeping child. She looked very beautiful, Benny thought, as she lay sleeping there, with a pink spot glowing on either cheek, and the long flaxen hair thrown carelessly back from the pale forehead. Once or twice she murmured in her sheep, and the same happy smile spread over her face that he had noticed the evening before when she sat gazing into Joe Wrag's fire.