"I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover."
"Go agen then, and stop," growled Ike irritably. "Swep' all away, my
lad, by the road-police, and now--"
"There's a man standing in the dark here under this hedge, Ike," I
whispered. "Is--is he likely to be a foot-pad?"
"Either a footpad or a policeman. Which does he look like?" said Ike.
"Policeman," I whispered. "I think I saw the top of his hat shine."
"Right, lad. You needn't be scared about them sort o' gentlemen now.
As Old Brownsmith says, gas and steam-engines and police have done away
with them, and the road's safe enough, night or day."
We jolted on past the policeman, who turned his bull's-eye lantern upon
us for a moment, so that I could see Basket's ribs and the profile of
Ike's great nose as he bent forward with his arms resting on his legs.
There was a friendly "good-night," and we had left him about a couple of
hundred yards behind, when, amidst the jolting of the cart and the
creaking of the baskets overhead, ike said suddenly: "Seem to have left that chap behind, or else he's gone to--"
"I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover."
"Why, if he ar'n't there agen!" cried Ike savagely. "Look here, it
worries me. I'd rayther have a dog behind barking than a chap singing
like that. I hates singing."
"I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover."
"Look here," said Ike; "I shall just draw to one side and wait till
he've gone by. Steady, Bony; woa, lad! Now he may go on, and sing all
the way to Dover if he likes."
Suiting the action to the word Ike pulled one rein; but Basket kept
steadily on, and Ike pulled harder. But though Ike pulled till he drew
the horse's head round so that he could look at us, the legs went on in
the same track, and we did not even get near the side of the road.
"He knows it ain't right to stop here," growled Ike. "Woa, will yer!
What a obstin't hammer-headed old buffler it is! Woa!"
Basket paid not the slightest heed for a few minutes. Then, as if he
suddenly comprehended, he stopped short.
"Thankye," said Ike drily; "much obliged. It's my belief, though, that
the wicked old walking scaffold was fast asleep, and has on'y just woke
up."
"Why, he couldn't go on walking in his sleep, Ike," I exclaimed.
"Not go on walking in his sleep, mate! That there hoss couldn't! Bless
your 'art, he'd do a deal more wonderful things than that. Well, that
there chap's a long time going by. I can't wait."
Ike looked back, holding on by the iron support of the ladder.