Once, in a block, a policeman came up to him, and asked him for his

number. Diamond showed him his father's badge, saying with a smile:

“Father's ill at home, and so I came out with the cab. There's no fear

of me. I can drive. Besides, the old horse could go alone.”

“Just as well, I daresay. You're a pair of 'em. But you are a rum 'un

for a cabby--ain't you now?” said the policeman. “I don't know as I

ought to let you go.”

“I ain't done nothing,” said Diamond. “It's not my fault I'm no bigger.

I'm big enough for my age.”

“That's where it is,” said the man. “You ain't fit.”

“How do you know that?” asked Diamond, with his usual smile, and turning

his head like a little bird.

“Why, how are you to get out of this ruck now, when it begins to move?”

“Just you get up on the box,” said Diamond, “and I'll show you. There,

that van's a-moving now. Jump up.”

The policeman did as Diamond told him, and was soon satisfied that the

little fellow could drive.

“Well,” he said, as he got down again, “I don't know as I should be

right to interfere. Good luck to you, my little man!”

“Thank you, sir,” said Diamond, and drove away.

In a few minutes a gentleman hailed him.

“Are you the driver of this cab?” he asked.

“Yes, sir” said Diamond, showing his badge, of which, he was proud.

“You're the youngest cabman I ever saw. How am I to know you won't break

all my bones?”

“I would rather break all my own,” said Diamond. “But if you're afraid,

never mind me; I shall soon get another fare.”

“I'll risk it,” said the gentleman; and, opening the door himself, he

jumped in.

He was going a good distance, and soon found that Diamond got him over

the ground well. Now when Diamond had only to go straight ahead, and had

not to mind so much what he was about, his thoughts always turned to the

riddle Mr. Raymond had set him; and this gentleman looked so clever that

he fancied he must be able to read it for him. He had given up all hope

of finding it out for himself, and he could not plague his father about

it when he was ill. He had thought of the answer himself, but fancied it

could not be the right one, for to see how it all fitted required some

knowledge of physiology. So, when he reached the end of his journey, he

got down very quickly, and with his head just looking in at the window,

said, as the gentleman gathered his gloves and newspapers:

“Please, sir, can you tell me the meaning of a riddle?”

“You must tell me the riddle first,” answered the gentleman, amused.

Diamond repeated the riddle.

“Oh! that's easy enough,” he returned. “It's a tree.”

“Well, it ain't got no mouth, sure enough; but how then does it eat all

day long?”

“It sucks in its food through the tiniest holes in its leaves,” he

answered. “Its breath is its food. And it can't do it except in the

daylight.”

“Thank you, sir, thank you,” returned Diamond. “I'm sorry I couldn't

find it out myself; Mr. Raymond would have been better pleased with me.”

“But you needn't tell him any one told you.”

Diamond gave him a stare which came from the very back of the north

wind, where that kind of thing is unknown.

“That would be cheating,” he said at last.

“Ain't you a cabby, then?”

“Cabbies don't cheat.”

“Don't they? I am of a different opinion.”

“I'm sure my father don't.”

“What's your fare, young innocent?”

“Well, I think the distance is a good deal over three miles--that's two

shillings. Only father says sixpence a mile is too little, though we

can't ask for more.”

“You're a deep one. But I think you're wrong. It's over four miles--not

much, but it is.”

“Then that's half-a-crown,” said Diamond.

“Well, here's three shillings. Will that do?”

“Thank you kindly, sir. I'll tell my father how good you were to

me--first to tell me my riddle, then to put me right about the distance,

and then to give me sixpence over. It'll help father to get well again,

it will.”

“I hope it may, my man. I shouldn't wonder if you're as good as you

look, after all.”

As Diamond returned, he drew up at a stand he had never been on before:

it was time to give Diamond his bag of chopped beans and oats. The men

got about him, and began to chaff him. He took it all good-humouredly,

until one of them, who was an ill-conditioned fellow, began to tease old

Diamond by poking him roughly in the ribs, and making general game of

him. That he could not bear, and the tears came in his eyes. He undid

the nose-bag, put it in the boot, and was just going to mount and drive

away, when the fellow interfered, and would not let him get up. Diamond

endeavoured to persuade him, and was very civil, but he would have his

fun out of him, as he said. In a few minutes a group of idle boys had

assembled, and Diamond found himself in a very uncomfortable position.

Another cab drew up at the stand, and the driver got off and approached

the assemblage.

“What's up here?” he asked, and Diamond knew the voice. It was that of

the drunken cabman.

“Do you see this young oyster? He pretends to drive a cab,” said his

enemy.

“Yes, I do see him. And I sees you too. You'd better leave him alone. He

ain't no oyster. He's a angel come down on his own business. You be off,

or I'll be nearer you than quite agreeable.”

The drunken cabman was a tall, stout man, who did not look one to take

liberties with.

“Oh! if he's a friend of yours,” said the other, drawing back.

Diamond got out the nose-bag again. Old Diamond should have his feed out

now.

“Yes, he is a friend o' mine. One o' the best I ever had. It's a pity

he ain't a friend o' yourn. You'd be the better for it, but it ain't no

fault of hisn.”

When Diamond went home at night, he carried with him one pound one

shilling and sixpence, besides a few coppers extra, which had followed

some of the fares.

His mother had got very anxious indeed--so much so that she was almost

afraid, when she did hear the sound of his cab, to go and look, lest

she should be yet again disappointed, and should break down before her

husband. But there was the old horse, and there was the cab all right,

and there was Diamond in the box, his pale face looking triumphant as a

full moon in the twilight.

When he drew up at the stable-door, Jack came out, and after a good many

friendly questions and congratulations, said:

“You go in to your mother, Diamond. I'll put up the old 'oss. I'll take

care on him. He do deserve some small attention, he do.”

“Thank you, Jack,” said Diamond, and bounded into the house, and into

the arms of his mother, who was waiting him at the top of the stair.

The poor, anxious woman led him into his own room, sat down on his bed,

took him on her lap as if he had been a baby, and cried.

“How's father?” asked Diamond, almost afraid to ask.

“Better, my child,” she answered, “but uneasy about you, my dear.”

“Didn't you tell him I was the early bird gone out to catch the worm?”

“That was what put it in your head, was it, you monkey?” said his

mother, beginning to get better.

“That or something else,” answered Diamond, so very quietly that his

mother held his head back and stared in his face.

“Well! of all the children!” she said, and said no more.

“And here's my worm,” resumed Diamond.

But to see her face as he poured the shillings and sixpences and pence

into her lap! She burst out crying a second time, and ran with the money