I picked me brother up, an he was screamin, too. An old man put his head out the door an said, ‘Wha’s wrong wit ye’s?’ I just sobbed me chest up an down an held onta me brother, an looked at him, not knowin wha te do or which way te run. The man said, ‘Get back te where ye’s came from an do yer screamin there.’ An he banged the door shut. I hurried down onta the next landin an stopped. I told Charlie we were all right, the man’s gone, but we’d better be quiet an listen te make sure he’s gone. So we sat down on the stairs, wit Charlie snuggled beside me, an we listened te the quiet. Me chest was slowly easin of the pain, an I wasn’t shakin so much now. Charlie would give a sob now an then, but otherwise everythin was quiet. An then, as we were beginnin te doze off from the peace, another thought hit me. Jackser could be lookin fer us. When it’s time fer us te go back in, he opens the winda an shouts down. I’d better hurry, an me heart began te pound again. An Charlie started te cry, cos I gave him a fright when I moved off wit him so fast.
Jackser took me down te Bachelors Walk, an we crossed over the Liffey te the toy wholesalers an bought a box of balloons an windmills an whistles. The next mornin, we were up when it was still dark, an we made our way up te the stables off Mountjoy Square an harnessed up the horse te the cart. Jackser promised te pay his friend, the owner of the horse an cart, a few bob when he makes money on the rags an the bottles we get fer givin out the toys, mostly te childre. We give the horse his oats, an when he’s fed an watered, we set off.
‘Right!’ Jackser says te me. ‘We’ll head out te Ballybough, an from there we’ll see.’ So we clipclopped outa the lane an turned right onta Mountjoy Square. I saw some of me old friends hangin aroun the square. ‘Look, Jackser! There’s childre, we might get somethin if we stop here.’
‘Not at all!’ Jackser said. ‘The only rags them beggars have is on them. We’ll keep on movin.’ So we trotted on an stopped at the traffic lights at Gardiner Street before turnin right on te Dorset Street. When we arrived at Ballybough, we clipclopped inta the narra archway an inta the flats. Jackser pulled the horse up. ‘Toys fer rags!’ he shouted, an the kids playin aroun the pram sheds came runnin over.
‘What’ve ye got, Mister? Wha will ye give us?’
‘Get blowin them balloons,’ Jackser said te me, ‘an we’ll tie them onta these sticks.’
The childre came runnin out wit old clothes an porter bottles an jam jars. I handed them the balloons. ‘No! I want the one on the stick, like he got!’ I was puffed out from blowin up balloons an tried te get them te do it themselves. They started roarin an shoutin, an tried te grab the toy box. ‘Give us tha one!’, ‘Give us the windmill!’, ‘Gimme the red balloon on a stick!’ The childre were mobbin me, an Jackser didn’t notice, he was busy admirin a man’s suit an fittin it up te himself until there was a scream from one of the doors.
‘Eh, you! Don’t move. I’m comin down!’ a woman shouted te Jackser. An she came runnin over wit a child she was draggin behind her holdin onta a windmill. ‘Tha’s me husband’s good suit!’ she roared, an she snatched it back from Jackser. ‘I had it out, ready te bring it te the pawn. An ye took it offa the child knowin its worth, ye aul toerag, ye!’
Jackser jumped off the cart an snatched the suit back from the woman. ‘How do I know tha’s yours?’ he said.
‘Right! Get up them stairs an get yer father outa the bed an tell him te get down here quick,’ she said te her child. I watched as about half a dozen childre raced off te get the father. ‘Mickey! Da! Mickey!’ they were all shoutin as they ran up the stairs.
‘Now!’ the woman said te Jackser. ‘We’ll see how ye get on when ye’re faced wit me Mickey! He’ll sort ye out quick an proper!’ She was white-faced an stood in front of Jackser wit her arms folded. Jackser was even whiter, an I was lookin forward te meetin Mickey.
But Jackser had a change of heart an handed the woman back her suit an said he was sorry fer the misunderstandin, anyone can make a mistake! Then he said, ‘There’s no need fer any more trouble!’ An he slapped the horse wit the whip an said, ‘Go on, Daisy! Get movin.’
The horse neighed an threw her head up, an Jackser gave her another crack of the whip. We took off, throwin me flat on me back inta the rags an sendin the sack of jam jars an porter bottles crashin aroun the cart. We galloped inta the bend an raced down the arch just as Mickey appeared in his bare feet an still tyin up his trousers. We came te a screechin stop before we hit the main road, an the horse was snortin wit fright. I was lookin back, an Jackser was lookin back, an we could see Mickey wavin his fists at Jackser. ‘Jaysus, tha was close!’ Jackser said, still white as a sheet.