Then the play itself!  The horses which little Jacob believed from the first to be alive,—­and the ladies and gentlemen, of whose reality he could be by no means persuaded, having never seen or heard anything at all like them—­the firing, which made Barbara (who had a holiday too) wink—­the forlorn lady who made her cry—­the tyrant who made her tremble—­the clown who ventured on such familiarities with the military man in boots—­the lady who jumped over the nine-and-twenty ribbons and came down safe upon the horse’s back—­everything was delightful, splendid, and surprising!  Little Jacob applauded until his hands were sore; Kit cried “an-kor” at the end of everything; and Barbara’s mother beat her umbrella on the floor, in her ecstasies, until it was nearly worn down to the gingham.

What was all this though—­even all this—­to the extraordinary dissipation that ensued, when Kit, walking into an oyster-shop, as bold as if he lived there, led his party into a box—­a private box, fitted up with red curtains, white tablecloth, and cruet-stand complete—­and ordered a fierce gentleman with whiskers, who acted as waiter, and called him “Christopher Nubbles, sir,” to bring three dozen of his largest-size oysters, and look sharp about it!  Then they fell to work upon the supper in earnest; and ate and laughed and enjoyed themselves so thoroughly that it did Kit good to see them, and made him laugh and eat likewise, from strong sympathy.  But the greatest miracle of the night was little Jacob, who ate oysters as if he had been born and bred to the business.  There was the baby, too, who sat as good as gold, trying to force a large orange into his mouth, and gazing intently at the lights in the chandelier,—­there he was, sitting in his mother’s lap, and making indentations in his soft visage with an oyster-shell, so contentedly that a heart of iron must have loved him!  In short, there never was a more successful supper; and when Kit proposed the health of Mrs. and Mr. Garland, there were not six happier people in the world.  But all happiness has an end, and as it was now growing late, they agreed that it was time to turn their faces homeward—­and the great day was at an end.

One morning just before this, when Kit was out exercising the pony, he was called into the office where he had first seen Mr. and Mrs. Garland, to be examined by a strange gentleman concerning what he knew of little Nell and her grandfather.  The gentleman told Kit that he was trying by every means in his power to discover their hiding-place; and, finally, after Kit had repeated all that he could remember of the life and words of his beloved Miss Nelly and the old man, the stranger slipped a half-crown into his hand and dismissed him.  The strange gentleman liked Kit so much that he desired to have him in his own service, but the boy stoutly refused to leave his kind employer.  At Mr. Garland’s suggestion, however, he offered his services to the stranger for an hour or two every day, and from that came trouble to Kit.