"I don't know indeed what you could have done," said his father
from the bed.

"We should have all starved, my precious Diamond," said his mother,
whose pride in her boy was even greater than her joy in the shillings.
Both of them together made her heart ache, for pleasure can do that
as well as pain.

"Oh no! we shouldn't," said Diamond. "I could have taken Nanny's
crossing till she came back; and then the money, instead of going
for Old Sal's gin, would have gone for father's beef-tea. I wonder
what Nanny will do when she gets well again. Somebody else
will be sure to have taken the crossing by that time. I wonder
if she will fight for it, and whether I shall have to help her.
I won't bother my head about that. Time enough yet! Hey diddle!
hey diddle! hey diddle diddle! I wonder whether Mr. Raymond would
take me to see Nanny. Hey diddle! hey diddle! hey diddle diddle!
The baby and fiddle! O, mother, I'm such a silly! But I can't help it.
I wish I could think of something else, but there's nothing will
come into my head but hey diddle diddle! the cat and the fiddle!
I wonder what the angels do--when they're extra happy, you know--
when they've been driving cabs all day and taking home the money to
their mothers. Do you think they ever sing nonsense, mother?"

"I daresay they've got their own sort of it," answered his mother,
"else they wouldn't be like other people." She was thinking more
of her twenty-one shillings and sixpence, and of the nice dinner
she would get for her sick husband next day, than of the angels
and their nonsense, when she said it. But Diamond found her answer
all right.