17 Thomas the Rhymer
Cornered by the tramp Jack sacrifices himself for his friends
Thomas the Rhymer
Art :Gloria Dexter
At the sight of Jack, the tramp started crying.
“Master Jack, Tom’s a lost. Master Jack, Tom’s a cold. Master Jack, don’t be cross! Master Jack, take Tom home! For I did dilly and did dally, dally and did dilly, lost my way and don’t know where to roam. Now you can’t trust a story like old Jack-a-Nory, when you can’t find your way home!”
Jack stared stupidly at the tramp.
“It’s all right, he won’t hurt you,” Ken shouted.
“You’ve changed your tune,” Jack shouted back.
“I was wrong. He’s not trying to scare us. He’s scared. The noise, the people, he’s not used to it.
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Piling a mound of toast on a plate, Rosie drowned it in baked beans and crowned the lot with three fried eggs. Slapping the plate in front of Thomas, she told the others to help themselves to the fairy cakes in the tin.
They all sat around, while he wolfed his meal.
“Pretty maid, may praise come fast for such a bounteous repast,” Thomas said, mopping up the last of the bean juice with an extra round of bread.
“Can’t you speak normal?” Jack snapped in exasperation.
Thomas looked horrified. “Like you not the pace and patter of wit and rhyme and charming chatter?”
“It gets on my nerves actually.”
Thomas looked from Catherine to Ken. Seeing they sided with Jack, replied hesitantly, “I can but try.”
from Chapter 10 Thomas the Rhymer