diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:33:52 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:33:52 -0700 |
| commit | 86f9c839313e31b0cafc56e9a84213ab307b28d2 (patch) | |
| tree | 0543d2a52d83c8c386ba90bcd73fcf32689ddac7 | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 10093-0.txt | 5181 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/10093.txt | 5606 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/10093.zip | bin | 0 -> 104865 bytes |
6 files changed, 10803 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/10093-0.txt b/10093-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7dfb32c --- /dev/null +++ b/10093-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5181 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10093 *** + +Gutta Percha Willie: the Working Genius + +BY + +GEORGE MACDONALD + +With eight black and white illustrations by Arthur Hughes + + + + + + + +[Illustration: WILLIE'S HORSE-SHOEING FORGE.] + + + + +CONTENTS + + I. WHO HE WAS AND WHERE HE WAS + II. WILLIE'S EDUCATION + III. HE IS TURNED INTO SOMETHING HE NEVER WAS BEFORE + IV. HE SERVES AN APPRENTICESHIP + V. HE GOES TO LEARN A TRADE + VI. HOW WILLIE LEARNED TO READ BEFORE HE KNEW HIS LETTERS + VII. SOME THINGS THAT CAME OF WILLIE'S GOING TO SCHOOL + VIII. WILLIE DIGS AND FINDS WHAT HE DID NOT EXPECT + IX. A MARVEL + X. A NEW ALARUM + XI. SOME OF THE SIGHTS WILLIE SAW + XII. A NEW SCHEME + XIII. WILLIE'S NEST IN THE RUINS + XIV. WILLIE'S GRANDMOTHER + XV. HYDRAULICS + XVI. HECTOR HINTS AT A DISCOVERY + XVII. HOW WILLIE WENT ON +XVIII. WILLIE'S TALK WITH HIS GRANDMOTHER + XIX. A TALK WITH MR SHEPHERD + XX. HOW WILLIE DID HIS BEST TO MAKE A BIRD OF AGNES + XXI. HOW AGNES LIKED BEING A BIRD + XXII. WILLIE'S PLANS BUD +XXIII. WILLIE'S PLANS BLOSSOM + XXIV. WILLIE'S PLANS BEAR FRUIT + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +BY +ARTHUR HUGHES + +WILLIE'S HORSE-SHOEING FORGE (FRONTISPIECE) +MRS WILSON'S STORIES +WILLIE WITH THE BABY +WILLIE TAKEN TO SEE A WATER-WHEEL +WILLIE TOLD HIS FATHER ALL ABOUT IT +"THAT'S WILLIE AGAIN" +WILLIE MAKES A BIRD OF AGNES +WILLIE'S DREAM + + + + +Summary: + +Gutta Percha Willie, the Working Genius +for all reading ages. We and Willie +discover the value of learning to be useful +with our hands to do that which is good and +before us. + + +Reading Level: for all reading ages. + + + + +THE HISTORY OF GUTTA-PERCHA WILLIE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +WHO HE WAS AND WHERE HE WAS. + +When he had been at school for about three weeks, the boys called him +Six-fingered Jack; but his real name was Willie, for his father and +mother gave it him--not William, but Willie, after a brother of his +father, who died young, and had always been called Willie. His name in +full was Willie Macmichael. It was generally pronounced Macmickle, which +was, by a learned anthropologist, for certain reasons about to appear +in this history, supposed to have been the original form of the name, +dignified in the course of time into Macmichael. It was his own father, +however, who gave him the name of Gutta-Percha Willie, the reason of +which will also show itself by and by. + +Mr Macmichael was a country doctor, living in a small village in a +thinly-peopled country; the first result of which was that he had very +hard work, for he had often to ride many miles to see a patient, and +that not unfrequently in the middle of the night; and the second that, +for this hard work, he had very little pay, for a thinly-peopled country +is generally a poor country, and those who live in it are poor also, +and cannot spend much even upon their health. But the doctor not only +preferred a country life, although he would have been glad to have +richer patients, and within less distances of each other, but he would +say to any one who expressed surprise that, with his reputation, he +should remain where he was--"What's to become of my little flock if I +go away, for there are very few doctors of my experience who would feel +inclined to come and undertake my work. I know every man, woman, and +child in the whole country-side, and that makes all the difference." You +see, therefore, that he was a good kind-hearted man, and loved his work, +for the sake of those whom he helped by it, better than the money he +received for it. + +Their home was necessarily a very humble one--a neat little cottage in +the village of Priory Leas--almost the one pretty spot thereabout. It +lay in a valley in the midst of hills, which did not look high, +because they rose with a gentle slope, and had no bold elevations or +grand-shaped peaks. But they rose to a good height notwithstanding, and +the weather on the top of them in the wintertime was often bitter and +fierce--bitter with keen frost, and fierce with as wild winds as ever +blew. Of both frost and wind the village at their feet had its share +too, but of course they were not so bad down below, for the hills were a +shelter from the wind, and it is always colder the farther you go up and +away from the heart of this warm ball of rock and earth upon which we +live. When Willie's father was riding across the great moorland of those +desolate hills, and the people in the village would be saying to each +other how bitterly cold it was, he would be thinking how snug and warm +it was down there, and how nice it would be to turn a certain corner on +the road back, and slip at once out of the freezing wind that had it all +its own way up among the withered gorse and heather of the wide expanse +where he pursued his dreary journey. + +For his part, Willie cared very little what the weather was, but took it +as it came. In the hot summer, he would lie in the long grass and get +cool; in the cold winter, he would scamper about and get warm. When his +hands were as cold as icicles, his cheeks would be red as apples. When +his mother took his hands in hers, and chafed them, full of pity for +their suffering, as she thought it, Willie first knew that they were +cold by the sweet warmth of the kind hands that chafed them: he had +not thought of it before. Climbing amongst the ruins of the Priory, or +playing with Farmer Thomson's boys and girls about the ricks in his +yard, in the thin clear saffron twilight which came so early after noon, +when, to some people, every breath seemed full of needle-points, so +sharp was the cold, he was as comfortable and happy as if he had been a +creature of the winter only, and found himself quite at home in it. + +For there were ruins, and pretty large ruins too, which they called the +Priory. It was not often that monks chose such a poor country to settle +in, but I suppose they had their reasons. And I dare say they were not +monks at all, but begging friars, who founded it when they wanted to +reprove the luxury and greed of the monks; and perhaps by the time they +had grown as bad themselves, the place was nearly finished, and they +could not well move it. They had, however, as I have indicated, chosen +the one pretty spot, around which, for a short distance on every side, +the land was tolerably good, and grew excellent oats if poor wheat, +while the gardens were equal to apples and a few pears, besides +abundance of gooseberries, currants, and strawberries. + +The ruins of the Priory lay behind Mr Macmichael's cottage--indeed, in +the very garden--of which, along with the house, he had purchased the +fen--that is, the place was his own, so long as he paid a small sum--not +more than fifteen shillings a year, I think--to his superior. How +long it was since the Priory had come to be looked upon as the mere +encumbrance of a cottage garden, nobody thereabouts knew; and although +by this time I presume archaeologists have ferreted out everything +concerning it, nobody except its owner had then taken the trouble to +make the least inquiry into its history. To Willie it was just the +Priory, as naturally in his father's garden as if every garden had +similar ruins to adorn or encumber it, according as the owner might +choose to regard its presence. + +The ruins were of considerable extent, with remains of Gothic arches, +and carvings about the doors--all open to the sky except a few places on +the ground-level which were vaulted. These being still perfectly solid, +were used by the family as outhouses to store wood and peats, to keep +the garden tools in, and for such like purposes. In summer, golden +flowers grew on the broken walls; in winter, grey frosts edged them +against the sky. + +I fancy the whole garden was but the space once occupied by the huge +building, for its surface was the most irregular I ever saw in a garden. +It was up and down, up and down, in whatever direction you went, mounded +with heaps of ruins, over which the mould had gathered. For many years +bushes and flowers had grown upon them, and you might dig a good way +without coming to the stones, though come to them you must at last. The +walks wound about between the heaps, and through the thick walls of the +ruin, overgrown with lichens and mosses, now and then passing through an +arched door or window of the ancient building. It was a generous garden +in old-fashioned flowers and vegetables. There were a few apple and pear +trees also on a wall that faced the south, which were regarded by Willie +with mingled respect and desire, for he was not allowed to touch them, +while of the gooseberries he was allowed to eat as many as he pleased +when they were ripe, and of the currants too, after his mother had had +as many as she wanted for preserves. + +Some spots were much too shady to allow either fruit or flowers to grow +in them, so high and close were the walls. But I need not say more about +the garden now, for I shall have occasion to refer to it again and +again, and I must not tell all I know at once, else how should I make a +story of it? + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +WILLIE'S EDUCATION. + +Willie was a good deal more than nine years of age before he could read +a single word. It was not that he was stupid, as we shall soon see, but +that he had not learned the good of reading, and therefore had not begun +to wish to read; and his father had unusual ideas about how he ought to +be educated. He said he would no more think of making Willie learn to +read before he wished to be taught than he would make him eat if he +wasn't hungry. The gift of reading, he said, was too good a thing to +give him before he wished to have it, or knew the value of it. "Would +you give him a watch," he would say, "before he cares to know whether +the sun rises in the east or the west, or at what hour dinner will be +ready?" + +Now I am not very sure how this would work with some boys and girls. I +am afraid they might never learn to read until they had boys and girls +of their own whom they wanted to be better off than, because of their +ignorance, they had been themselves. But it worked well in Willie's +case, who was neither lazy nor idle. And it must not be supposed that +he was left without any education at all. For one thing, his father +and mother used to talk very freely before him--much more so than most +parents do in the presence of their children; and nothing serves better +for teaching than the conversation of good and thoughtful people. While +they talked, Willie would sit listening intently, trying to understand +what he heard; and although it not unfrequently took very strange shapes +in his little mind, because at times he understood neither the words +nor the things the words represented, yet there was much that he did +understand and make a good use of. For instance, he soon came to know +that his father and mother had very little money to spare, and that his +father had to work hard to get what money they had. He learned also that +everything that came into the house, or was done for them, cost money; +therefore, for one thing, he must not ill-use his clothes. He learned, +too, that there was a great deal of suffering in the world, and that his +father's business was to try to make it less, and help people who were +ill to grow well again, and be able to do their work; and this made him +see what a useful man his father was, and wish to be also of some good +in the world. Then he looked about him and saw that there were a great +many ways of getting money, that is, a great many things for doing which +people would give money; and he saw that some of those ways were better +than others, and he thought his father's way the very best of all. I +give these as specimens of the lessons he learned by listening to his +father and mother as they talked together. But he had another teacher. + +Down the street of the village, which was very straggling, with nearly +as many little gardens as houses in it, there was a house occupied by +several poor people, in one end of which, consisting just of a room and +a closet, an old woman lived who got her money by spinning flax into +yarn for making linen. She was a kind-hearted old creature--widow, +without any relation near to help her or look after her. She had had one +child, who died before he was as old as Willie. That was forty years +before, but she had never forgotten her little Willie, for that was his +name too, and she fancied our Willie was like him. Nothing, therefore, +pleased her better than to get him into her little room, and talk to +him. She would take a little bit of sugar-candy or liquorice out of her +cupboard for him, and tell him some strange old fairy tale or legend, +while she sat spinning, until at last she had made him so fond of her +that he would often go and stay for hours with her. Nor did it make much +difference when his mother begged Mrs Wilson to give him something +sweet only now and then, for she was afraid of his going to see the old +woman merely for what she gave him, which would have been greedy. But +the fact was, he liked her stories better than her sugar-candy and +liquorice; while above all things he delighted in watching the wonderful +wheel go round and round so fast that he could not find out whether her +foot was making it spin, or it was making her foot dance up and down +in that curious way. After she had explained it to him as well as she +could, and he thought he understood it, it seemed to him only the more +wonderful and mysterious; and ever as it went whirring round, it sung a +song of its own, which was also the song of the story, whatever it was, +that the old woman was telling him, as he sat listening in her high soft +chair, covered with long-faded chintz, and cushioned like a nest. For +Mrs Wilson had had a better house to live in once, and this chair, as +well as the chest of drawers of dark mahogany, with brass handles, that +stood opposite the window, was part of the furniture she saved when she +had to sell the rest; and well it was, she used to say, for her old +rheumatic bones that she had saved the chair at least. In that chair, +then, the little boy would sit coiled up as nearly into a ball as might +be, like a young bird or a rabbit in its nest, staring at the wheel, and +listening with two ears and one heart to its song and the old woman's +tale both at once. + + +[Illustration: "WILLIE LIKED MRS WILSON'S STORIES BETTER THAN HER SUGAR +CANDY."] + + +One sultry summer afternoon, his mother not being very well and having +gone to lie down, his father being out, as he so often was, upon +Scramble the old horse, and Tibby, their only servant, being busy with +the ironing, Willie ran off to Widow Wilson's, and was soon curled up +in the chair, like a little Hindoo idol that had grown weary of sitting +upright, and had tumbled itself into a corner. + +Now, before he came, the old woman had been thinking about him, and +wishing very much that he would come; turning over also in her mind, as +she spun, all her stock of stories, in the hope of finding in some nook +or other one she had not yet told him; for although he had not yet begun +to grow tired even of those he knew best, it was a special treat to have +a new one; for by this time Mrs Wilson's store was all but exhausted, +and a new one turned up very rarely. This time, however, she was +successful, and did call to mind one that she had not thought of before. +It had not only grown very dusty, but was full of little holes, which +she at once set about darning up with the needle and thread of her +imagination, so that, by the time Willie arrived, she had a treat, as +she thought, quite ready for him. + +I am not going to tell you the story, which was about a poor boy who +received from a fairy to whom he had shown some kindness the gift of a +marvelous wand, in the shape of a common blackthorn walking-stick, which +nobody could suspect of possessing such wonderful virtue. By means of +it, he was able to do anything he wished, without the least trouble; and +so, upon a trial of skill, appointed by a certain king, in order to find +out which of the craftsmen of his realm was fittest to aid him in ruling +it, he found it easy to surpass every one of them, each in his own +trade. He produced a richer damask than any of the silk-weavers; a finer +linen than any of the linen-weavers; a more complicated as well as +ornate cabinet, with more drawers and quaint hiding-places, than any of +the cabinet-makers; a sword-blade more cunningly damasked, and a hilt +more gorgeously jewelled, than any of the sword-makers; a ring set with +stones more precious, more brilliant in colour, and more beautifully +combined, than any of the jewellers: in short, as I say, without knowing +a single device of one of the arts in question, he surpassed every one +of the competitors in his own craft, won the favour of the king and the +office he wished to confer, and, if I remember rightly, gained at length +the king's daughter to boot. + +For a long time Willie had not uttered a single exclamation, and when +the old woman looked up, fancying he must be asleep, she saw, to her +disappointment, a cloud upon his face--amounting to a frown. + +"What's the matter with you, Willie, my chick?" she asked. "Have you got +a headache?" + +"No, thank you, Mrs Wilson," answered Willie; "but I don't like that +story at all." + +"I'm sorry for that. I thought I should be sure to please you this time; +it is one I never told you before, for I had quite forgotten it myself +till this very afternoon. Why don't you like it?" + +"Because he was a cheat. _He_ couldn't do the things; it was only the +fairy's wand that did them." + +"But he was such a good lad, and had been so kind to the fairy." + +"That makes no difference. He _wasn't_ good. And the fairy wasn't good +either, or she wouldn't have set him to do such wicked things." + +"They weren't wicked things. They were all first-rate--everything that +he made--better than any one else could make them." + +"But he didn't make them. There wasn't one of those poor fellows he +cheated that wasn't a better man than he. The worst of them could do +something with his own hands, and I don't believe he could do anything, +for if he had ever tried he would have hated to be such a sneak. He +cheated the king, too, and the princess, and everybody. Oh! shouldn't +I like to have been there, and to have beaten him wand and all! For +somebody might have been able to make the things better still, if he had +only known how." + +Mrs Wilson was disappointed--perhaps a little ashamed that she had not +thought of this before; anyhow she grew cross; and because she was +cross, she grew unfair, and said to Willie-- + +"You think a great deal of yourself, Master Willie! Pray what could +those idle little hands of yours do, if you were to try?" + +"I don't know, for I haven't tried," answered Willie. + +"It's a pity you shouldn't," she rejoined, "if you think they would turn +out so very clever." + +She didn't mean anything but crossness when she said this--for which +probably a severe rheumatic twinge which just then passed through +her shoulder was also partly to blame. But Willie took her up quite +seriously, and asked in a tone that showed he wanted it accounted for-- + +"Why haven't I ever done anything, Mrs Wilson?" + +"You ought to know that best yourself," she answered, still cross. "I +suppose because you don't like work. Your good father and mother work +very hard, I'm sure. It's a shame of you to be so idle." + +This was rather hard on a boy of seven, for Willie was no more then. It +made him look very grave indeed, if not unhappy, for a little while, as +he sat turning over the thing in his mind. + +"Is it wrong to play about, Mrs Wilson?" he asked, after a pause of +considerable duration. + +"No, indeed, my dear," she answered; for during the pause she had begun +to be sorry for having spoken so roughly to her little darling. + +"Does everybody work?" + +"Everybody that's worth anything, and is old enough," she added. + +"Does God work?" he asked, after another pause, in a low voice. + +"No, child. What should He work for?" + +"If everybody works that is good and old enough, then I think God must +work," answered Willie. "But I will ask my papa. Am I old enough?" + +"Well, you're not old enough to do much, but you might do something." + +"What could I do? Could I spin, Mrs Wilson?" + +"No, child; that's not an easy thing to do; but you could knit." + +"Could I? What good would it do?" + +"Why, you could knit your mother a pair of stockings." + +"Could I though? Will you teach me, Mrs Wilson?" + +Mrs Wilson very readily promised, foreseeing that so she might have a +good deal more of the little man's company, if indeed he was in earnest; +for she was very lonely, and was never so happy as when he was with +her. She said she would get him some knitting-needles--wires she called +them--that very evening; she had some wool, and if he came to-morrow, +she would soon see whether he was old enough and clever enough to learn +to knit. She advised him, however, to say nothing about it to his mother +till she had made up her mind whether or not he could learn; for if he +could, then he might surprise her by taking her something of his own +knitting--at least a pair of muffetees to keep her wrists warm in the +winter. Willie went home solemn with his secret. + +The next day he began to learn, and although his fingers annoyed him a +good deal at first by refusing to do exactly as he wanted them, they +soon became more obedient; and before the new year arrived, he had +actually knitted a pair of warm white lamb's-wool stockings for his +mother. I am bound to confess that when first they were finished they +were a good deal soiled by having been on the way so long, and perhaps +partly by the little hands not always being so clean as they might +have been when he turned from play to work; but Mrs Wilson washed them +herself, and they looked, if not as white as snow, at least as white +as the whitest lamb you ever saw. I will not attempt to describe the +delight of his mother, the triumph of Willie, or the gratification of +his father, who saw in this good promise of his boy's capacity; for all +that I have written hitherto is only introductory to my story, and I +long to begin and tell it you in a regular straightforward fashion. + +Before I begin, however, I must not forget to tell you that Willie did +ask his father the question with Mrs Wilson's answer to which he had not +been satisfied--I mean the question whether God worked; and his father's +answer, after he had sat pondering for a while in his chair, was +something to this effect:-- + +"Yes, Willie; it seems to me that God works more than anybody--for He +works all night and all day, and, if I remember rightly, Jesus tells +us somewhere that He works all Sunday too. If He were to stop working, +everything would stop being. The sun would stop shining, and the moon +and the stars; the corn would stop growing; there would be no more +apples or gooseberries; your eyes would stop seeing; your ears would +stop hearing; your fingers couldn't move an inch; and, worst of all, +your little heart would stop loving." + +"No, papa," cried Willie; "I shouldn't stop loving, I'm sure." + +"Indeed you would, Willie." + +"Not you and mamma." + +"Yes; you wouldn't love us any more than if you were dead asleep without +dreaming." + +"That would be dreadful." + +"Yes it would. So you see how good God is to us--to go on working, that +we may be able to love each other." + +"Then if God works like that all day long, it must be a fine thing to +work," said Willie. + +"You are right. It is a fine thing to work--the finest thing in the +world, if it comes of love, as God's work does." + +This conversation made Willie quite determined to learn to knit; for if +God worked, he would work too. And although the work he undertook was a +very small work, it was like all God's great works, for every loop he +made had a little love looped up in it, like an invisible, softest, +downiest lining to the stockings. And after those, he went on knitting +a pair for his father; and indeed, although he learned to work with a +needle as well, and to darn the stockings he had made, and even tried +his hand at the spinning--of which, however, he could not make much for +a long time--he had not left off knitting when we come to begin the +story in the next chapter. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +HE IS TURNED INTO SOMETHING HE NEVER WAS BEFORE. + +Hitherto I have been mixing up summer and winter and everything all +together, but now I am going to try to keep everything in its own place. + +Willie was now nine years old. His mother had been poorly for some +time--confined to her room, as she not unfrequently was in the long cold +winters. It was winter now; and one morning, when all the air was dark +with falling snow, he was standing by the parlour window, looking out +on it, and wondering whether the angels made it up in the sky; for he +thought it might be their sawdust, which, when they had too much, they +shook down to get melted and put out of the way; when Tibby came into +the room very softly, and looking, he thought, very strange. + +"Willie, your mamma wants you," she said; and Willie hastened up-stairs +to his mother's room. Dark as was the air outside, he was surprised to +find how dark the room was. And what surprised him more was a curious +noise which he heard the moment he entered it, like the noise of a +hedgehog, or some other little creature of the fields or woods. But he +crept gently up to his mother's bed, saying-- + +"Are you better this morning, mamma?" + +And she answered in a feeble sweet voice-- + +"Yes, Willie, very much better. And, Willie, God has sent you a little +sister." + +"O-o-o-oh!" cried Willie. "A little sister! Did He make her Himself?" + +"Yes; He made her Himself; and sent her to you last night." + +"How busy He must have been lately!" said Willie. "Where is she? I +_should_ like to see her. Is she my very own sister?" + +"Yes, your very own sister, Willie--to love and take care of always." + +"Where is she?" + +"Go and ask nurse to let you see her." + +Then Willie saw that there was a strange woman in the room, with +something lying on her lap. He went up to her, and she folded back the +corner of a blanket, and revealed a face no bigger than that of the big +doll at the clergyman's house, but alive, quite alive--such a pretty +little face! He stood staring at it for a while. + +"May I kiss her, nurse?" + +"Yes--gently--quite gently." + +He kissed her, half afraid, he did not know of what. Her cheek was +softer and smoother than anything he had ever touched before. He sped +back to his mother, too full of delight to speak. But she was not +yet well enough to talk to him, and his father coming in, led him +down-stairs again, where he began once more to watch the snow, wondering +now if it had anything to do with baby's arrival. + +In the afternoon, it was found that the lock of his mother's room not +only would not catch easily, but made a noise that disturbed her. So his +father got a screwdriver and removed it, making as little noise as he +could. Next he contrived a way, with a piece of string, for keeping the +door shut, and as that would not hold it close enough, hung a shawl over +it to keep the draught out--all which proceeding Willie watched. As soon +as he had finished, and the nurse had closed the door behind them, Mr +Macmichael set out to take the lock to the smithy, and allowed Willie to +go with him. By the time they reached it, the snow was an inch deep on +their shoulders, on Willie's cap, and on his father's hat. How red the +glow of the smith's fire looked! It was a great black cavern with a red +heart to it in the midst of whiteness. + +The smith was a great powerful man, with bare arms, and blackened face. +When they entered, he and two other men were making the axle of a wheel. +They had a great lump of red-hot iron on the anvil, and were knocking a +big hole through it--not boring it, but knocking it through with a big +punch. One of the men, with a pair of tongs-like pincers, held the punch +steady in the hole, while the other two struck the head of it with +alternate blows of mighty hammers called sledges, each of which it took +the strength of two brawny arms to heave high above the head with a +great round swing over the shoulder, that it might come down with right +good force, and drive the punch through the glowing iron, which was, +I should judge, four inches thick. All this Willie thought he could +understand, for he knew that fire made the hardest metal soft; but what +he couldn't at all understand was this: every now and then they stopped +heaving their mighty sledges, the third man took the punch out of the +hole, and the smith himself, whose name was Willet (and _will it_ he did +with a vengeance, when he had anything on the anvil before him), caught +up his tongs in his hand, then picked up a little bit of black coal with +the tongs, and dropped it into the hole where the punch had been, where +it took fire immediately and blazed up. Then in went the punch again, +and again the huge hammering commenced, with such bangs and blows, that +the smith was wise to have no floor to his smithy, for they would surely +have knocked a hole in that, though they were not able to knock the +anvil down halfway into the earth, as the giant smith in the story did. + +While this was going on, Mr Macmichael, perceiving that the operation +ought not to be interrupted any more than a surgical one, stood quite +still waiting, and Willie stood also--absorbed in staring, and gradually +creeping nearer and nearer to the anvil, for there were no sparks flying +about to make it dangerous to the eyes, as there would have been if they +had been striking the iron itself instead of the punch. + +As soon as the punch was driven through, and the smith had dropped his +sledge-hammer, and begun to wipe his forehead, Willie spoke. + +"Mr Willet," he said, for he knew every man of any standing in the +village by name and profession, "why did you put bits of coal into the +hole you were making? I should have thought it would be in the way +rather than help you." + +"So it would, my little man," answered Willet, with no grim though grimy +smile, "if it didn't take fire and keep getting out of the way all the +time it kept up the heat. You see we depend on the heat for getting +through, and it's much less trouble to drop a bit of coal or two into +the hole, than to take up the big axle and lay it in the fire again, not +to mention the time and the quantity of coal it would take to heat it up +afresh." + +"But such little bits of coal couldn't do much?" said Willie. + +"They could do enough, and all that's less after that is saving," said +the smith, who was one of those men who can not only do a thing right +but give a reason for it. "You see I was able to put the little bits +just in the right place." + +"I see! I see!" cried Willie. "I understand! But, papa, do you think Mr +Willet is the proper person to ask to set your lock right?" + +"I haven't a doubt of it," said Mr Macmichael, taking it out of his +greatcoat pocket, and unfolding the piece of paper in which he had +wrapped it. "Why do you make a question of it?" + +"Because look what great big huge things he does! How could those +tremendous hammers set such a little thing as that right? They would +knock it all to pieces. Don't you think you had better take it to the +watchmaker?" + +"If I did, Willie, do you know what you would say the moment you saw him +at work?" + +"No, papa. What should I say?" + +"You would say, 'Don't you think, papa, you had better take it back to +the smith?" + +"But why should I say that?" + +"Because, when you saw his tools beside this lock, you would think the +tools so small and the lock so huge, that nothing could be done between +them. Yet I daresay the watchmaker could set the lock all right if he +chose to try. Don't you think so, Mr Willet?" + +"Not a doubt of it," answered the smith. + +"Had we better go to him then?" + +"Well," answered the smith, smiling, "I think perhaps he would ask you +why you hadn't come to me. No doubt he could do it, but I've got better +tools for the purpose. Let me look at the lock. I'm sure I shall be able +to set it right." + +"Not with that great big hammer, then," said Willie. + +"No; I have smaller hammers than that. When do you want it, sir?" + +"Could you manage to do it at once, and let me take it home, for there's +a little baby there, just arrived?" + +"You don't mean it!" said the smith, looking surprised. "I wish you joy, +sir." + +"And this is the lock of the room she's in," continued the doctor. + +"And you're afraid of her getting out and flying off again!" said the +smith. "I will do it at once. There isn't much wrong with it, I daresay. +I hope Mrs Macmichael is doing well, sir." + +He took the lock, drew several screws from it, and then forced it open. + +"It's nothing but the spring gone," he said, as he took out something +and threw it away. + +Then he took out several more pieces, and cleaned them all. Then he +searched in a box till he found another spring, which he put in instead +of the broken one, after snipping off a little bit with a pair of +pincers. Then he put all the pieces in, put on the cover of it, gave +something a few taps with a tiny hammer, replaced the screws, and said-- + +"Shall I come and put it on for you, sir?" + +"No, no; I am up to that much," said Mr Macmichael. "I can easily manage +that. Come, Willie. I'm much obliged to you for doing it at once. +Good-night." + +Then out they went into the snowstorm again, Willie holding fast by his +father's hand. + +"This is good," said his father. "Your mother will have a better day all +to-morrow, and perhaps a longer sleep to-night for it. You see how easy +it is to be both useful and kind sometimes. The smith did more for your +mother in those few minutes than ten doctors could have done. Think of +his great black fingers making a little more sleep and rest and warmth +for her--and all in those few minutes!" + +"Suppose he couldn't have done it," said Willie. "Do you think the +watchmaker could?" + +"That I can't tell, but I don't think it likely. We should most probably +have had to get a new one." + +"Suppose you couldn't get a new one?" + +"Then we should have had to set our wits to work, and contrive some +other way of fastening the door, so that mamma shouldn't take cold by +its being open, nor yet be disturbed by the noise of it." + +"It would be so nice to be able to do everything!" said Willie. + +"So it would; but nobody can; and it's just as well, for then we should +not need so much help from each other, and would be too independent." + +"Then shouldn't a body try to do as many things as he can?" + +"Yes, for there's no fear of ever being able to do without other people, +and you would be so often able to help them. Both the smith and the +watch maker could mend a lock, but neither of them could do without the +other for all that." + +When Willie went to bed, he lay awake a long time, thinking how, if the +lock could not have been mended, and there had been no other to be had, +he could have contrived to keep the door shut properly. In the morning, +however, he told his father that he had not thought of any way that +would do, for though he could contrive to shut and open the door well +enough, he could not think how a person outside might be able to do it; +and he thought the best way, if such a difficulty should occur, would be +to take the lock off his door, and put it on mamma's till a better +one could be got. Of this suggestion his father, much to Willie's +satisfaction, entirely approved. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +HE SERVES AN APPRENTICESHIP. + +Willie's mother grew better, and Willie's sister grew bigger; and the +strange nurse went away, and Willie and his mother and Tibby, with a +little occasional assistance from the doctor, managed the baby amongst +them. Considering that she had been yet only a short time at school, +she behaved wonderfully well. She never cried except she was in some +trouble, and even then you could seldom have seen a tear on her face. +She did all that was required of her, grew longer and broader and +heavier, and was very fond of a lighted candle. The only fault she had +was that she wouldn't give Willie quite so many smiles as he wanted. As +to the view she took of affairs, she seemed for a long time to be on the +whole very well satisfied with life and its gifts. But when at last its +troubles began to overtake her, she did not approve of them at all. +The first thing she objected to was being weaned, which she evidently +considered a very cruel and unnecessary experience. But her father said +it must be, and her mother, believing him to know best, carried out his +decree. Little Agnes endured it tolerably well in the daytime, but in +the night protested lustily--was indeed so outrageously indignant, that +one evening the following conversation took place at the tea-table, +where Willie sat and heard it. + +"Really, my dear," said Mrs Macmichael, "I cannot have your rest +disturbed in this way another night. You must go to Willie's room, and +let me manage the little squalling thing myself." + +"Why shouldn't I take my share of the trouble?" objected her husband. + +"Because you may be called up any moment, and have no more sleep till +next night; and it is not fair that what sleep your work does let you +have should be so unnecessarily broken. It's not as if I couldn't manage +without you." + +"But Willie's bed is not big enough for both of us," he objected. + +"Then Willie can come and sleep with me." + +"But Willie wants his sleep as much as I do mine." + +"There's no fear of him: he would sleep though all the babies in Priory +Leas were crying in the room." + +"Would I really?" thought Willie, feeling rather ashamed of himself. + +"But who will get up and warm the milk-and-water for you?" pursued his +father. + +"Oh! I can manage that quite well." + +"Couldn't I do that, mamma?" said Willie, very humbly, for he thought of +what his mother had said about his sleeping powers. + +"No, my pet," she answered; and he said no more. + +"It seems to me," said his father, "a very clumsy necessity. I have been +thinking over it. To keep a fire in all night only to warm such a tiny +drop of water as she wants, I must say, seems like using a steam-engine +to sweep up the crumbs. If you would just get a stone bottle, fill +it with boiling water, wrap a piece of flannel about it, and lay it +anywhere in the bed, it would be quite hot enough even in the morning to +make the milk as warm as she ought to have it." + +"If you will go to Willie's room, and let Willie come and sleep with me, +I will try it," she said. + +Mr Macmichael consented; and straightway Willie was filled with silent +delight at the thought of sleeping with his mother and the baby. Nor +because of that only; for he resolved within himself that he would try +to get a share in the business of the night: why should his mother have +too little sleep rather than himself? They might at least divide the too +little between them! So he went to bed early, full of the thought of +waking up as soon as Agnes should begin to cry, and finding out what +he could do. Already he had begun to be useful in the daytime, and had +twice put her to sleep when both his mother and Tibby had failed. And +although he quite understood that in all probability he would not have +succeeded if they hadn't tried first, yet it had been some relief to +them, and they had confessed it. + +But when he woke, there lay his mother and his sister both sound asleep; +the sun was shining through the blind; he heard Tibby about the house; +and, in short, it was time to get up. + +At breakfast, his father said to him-- + +"Well, Willie, how did Agnes behave herself last night?" + +"So well!" answered Willie; "she never cried once." + +"O Willie!" said his mother, laughing, "she screamed for a whole hour, +and was so hungry after it that she emptied her bottle without stopping +once. You were sound asleep all the time, and never stirred." + +Willie was so much ashamed of himself, although he wasn't in the least +to blame, that he could hardly keep from crying. He did not say another +word, except when he was spoken to, all through breakfast, and his +father and mother were puzzled to think what could be the matter with +him: He went about the greater part of the morning moodily thinking; +then for advice betook himself to Mrs Wilson, who gave him her full +attention, and suggested several things, none of which, however, seemed +to him likely to succeed. + +"If I could but go to bed after mamma was asleep," he said, "I could tie +a string to my hair, and then slip a loop at the other end over mamma's +wrist, so that when she sat up to attend to Agnes, she would pull my +hair and wake me. Wouldn't she wonder what it was when she felt it +pulling _her_?" + +He had to go home without any help from Mrs Wilson. All the way he kept +thinking with himself something after this fashion-- + +"Mamma won't wake me, and Agnes can't; and the worst of it is that +everybody else will be just as fast asleep as I shall be. Let me +see--who _is_ there that's awake all night? There's the cat: I think +she is, but then she wouldn't know when to wake me, and even if I could +teach her to wake me the moment Agnes cried, I don't think she would +be a nice one to do it; for if I didn't come awake with a pat of her +velvety pin-cushions, she might turn out the points of the pins in them, +and scratch me awake. There's the clock; it's always awake; but it can't +tell you the time till you go and ask it. I think it might be made to +wind up a string that should pull me when the right time came; but I +don't think I could teach it. And when it came to the pull, the pull +might stop the clock, and what would papa say then? They tell me the +owls are up all night, but they're no good, I'm certain. I don't see +what I _am_ to do. I wonder if God would wake me if I were to ask Him?" + +I don't know whether Willie did or did not ask God to wake him. I did +not inquire, for what goes on of that kind, it is better not to talk +much about. What I do know is, that he fell asleep with his head and +heart full of desire to wake and help his mother; and that, in the +middle of the night, he did wake up suddenly, and there was little Agnes +screaming with all her might. He sat up in bed instantly. + +"What's the matter, Willie?" said his mother. "Lie down and go to +sleep." + +"Baby's crying," said Willie. + +"Never you mind. I'll manage her." + +"Do you know, mamma, I think I was waked up just in time to help you. +I'll take her from you, and perhaps she will take her drink from me." + +"Nonsense, Willie. Lie down, my pet." + +"But I've been thinking about it, mamma. Do you remember, yesterday, +Agnes would not take her bottle from you, and screamed and screamed; but +when Tibby took her, she gave in and drank it all? Perhaps she would do +the same with me." + + +[Illustration: "WILLIE SAT DOWN WITH THE BABY ON HIS KNEES, AND SHE +STOPPED CRYING."] + + +As he spoke he slipped out of bed, and held out his arms to take the +baby. The light was already coming in, just a little, through the blind, +for it was summer. He heard a cow lowing in the fields at the back of +the house, and he wondered whether her baby had woke her. The next +moment he had little Agnes in his arms, for his mother thought he might +as well try, seeing he was awake. + +"Do take care and don't let her fall, Willie." + +"That I will, mamma. I've got her tight. Now give me the bottle, +please." + +"I haven't got it ready yet; for you woke the minute she began to cry." + +So Willie walked about the room with Agnes till his mother had got her +bottle filled with nice warm milk-and-water and just a little sugar. +When she gave it to him, he sat down with the baby on his knees, and, +to his great delight, and the satisfaction of his mother as well, she +stopped crying, and began to drink the milk-and-water. + +"Why, you're a born nurse, Willie!" said his mother. But the moment the +baby heard her mother's voice, she forsook the bottle, and began to +scream, wanting to go to her. + +"O mamma! you mustn't speak, please; for of course she likes you better +than the bottle; and when you speak that reminds her of you. It was just +the same with Tibby yesterday. Or if you must speak, speak with some +other sound, and not in your own soft, sweet way." + +A few moments after, Willie was so startled by a gruff voice in the room +that he nearly dropped the bottle; but it was only his mother following +his directions. The plan was quite successful, for the baby had not +a suspicion that the voice was her mother's, paid no heed to it, and +attended only to her bottle. + +Mr Macmichael, who had been in the country, was creeping up the stair to +his room, fearful of disturbing his wife, when what should he hear but +a man's voice as he supposed! and what should he think but that robbers +had broken in! Of course he went to his wife's room first. There he +heard the voice plainly enough through the door, but when he opened it +he could see no one except Willie feeding the baby on an ottoman at the +foot of the bed. When his wife had explained what and why it was, +they both laughed heartily over Willie's suggestion for leaving the +imagination of little Agnes in repose; and henceforth he was installed +as night-nurse, so long as the process of weaning should last; and very +proud of his promotion he was. He slept as sound as ever, for he had no +anxiety about waking; his mother always woke him the instant Agnes began +to cry. + +"Willie!" she would say, "Willie! here's your baby wanting you." + +And up Willie would start, sometimes before he was able to open his +eyes, for little boys' eyelids are occasionally obstinate. And once he +jumped out of bed crying, "Where is she, mamma? I've lost her!" for he +had been dreaming about her. + +You may be sure his mamma let him have a long sleep in the morning +always, to make up for being disturbed in the night. + +Agnes throve well, notwithstanding the weaning. She soon got reconciled +to the bottle, and then Willie slept in peace. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +HE GOES TO LEARN A TRADE. + +Time passed, and Willie grew. Have my readers ever thought what is +meant by growing? It is far from meaning only that you get bigger and +stronger. It means that you become able both to understand and to wonder +at more of the things about you. There are people who the more they +understand, wonder the less; but such are not growing straight; they are +growing crooked. There are two ways of growing. You may be growing up, +or you may be growing down; and if you are doing both at once, then +you are growing crooked. There are people who are growing up in +understanding, but down in goodness. It is a beautiful fact, however, +that you can't grow up in goodness and down in understanding; while the +great probability is, that, if you are not growing better, you will by +and by begin to grow stupid. Those who are growing the right way, the +more they understand, the more they wonder; and the more they learn to +do, the more they want to do. Willie was a boy of this kind. I don't +care to write about boys and girls, or men and women, who are not +growing the right way. They are not interesting enough to write about. + +But he was not the only one to grow: Agnes grew as well; and the more +Willie grew capable of helping her, the more he found Agnes required of +him. It was a long time, however, before he knew how much he was obliged +to Agnes for requiring so much of him. + +She grew and grew until she was capable of a doll; when of course a doll +was given her--not a new one just bought, but a most respectable old +doll, a big one that had been her mother's when she was a little girl, +and which she had been wise enough to put in her trunk before she left +her mother's house to go home with Mr Macmichael. She made some new +clothes for it now, and Tibby made a cloak and bonnet for her to wear +when she went out of doors. But it struck Willie that her shoes, which +were only of cloth, were very unfit for walking, and he thought that in +a doctor's family it was something quite amazing that, while head and +shoulders were properly looked after, the feet should remain utterly +neglected. It was clear that must be his part in the affair; it could +not be anybody else's, for in that case some one else would have +attended to it. He must see about it. + +I think I have said before that Willie knew almost everybody in the +village, and I might have added that everybody without exception knew +him. He was a favourite--first of all, because his father was much loved +and trusted; next, because his mother spoke as kindly to her husband's +poor patients as to the richer ones; and last, because he himself spoke +to everybody with proper respect. Some of the people, however, he knew +of course better than others. Of these Mrs Wilson we know was one. But I +believe I also mentioned that in the house in which she lived there were +other poor people. In the room opposite to hers, on the ground-floor, +lived and worked a shoemaker--a man who had neither wife nor child, nor, +so far as people knew, any near relative at all. He was far from being +in good health, and although he worked from morning to night, had a +constant pain in his back, which was rather crooked, having indeed a +little hump on it. If his temper was not always of the best, I wonder +what cleverest of watches or steam-engines would go as well as he did +with such a twist in its back? To see him seated on his low stool--in +which, by the way, as if it had not been low enough, he sat in a +leather-covered hole, perhaps for the sake of the softness and spring of +the leather--with his head and body bent forward over his lapstone +or his last, and his right hand with the quick broad-headed hammer +hammering up and down on a piece of sole-leather; or with both his hands +now meeting as if for a little friendly chat about something small, +and then suddenly starting asunder as if in astonished anger, with a +portentous hiss, you might have taken him for an automaton moved by +springs, and imitating human actions in a very wonderful manner--so +regular and machine-like were his motions, and so little did he seem to +think about what he was at. A little passing attention, a hint now and +then from his head, was sufficient to keep his hands right, for they +were so used to their work, and had been so well taught by his head, +that they could pretty nearly have made a pair of shoes of themselves; +so that the shoemaking trade is one that admits of a great deal of +thought going on in the head that hangs over the work, like a sun over +the earth ripening its harvest. Shoemakers have distinguished themselves +both in poetry and in prose; and if Hector Macallaster had done so in +neither, he could yet think, and that is what some people who write both +poetry and prose cannot do. But it is of infinitely more importance to +be able to think well than merely to write ever so well; and, besides, +to think well is what everybody ought to be or to become able to do. + +Hector had odd ways of looking at things, but I need not say more about +that, for it will soon be plain enough. Ever since the illness from +which he had risen with a weak spine, and ever-working brain, and a +quiet heart, he had shown himself not merely a good sort of man, for +such he had always been, but a religious man; not by saying much, for he +was modest even to shyness with grown people, but by the solemnity of +his look when a great word was spoken, by his unblamable behaviour, and +by the readiness with which he would lend or give of his small earnings +to his poor neighbours. The only thing of which anybody could complain +was his temper; but it showed itself only occasionally, and almost +everybody made excuse for it on the ground of his bodily ailments. He +gave it no quarter himself, however. He said once to the clergyman, +to whom he had been lamenting the trouble he had with it, and who had +sought to comfort him by saying that it was caused by the weakness of +his health-- + +"No, sir--excuse me; nobody knows how much I am indebted to my crooked +back. If it weren't for that I might have a bad temper and never know +it. But that drives it out of its hole, and when I see the ugly head of +it I know it's there, and try once more to starve it to death. But oh +dear! it's such a creature to burrow! When I think I've built it in all +round, out comes its head again at a place where I never looked to see +it, and it's all to do over again!" + +You will understand by this already that the shoemaker thought after his +own fashion, which is the way everybody who can think does think. What +he thought about his trade and some other things we shall see by and by. + +When Willie entered his room, he greeted him with a very friendly nod; +for not only was he fond of children, but he had a special favour for +Willie, chiefly because he considered himself greatly indebted to him +for something he had said to Mrs Wilson, and which had given him a good +deal to think about. For Mrs Wilson often had a chat with Hector, and +then she would not unfrequently talk about Willie, of whose friendship +she was proud. She had told him of the strange question he had put to +her as to whether God worked, and the shoemaker, thinking over it, had +come to the same conclusion as Willie's father, and it had been a great +comfort and help to him. + +"What can I do for you to-day, Willie?" he said; for in that part of the +country they do not say _Master_ and _Miss_. "You look," he added, "if +you wanted something." + +"I want you to teach me, please," answered Willie. + +"To teach you what?" asked Hector. + +"To make shoes, please," answered Willie. + +"Ah! but do you think that would be prudent of me? Don't you see, if I +were to teach you to make shoes, people would be coming to you to make +their shoes for them, and what would become of me then?" + +"But I only want to make shoes for Aggy's doll. She oughtn't to go +without shoes in this weather, you know." + +"Certainly not. Well, if you will bring me the doll I will take her +measure and make her a pair." + +"But I don't think papa could afford to pay for shoes for a doll as well +as for all of us. You see, though it would be better, it's not necessary +that a doll should have strong shoes. She has shoes good enough for +indoors, and she needn't walk in the wet. Don't you think so yourself, +Hector?" + +"But," returned Hector, "I shall be happy to make Agnes a present of a +pair of shoes for her doll. I shouldn't think of charging your papa for +that. He is far too good a man to be made to pay for everything." + +"But," objected Willie, "to let you make them for nothing would be as +bad as to make papa pay for them when they are not necessary. Please, +you must let me make them for Aggy. Besides, she's not old enough yet +even to say thank you for them." + +"Then she won't be old enough to say thank you to you either," said +Hector, who, all this time, had been losing no moment from his work, but +was stitching away, with a bore, and a twiddle, and a hiss, at the sole +of a huge boot. + +"Ah! but you see, she's my own--so it doesn't matter!" + +If I were writing a big book, instead of a little one, I should be +tempted to say not only that this set Hector a thinking, but what it +made him think as well. Instead of replying, however, he laid down his +boot, rose, and first taking from a shelf a whole skin of calf-leather, +and next a low chair from a corner of the room, he set the latter near +his own seat opposite the window. + +"Sit down there, then, Willie," he said; adding, as he handed him the +calf-skin, "There's your leather, and my tools are at your service. Make +your shoes, and welcome. I shall be glad of your company." + +Having thus spoken, he sat down again, caught up his boot hurriedly, and +began stitching away as if for bare life. + +Willie took the calf-skin on his lap, somewhat bewildered. If he had +been asked to cut out a pair of seven-leagued boots for the ogre, there +would have seemed to his eyes enough of leather for them in that one +skin. But how ever was he to find two pieces small enough for doll's +shoes in such an ocean of leather? He began to turn it round and round, +looking at it all along the edge, while Hector was casting sidelong +glances at him in the midst of his busyness, with a curiosity on his +face which his desire to conceal it caused to look grim instead of +amused. + +Willie, although he had never yet considered how shoes are made, had +seen at once that nothing could be done until he had got the command of +a manageable bit of leather; he found too much only a shade better than +too little; and he saw that it wouldn't be wise to cut a piece out +anywhere, for that might spoil what would serve for a large pair of +shoes or even boots. Therefore he kept turning the skin round until he +came to a small projecting piece. This he contemplated for some time, +trying to recall the size of Dolly's feet, and to make up his mind +whether it would not be large enough for one or even for both shoes. A +smile passed over Hector's face--a smile of satisfaction. + +"That's it!" he said at last. "I think you'll do. That's the first +thing--to consider your stuff, and see how much you can make of it. +Waste is a thing that no good shoemaker ever yet could endure. It's bad +in itself, and so unworkmanlike! Yes, I think that corner will do. Shall +I cut it off for you?" + +"No, thank you--not yet, please. I think I must go and look at her feet, +for I can't recollect _quite_ how big they are. I'll just run home and +look." + +"Do you think you will be able to carry the exact size in your head, and +bring it back with you?" + +"Yes, I think I shall." + +"I don't. I never could trust myself so far as that, nearly. You might +be pretty nigh it one way and all wrong another, for you have to +consider length and breadth and roundabout. I will tell you the best way +for _you_ to do. Set the doll standing on a bit of paper, and draw a +pencil all round her foot with the point close to it on the paper. Both +feet will be better, for it would be a mistake to suppose they must be +of the same size. That will give you the size of the sole. Then take +a strip of paper and see how long a piece it takes to go round the +thickest part of the foot, and cut it off to that length. That will be +sufficient measurement for a doll's shoe, for even if it should not fit +exactly, she won't mind either being pinched a little or having to walk +a little loose." + +Willie got up at once to go and do as Hector had told him; but Hector +was not willing to part with him so soon, for it was not often he had +anybody to talk to while he went on with his work. Therefore he said-- + +"But don't you think, Willie, before you set about it, you had better +see how I do? It would be a pity to spend your labour in finding out for +yourself what shoemakers have known for hundreds of years, and which you +could learn so easily by letting me show you." + +"Thank you," said Willie, sitting down again. + +"I should like that very much. I will sit and look at you. I know what +you are doing. You are fastening on the sole of a boot." + +"Yes. Do you see how it's done?" + +"I'm not sure. I don't see yet quite. Of course I see you are sewing the +one to the other. I've often wondered how you could manage with small +shoes like mine to get in your hand to pull the needle through; but I +see you don't use a needle, and I see that you are sewing it all on the +outside of the boot, and don't put your hand inside at all. I can't get +to understand it." + +"You will in a minute. You see how, all round the edge of the upper, as +we call it, I have sewn on a strong narrow strip, so that one edge of +the strip sticks out all round, while the other is inside. To the edge +that sticks out I sew on the sole, drawing my threads so tight that when +I pare the edges off smooth, it will look like one piece, and puzzle +anybody who did not know how it was done." + +"I think I understand. But how do you get your thread so sharp and stiff +as to go through the holes you make? I find it hard enough sometimes to +get a thread through the eye of a needle; for though the thread is ever +so much smaller than yours, I have to sharpen and sharpen it often +before I can get it through. But yours, though it is so thick, keeps so +sharp that it goes through the holes at once--two threads at once--one +from each side!" + +"Ah! but I don't sharpen my thread; I put a point upon it." + +"Doesn't that mean the same thing?" + +"Well, it may generally; but _I_ don't mean the same thing by it. Look +here." + +"I see!" cried Willie; "there is a long bit of something else, not +thread, upon it. What is it? It looks like a hair, only thicker, and it +is so sharp at the point!" + +"Can't you guess?" + +"No; I can't." + +"Then I will tell you. It is a bristle out of a hog's back. I don't know +what a shoemaker would do without them. Look, here's a little bunch of +them." + +"That's a very clever use to put them to," said Willie. + +"Do you go and pluck them out of the pigs?" + +"No; we buy them at the shop. We want a good many, for they wear out. +They get too soft, and though they don't break right off, they double up +in places, so that they won't go through." + +"How do you fasten them to the thread?" + +"Look here," said Hector. + +He took several strands of thread together, and drew them through and +through a piece of cobbler's wax, then took a bristle and put it in +at the end cunningly, in a way Willie couldn't quite follow; and then +rolled and rolled threads and all over and over between his hand and his +leather apron, till it seemed like a single dark-coloured cord. + +"There, you see, is my needle and thread all in one." + +"And what is the good of rubbing it so much with the cobbler's wax?" + +"There are several good reasons for doing that. In the first place, it +makes all the threads into one by sticking them together. Next it would +be worn out before I had drawn it many times through but for the wax, +which keeps the rubbing from wearing it. The wax also protects it +afterwards, and keeps the wet from rotting it. The waxed thread fills +the hole better too, and what is of as much consequence as anything, it +sticks so that the last stitch doesn't slacken before the next comes, +but holds so tight that, although the leather is very springy, it cannot +make it slip. The two pieces are thus got so close together that they +are like one piece, as you will see when I pare the joined edges." + +I should tire my reader if I were to recount all the professional talk +that followed; for although Willie found it most interesting, and began +to feel as if he should soon be able to make a shoe himself, it is a +very different thing merely to read about it--the man's voice not in +your ears, and the work not going on before your eyes. But the shoemaker +cared for other things besides shoemaking, and after a while he happened +to make a remark which led to the following question from Willie:-- + +"Do you understand astronomy, Hector?" + +"No. It's not my business, you see, Willie." + +"But you've just been telling me so much about the moon, and the way +she keeps turning her face always to us--in the politest manner, as you +said!" + +"I got it all out of Mr Dick's book. I don't understand it. I don't know +why she does so. I know a few things that are not my business, just as +you know a little about shoemaking, that not being your business; but I +don't understand them for all that." + +"Whose business is astronomy then?" + +"Well," answered Hector, a little puzzled, "I don't see how it can well +be anybody's business but God's, for I'm sure no one else can lay a hand +to it." + +"And what's your business, Hector?" asked Willie, in a half-absent mood. + +Some readers may perhaps think this a stupid question, and perhaps so +it was; but Willie was not therefore stupid. People sometimes _appear_ +stupid because they have more things to think about than they can well +manage; while those who think only about one or two things may, on the +contrary, _appear_ clever when just those one or two things happen to be +talked about. + +"What is my business, Willie? Why, to keep people out of the dirt, of +course." + +"How?" asked Willie again. + +"By making and mending their shoes. Mr Dick, now, when he goes out to +look at the stars through his telescope, might get his death of cold if +his shoemaker did not know his business. Of the general business, it's a +part God keeps to Himself to see that the stars go all right, and that +the sun rises and sets at the proper times. For the time's not the same +any two mornings running, you see, and he might make a mistake if he +wasn't looked after, and that would be serious. But I told you I don't +understand about astronomy, because it's not my business. I'm set to +keep folk's feet off the cold and wet earth, and stones and broken +glass; for however much a man may be an astronomer and look up at the +sky, he must touch the earth with some part of him, and generally does +so with his feet." + +"And God sets you to do it, Hector?" + +"Yes. It's the way He looks after people's feet. He's got to look after +everything, you know, or everything would go wrong. So He gives me the +leather and the tools and the hands--and I must say the head, for it +wants no little head to make a _good_ shoe to measure--and it is as if +He said to me--'There! you make shoes, while I keep the stars right.' +Isn't it a fine thing to have a hand in the general business?" + +And Hector looked up with shining eyes in the face of the little boy, +while he pulled at his rosin-ends as if he would make the boot strong +enough to keep out evil spirits. + +"I think it's a fine thing to have to make nice new shoes," said Willie; +"but I don't think I should like to mend them when they are soppy and +muddy and out of shape." + +"If you would take your share in the general business, you mustn't be +particular. It won't do to be above your business, as they say: for my +part, I would say _below_ your business. There's those boots in the +corner now. They belong to your papa. And they come next. Don't you +think it's an honour to keep the feet of such a good man dry and warm as +he goes about from morning to night comforting people? Don't you think +it's an honour to mend boots for _him_, even if they should be dirty?" + +"Oh, yes--for _papa_!" said Willie, as if his papa must be an exception +to any rule. + +"Well," resumed Hector, "look at these great lace-boots. I shall have to +fill the soles of them full of hobnails presently. They belong to the +best ploughman in the parish--John Turnbull. Don't you think it's an +honour to mend boots for a man who makes the best bed for the corn to +die in?" + +"I thought it was to grow in," said Willie. + +"All the same," returned Hector. "When it dies it grows--and not till +then, as you will read in the New Testament. Isn't it an honour, I say, +to mend boots for John Turnbull?" + +"Oh, yes--for John Turnbull! I know John," said Willie, as if it made +any difference to his merit whether Willie knew him or not! + +"And there," Hector went on, "lies a pair of slippers that want +patching. They belong to William Webster, the weaver, round the corner. +They're very much down at heel too. But isn't it an honour to patch or +set up slippers for a man who keeps his neighbours in fine linen all the +days of their lives?" + +"Yes, yes. I know William. It must be nice to do anything for William +Webster." + +"Suppose you didn't know him, would that make any difference?" + +"No," said Willie, after thinking a little. "Other people would know him +if I didn't." + +"Yes, and if nobody knew him, God would know him; and anybody God has +thought worth making, it's an honour to do anything for. Believe me, +Willie, to have to keep people's feet dry and warm is a very important +appointment." + +"Your own shoes aren't very good, Hector," said Willie, who had been +casting glances from time to time at his companion's feet, which were +shod in a manner that, to say the least of it, would have prejudiced no +one in favour of his handiwork. "Isn't it an honour to make shoes for +yourself Hector?" + +"There can't be much honour in doing anything for yourself," replied +Hector, "so far as I can see. I confess my shoes are hardly decent, but +then I can make myself a pair at any time; and indeed I've been thinking +I would for the last three months, as soon as a slack time came; but +I've been far too busy as yet, and, as I don't go out much till after +it's dusk, nobody sees them." + +"But if you should get your feet wet, and catch cold?" + +"Ah! that might be the death of me!" said Hector. "I really must make +myself a pair. Well now--let me see--as soon as I have mended those two +pairs--I can do them all to-morrow--I will begin. And I'll tell you +what," he added, after a thoughtful pause, "if you'll come to me the day +after to-morrow, I will take that skin, and cut out a pair of shoes for +myself, and you shall see how I do it, and everything about the making +of them;--yes, you shall do some part of them yourself, and that shall +be your first lesson in shoemaking." + +"But Dolly's shoes!" suggested Willie. + +"Dolly can wait a bit. She won't take _her_ death of cold from wet feet. +And let me tell you it is harder to make a small pair well than a large +pair. You will do Dolly's ever so much better after you know how to make +a pair for me." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +HOW WILLIE LEARNED TO READ BEFORE HE KNEW HIS LETTERS. + +The next day his thoughts, having nothing particular to engage them, +kept brooding over two things. These two things came together all at +once, and a resolution was the consequence. I shall soon explain what I +mean. + +The one thing was, that Hector had shown considerable surprise when +he found that Willie could not read. Now Willie was not in the least +ashamed that he could not read: why should he be? It was nowhere written +in the catechism he had learnt that it was his duty to be able to read; +and if the catechism had merely forgotten to mention it, his father and +mother would have told him. Neither was it a duty he ought to have +known of himself--for then he would have known it. So why should he be +ashamed? + +People are often ashamed of what they need not be ashamed of. Again, +they are often not at all ashamed of what they ought to be ashamed of, +and will turn up their faces to the sun when they ought to hide them in +the dust. If, for instance, Willie had ever put on a sulky face when his +mother asked him to hold the baby for her, that would have been a thing +for shame of which the skin of his face might well try to burn itself +off; but not to be able to read before he had even been made to think +about it, was not at all a thing to be ashamed of: it would have been +more of a shame to be ashamed. Now that it had been put into his head, +however, to think what a good thing reading was, all this would apply no +longer. It was a very different thing now. + +The other subject which occupied his thoughts was this: + +Everybody was so kind to him--so ready to do things for him--and, what +was of far more consequence, to teach him to do them himself; while he, +so far as he could think, did nothing for anybody! That could not be +right; it _could_ not be--for it was not reasonable. Not to mention his +father and mother, there was Mrs Wilson, who had taught him to knit, and +even given him a few lessons in spinning, though that had not come to +much; and here was Hector Macallaster going to teach him to make shoes; +and not one thing that he could think of was he capable of doing in +return! This must be looked into, for things could not be allowed to go +on like that. All at once it struck him that Hector had said, with some +regret in his voice, that though he had plenty of time to think, he had +very little time to read; also that although he could see well enough by +candlelight to work at his trade, he could not see well enough to read. +What a fine thing it would be to learn to read to Hector! It would be +such fun to surprise him too, by all at once reading him something! + +The sun was not at his full height when Willie received this +illumination. Before the sun went down he knew and could read at sight +at least a dozen words. + +For the moment he saw that he ought to learn to read, he ran to his +mother, and asked her to teach him. She was delighted, for she had begun +to be a little doubtful whether his father's plan of leaving him alone +till he wanted to learn was the right one. But at that precise moment +she was too busy with something that must be done for his father to +lay it down and begin teaching him his letters. Willie was so eager to +learn, however, that he could not rest without doing something towards +it. He bethought himself a little--then ran and got Dr Watts's hymns for +children. He knew "How doth the little busy bee" so well as to be able +to repeat it without a mistake, for his mother had taught it him, and he +had understood it. You see, he was not like a child of five, taught to +repeat by rote lines which could give him no notions but mistaken ones. +Besides, he had a good knowledge of words, and could use them well in +talk, although he could not read; and it is a great thing if a child can +talk well before he begins to learn to read. + +He opened the little book at the Busy Bee, and knowing already enough to +be able to divide the words the one from the other, he said to himself-- + +"The first word must be _How_. There it is, with a gap between it +and the next word. I will look and see if I can find another _How_ +anywhere." + +He looked a long time before he found one; for the capital H was in the +way. Of course there were a good many _how's_, but not many with a big +H, and he didn't know that the little _h_ was just as good for the mere +word. Then he looked for _doth_, and he found several _doth's_. +Of _the's_ he found as great a swarm as if they had been the bees +themselves with which the little song was concerned. _Busy_ was scarce; +I am not sure whether he found it at all; but he looked at it until he +was pretty sure he should know it again when he saw it. After he had +gone over in this way every word of the first verse, he tried himself, +by putting his finger at random here and there upon it, and seeing +whether he could tell the word it happened to touch. Sometimes he could, +and sometimes he couldn't. However, as I said, before the day was over, +he knew at least a dozen words perfectly well at sight. + +Nor let any one think this was other than a great step in the direction +of reading. It would be easy for Willie afterwards to break up these +words into letters. + +It took him two days more--for during part of each he was learning to +make shoes--to learn to know anywhere every word he had found in that +hymn. + +Next he took a hymn he had not learned, and applied to his mother when +he came to a word he did not know, which was very often. As soon as +she told him one, he hunted about until he found another and another +specimen of the same, and so went on until he had fixed it quite in his +mind. + +At length he began to compare words that were like each other, and +by discovering wherein they looked the same, and wherein they looked +different, he learned something of the sound of the letters. For +instance, in comparing _the_ and _these_, although the one sound of the +two letters, _t_ and _h_, puzzled him, and likewise the silent _e_, he +conjectured that the _s_ must stand for the hissing sound; and when he +looked at other words which had that sound, and perceived an _s_ in +every one of them, then he was sure of it. His mother had no idea how +fast he was learning; and when about a fortnight after he had begun, she +was able to take him in hand, she found, to her astonishment, that he +could read a great many words, but that, when she wished him to spell +one, he had not the least notion what she meant. + +"Isn't that a _b_?" she said, wishing to help him to find out a certain +word for himself. + +"I don't know," answered Willie. "It's not the busy bee," he added, +laughing;--"I should know him. It must be the lazy one, I suppose." + +"Don't you know your letters?" asked his mother. + +"No, mamma. Which are they? Are the rest yours and papa's?" + +"Oh, you silly dear!" she said. + +"Of course I am!" he returned;--"very silly! How could any of them be +mine before I know the names of them! When I know them all, then they'll +all be mine, I suppose--and everybody else's who knows them.--So that's +Mr B--is it?" + +"Yes. And that's C," said his mother. + +"I'm glad to see you, Mr C," said Willie, merrily, nodding to the +letter. "We shall know each other when we meet again.--I suppose this is +D, mamma. How d'e do, Mr D? And what's this one with its mouth open, and +half its tongue cut off?" + +His mother told him it was E. + +"Then this one, with no foot to stand on, is Fe, I suppose." + +His mother laughed; but whoever gave it the name it has, would have done +better to call it Fe, as Willie did. It would be much better also, in +teaching children, at least, to call H, He, and W, We, and Y, Ye, and Z, +Ze, as Willie called them. But it was easy enough for him to learn their +names after he knew so much of what they could _do_. + +What gave him a considerable advantage was, that he had begun with +verse, and not dry syllables and stupid sentences. The music of the +verse repaid him at once for the trouble of making it out--even before +he got at the meaning, while the necessity of making each line go right, +and the rhymes too, helped him occasionally to the pronunciation of a +word. + +The farther he got on, the faster he got on; and before six weeks were +over, he could read anything he was able to understand pretty well at +sight. + +By this time, also, he understood all the particulars as to how a shoe +is made, and had indeed done a few stitches himself, a good deal of +hammering both of leather and of hob-nails, and a little patching, at +which last the smallness of his hands was an advantage. + +At length, one day, he said to the shoemaker-- + +"Shall I read a little poem to you, Hector?" + +"You told me you couldn't read, Willie." + +"I can now though." + +"Do then," said Hector. + +Looking for but a small result in such a short time, he was considerably +astonished to find how well the boy could read; for he not merely gave +the words correctly, but the sentences, which is far more difficult; +that is, he read so that Hector could understand what the writer meant. +It is a great thing to read well. Few can. Whoever reads aloud and does +not read well, is a sort of deceiver; for he pretends to introduce one +person to another, while he misrepresents him. + +In after life, Willie continued to pay a good deal of attention not +merely to reading for its own sake, but to reading for the sake of other +people, that is, to reading aloud. As often as he came, in the course of +his own reading, to any verse that he liked very much, he always read +it aloud in order to teach himself how it ought to be read; doing his +best--first, to make it sound true, that is, to read it according to the +sense; next, to make it sound beautiful, that is, to read it according +to the measure of the verse and the melody of the words. + +He now read a great deal to Hector. There came to be a certain time +every day at which Willie Macmichael was joyfully expected by the +shoemaker--to read to him for an hour and a half--beyond which time his +father did not wish the reading to extend. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +SOME THINGS THAT CAME OF WILLIE'S GOING TO SCHOOL. + +When his father found that he had learned to read, then he judged it +good for him to go to school. Willie was very much pleased. His mother +said she would make him a bag to carry his books in; but Willie said +there was no occasion to trouble herself; for, if she would give him the +stuff, he would make it. So she got him a nice bit of green baize, and +in the afternoon he made his bag--no gobble-stitch work, but good, +honest back-stitching, except the string-case, which was only run, that +it might draw easier and tighter. He passed the string through with a +bodkin, fixed it in the middle, tied the two ends, and carried the bag +to his mother, who pronounced it nearly as well made as if she had done +it herself. + +At school he found it more and more plain what a good thing it is that +we haven't to find out every thing for ourselves from the beginning; +that people gather into books what they and all who went before them +have learned, so that we come into their property, as it were; and, +after being taught of them, have only to begin our discoveries from +where they leave off. In geography, for instance, what a number of +voyages and journeys have had to be made, and books to record them +written; then what a number of these books to be read, and the facts +gathered out of them, before a single map could be drawn, not to say a +geography book printed! Whereas now he could learn a multitude of things +about the various countries, their peoples and animals and plants, their +mountains and rivers and lakes and cities, without having set his foot +beyond the parish in which he was born. And so with everything else +after its kind. But it is more of what Willie learned to do than what he +learned to know that I have to treat. + +When he went to school, his father made him a present of a pocket-knife. +He had had one before, but not a very good one; and this, having three +blades, all very sharp, he found a wonderful treasure of recourse. His +father also bought him a nice new slate. + +Now there was another handy boy at school, a couple of years older than +Willie, whose father was a carpenter. He had cut on the frame of +his slate, not his initials only, but his whole name and +address,--_Alexander Spelman, Priory Leas_. Willie thought how nice it +would be with his new knife also to cut his name on his slate; only +he would rather make some difference in the way of doing it. What if, +instead of sinking the letters in the frame, he made them stand up from +the frame by cutting it away to some depth all round them. There was not +much originality in this, for it was only reversing what Spelman had +done; but it was more difficult, and would, he thought, be prettier. +Then what was he thus to carve? One would say, "Why, _William +Macmichael_, of course, and, if he liked, _Priory Leas_" But Willie was +a peculiar little fellow, and began to reason with himself whether he +had any right to put his own name on the slate. "My father did not give +me the slate," he said, "to be my very own. He gave me the knife like +that, but not the slate. When I am grown up, it will belong to Agnes. +What shall I put on it? What's mine's papa's, and what's papa's is his +own," argued Willie.--"_I_ know!" he said to himself at last. + +The boys couldn't imagine what he meant to do when they saw him draw +first a D and then an O on the frame. But when they saw a C and a T +follow, they thought what a conceited little prig Willie was! + +"Do you think you're a doctor because your father is, you little ape?" +they said. + +"No, no," answered Willie, laughing heartily, but thinking, as he went +on with his work, that he might be one some day. + +When the drawing of the letters was finished, there stood, all round the +slate, "_Doctor Macmichael's Willie, The Ruins, Priory Leas_." + +Then out came his knife. But it was a long job, for Willie was not one +of those slovenly boys that _scamp_ their work. Such boys are nothing +but soft, pulpy creatures, who, when they grow to be men, will be too +soft for any of the hard work of the world. They will be fit only for +buffers, to keep the working men from breaking their heads against each +other in their eagerness. But the carving was at length finished, +and gave much satisfaction--first to Willie himself, because it was +finished; next, to Alexander Spelman, Priory Leas, because, being a +generous-minded boy, he admired Willie's new and superior work; third, +to Mr and Mrs Macmichael, because they saw in it, not the boy's faculty +merely, but his love to his father as well; for the recognition of a +right over us is one of the sweetest forms love can take. "_I am yours_" +is the best and greatest thing one can say, if to the right person. + +It led to a strong friendship between him and Spelman, and to his going +often to the workshop of the elder Spelman, the carpenter. + +He was a solemn, long-faced, and long-legged man, with reddish hair and +pale complexion, who seldom or ever smiled, and at the bench always +looked as if he were standing on a stool, he stooped so immoderately. A +greater contrast than that between him and the shoemaker could hardly +have been found, except in this, that the carpenter also looked sickly. +He was in perfect health, however, only oppressed with the cares of his +family, and the sickness of his wife, who was a constant invalid, with +more children her husband thought than she could well manage, or he well +provide for. But if he had thought less about it he would have got on +better. He worked hard, but little fancied how many fewer strokes of +his plane he made in an hour just because he was brooding over his +difficulties, and imagining what would be the consequences if this or +that misfortune were to befall him--of which he himself sought and +secured the shadow beforehand, to darken and hinder the labour which +might prevent its arrival. But he was a good man nevertheless, for his +greatest bugbear was debt. If he could only pay off every penny he owed +in the world, and if only his wife were so far better as to enjoy life a +little, he would, he thought, be perfectly happy. His wife, however, was +tolerably happy, notwithstanding her weak health, and certainly enjoyed +life a good deal--far more at least than her husband was able to +believe. + +Mr Macmichael was very kind and attentive to Mrs Spelman; though, as the +carpenter himself said, he hadn't seen the colour of _his_ money for +years. But the Doctor knew that Spelman was a hard-working man, and +would rather have given him a little money than have pressed him for a +penny. He told him one day, when he was lamenting that he couldn't pay +him even _yet_, that he was only too glad to do anything in the least +little bit like what the Saviour did when he was in the world--"a +carpenter like you, Spelman--think of that," added the Doctor. + +So Spelman was as full of gratitude as he could hold. Except Hector +Macallaster, the Doctor was almost his only creditor. Medicine and shoes +were his chief trials: he kept on paying for the latter, but the debt +for the former went on accumulating. + +Hence it came that when Willie began to haunt his shop, though he had +hardly a single smile to give the little fellow, he was more than +pleased;--gave him odds and ends of wood; lent him whatever tools he +wanted except the adze--that he would not let him touch; would drop him +a hint now and then as to the use of them; would any moment stop his own +work to attend to a difficulty the boy found himself in; and, in short, +paid him far more attention than he would have thought required of him +if Willie had been his apprentice. + +From the moment he entered the workshop, Willie could hardly keep his +hands off the tools. The very shape of them, as they lay on the bench or +hung on the wall, seemed to say over and over, "Come, use me; come, use +me." They looked waiting, and hungry for work. They wanted stuff to +shape and fashion into things, and join into other things. They wanted +to make bigger tools than themselves--for ploughing the earth, for +carrying the harvest, or for some one or other of ten thousand services +to be rendered in the house or in the fields. It was impossible for +Willie to see the hollow lip of the gouge, the straight lip of the +chisel, or the same lip fitted with another lip, and so made into the +mouth of the plane, the worm-like auger, or the critical spokeshave, +the hammer which will have it so, or the humble bradawl which is its +pioneer--he could see none of them without longing to send his life into +theirs, and set them doing in the world--for was not this what their +dumb looks seemed ever to implore? At that time young Spelman was busy +making a salt-box for his mother out of the sound bits of an old oak +floor which his father had taken up because it was dry-rotted. It was +hard wood to work, but Willie bore a hand in planing the pieces, and was +initiated into the mysteries of dovetailing and gluing. Before the lid +was put on by the hinges, he carved the initials of the carpenter and +his wife in relief upon it, and many years after they used to show +his work. But the first thing he set about making for himself was a +water-wheel. + +If he had been a seaside boy, his first job would have been a boat; +if he had lived in a flat country, it would very likely have been a +windmill; but the most noticeable thing in that neighbourhood was a mill +for grinding corn driven by a water-wheel. + +When Willie was a tiny boy, he had gone once with Farmer Thomson's man +and a load of corn to see the mill; and the miller had taken him all +over it. He saw the corn go in by the hopper into the trough which was +the real hopper, for it kept constantly hopping to shake the corn down +through a hole in the middle of the upper stone, which went round and +round against the lower, so that between them they ground the corn to +meal, which, in the story beneath, he saw pouring, a solid stream like +an avalanche, from a wooden spout. But the best of it all was the wheel +outside, and the busy rush of the water that made it go. So Willie would +now make a water-wheel. + + +[Illustration: WILLIE IS TAKEN TO SEE A WATER-WHEEL.] + + +The carpenter having given him a short lecture on the different kinds +of water-wheels, he decided on an undershot, and with Sandy's help +proceeded to construct it--with its nave of mahogany, its spokes of +birch, its floats of deal, and its axle of stout iron-wire, which, as +the friction would not be great, was to run in gudgeon-blocks of some +hard wood, well oiled. These blocks were fixed in a frame so devised +that, with the help of a few stones to support it, the wheel might be +set going in any small stream. + +There were many tiny brooks running into the river, and they fixed upon +one of them which issued from the rising ground at the back of the +village: just where it began to run merrily down the hill, they +constructed in its channel a stonebed for the water-wheel--not by any +means for it to go to sleep in! + +It went delightfully, and we shall hear more of it by and by. For the +present, I have only to confess that, after a few days, Willie got tired +of it--and small blame to him, for it was of no earthly use beyond +amusement, and that which can only amuse can never amuse long. I think +the reason children get tired of their toys so soon is just that it is +against human nature to be really interested in what is of no use. If +you say that a beautiful thing is always interesting, I answer, that a +beautiful thing is of the highest use. Is not a diamond that flashes all +its colours into the heart of a poet as useful as the diamond with which +the glazier divides the sheets of glass into panes for our windows? +Anyhow, the reason Willie got tired of his water-wheel was that it went +round and round, and did nothing but go round. It drove no machinery, +ground no grain of corn--"did nothing for _no_body," Willie said, +seeking to be emphatic. So he carried it home, and put it away in a +certain part of the ruins where he kept odds and ends of things that +might some day come in useful. + +Mr Macmichael was so devoted to his profession that he desired nothing +better for Willie than that he too should be a medical man, and he was +more than pleased to find how well Willie's hands were able to carry out +his contrivances; for he judged it impossible for a country doctor to +have too much mechanical faculty. The exercise of such a skill alone +might secure the instant relief of a patient, and be the saving of him. +But, more than this, he believed that nothing tended so much to develop +common sense--the most precious of faculties--as the doing of things +with the hands. Hence he not only encouraged Willie in everything he +undertook, but, considering the five hours of school quite sufficient +for study of that sort, requested the master not to give him any lessons +to do at home. So Willie worked hard during school, and after it had +plenty of time to spend in carpentering, so that he soon came to use +all the common bench-tools with ease, and Spelman was proud of his +apprentice, as he called him--so much so, that the burden of his debt +grew much lighter upon his shoulders. + +But Willie did not forget his older friend, Hector Macallaster. Every +half-holiday he read to him for a couple of hours, chiefly, for some +time, from Dick's Astronomy. Neither of them understood all he read, but +both understood much, and Hector could explain some of the things that +puzzled Willie. And when he found that everything went on in such order, +above and below and all about him, he began to see that even a thing +well done was worth a good deal more when done at the right moment or +within the set time; and that the heavens themselves were like a great +clock, ordering the time for everything. + +Neither did he give up shoemaking, for he often did a little work for +Hector, who had made him a leather apron, and cut him out bits of stout +leather to protect his hands from the thread when he was sewing. For +twelve months, however, his chief employment lay in the workshop of the +carpenter. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +WILLIE DIGS AND FINDS WHAT HE DID NOT EXPECT. + +He had been reading to Hector Sir Walter Scott's "Antiquary," in which +occurs the narration of a digging for treasure in ruins not unlike +these, only grander. It was of little consequence to Willie that no +treasure had been found there: the propriety of digging remained the +same; for in a certain spot he had often fancied that a hollow sound, +when he stamped hard, indicated an empty place underneath. I believe +myself that it came from above, and not from beneath; for although a +portion of the vaulted roof of the little chamber had been broken +in, the greater part of it still remained, and might have caused a +reverberation. The floor was heaped up with fallen stones and rubbish. + +One Wednesday afternoon, instead of going to Hector, whom he had told +not to expect him, he got a pickaxe and spade, and proceeded to dig in +the trodden heap. At the first blow of the pickaxe he came upon large +stones--the job of clearing out which was by no means an easy one--so +far from it, indeed, that, after working for half an hour, and only +getting out two large and half a dozen smaller ones, he resolved to ask +Sandy Spelman to help him. So he left his pickaxe with one point fast +between two stones, and ran to the shop. Sandy was at work, but his +father was quite willing to let him go. Willie told them he was digging +for a treasure, and they all laughed over it; but at the same time +Willie thought with himself--"Who knows? People _have_ found treasures +buried in old places like that. The Antiquary did not--but he is only in +a story, not in a _high story_" (for that was Willie's derivation of the +word _history_). "The place sounds likely enough. Anyhow, where's the +harm in trying?" + +They were both so eager--for Sandy liked the idea of digging in the +ruins much better than the work he was at--that they set off at full +speed the moment they were out of the shop, and never slackened until +they stood panting by the anchored pickaxe, upon which Spelman pounced, +and being stronger than Willie, and more used to hard work, had soon +dislodged both the stones which held it. They were so much larger, +however, than any Willie had come upon before, that they had to roll +them out of the little chamber, instead of lifting them; after which +they got on better, and had soon piled a good heap against the wall +outside. After they had had their tea, they set to work again, and +worked till the twilight grew dark about them--by which time they had +got the heap down to what seemed the original level of the floor. Still +there were stones below, but what with fatigue and darkness, they were +now compelled to stop, and Sandy went home, after promising to come as +early as he could in the morning and call Willie, who was to leave the +end of a string hanging out of the staircase window, whose other end +should pass through the keyhole of his door and be tied to his wrist. He +seemed to have hardly been in bed an hour, when he woke with his arm at +full length, and the pulling going on as if it would pull him out of +bed. He tugged again in reply, and jumped out. + +It was a lovely summer morning--the sun a few yards up the sky; the +grass glittering with dew; the birds singing as if they were singing +their first and would sing their last; the whole air, even in his little +room, filled with a cool odour as of blessed thoughts, and just warm +enough to let him know that the noontide would be hot. And there was +Sandy waiting in the street to help him dig for the treasure! In a +few minutes he had opened the street door and admitted him. They went +straight to the scene of their labour. + +Having got out a few more stones, they began to fancy they heard a +curious sound, which they agreed was more like that of running water +than anything else they could think of. Now, except a well in the +street, just before the cottage, there was no water they knew of much +nearer than the river, and they wondered a good deal. + +At length Sandy's pickaxe got hold of a stone which he could not move, +do what he would. He tried another, and succeeded, but soon began to +suspect that there was some masonry there. Contenting himself therefore +with clearing out only the loose stones, he soon found plainly enough +that he was working in a narrow space, around which was a circular +wall of solid stone and lime. The sound of running water was now clear +enough, and the earth in the hole was very damp. Sandy had now got down +three or four feet below the level. + +"It's an old well," he said. "There can be no doubt of it." + +"Does it smell bad?" asked Willie, peeping down disappointed. + +"Not a bit," answered Sandy. + +"Then it's not stagnant," said Willie. + +"You might have told that by your ears without troubling your nose," +said Sandy. "Didn't you hear it running?" + +"How can it be running when it's buried away down there?" said Willie. + +"How can it make a noise if it isn't running?" retorted Sandy--to which +question Willie attempted no reply. + +It was now serious work to get the stones up, for Sandy's head only was +above the level of the ground; it was all he could do to lift some of +the larger ones out of the hole, and Willie saw that he must contrive to +give him some help. He ran therefore to the house, and brought a rope +which he had seen lying about. One end of it Sandy tied round whatever +stone was too heavy for him, and Willie, laying hold of the other, +lifted along with him. They got on faster now, and in a few minutes +Sandy exclaimed-- + +"Here it is at last!" + +"The treasure?" cried Willie. "Oh, jolly!" + +Sandy burst out laughing, and shouted-- + +"The water!" + +"Bother the water!" growled Willie. "But go on, Sandy; the iron chest +may be at the bottom of the water, you know." + +"All very well for you up there!" retorted Sandy. "But though I can get +the stones out, I can't get the water out. And I've no notion of diving +where there's pretty sure to be nothing to dive for. Besides, a body +can't dive in a stone pipe like this. I should want weights to sink +me, and I mightn't get them off in time. I want my breakfast dreadful, +Willie." + +So saying, he scrambled up the side of the well, and the last of him +that appeared, his boots, namely, bore testimony enough to his having +reached the water. Willie peered down into the well, and caught the +dull glimmer of it through the stones; then, a good deal disappointed, +followed Sandy as he strode away towards the house. + +"You'll come and have your breakfast with me, Sandy, won't you?" he said +from behind him. + +"No, thank you," answered Sandy. "I don't like any porridge but my +mother's." + +And without looking behind him, he walked right through the cottage, and +away home. + +Before Willie had finished his porridge, he had got over his +disappointment, and had even begun to see that he had never really +expected to find a treasure. Only it would have been fun to hand it over +to his father! + +All through morning school, however, his thoughts would go back to the +little vault, so cool and shadowy, sheltering its ancient well from the +light that lorded it over all the country outside. No doubt the streams +rejoiced in it, but even for them it would be too much before the +evening came to cool and console them; while the slow wells in the +marshy ground up on the mountains must feel faint in an hour of its +burning eye. This well had always been, and always would be, cool and +blessed and sweet, like--like a precious thing you can only think about. +And wasn't it a nice thing to have a well of your own? Tibby needn't go +any more to the village pump--which certainly was nearer, but stood in +the street, not in their own ground. Of course, as yet, she could not +draw a bucketful, for the water hardly came above the stones; but he +would soon get out as many as would make it deep enough--only, if it was +all Sandy could do to get out the big ones, and that with his help too, +how was he to manage it alone? There was the rub! + +I must go back a little to explain how he came to think of a plan. + +After Hector and he had gone as far in Dr Dick's astronomy as they could +understand, they found they were getting themselves into what seemed +quite a jungle of planets, and suns, and comets, and constellations. + +"It seems to me," said the shoemaker, "that to understand anything you +must understand everything." + +So they laid the book aside for the present; and Hector, searching about +for another with which to fill up the remainder of the afternoon, came +upon one in which the mechanical powers were treated after a simple +fashion. + +Of this book Willie had now read a good deal. I cannot say that he had +yet come to understand the mechanical power so thoroughly as to see +that the lever and the wheel-and-axle are the same in kind, or that the +screw, the inclined plane, and the wedge are the same power in different +shapes; but he did understand that while a single pulley gives you no +advantage except by enabling you to apply your strength in the most +effective manner, a second pulley takes half the weight off you. Hence, +with the difficulty in which he now found himself, came at once the +thought of a block with a pulley in it, which he had seen lying about +in the carpenter's shop. He remembered also that there was a great iron +staple or _eye_ in the vault just over the well; and if he could only +get hold of a second pulley, the thing was as good as done--the well as +good as cleared out to whatever depth he could reach below the water. + +As soon as school was over, he ran to Mr Spelman, and found to his +delight that he could lend him not only that pulley but another as well. +Each ran in a block which had an iron hook attached to it. With the aid +of a ladder he put the hook of one of the blocks through the staple, and +then fastened the end of his rope to the block. Next he got another bit +of rope, and having pulled off his shoes and stockings, and got down +into the well, tied it round the largest stone within reach, loosely +enough to allow the hook of the second pulley to lay hold of it. Then, +as a sailor would say, he rove the end of the long rope through this +block, and getting up on the ladder again, rove it also through the +first block which he had left hanging to the staple. All preparations +thus completed, he stood by the well, and hauled away at the rope. It +came slipping through the pulleys, and up rose the stone from the well +as if by magic. As soon as it came clear of the edge, he drew it towards +him, lowered it to the ground, took off its rope collar, and rolled it +out of the doorway. Then he got into the well again, tied the collar +about another stone, drew down the pulley, thrust its hook through the +collar, got out of the well, and hauled up the second stone. + +In this way he had soon got out so many that he was standing far above +his ankles in the water, which was so cold that he was glad to get out +to pull up every stone. By this time it was perfectly explained how the +water made a noise, for he saw it escape by an opening in the side of +the well. + +He came at last to a huge stone, round which it was with difficulty he +managed to fasten the rope. He had to pull away smaller stones from +beneath it, and pass the rope through under it. Having lifted it a +little way with the powerful help of his tackle, to try if all was right +before he got out to haul in earnest, he saw that his knot was slipping, +and lowered the stone again so as to set it on one end, leaning against +the side of the well--when he discovered that his rope collar had got so +frayed, that one of the strands was cut through; it would probably break +and let the stone fall again into the well, when he would still more +probably tumble after it. He was getting tired too, and it was growing +very dusky in the ruins. He thought it better to postpone further +proceedings, and getting out of the well, caught up his shoes and +stockings, and went into the house. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +A MARVEL. + + +Early the next morning Mr Macmichael, as he was dressing, heard a laugh +of strange delight in the garden, and, drawing up the blind, looked +out. There, some distance off, stood Willie, the one moment staring +motionless at something at his feet, the other dancing and skipping and +singing, but still looking down at something at his feet. His father +could not see what this something was, for Willie was on the other side +of one of the mounds, and was turning away to finish his dressing, when +from another direction a peculiar glitter caught his eye. + +"What can this mean?" he said to himself. "Water in the garden! There's +been no rain; and there's neither river nor reservoir to overflow! I can +hardly believe my eyes!" + +He hurried on the remainder of his clothes, and went out. But he had not +gone many steps when what should he meet but a merry little brook coming +cantering down between two of the mounds! It had already worn itself +a channel in the path. He followed it up, wondering much, bewildered +indeed; and had got to a little turfy hollow, down the middle of which +it came bubbling and gabbling along, when Willie caught sight of +him, and bounded to meet him with a radiant countenance and almost +inarticulate cries of delight. + +"Am I awake, Willie? or am I dreaming?" he asked. + +"Wide awake, papa," answered Willie. + +"Then what is the meaning of this? _You_ seem to be in the secret: where +does this water come from? I feel as if I were in a fairy tale." + +"Isn't it lovely?" cried Willie. "I'll show you where it comes from. +This way. You'll spoil your boots there. Look at the rhubarb-bed; it's +turned into a swamp." + +"The garden will be ruined," said his father. + +"No, no, papa; we won't let it come to that. I've been watching it. +There's no soil carried away yet. Do come and see." + +In mute astonishment, his father followed. + +As I have already described it, the ground was very uneven, with many +heights and hollows, whence it came that the water took an amazing +number of twists and turns. Willie led his father as straight as he +could, but I don't know how often they crossed the little brook before +they came to where, from the old stone shaft, like the crater of a +volcano, it rolled over the brim, an eruption of cool, clear, lucid +water. Plenteous it rose and overflowed, like a dark yet clear molten +gem, tumbling itself into the open world. How deliciously wet it looked +in the shadow I---how it caught the sun the moment it left the chamber, +grew merry, and trotted and trolled and cantered along! + +"Is this _your_ work, Willie?" asked his father, who did not know which +of twenty questions to ask first. + +"Mostly," said Willie. + +"You little wizard! what have you been about? I can't understand it. We +must make a drain for it at once." + +"Bury a beauty like that in a drain!" cried Willie. "O papa!" + +"Well, I don't know what else to do with it. How is it that it never +found its way out before--somewhere or other?" + +"I'll soon show you that," said Willie. "I'll soon send it about its +business." + +He had thought, when he first saw the issuing water, that the weight +of the fallen stones and the hard covering of earth being removed, the +spring had burst out with tenfold volume and vigour; but had satisfied +himself by thinking about it, that the cause of the overflow must be the +great stone he had set leaning against the side the last thing before +dropping work the previous night: it must have blocked up the opening, +and prevented the water from getting out as fast as before, that is, as +fast as the spring rose. Therefore he now laid hold of the rope, which +was still connected with the stone, and, not aware of how the water +would help him by partly floating it, was astonished to find how easily +he moved it. At once it swung away from the side into the middle of the +well; the water ceased to run over the edge, with a loud gurgling began +to sink, and sank down and down and down until the opening by which it +escaped was visible. + +"Ah! now, now I understand!" cried Mr Macmichael. "It's the old well of +the Priory you've come upon, you little burrowing mole." + +"Sandy helped me out with the stones. I thought there might be a +treasure down there, and that set me digging. It was a funny treasure to +find--wasn't it? No treasure could have been prettier though." + +"If this be the Prior's Well, and all be true they said about it in old +times," returned his father, "it may turn out a greater treasure than +you even hoped for, Willie. Why, as I found some time ago in an old book +about the monasteries of the country, people used to come from great +distances to drink the water of the Prior's Well, believing it a cure +for every disease under the sun. Run into the house and fetch me a jug." + +"Yes, papa," said Willie, and bounded off. + +There was no little brook careering through the garden now--only a few +pools here and there--and its channel would soon be dry in the hot sun. +But Willie thought how delightful it was to be able to have one there +whenever he pleased. And it might be a much bigger brook too, for, +instead of using the stone which could but partly block the water from +the underground way, he would cut a piece of wood large enough to cover +the opening, and rounded a little to fit the side of the well; then he +would put the big stone just so far from the opening that the piece of +wood could get through between it and the side of the well, and so be +held tight. Then all the water would be forced to mount up, get out at +the top, and run through the garden. + +Meantime Mr Macmichael, having gone to see what course the water +had taken, and how it had left the garden, found that, after a very +circuitous route, it had run through the hedge into a surface drain in +the field, and so down the hill towards the river. + +When Willie brought him the jug, he filled it from the well, and carried +the water into his surgery. There he put a little of it into several +different glasses, and dropping something out of one bottle into one +glass, and something out of another bottle into another glass, soon +satisfied himself that it contained medicinal salts in considerable +quantities. There could be no doubt that Willie had found the Prior's +Well. + +"It's a good thing," said his father at breakfast, "that you didn't +flood the house, Willie! One turn more and the stream would have been in +at the back-door." + +"It wouldn't have done much harm," said Willie. "It would have run along +the slabs in the passage and out again, for the front door is lower than +the back. It would have been such fun!" + +"You mischievous little thing!" said his mother, pretending to scold +him,--"you don't think what trouble you would have given Tibby!" + +"But wouldn't it have been fun? And wouldn't it have been +lovely--running through the house all the hot summer day?" + +"There may be a difference of opinion about that, Master Willie," said +his mother. "You, for instance, might like to walk through water every +time you went from the parlour to the kitchen, but I can't say I +should." + +Curious to know whether the village pump might not be supplied from his +well, Mr Macmichael next analysed the water of that also, and satisfied +himself that there was no connection between them. Within the next +fortnight Willie discovered that as often as the stream ran through the +garden, the little brook in which he had set his water-wheel going was +nearly dry. + +He had soon made a nice little channel for it, so that it should not get +into any of the beds. He laid down turf along its banks in some parts, +and sowed grass and daisy-seed in others; and when he found a pretty +stone or shell, or bit of coloured glass or bright crockery or broken +mirror, he would always throw it in, that the water might have the +prettier path to run upon. Indeed, he emptied his store of marbles into +it. He was not particularly fond of playing with marbles, but he had a +great fancy for those of real white marble with lovely red streaks, and +had collected some twenty or thirty of them. He kept them in the brook +now, instead of in a calico bag. + +The summer was a very hot and dry one. More than any of the rest of the +gardens in the village, that of The Ruins suffered from such weather; +for not only was there a deep gravel-bed under its mould, but a good +part of its produce grew on the mounds, which were mostly heaps of +stones, and neither gravel nor stones could retain much moisture. Willie +watered it a good deal out of the Prior's Well; but it was hard work, +and did not seem to be of much use. + +One evening, when he had set the little brook free to run through the +garden, and the sun was setting huge and red, with the promise of +another glowing day to-morrow, and the air was stifling, and not a +breath of wind stirring, so that the flowers hung their heads oppressed, +and the leaves and little buttons of fruit on the trees looked ready to +shrivel up and drop from the boughs, the thought came to him whether he +could not turn the brook into a little Nile, causing it to overflow its +banks and enrich the garden. He could not, of course, bring it about in +the same way; for the Nile overflows from the quantities of rain up in +the far-off mountains, making huge torrents rush into it faster than its +channel, through a slow, level country, can carry the water away, so +that there is nothing for it but overflow. If, however, he could not +make more water run out of the well, he could make it more difficult +for what did come from it to get away. First, he stopped up the outlet +through the hedge with stones, and clay, and bits of board; then watched +as it spread, until he saw where it would try to escape next, and did +the same; and so on, taking care especially to keep it from the house. +The mounds were a great assistance to him in hemming it in, but he had +hard enough work of it notwithstanding; and soon perceived that at one +spot it would get the better of him in a few minutes, and make straight +for the back-door. He ran at once and opened the sluice in the well, and +away the stream gurgled underground. + +Before morning the water it left had all disappeared. It had soaked +through the mounds, and into the gravel, but comforting the hot roots as +it went, and feeding them with dissolved minerals. Doubtless, also, it +lay all night in many a little hidden pool, which the heat of the next +day's sun drew up, comforting again, through the roots in the earth, and +through the leaves in the air, up into the sky. Willie could not help +thinking that the garden looked refreshed; the green was brighter, +he thought, and the flowers held up their heads a little better; the +carrots looked more feathery, and the ferns more palmy; everything +looked, he said, just as he felt after a good drink out of the Prior's +Well. At all events, he resolved to do the same every night after sunset +while the hot weather lasted--that was, if his father had no objection. + +Mr Macmichael said he might try it, only he must mind and not go to bed +and leave the water running, else they would have a cartload of mud in +the house before morning. + +So Willie strengthened and heightened his barriers, and having built a +huge one at the last point where the water had tried to get away, as +soon as the sun was down shut the sluice, and watched the water as it +surged up in the throat of the well, and rushed out to be caught in the +toils he had made for it. Before it could find a fresh place to get out +at, the whole upper part of the garden was one network of lakes and +islands. + +Willie kept walking round and round it, as if it had been a wild beast +trying to get out of its cage, and he had to watch and prevent it at +every weak spot; or as if he were a magician, busily sustaining the +charm by which he confined the gad-about creature. The moment he saw it +beginning to get the better of him, he ran to the sluice and banished it +to the regions below. Then he fetched an old newspaper, and sitting down +on the borders of his lake, fashioned boat after boat out of the paper, +and sent them sailing like merchant ships from isle to blooming isle. + +Night after night he flooded the garden, and always before morning the +water had sunk away through the gravel. Soon there was no longer +any doubt that everything was mightily refreshed by it; the look of +exhaustion and hopelessness was gone, and life was busy in flower and +tree and plant. This year there was not a garden, even on the banks of +the river, to compare with it; and when the autumn came, there was more +fruit than Mr Macmichael remembered ever to have seen before. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +A NEW ALARUM. + +Willie was always thinking what uses he could put things to. Only he +was never tempted to set a fine thing to do dirty work, as dull-hearted +money-grubbers do--mill-owners, for instance, when they make the channel +of a lovely mountain-stream serve for a drain to carry off the filth +from their works. If Dante had known any such, I know where he would +have put them, but I would rather not describe the place. I have told +you what Willie made the prisoned stream do for the garden; I will now +tell you what he made the running stream do for himself, and you shall +judge whether or not that was fit work for him to require of it. + +Ever since he had ceased being night-nurse to little Agnes, he had +wished that he had some one to wake him every night, about the middle of +it, that he might get up and look out of the window. For, after he had +fed his baby-sister and given her back to his mother in a state of +contentment, before getting into bed again he had always looked out +of the window to see what the night was like--not that he was one bit +anxious about the weather, except, indeed, he heard his papa getting up +to go out, or knew that he had to go; for he could enjoy weather of +any sort and all sorts, and never thought what the next day would be +like--but just to see what Madame Night was thinking about--how she +looked, and what she was doing. For he had soon found her such a +changeful creature that, every time he looked at her, she looked at him +with another face from that she had worn last time. Before he had made +this acquaintance with the night, he would often, ere he fell asleep, +lie wondering what he was going to dream about; for, with all his +practical tendencies, Willie was very fond of dreaming; but after he had +begun in this manner to make acquaintance with her, he would just as +often fall asleep wondering what the day would be dreaming about--for, +in his own fanciful way of thinking, he had settled that the look of +the night was what the day was dreaming. Hence, when Agnes required +his services no longer, he fell asleep the first night with the full +intention of waking just as before, and getting up to have a peep into +the day's dream, whatever it might be, that night, and every night +thereafter. But he was now back in his own room, and there was nothing +to wake him, so he slept sound until the day had done dreaming, and the +morning was wide awake. + +Neither had he awoke any one night since, or seen what marvel there +might be beyond his windowpanes. + +Does any little boy or girl wonder what there can be going on when we +are asleep? Sometimes the stars, sometimes the moon, sometimes the +clouds, sometimes the wind, sometimes the snow, sometimes the frost, +sometimes all of them together, are busy. Sometimes the owl and the moth +and the beetle, and the bat and the cat and the rat, are all at work. +Sometimes there are flowers in bloom that love the night better than the +day, and are busy all through the darkness pouring out on the still air +the scent they withheld during the sunlight. Sometimes the lightning and +the thunder, sometimes the moon-rainbow, sometimes the aurora borealis, +is busy. And the streams are running all night long, and seem to babble +louder than in the day time, for the noises of the working world are +still, so that we hear them better. Almost the only daylight thing +awake, is the clock ticking with nobody to heed it, and that sounds to +me very dismal. But it was the look of the night, the meaning on her +face that Willie cared most about, and desired so much to see, that he +was at times quite unhappy to think that he never could wake up, not +although ever so many strange and lovely dreams might be passing before +his window. He often dreamed that he had waked up, and was looking out +on some gorgeous and lovely show, but in the morning he knew sorrowfully +that he had only dreamed his own dream, not gazed into that of the +sleeping day. Again and again he had worked his brains to weariness, +trying and trying to invent some machine that should wake him. But +although he was older and cleverer now, he fared no better than when he +wanted to wake himself to help his mother with Agnes. He must have some +motive power before he could do anything, and the clock was still the +only power he could think of, and that he was afraid to meddle with, for +its works were beyond him, and it was so essential to the well-being of +the house that he would not venture putting it in jeopardy. + +One day, however, when he was thinking nothing about it, all at once +it struck him that he had another motive power at his command, and the +thought had hardly entered his mind, before he saw also how it was +possible to turn it to account. His motive power was the stream from the +Prior's Well, and the means of using it for his purpose stood on a shelf +in the ruins, in the shape of the toy water-wheel which he had laid +aside as distressingly useless. He set about the thing at once. + +First of all, he made a second bit of channel for the stream, like a +little loop to the first, so that he could, when he pleased, turn a part +of the water into it, and let it again join the principal channel a +little lower down. This was, in fact, his mill-race. Just before it +joined the older part again, right opposite his window, he made it run +for a little way in a direct line towards the house, and in this part +of the new channel he made preparations for his water-wheel. Into the +channel he laid a piece of iron pipe, which had been lying about useless +for years; and just where the water would issue in a concentrated rush +from the lower end of it, he constructed a foundation for his wheel, +similar to that Sandy and he had built for it before. The water, as it +issued from the pipe, should strike straight upon its floats, and send +it whirling round. It took him some time to build it, for he wanted this +to be a good and permanent job. He had stones at command: he had a +well, he said, that yielded both stones and water, which was more than +everybody could say; and in order to make it a sound bit of work, he +fetched a lump of quick-lime from the kiln, where they burned quantities +of it to scatter over the clay-soil, and first wetting it with water +till it fell into powder, and then mixing it with sand which he riddled +from the gravel he dug from the garden, he made it into good strong +mortar. When its bed was at length made for it, he took the wheel and +put in a longer axis, to project on one side beyond the gudgeon-block, +or hollow in which it turned; and upon this projecting piece he fixed a +large reel. Then, having put the wheel in its place, he asked his father +for sixpence, part of which he laid out on a large ball of pack-thread. +The outside end of the ball he fastened to the reel, then threw the +ball through the open window into his room, and there undid it from the +inside end, laying the thread in coils on the floor. When it was time to +go to bed, he ran out and turned the water first into the garden, and +then into the new channel; when suddenly the wheel began to spin about, +and wind the pack-thread on to the reel. He ran to his room, and +undressed faster than he had ever done before, tied the other end of the +thread around his wrist, and, although kept awake much longer than usual +by his excitement, at length fell fast asleep, and dreamed that the +thread had waked him, and drawn him to the window, where he saw the +water-wheel flashing like a fire-wheel, and the water rushing away from +under it in a green flame. When he did wake it was broad day; the coils +of pack-thread were lying on the floor scarcely diminished; the brook +was singing in the garden, and when he went to the window, he saw the +wheel spinning merrily round. He dressed in haste, ran out, and found +that the thread had got entangled amongst the bushes on its way to the +wheel, and had stuck fast; whereupon the wheel had broken it to get +loose, and had been spinning round and round all night for nothing, like +the useless thing it was before. + +That afternoon he set poles up for guides, along the top of which the +thread might run, and so keep clear of the bushes. But he fared no +better the next night, for he never waked until the morning, when he +found that the wheel stood stock still, for the thread, having filled +the reel, had slipped off, and so wound itself about the wheel that it +was choked in its many windings. Indeed, the thread was in a wonderful +tangle about the whole machine, and it took him a long time to +unwind--turning the wheel backwards, so as not to break the thread. + +In order to remove the cause of this fresh failure, he went to the +turner, whose name was William Burt, and asked him to turn for him a +large reel or spool, with deep ends, and small cylinder between. William +told him he was very busy just then, but he would fix a suitable piece +of wood for him on his old lathe, with which, as he knew him to be a +handy boy, he might turn what he wanted for himself. This was his first +attempt at the use of the turning-lathe; but he had often watched +William at work, and was familiar with the way in which he held his +tool. Hence the result was tolerably satisfactory. Long before he had +reached the depth of which he wished to make the spool, he had learned +to manage his chisel with some nicety. Burt finished it off for him with +just a few touches; and, delighted with his acquisition of the rudiments +of a new trade, he carried the spool home with him, to try once more the +possibility of educating his water-wheel into a watchman. + +That night the pull did indeed come, but, alas before he had even fallen +asleep. + +Something seemed to be always going wrong! He concluded already that it +was a difficult thing to make a machine which should do just what the +maker wished. The spool had gone flying round, and had swallowed up the +thread incredibly fast. He made haste to get the end off his wrist, and +saw it fly through the little hole in the window frame, and away after +the rest of it, to be wound on the whirling spool. + +Disappointing as this was, however, there was progress in it: he had got +the thing to work, and all that remained was to regulate it. But this +turned out the most difficult part of the affair by far. He saw at once +that if he were only to make the thread longer, which was the first mode +that suggested itself, he would increase the constant danger there was +of its getting fouled, not to mention the awkwardness of using such a +quantity of it. If the kitten were to get into the room, for instance, +after he had laid it down, she would ruin his every hope for the time +being; and in Willie's eyes sixpence was a huge sum to ask from his +father. But if, on the contrary, he could find out any mode of making +the machine wind more slowly, he might then be able to shorten instead +of lengthening the string. + +At length, after much pondering, he came to see that if, instead of the +spool, he were to fix on the axis a small cogged wheel--that is, a wheel +with teeth--and then make these cogs fit into the cogs of a much larger +wheel, the small wheel, which would turn once with every turn of the +water-wheel, must turn a great many times before it could turn the big +wheel once. Then he must fix the spool on the axis of this great slow +wheel, when, turning only as often as the wheel turned, the spool would +wind the thread so much the more slowly. + +I will not weary my reader with any further detail of Willie's efforts +and failures. It is enough to say that he was at last so entirely +successful in timing his machine, for the run of the water was always +the same, that he could tell exactly how much thread it would wind in a +given time. Having then measured off the thread with a mark of ink for +the first hour, two for the second, and so on, he was able to set his +alarum according to the time at which he wished to be woke by the pull +at his wrist. + +But if any one had happened to go into the garden after the household +was asleep, and had come upon the toy water-wheel, working away in +starlight or moonlight, how little, even if he had caught sight of the +nearly invisible thread, and had discovered that the wheel was winding +it up, would he have thought what the tiny machine was about! How little +would he have thought that its business was with the infinite! that it +was in connection with the window of an eternal world--namely, Willie's +soul--from which at a given moment it would lift the curtains, namely, +the eyelids, and let the night of the outer world in upon the thought +and feeling of the boy! To use a likeness, the wheel was thus ever +working to draw up the slide of a _camera obscura_, and let in whatever +pictures might be abroad in the dreams of the day, that the watcher +within might behold them. + +Indeed, one night as he came home from visiting a patient, soon after +Willie had at length taught his watchman his duty, Mr Macmichael did +come upon the mill, and was just going to turn the water off at the +well, which he thought Willie had forgotten to do, when he caught +sight of the winding thread--for the moon was full, and the Doctor was +sharp-sighted. + +"What _can_ this be now?" he said to himself. "Some new freak of +Willie's, of course. Yes; the thread goes right up to his window! I +dare say if I were to stop and watch I should see something happen in +consequence. But I am too tired, and must go to bed." + +Just as he thought thus with himself, the wheel stopped. The next moment +the blind of Willie's window was drawn up, and there stood Willie, his +face and his white gown glimmering in the moonlight. He caught sight of +his father, and up went the sash. + +"O papa!" he cried; "I didn't think it was you I was going to see!" + +"Who was it then you thought to see?" asked his father. + +"Oh, nobody!--only the night herself, and the moon perhaps." + +"What new freak of yours is this, my boy?" said his father, smiling. + +"Wait a minute, and I'll tell you all about it," answered Willie. + +Out he came in his night-shirt, his bare feet dancing with pleasure at +having his father for his midnight companion. On the grass, beside the +ruins, in the moonlight, by the gurgling water, he told him all about +it. + +"Yes, my boy; you are right," said his father. "God never sleeps; and it +would be a pity if we never saw Him at his night-work." + + +[Illustration: "ON THE GRASS, BESIDE THE RUINS, IN THE MOONLIGHT, WILLIE +TOLD HIS FATHER ALL ABOUT IT."] + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +SOME OF THE SIGHTS WILLIE SAW. + +I fancy some of my readers would like to hear what were some of the +scenes Willie saw on such occasions. The little mill went on night after +night--almost everynight in the summer, and those nights in the +winter when the frost wasn't so hard that it would have frozen up the +machinery. But to attempt to describe the variety of the pictures Willie +saw would be an endless labour. + +Sometimes, when he looked out, it was a simple, quiet, thoughtful night +that met his gaze, without any moon, but as full of stars as it could +hold, all flashing and trembling through the dew that was slowly sinking +down the air to settle upon the earth and its thousand living things +below. On such a night Willie never went to bed again without wishing to +be pure in heart, that he might one day see the God whose thought had +taken the shape of such a lovely night. For although he could not have +expressed himself thus at that time, he felt that it must be God's +thinking that put it all there. + +Other times, the stars would be half blotted out--all over the +heavens--not with mist, but with the light of the moon. Oh, how lovely +she was!--so calm! so all alone in the midst of the great blue ocean! +the sun of the night! She seemed to hold up the tent of the heavens in a +great silver knot. And, like the stars above, all the flowers below had +lost their colour and looked pale and wan, sweet and sad. It was just +like what the schoolmaster had been telling him about the Elysium of the +Greek and Latin poets, to which they fancied the good people went when +they died--not half so glad and bright and busy as the daylight world +which they had left behind them, and to which they always wanted to go +back that they might eat and drink and be merry again--but oh, so tender +and lovely in its mournfulness! + +Several times in winter, looking out, he saw a strange sight--the air so +full of great snowflakes that he could not see the moon through them, +although her light was visible all about them. They came floating slowly +down through the dusky light, just as if they had been a precipitate +from that solution of moonbeams. He could hardly persuade himself to go +to bed, so fascinating was the sight; but the cold would drive him to +his nest again. + +Once the wheel-watchman pulled him up in the midst of a terrible +thunder-storm--when the East and the West were answering each other with +alternate flashes of forked lightning that seemed to split the +black clouds with cracks of blinding blue, awful in their blasting +silence--followed by great, billowy, shattering rolls of thunder, as +loud as if the sky had been a huge kettledrum, on which the clubs of +giant drummers were beating a terrible onset; while at sudden intervals, +down came the big-dropped rain, pattering to the earth as if beaten +out of the clouds by the blows of the thunder. But Willie was not +frightened, though the lightning blinded and the thunder deafened +him--not frightened any more than the tiniest flower in the garden +below, which, if she could have thought about it, would have thought it +all being done only that she might feel cooler and stronger, and be able +to hold up her head better. + +And once he saw a glorious dance of the aurora borealis--in all the +colours of a faint rainbow. The frosty snow sparkled underneath, and the +cold stars of winter sparkled above, and between the snow and the stars, +shimmered and shifted, vanished and came again, a serried host of +spears. Willie had been reading the "Paradise Lost," and the part which +pleased him, boy-like, the most, was the wars of the angels in the sixth +book. Hence it came that the aurora looked to him like the crowding +of innumerable spears--in the hands of angels, themselves +invisible--clashed together and shaken asunder, however, as in the +convolutions of a mazy dance of victory, rather than brandished and +hurtled as in the tumult of the battle. + +Another vision that would greatly delight him was a far more common one: +the moon wading through clouds blown slowly across the sky--especially +if by an upper wind, unfelt below. Now she would be sinking helpless in +a black faint--growing more and more dim, until at last she disappeared +from the night--was blotted from the face of nature, leaving only a dim +memorial light behind her; now her soul would come into her again, +and she was there once more--doubtful indeed: but with a slow, solemn +revival, her light would grow and grow, until the last fringe of the +great cloud swung away from off her face, and she dawned out stately +and glorious, to float for a space in queenly triumph across a lake of +clearest blue. And Willie was philosopher enough to say to himself, that +all this fainting and reviving, all this defeat and conquest, were but +appearances; that the moon was her own bright self all the time, basking +contented in the light of her sun, between whom and her the cloud could +not creep, only between her and Willie. + +But what delighted him most of all was to catch the moon dreaming. That +was when the old moon, tumbled over on her back, would come floating up +the east, like a little boat on the rising tide of the night, looking +lost on the infinite sea! Dreaming she must be surely!--she looked +nothing but dreaming; for she seemed to care about nothing--not even +that she was old and worn, and withered and dying,--not even that, +instead of sinking down in the west, into some deep bed of dim repose, +she was drifting, haggard and battered, untidy and weak and sleepy, up +and up into the dazzling halls of the sun. Did she know that his light +would clothe her as with a garment, and hide her in the highest recesses +of his light-filled ceiling? or was it only that she was dreaming, +dreaming--sweet, cool, tender dreams of her own, and neither knew nor +cared about anything around her? What a strange look all the night wore +while the tired old moon was thus dreaming of the time when she would +come again, back through the vanishing and the darkness--a single curved +thread of a baby moon, to grow and grow to a great full-grown lady moon, +able to cross with fearless gaze the gulf of the vaulted heavens--alone, +with neither sleep nor dreams to protect her! + +There were many other nights, far more commonplace, which yet Willie +liked well to look out upon, but which could not keep him long from his +bed. There was, for instance, the moonless and cloudy night, when, if he +had been able to pierce the darkness to the core, he would have found +nothing but blackness. It had a power of its own, but one cannot say it +had much to look at. On such a night he would say to himself that the +day was so sound asleep he was dreaming of nothing at all, and make +haste to his nest. Then again there was the cold night of black frost, +when there was cloud enough to hide the stars and the moon, and yet a +little light came soaking through, enough to reveal how hopeless and +dreary the earth was. For in such nights of cold, when there is no snow +to cover them, the flowers that have crept into their roots to hide from +the winter are not even able to dream of the spring;--they grow quite +stupid and benumbed, and sleep outright like a polar bear or a dormouse. +He never could look long at such a night. + +Neither did he care to look long when a loud wind was out--except the +moon was bright; for the most he could distinguish was the trees blowing +against the sky, and they always seemed not to like it, and to want to +stop. And if the big strong trees did not like it, how could the poor +little delicate flowers, shivering and shaking and tossed to and fro? +If he could have seen the wind itself, it would have been a different +thing; but as it was, he could enjoy it more by lying in bed and +listening to it. Then as he listened he could fancy himself floating out +through miles and miles of night and wind, and moon-and-star-light, or +moony snowflakes, or even thick darkness and rain; until, falling asleep +in the middle of his fancy, it would thicken around him into a dream of +delight. + +Once there was to be an eclipse of the moon about two o'clock in the +morning. + +"It's a pity it's so late, or rather so early," said Mr Macmichael. +"You, Willie, won't be able to see it." + +"Oh, yes, I shall, father," answered Willie. + +"I can't let you sit up so late. I shall be in the middle of Sedgy Moor +most likely when it begins--and who is to wake you? I won't have your +mother disturbed, and Tibby's not much to depend upon. She's too +hard-worked to wake when she likes, poor old thing." + +"Oh, I can be woke without anybody to do it!" said Willie. + +"You don't mean you can depend on your water-wheel to wake you at the +right time, do you?" + +"Yes, I do, father. If you will tell me exactly when the eclipse is +going to begin, I will set my wakener so that it shall wake me a +quarter-of-an-hour before, that I may be sure of seeing the very first +of it." + +"Well, it will be worth something to you, if it can do that!" said Mr +Macmichael. + +"It's been worth a great deal to me, already," said Willie. "It would +have shown me an eclipse before now, only there hasn't been one since I +set it going." + +And wake him it did. While his father was riding across the moor, in the +strange hush of the blotted moon, Willie was out in the garden beside +his motionless wheel, watching the fell shadow of the earth passing +over the blessed face of the moon, and leaving her pure and clear, and +nothing the worse. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +A NEW SCHEME. + +I have said that Willie's father and mother used to talk without +restraint in his presence. They had no fear of Willie's committing an +indiscretion by repeating what he heard. One day at dinner the following +conversation took place between them. + +"I've had a letter from my mother, John," said Mrs Macmichael to her +husband. "It's wonderful how well she manages to write, when she sees so +badly." + +"She might see well enough--at least a great deal better--if she would +submit to an operation, said the doctor. + +"At _her_ age, John!" returned his wife in an expostulatory tone. "Do +you really think it worth while--for the few years that are left her?" + +"Worth while to see well for a few years!" exclaimed the doctor. +"Indeed, I do." + +"But there's another thing I want to talk to you about now," said Mrs +Macmichael. "Since old Ann's death, six months ago, she says she has +been miserable, and if she goes on like this, it will shorten the few +days that are left her. Effie, the only endurable servant she has had +since Ann, is going to leave at the end of her half-year, and she says +the thought of another makes her wretched. She may be a little hard to +please, but after being used to one for so many years, it is no wonder +if she be particular. I don't know what is to be done." + +"I don't know, either--except you make her a present of Tibby," said her +husband. + +"John!" exclaimed Mrs Macmichael; and "John" burst out laughing. + +"You don't think they'd pull together?" he said. + +"Two old people--each with her own ways, and without any memories in +common to bind them together! I'm surprised at your dreaming of such a +thing," exclaimed his wife. + +"But I didn't even dream of it; I only said it," returned her husband. +"It's time you knew when I was joking, wifie." + +"You joke so dreadfully like earnest!" she answered. + +"If only we had one more room in the house!" said the doctor, +thoughtfully. + +"Ah!" returned his wife, eagerly, "that would be a blessing! And though +Tibby would be a thorn in every inch of grandmamma's body, if they were +alone together, I have no doubt they would get on very well with me +between them." + +"I don't doubt it," said her husband, still thoughtfully. + +"Couldn't we manage it somehow, John?" said Mrs Macmichael, half +timidly, after a pause of some duration. + +"I can't say I see how--at this moment," answered the doctor, "much as I +should like it. But there's time yet, and we'll think it over, and talk +about it, and perhaps we may hit upon some plan or other. Most things +_may_ be done; and everything necessary _can_ be done _some_how. So we +won't bother our minds about it, but only our brains, and see what they +can do for us." + +With this he rose and went to his laboratory. + +Willie rose also and went straight to his own room. Having looked all +round it thoughtfully several times, he went out again on the landing, +whence a ladder led up into a garret running the whole length of the +roof of the cottage. + +"My room would do for grannie," he said to himself; "and I could sleep +up there. A shake-down in the corner would do well enough for me." + +He climbed the ladder, pushed open the trap-door, crept half through, +and surveyed the gloomy place. + +"There's no window but a skylight!" he said; and his eyes smarted as if +the tears were about to rush into them. "What _shall_ I do? Wheelie will +be useless!--Well, I can't help it; and if I can't help it, I can bear +it. To have grannie comfortable will be better than to look out of the +window ever so much." + +He drew in his head, came down the ladder with a rush, and hurried off +to school. + +At supper he laid his scheme before his father and mother. + +They looked very much pleased with their boy. But his father said at +once-- + +"No, no, Willie. It won't do. I'm glad you've been the first to think of +something--only, unfortunately, your plan won't work. You can't sleep +there." + +"I'll engage to sleep wherever there's room to lie down; and if there +isn't I'll engage to sleep sitting or standing," said Willie, whose +mother had often said she wished she could sleep like Willie. "And as I +don't walk in my sleep," he added, "the trap-door needn't be shut." + +"Mice, Willie!" said his mother, in a tone of much significance. + +"The cat and I are good friends," returned Willie. "She'll be pleased +enough to sleep with me." + +"You don't hit the thing at all," said his father. "I wonder a practical +man like you, Willie, doesn't see it at once. Even if I were at the +expense of ceiling the whole roof with lath and plaster, we should +find you, some morning in summer, baked black as a coal; or else, some +morning in winter frozen so stiff that, when we tried to lift you, your +arm snapped off like a dry twig of elder." + +"Ho! ho! ho!" laughed Willie; "then there would be the more room for +grannie." + +His father laughed with him, but his mother looked a little shocked. + +"No, Willie," said his father again; "you must make another attempt. You +must say with Hamlet when he was puzzled for a plan--'About my brains!' +Perhaps they will suggest something wiser next time." + +Willie lay so long awake that night, thinking, that _Wheelie_ pulled him +before he had had a wink of sleep. He got up, of course, and looked from +the window. + +The day was dreaming grandly. The sky was pretty clear in front, and +full of sparkles of light, for the stars were kept in the background by +the moon, which was down a little towards the west. She had sunk below +the top of a huge towering cloud, the edges of whose jags and pinnacles +she bordered with a line of silvery light. Now this cloud rose into the +sky from just behind the ruins, and looking a good deal like upheaved +towers and spires, made Willie think within himself what a grand place +the priory must have been, when its roofs and turrets rose up into the +sky. + +"They say a lot of people lived in it then!" he thought with himself as +he stood gazing at the cloud. + +Suddenly he gave a great jump, and clapped his hands so loud that he +woke his father. + +"Is anything the matter, my boy?" he asked, opening Willie's door, and +peeping in. + +"No, papa, nothing," answered Willie. "Only something that came into my +head with a great bounce!" + +"Ah!--Where did it come from, Willie?" + +"Out of that cloud there. Isn't it a grand one?" + +"Grand enough certainly to put many thoughts into a body's head, Willie. +What did it put into yours?" + +"Please, I would rather not tell just yet," answered Willie, "--if you +don't mind, father." + +"Not a bit, my boy. Tell me just when you please, or don't tell me at +all. I should like to hear it, but only at your pleasure, Willie." + +"Thank you, father. I do want to tell you, you know, but not just yet." + +"Very well, my boy. Now go to bed, and sleep may better the thought +before the morning." + +Willie soon fell asleep now, for he believed he had found what he +wanted. + +He was up earlier than usual the next morning, and out in the garden. + +"Surely," he said to himself, "those ruins, which once held so many +monks, might manage even yet to find room for me!" + +He went wandering about amongst them, like an undecided young bird +looking for the very best possible spot to build its nest in. The spot +Willie sought was that which would require the least labour and least +material to make it into a room. + +Before he heard the voice of Tibby, calling him to come to his porridge, +he had fixed upon one; and in the following chapter I will tell you what +led him to choose it. All the time between morning and afternoon school, +he spent in the same place; and when he came home in the evening, he +was accompanied by Mr Spelman, who went with him straight to the ruins. +There they were a good while together; and when Willie at length came +in, his mother saw that his face was more than usually radiant, and was +certain he had some new scheme or other in his head. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +WILLIE'S NEST IN THE RUINS. + +The spot he had fixed upon was in the part of the ruins next the +cottage, not many yards from the back door of it. I have said there were +still a few vaulted places on the ground-level used by the family. The +vault over the wood-house was perfectly sound and weather-tight, and, +therefore, as Willie and the carpenter agreed, quite safe to roost upon. +In a corner outside, and now open to the elements, had once been a small +winding stone stair, which led to the room above, on the few broken +fragments of which, projecting from the two sides of the corner, it was +just possible to climb, and so reach the top of the vault. Willie had +often got up to look out through a small, flat-arched window into the +garden of the manse. When Mr Shepherd, the clergyman, who often walked +in his garden, caught sight of him, he always came nearer, and had a +chat with him; for he did not mind such people as Willie looking into +his garden, and seeing what he was about. Sometimes also little Mona, a +girl of his own age, would be running about; and she also, if she caught +sight of Willie, was sure to come hopping and skipping like a bird to +have a talk with him, and beg him to take her up, which, he as often +assured her, was all but impossible. To this place Mr Spelman and Willie +climbed, and there held consultation whether and how it could be made +habitable. The main difficulty was, how to cover it in; for although the +walls were quite sound a long way up, it lay open to the sky. But about +ten feet over their heads they saw the opposing holes in two of the +walls where the joists formerly sustaining the floor of the chamber +above had rested; and Mr Spelman thought that, without any very large +outlay either of time or material, he could there lay a floor, as it +were, and then turn it into a roof by covering it with cement, or pitch, +or something of the sort, concerning which he would take counsel with +his friend Mortimer, the mason. + +"But," said Willie, "that would turn it into the bottom of a cistern; +for the walls above would hold the rain in, and what would happen then? +Either it must gather till it reached the top, or the weight of it would +burst the walls, or perhaps break through my roof and drown me." + +"It is easy to avoid that," said Mr Spelman. "We have only to lay on the +cement a little thicker at one side, and slope the surface down to the +other, where a hole through the wall, with a pipe in it, would let the +water off." + +"I know!" cried Willie. "That's what they called a gurgoyle!" + +"I don't know anything about that," said the carpenter; "I know it will +carry off the water." + +"To be sure," said Willie. "It's capital." + +"But," said Mr Spelman, "it's rather too serious a job this to set about +before asking the doctor's leave. It will cost money." + +"Much?" asked Willie, whose heart sank within him. + +"Well, that depends on what you count much," answered Spelman. "All I +can say is, it wouldn't be anything out of your father's pocket." + +"I don't see how that can be," said Willie. "--Cost money, and yet +be nothing out of my father's pocket! _I've_ only got threepence +ha'-penny." + +"Your father and I will talk about it," said the carpenter mysteriously, +and offered no further information. + +"There seems to be always some way of doing a thing," thought Willie to +himself. + +He little knew by what a roundabout succession of cause and effect his +father's kindness to Spelman was at this moment returning to him, one of +the links of connection being this project of Willie's own. + +The doctor being out at the time, the carpenter called again later in +the evening; and they had a long talk together--to the following effect. + +Spelman having set forth his scheme, and the doctor having listened in +silence until he had finished-- + +"But," said Mr Macmichael, "that will cost a good deal, I fear, and I +have no money to spare." + +"Mr Macmichael," said Spelman solemnly, his long face looking as if some +awful doom were about to issue from the middle of it, "you forget how +much I am in your debt." + +"No, I don't," returned the doctor. "But neither do I forget that it +takes all your time and labour to provide for your family; and what will +become of them if you set about this job, with no return in prospect but +the satisfaction of clearing off of an old debt?" + +"It is very good of you, sir, to think of that," said the carpenter; +"but, begging your pardon, I've thought of it too. Many's the time +you've come after what I'd ha' called work hours to see my wife--yes, in +the middle of the night, more than once or twice; and why shouldn't I do +the same? Look ye here, sir. If you're not in a main hurry, an' 'll give +me time, I'll do the heavy work o' this job after six o'clock o' the +summer nights, with Sandy to help me, and I'll charge you no more than +a journeyman's wages by the hour. And what Willie and Sandy can do by +themselves--he's a clever boy Sandy; but he's a genius Willie--what they +can do by themselves, and that's not a little, is nothing to me. And if +you'll have the goodness, when I give you the honest time, at fourpence +ha'penny an hour, just to strike that much off my bill, I'll be more +obliged to you than I am now. Only I fear I must make you pay for the +material--not a farthing more than it costs me at the saw-mills, up at +the Grange, for the carriage 'll come in with other lots I _must_ have." + +"It's a generous offer, Spelman," said the doctor, "and I accept it +heartily, though you are turning the tables of obligation upon me. +You'll have done far more for me than I ever did for you." + +"I wish that were like to be true, sir, but it isn't. My wife's not a +giantess yet, for all you've done for her." + +Spelman set to work at once. New joists were inserted in the old walls, +boarded over, and covered, after the advice of Mortimer, with some +cunning mixture to keep out the water. Then a pipe was put through the +wall to carry it off--which pipe, if it was not masked with an awful +head, as the remains of more than one on the Priory showed it would have +been in the days of the monks, yet did it work as faithfully without it. + +When it came to the plastering of the walls, Mr Spelman, after giving +them full directions, left the two boys to do that between them. +Although there was no occasion to roughen these walls by clearing away +the old mortar from between the stones, the weather having done that +quite sufficiently, and all the preparation they wanted for the first +thin coat was to be well washed down, it took them a good many days, +working all their time, to lay on the orthodox three coats of plaster. +Mr Spelman had wisely boarded the ceiling, so that they had not to +plaster that. + +Meantime he was preparing a door and window-frames in the shop. The room +had probably been one of the prior's, for it was much too large and +lofty for a mere cell, and had two windows. But these were fortunately +small, not like the splendid ones in the chapel and refectory, else they +would have been hard to fill with glass. + +"I'm afraid you'll be starved with cold, Willie," said his father one +day, after watching the boys at work for a few minutes. "There's no +fireplace." + +"Oh! that doesn't signify," answered Willie. "Look how thick the walls +are! and I shall have plenty of blankets on my bed. Besides, we can +easily put a little stove in, if it's wanted." + +But when the windows were fitted and fixed, Mr Macmichael saw to his +dismay that they were not made to open. They had not even a pane on +hinges. + +"This'll never do, Willie," he said. "This is far worse than no +chimney." + +Willie took his father by the coat, and led him to a corner, where a +hole went right through the wall into another room--if that can be +called a room which had neither floor nor ceiling. + +"There, father!" he said; "I am going to fit a slide over this hole, and +then I can let in just as much or as little air as I please." + +"It would have been better to have one at least of the windows made to +open. You will only get the air from the ruins that way, whereas you +might have had all the scents of Mr Shepherd's wallflowers and roses." + +"As soon as Mr Spelman has done with the job," said Willie, "I will make +them both to come wide open on hinges; but I don't want to bother him +about it, for he has been very kind, and I can do it quite well myself." + +This satisfied his father. + +At length the floor was boarded; a strong thick door was fitted tight; a +winding stair of deal inserted where the stone one had been, and cased +in with planks, well pitched on the outside; and now Willie's mother was +busy making little muslin curtains for his windows, and a carpet for the +middle of the room. + +In the meantime, his father and mother had both written to his +grandmother, telling her how Willie had been using his powers both of +invention and of labour to make room for her, and urging her to come and +live with them, for they were all anxious to have her to take care of. +But, in fact, small persuasion was necessary, for the old lady was only +too glad to accept the invitation; and before the warm weather of autumn +was over, she was ready to go to them. By this time Willie's room was +furnished. All the things from his former nest had been moved into it; +the bed with the chintz curtains, covered with strange flowers and +birds; the old bureau, with the many drawers inside the folding cover, +in which he kept all his little treasures; the table at which he read +books that were too big to hold, such as Raleigh's History of the World +and Josephus; the old oblong mirror that hung on the wall, with an +outspread gilt eagle at the top of it; the big old arm-chair that had +belonged to his great-grandfather, who wrote his sermons in it--for all +the things the boy had about him were old, and in all his after-life +he never could bear new furniture. And now his grandmother's furniture +began to appear; and a great cart-load of it from her best bedroom was +speedily arranged in Willie's late quarters, and as soon as they were +ready for her, Mrs Macmichael set out in a post-chaise to fetch her +mother. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +WILLIE'S GRANDMOTHER. + +Willie was in a state of excitement until she arrived, looking for +her as eagerly as if she had been a young princess. So few were the +opportunities of travelling between Priory Leas and the town where his +grandmother lived, that he had never seen her, and curiosity had its +influence as well as affection. Great, therefore, was his delight when +at last the chaise came round the corner of the street, and began to +draw up in order to halt at their door. The first thing he caught sight +of was a curious bonnet, like a black coal-scuttle upside down, inside +which, when it turned its front towards him, he saw a close-fitting +widow's cap, and inside that a kind old face, and if he could have +looked still further, he would have seen a kind young soul inside the +kind old face. She smiled sweetly when she saw him, but was too tired to +take any further notice of him until she had had tea. + +During that meal Willie devoted himself to a silent waiting upon her, +watching and trying to anticipate her every want. When she had eaten a +little bread and butter and an egg, and drunk two cups of tea, she lay +back in her own easy chair, which had been placed for her by the side +of the parlour fire, and fell fast asleep for ten minutes, breathing so +gently that Willie got frightened, and thought she was dead. But all at +once she opened her eyes wide, and made a sign to him to come to her. + +"Sit down there," she said, pushing a little footstool towards him. + +Willie obeyed, and sat looking up in her face. + +"So," she said, "you're the little man that can do everything?" + +"No, grannie," answered Willie, laughing. "I wish I could; but I am only +learning to do a few things; and there's not one of them I can do right +yet." + +"Do you know what they call you?" + +"The boys at school call me Six-fingered Jack," said Willie. + +"There!" said his grandmother. "I told you so." + +"I'm glad it's only a nickname, grannie; but if it weren't, it would +soon be one, for I'm certain the finger that came after the little one +would be so much in the way it would soon get cut off." + +"Anyhow, supposing you only half as clever a fellow as you pass for, I +want to try you. Have you any objection to service? I should like to +hire you for my servant--my own special servant, you understand." + +"All right, grannie; here I am!" cried Willie, jumping up. "What shall I +do first?" + +"Sit down again instantly, and wait till we've finished the bargain. I +must first have you understand that though I don't want to be hard upon +you, you must come when I call you, and do what I tell you." + +"Of course, grannie. Only I can't when I'm at school, you know." + +"I don't want to be told that. And I'm not going to be a tyrant. But +I had no idea you were such a silly! For all your cleverness, you've +positively never asked me what wages I would give you." + +"Oh! I don't want any wages, grannie. I _like_ to do things for people; +and you're my very own grandmother, besides, you know." + +"Well, I suppose I must settle your wages for you. I mean to pay you +by the job. It's an odd arrangement for a servant, but it will suit +me best. And as you don't ask any, I needn't pay you more than I like +myself." + +"Certainly not, grannie. I'm quite satisfied." + +"Meantime, no engagement of a servant ought to be counted complete +without earnest." + +"I'm quite in earnest, grannie," said Willie, who did not know the +meaning of the word as his new mistress used it. They all laughed. + +"I don't see what's funny," said Willie, laughing too, however. + +But when they explained to him what _earnest_ meant, then he laughed +with understanding, as well as with good will. + +"So," his grandmother went on, "I will give you earnest, which, you +know, binds you my servant. But for how long, Willie?" + +"Till you're tired of me, grannie. Only, you know, I'm papa and mamma's +servant first, and you may have to arrange with them sometimes; for what +should I do if you were all to want me at once?" + +"We'll easily manage that. I'll arrange with them, as you say. And now, +here's your earnest." + +As she spoke, she put into his hand what Willie took to be a shilling. +But when he glanced at it, he found himself mistaken. + +"Thank you, grannie," he said, trying not to show himself a little +disappointed, for he had had another scheme in his head some days, and +the shilling would have been everything towards that. + +"Do you know what grannie has given you, Willie?" said his mother. + +"Yes, mother--such a pretty brass medal!" + +"Show it me, dear. Why, Willie! it's no brass medal, child;--it's a +sovereign!" + +"No-o-o-o! Is it? O grannie!" he cried, and went dancing about the room, +as if he would actually fly with delight. + +Willie had never seen a sovereign, for that part of the country was then +like Holland--you never saw gold money there. To get it for him, his +grandmother had had to send to the bank in the county town. + +After this she would often give him sixpence or a shilling, and +sometimes even a half-crown when she asked him to do anything she +thought a little harder than usual; so that Willie had now plenty of +money with which to carry out his little plans. When remonstrated with +by her daughter for giving him so much, his grandmother would say-- + +"Look how the boy spends it!--always _doing_ something with it! He never +wastes it on sweets--not he!--My Willie's above that!" + +The old lady generally spoke of him as if she were the chief if not the +sole proprietor of the boy. + +"I'm sure I couldn't do better with it," she would add; "and that you'll +see when he comes to be a man. He'll be the making of you all." + +"But, mother, you can't afford it." + +"How do you know that? I can afford it very well. I've no house-rent to +pay; and I am certain it is the very best return I can make you for your +kindness. What I do for Willie will prove to have been done for us all." + +Certainly Willie's grandmother showed herself a very wise old lady. The +wisest old ladies are always those with young souls looking out of their +eyes. And few things pleased Willie more than waiting upon her. He had +a passion for being useful, and as his grandmother needed his help more +than any one else, her presence in the house was an endless source of +pleasure to him. + +But his father grew anxious. He did not like her giving Willie so much +money--not that he minded Willie having or spending the money, for he +believed that the spending would keep the having from hurting him; but +he feared lest through her gifts the purity of the boy's love for his +grandmother might be injured, and the service which at first had looked +only to her as its end might degenerate into a mere serving of her for +the sake of her shillings. + +He had, therefore, a long talk with her about it. She was indignant at +the notion of the least danger of spoiling Willie, but so anxious +to prove there was none that she agreed to the test proposed by his +father--which was, to drop all money transactions between them for a few +months, giving Willie no reason for the change. Grannie, however, being +in word and manner, if possible, still kinder to him than ever--and no +wonder, seeing she could no more, for the present, let her love out at +her pocket-hole--and Willie having, therefore, no anxiety lest he should +have displeased her, he soon ceased to think even of the change; except, +indeed, sometimes when he wanted a little money very much, and then +he would say to himself that he was afraid poor grannie had been too +liberal at first, and had spent all her money upon him; therefore +he must try to be the more attentive to her now. So the result +was satisfactory; and the more so that, for all her boasting, his +grandmother had not been able to help trembling a little, half with +annoyance, half with anxiety, as she let the first few of his services +pass without the customary acknowledgment. + +"There!" she said one day, at length, triumphantly, to Mr Macmichael; +"what do you think of my Willie now? Three months over and gone, and +where are your fears? I hope you will trust my judgment a little better +after this." + +"I'm very glad, anyhow, you put him to the trial," said his father. "It +will do him good." + +"He wants less of that than most people, Mr Macmichael--present company +_not_ excepted," said the old lady, rather nettled, but pretending to be +more so than she really was. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +HYDRAULICS. + +The first thing Willie did, after getting his room all to himself, was +to put hinges on the windows and make them open, so satisfying his +father as to the airiness of the room. Finding himself then, as it were, +in a house of his own, he began to ask his friends in the village to +come and see him in his new quarters. The first who did so was Mrs +Wilson, and Mr Spelman followed. Hector Macallaster was unwell, and it +was a month before he was able to go; but the first day he could he +crawled up the hill to the Ruins, and then up the little winding stair +to Willie's nest. The boy was delighted to see him, made him sit in his +great arm-chair, and, as the poor man was very tired with the exertion, +would have run to the house to get him something; but Hector begged +for a little water, and declared he could take nothing else. Therefore +Willie got a tumbler from his dressing-table, and went to the other side +of the room. Hector, hearing a splashing and rushing, turned round to +look, and saw him with one hand in a small wooden trough that ran along +the wall, and with the other holding the tumbler in a stream of water +that fell from the side of the trough into his bath. When the tumbler +was full, he removed his hand from the trough, and the water ceased to +overflow. He carried the tumbler to Hector, who drank, and said the +water was delicious. + +Hector could not imagine how the running water had got there, and Willie +had to tell him what I am now going to tell my reader. His grandmother's +sovereign and his own hydraulics had brought it there. + +He had been thinking for some time what a pleasure it would be to have a +stream running through his room, and how much labour it would save poor +old Tibbie; for it was no light matter for her old limbs to carry all +the water for his bath up that steep narrow winding stair to his room. +He reasoned that as the well rose and overflowed when its outlet was +stopped, it might rise yet farther if it were still confined; for its +source was probably in the heart of one of the surrounding hills, and +water when confined will always rise as high as its source. Therefore, +after much meditation as to how it could be accomplished in the simplest +and least expensive manner, he set about it as follows. + +First of all he cleared away the floor about the well, and built up the +circular wall of it a foot or two higher, with stones picked from those +lying about, and with mortar which he made himself. By means of a +spirit-level, he laid the top layer of stones quite horizontal; and he +introduced into it several blocks of wood instead of stones. + +Next he made a small wooden frame, which, by driving spikes between the +stones, he fastened to the opening of the underground passage, so that a +well-fitting piece of board could move up and down in it, by means of a +projecting handle, and be a more manageable sluice than he had hitherto +had. + +Then he made a strong wooden lid to the mouth of the well, and screwed +it down to the wooden blocks he had built in. Through a hole in it, just +large enough, came the handle of the sluice. + +Next, in the middle of the cover, he made a hole with a brace and +centre-bit, and into it drove the end of a strong iron pipe, fitting +tight, and long enough to reach almost to the top of the vault. As soon +as this was fixed he shut down the sluice, and in a few seconds the +water was falling in sheets upon him, and flooding the floor, dashed +back from the vault, against which it rushed from the top of the pipe. +This was enough for the present; he raised the sluice and let the water +escape again below. It was plain, from the force with which the water +struck the vault, that it would yet rise much higher. + +He scrambled now on the top of the vault, and, examining the ruins, soon +saw how a pipe brought up through the breach in the vault could be led +to the hole in the wall of his room which he had shown his father as a +ventilator. But he would not have a close pipe running through his room. +There would be little good in that. He could have made a hole in it, +with a stopper, to let the water out when he wanted to use it, but that +would be awkward, while all the pleasure lay in seeing the water as it +ran. Therefore he got Mr Spelman to find him a long small pine tree, +which he first sawed in two, lengthways, and hollowed into two troughs; +then, by laying the small end of one into the wide end of the other, he +had a spout long enough to reach across the room, and go through the +wall on both sides. + +The chief difficulty was to pierce the other wall, for the mortar was +very hard. The stones, however, just there were not very large, and, +with Sandy's help, he managed it. + +The large end of one trough was put through the ventilator-hole, and the +small end of the other through the hole opposite; their second ends met +in the middle, the one lying into the other, and were supported at the +juncture by a prop. + +They filled up the two openings round the ends with lime and small +stones, making them as tidy as they could, and fitting small slides by +which Willie could close up the passages for the water when he pleased. +Nothing remained but to solder a lead pipe into the top of the iron one, +guide this flexible tube across the ups and downs of the ruins, and lay +the end of it into the trough. + +At length Willie took his stand at the sluice, and told Sandy to +scramble up to the end of the lead pipe, and shout when the water began +to pour into the trough. His object was to find how far the sluice +required to be shut down in order to send up just as much water as the +pipe could deliver. More than that would cause a pressure which might +strain, and perhaps burst, their apparatus. + +He pushed the sluice down a little, and waited a moment. + +"Is it coming yet, Sandy?" he cried. + +"Not a drop," shouted Sandy. + +Willie pushed it a little further, and then knew by the change in the +gurgle below that the water was rising in the well; and it soon began to +spout from the hole in the cover through which the sluice-handle came +up. + +"It's coming," cried Sandy, after a pause; "not much, though." + +Down went the sluice a little further still. + +"It's pouring," echoed the voice of Sandy amongst the ruins; "as much as +ever the pipe can give. Its mouth is quite full." + +Willie raised the sluice a little. + +"How is it now?" he bawled. + +"Less," cried Sandy. + +So Willie pushed it back to where it had been last, and made a notch in +the handle to know the right place again. + +So the water from the Prior's Well went careering through Willie's +bed-chamber, a story high. When he wanted to fill his bath, he had only +to stop the run with his hand, and it poured over the sides into it; +so that Tibbie was to be henceforth relieved of a great labour, while +Willie's eyes were to be delighted with the vision, and his ears with +the sounds of the water scampering through his room. + +An hour or so after, as he was finishing off something about the mouth +of the well, he heard his father calling him. + +"Willie, Willie," he shouted, "is this any more of your kelpie work?" + +"What is it, father?" cried Willie, as he came bounding to him. + +He needed no reply when he saw a great pool of water about the back +door, fed by a small stream from the direction of the woodhouse. Tibbie +had come out, and was looking on in dismay. + +"That's Willie again, sir," she was saying. "You never can tell where +he'll be spouting that weary water at you." + + +[Illustration: TIBBIE, LOOKING ON IN DISMAY, SAID, "THAT'S WILLIE +AGAIN."] + + +The whole place'll be bog before long, and we'll be all turned into +frogs, and have nothing to do but croak. That well 'll be the ruin of us +all with cold and coughs." + +"You'll be glad enough of it to-night, Tibbie," said Willie, laughing +prophetically. + +"A likely story!" she returned, quite cross. "It'll be into the house if +you don't stop it." + +"I'll soon do that," said Willie. + +Neither he nor Sandy had thought what would become of the water after it +had traversed the chamber. There it was pouring down from the end of the +wooden spout, just clearing the tarred roof of the spiral stair, and +plashing on the ground close to the foot of it; in their eagerness they +had never thought of where it would run to next. And now Willie was +puzzled. Nothing was easier than to stop it for the present, which of +course he ran at once to do; but where was he to send it? + +Thinking over it, however, he remembered that just on the other side of +the wall was the stable where his father's horses lived, close to the +parson's garden; and in the corner, at the foot of the wall, was a +drain; so that all he had to do was to fit another spout to this, at +right angles to it, and carry it over the wall. + +"You needn't take any water up for me tonight, Tibby," he said, as he +went in to supper, for he had already filled his bath. + +"Nonsense, Willie," returned Tibbie, still out of temper because of the +mess at the door. "Your papa says you must have your bath, and my poor +old bones must ache for 't." + +"The bath's filled already. If you put in one other pailful, it'll run +over when I get into it." + +"Now, don't you play tricks with _me_, Willie. I won't have any more of +your joking," returned Tibbie. + +Nettled at the way she took the information with which he had hoped to +please her, he left her to carry up her pail of water; but it was the +last, and she thanked him very kindly the next day. + +The only remaining question was how to get rid of the bath-water. But +he soon contrived a sink on the top step of the stair outside the door, +which was a little higher than the wall of the stable-yard. From there a +short pipe was sufficient to carry that water also over into the drain. + +I may mention, that although a severe winter followed, the Prior's Well +never froze; and that, as they were always either empty, or full of +_running_ water, the pipes never froze, and consequently never burst. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +HECTOR HINTS AT A DISCOVERY. + +The next day after Hector's visit, Willie went to see how he was, and +found him better. + +"I certainly am better," he said, "and what's more, I've got a strange +feeling it was that drink of water you gave me yesterday that has done +it. I'm coming up to have some more of it in the evening, if you'll give +it me." + +"As much of it as _you_ can drink, Hector, anyhow," said Willie. "You +won't drink _my_ cow dry." + +"I wonder if it could be the water," said Hector, musingly. + +"My father says people used to think it cured them. That was some +hundreds of years ago; but if it did so then, I don't see why it +shouldn't now. My mother is certainly better, but whether that began +since we found the well, I can't be very sure. For Tibbie--she is always +drinking at it, she says it does her a world of good." + +"I've read somewhere," said the shoemaker, "that wherever there's a hurt +there's a help; and when I was a boy, and stung myself with a nettle, I +never had far to look for a dock-stalk with its juice. Who knows but +the Prior's Well may be the cure for me? It can't straighten my back, +I know, but it may make me stronger for all that, and fitter for the +general business." + +"I will lay down a pipe for you, if you like, Hector, and then you can +drink as much of the water as you please, without asking anybody," said +Willie. + +Hector laughed. + +"It's not such a sure thing," he replied, "as to be worth that trouble; +and besides, the walk does me good, and a drink once or twice a day is +enough--that is, if your people won't think me a trouble, coming so +often." + +"There's no fear of that," said Willie; "it's our business, you know, to +try to cure people. I'll tell you what--couldn't you bring up a bit of +your work, and sit in my room sometimes? It's better air there than down +here." + +"You're very kind, indeed, Willie. We'll see. Meantime, I'll come up +morning and evening, and have a drink of the water, as long at least +as the warm weather lasts, and by that time I shall be pretty certain +whether it is doing me good or not." + +So Hector went on drinking the water and getting a little better. + +Next, grannie took to it, and, either from imagination, or that it +really did her good, declared it was renewing her youth. All the doctor +said on the matter was, that the salts it contained could do no one any +harm, and might do some people much good; that there was iron in it, +which was strengthening, and certain ingredients besides, which might +possibly prevent the iron from interfering with other functions of the +system. He said he should not be at all surprised if, some day or other, +it regained its old fame as a well of healing. + +Mr Spelman, in consequence of a talk he had with Hector, having induced +his wife to try it, she also soon began to think it was doing her good. +Beyond these I have now mentioned, no one paid any attention to the +Prior's Well or its renascent reputation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +HOW WILLIE WENT ON. + +As soon as Willie began a new study, he began trying to get at the sense +of it. This caused his progress to be slow at first, and him to appear +dull amongst those who merely learned by rote; but as he got a hold of +the meaning of it all, his progress grew faster and faster, until at +length in most studies he outstripped all the rest. + +I need hardly repeat that the constant exercise of his mind through his +fingers, in giving a second existence outside of him to what had its +first existence inside him--that is, in his mind, made it far easier for +him to understand the relations of things that go to make up a science. +A boy who could put a box together must find Euclid easier--the Second +Book particularly--than one who had no idea of the practical relations +of the boundaries of spaces; one who could contrive a machine like his +water-wheel, must be able to understand the interdependence of the parts +of a sentence better than one equally gifted otherwise, but who did not +know how one wheel could move another. Everything he did would help his +arithmetic, and geography, and history; and these and those and all +things besides, would help him to understand poetry. + +In his Latin sentences he found the parts fit into each other like +dove-tailing; finding the terms of equations, he said, was like +inventing machines, and he soon grew clever at solving them. It was not +from his manual abilities alone that his father had given him the name +of Gutta-Percha Willie, but from the fact that his mind, once warmed to +interest, could accommodate itself to the peculiarities of any science, +just as the gutta-percha which is used for taking a mould fits itself to +the outs and ins of any figure. + +He still employed his water-wheel to pull him out of bed in the middle +of the night. He had, of course, to make considerable alterations in, or +rather additions to, its machinery, after changing his bed-room, for it +had then to work in a direction at right angles to the former; but this +he managed perfectly. + +It is well for Willie's reputation with a certain, and that not a small +class of readers, that there was something even they would call useful +in several of his inventions and many of his efforts; in his hydraulics, +for instance, by means of which he saved old Tibby's limbs; in his +house-building, too, by means of which they were able to take in +grannie; and, for a long time now, he had been doing every little repair +wanted in the house. If a lock went wrong, he would have it off at once +and taken to pieces. If less would not do, he carried it to the smithy, +but very seldom troubled Mr Willett about it, for he had learned to do +small jobs, and to heat and work and temper a piece of iron within his +strength as well as any man. His mother did not much like this part +of his general apprenticeship, for he would get his hands so black +sometimes on a Saturday afternoon that he could not get them clean +enough for church the next day; and sometimes he would come home with +little holes burnt here and there in his clothes by the sparks from the +red-hot iron when beaten on the anvil. Concerning this last evil, +she spoke at length to Hector, who made him a leather apron, like Mr +Willett's, which thereafter he always wore when he had a job to do in +the smithy. + +It is well, I say, that the utility of such of his doings as these will +be admitted by all; for some other objects upon which he spent much +labour would, by most people, be regarded as utterly useless. Few, for +instance, would allow there was any value in a water-wheel which could +grind no corn, and was of service only to wake him in the middle of the +night--not for work, not for the learning of a single lesson, but only +that he might stare out of the window for a while, and then get into bed +again. For my part, nevertheless, I think it a most useful contrivance. +For all lovely sights tend to keep the soul pure, to lift the heart +up to God, and above, not merely what people call low cares, but what +people would call reasonable cares, although our great Teacher teaches +us that such cares are unjust towards our Father in Heaven. More than +that, by helping to keep the mind calm and pure, they help to keep the +imagination, which is the source of all invention, active, and the +judgment, which weighs all its suggestions, just. Whatever is beautiful +is of God, and it is only ignorance or a low condition of heart and soul +that does not prize what is beautiful. If I had a choice between two +mills, one that would set fine dinners on my table, and one that would +show me lovely sights in earth and sky and sea, I know which I should +count the more useful. + +Perhaps there is not so much to be said for the next whim of Willie's; +but a part at least of what I have just written will apply to it also. + +What put it in his head I am not sure, but I think it was two things +together--seeing a soaring lark radiant with the light of the unrisen +sun, and finding in a corner of Spelman's shop a large gilt ball which +had belonged to an old eight-day clock he had bought. The passage in +which he set it up was so low that he had to remove the ornaments from +the top of it, but this one was humbled that it might be exalted. + +The very sight of it set Willie thinking what he could do with it; for +he not only meditated how to do a thing, but sometimes what to make a +thing do. Nor was it long ere he made up his mind, and set about a huge +kite, more than six feet high--a great strong monster, with a tail of +portentous length--to the top of the arch of which he attached the +golden ball. Then he bought a quantity of string, and set his wheel to +call him up an hour before sunrise. + +One morning was too still, another too cloudy, and a third wet; but at +last came one clear and cool, with a steady breeze which sent the leaves +of the black poplars all one way. He dressed with speed, and, taking his +kite and string, set out for a grass field belonging to Farmer Thomson, +where he found most of the daisies still buttoned up in sleep, their red +tips all together, as tight and close as the lips of a baby that won't +take what is offered it--as if they never meant to have anything more to +do with the sun, and would never again show him the little golden sun +they had themselves inside of them. In a few minutes the kite had begun +to soar, slowly and steadily, then faster and faster, until at length it +was towering aloft, tugging and pulling at the string, which he could +not let out fast enough. He kept looking up after it intently as it +rose, when suddenly a new morning star burst out in golden glitter. It +was the gilt ball; it saw the sun. The glory which, striking on the +heart of the lark, was there transmuted into song, came back from the +ball, after its kind, in glow and gleam. He danced with delight, and +shouted and sang his welcome to the resurrection of the sun, as he +watched his golden ball alone in the depth of the air. + +He never thought of any one hearing him, nor was it likely that any one +in the village would be up yet. He was therefore a good deal surprised +when he heard the sweet voice of Mona Shepherd behind him; and turning, +saw her running to him bare-headed, with her hair flying in the wind. + +"Willie! Willie!" she was crying, half-breathless with haste and the +buffeting of the breeze. + +"Well, Mona, who would have thought of seeing you out so early?" + +"Mayn't a girl get up early, as well as a boy? It's not like climbing +walls and trees, you know, though I can't see the harm of that either." + +"No more can I," said Willie, "if they're not too difficult, you know. +But what brought you out now? Do you want me?" + +"Mayn't I stop with you? I saw you looking up, and I looked up too, and +then I saw something flash; and I dressed as hard as I could, and ran +out. Are you catching the lightning?" + +"No," said Willie; "something better than the lightning--the sunlight." + +"Is that all?" said Mona, disappointed. + +"Why, Mona, isn't the sunlight a better thing than the lightning?" said +philosophical Willie. + +"Yes, I dare say; but you can have it any time." + +"That only makes it the more valuable. But it's not quite true when you +think of it. You can't have it now, except from my ball." + +"Oh, yes, I can," cried Mona; "for there he comes himself." + +And there, to be sure, was the first blinding arc of the sun rising over +the eastern hill. Both of them forgot the kite, and turned to watch the +great marvel of the heavens, throbbing and pulsing like a sea of flame. +When they turned again to the kite they could see the golden ball no +longer. Its work was over; it had told them the sun was coming, and now, +when the sun was come, it was not wanted any more. Willie began to draw +in his string and roll it up on its stick, slowly pulling down to the +earth the soaring sun-scout he had sent aloft for the news. He had never +flown anything like such a large kite before, and he found it difficult +to reclaim. + +"Will you take me out with you next time, Willie?" asked Mona, +pleadingly. "I do so like to be out in the morning, when the wind is +blowing, and the clouds are flying about. I wonder why everybody doesn't +get up to see the sun rise. Don't you think it is well worth seeing?" + +"That I do." + +"Then you will let me come with you? I like it so much better when you +are with me. Janet spoils it all." + +Janet was her old nurse, who seemed to think the main part of her duty +was to check Mona's enthusiasm. + +"I will," said Willie, "if your papa has no objection." + +Mona did not even remember her mamma. She had died when she was such a +little thing. + +"Come and ask him, then," said Mona. + +So soon as he had secured Sun-scout, as he called his kite with the +golden head, she took his hand to lead him to her father. + +"He won't be up yet," said Willie. + +"Oh, yes, long ago," cried Mona. "He's always up first in the house, and +as soon as he's dressed he calls me. He'll be at breakfast by this time, +and wondering what can have become of me." + +So Willie went with her, and there was Mr Shepherd, as she had said, +already seated at breakfast. + +"What have you been about, Mona, my child?" he asked, as soon as he had +shaken hands with Willie. + +"We've been helping the sun to rise," said Mona, merrily. + +"No, no," said Willie; "we've only been having a peep at him in bed, +before he got up." + +"Oh, yes," chimed in Mona. "And he was so fast asleep!--and snoring," +she added, with a comical expression and tone, as if it were a thing not +to be mentioned save as a secret. + +But Willie did not like the word, and her father was of the same mind. + +"No, no," said Mr Shepherd; "that's not respectful, Mona. I don't like +you to talk that way, even in fun, of the great light of the earth. +There are more good reasons for objecting to it than you would quite +understand yet. Willie would not talk like that, I am sure. Tell me what +you have been about, my boy." + +Willie explained the whole matter, and asked if he might call Mona the +next time he went out with his kite in the morning. + +Mr Shepherd consented at once; and Mona said he had only to call from +his window into their garden, and she would be sure to hear him even if +she was asleep. + +The next thing Willie did was to construct a small windlass in the +garden, with which to wind up or let out the string of the kite; and +when the next fit morning arrived, Mona and he went out together. The +wind blowing right through the garden, they did not go to the open +field, but sent up the kite from the windlass, and Mona was able by +means of the winch to let out the string, while Willie kept watching for +the moment when the golden ball should catch the light. They did the +same for several mornings after, and Willie managed, with the master's +help, to calculate exactly the height to which the ball had flown when +first it gained a peep of the sun in bed. + +One windy evening they sent the kite up in the hope that it would fly +till the morning; but the wind fell in the night, and when the sun came +near there was no golden ball in the air to greet him. So, instead of +rejoicing in its glitter far aloft, they had to set out, guided by the +string, to find the fallen Lucifer. The kite was of small consequence, +but the golden ball Willie could not replace. Alas! that very evening he +had added a great length of string--so much, that when the wind ceased +the kite could just reach the river, into which it fell; and when the +searchers at length drew Sun-scout from the water they found his glory +had departed; the golden ball had been beaten and ground upon the stones +of the stream, and never more did they send him climbing up the heavens +to welcome the lord of day. + +Indeed, it was many years before Willie flew a kite again, for, after a +certain conversation with his grandmother, he began to give a good +deal more time to his lessons than hitherto; and while his recreations +continued to be all of a practical sort, his reading was mostly such as +prepared him for college. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +WILLIE'S TALK WITH HIS GRANDMOTHER. + +One evening in winter, when he had been putting coals on his grannie's +fire, she told him to take a chair beside her, as she wanted a little +talk with him. He obeyed her gladly. + +"Well, Willie," she said, "what would you like to be?" + +Willie had just been helping to shoe a horse at the smithy, and, in +fact, had driven one of the nails--an operation perilous to the horse. +Full of the thing which had last occupied him, he answered without a +moment's hesitation-- + +"I should like to be a blacksmith, grannie." + +The old lady smiled. She had seen more black on Willie's hands than +could have come from the coals, and judged from that and his answer that +he had just come from the smithy. + +An unwise grandmother, had she wished to turn him from the notion, would +have started an objection at once--probably calling it a dirty trade, or +a dangerous trade, or a trade that the son of a professional man could +not be allowed to follow; but Willie's grandmother knew better, and went +on talking about the thing in the quietest manner. + +"It's a fine trade," she said; "thorough manly work, and healthy, +I believe, notwithstanding the heat. But why would you take to it, +Willie?" + +Willie fell back on his principles, and thought for a minute. + +"Of course, if I'm to be any good at all I must have a hand in what +Hector calls the general business of the universe, grannie." + +"To be sure; and that, as a smith, you would have; but why should you +choose to be a smith rather than anything else in the world?" + +"Because--because--people can't get on without horse-shoes, and ploughs +and harrows, and tires for cart-wheels, and locks, and all that. It +would help people very much if I were a smith." + +"I don't doubt it. But if you were a mason you could do quite as much to +make them comfortable; you could build them houses." + +"Yes, I could. It would be delightful to build houses for people. I +should like that." + +"It's very hard work," said his grandmother. "Only you wouldn't mind +that, I know, Willie." + +"No man minds hard work," said Willie. "I think I should like to be a +mason; for then, you see, I should be able to look at what I had done. +The ploughs and carts would go away out of sight, but the good houses +would stand where I had built them, and I should be able to see how +comfortable the people were in them. I should come nearer to the people +themselves that way with my work. Yes, grannie, I would rather be a +mason than a smith." + +"A carpenter fits up the houses inside," said his grandmother. "Don't +you think, with his work, he comes nearer the people that live in it +than the mason does?" + +"To be sure," cried Willie, laughing. "People hardly see the mason's +work, except as they're coming up to the door. I know more about +carpenter's work too. _Yes_, grannie, I have settled now; I'll be a +carpenter--there!" cried Willie, jumping up from his seat. "If it hadn't +been for Mr Spelman, I don't see how we could have had _you_ with us, +grannie. Think of that!" + +"Only, if you had been a tailor or a shoemaker, you would have come +still nearer to the people themselves." + +"I don't know much about tailoring," returned Willie. "I could stitch +well enough, but I couldn't cut out. I could soon be a shoemaker, +though. I've done everything wanted in a shoe or a boot with my own +hands already; Hector will tell you so. I could begin to be a shoemaker +to-morrow. That is nearer than a carpenter. Yes." + +"I was going to suggest," said his grannie, "that there's a kind of work +that goes yet nearer to the people it helps than any of those. But, of +course, if you've made up your mind"-- + +"Oh no, grannie! I don't mean it so much as that--if there's a better +way, you know. Tell me what it is." + +"I want you to think and find out." + +Willie thought, looked puzzled, and said he couldn't tell what it was. + +"Then you must think a little longer," said his grandmother. "And now go +and wash your hands." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIX. + + +A TALK WITH Mr SHEPHERD. + +In a few minutes Willie came rushing back from his room, with his hands +and face half wet and half dry. + +"Grannie! grannie!" he panted--"what a stupid I am! How can a body be so +stupid! Of course you mean a doctor's work! My father comes nearer to +people to help them than anybody else can--and yet I never thought what +you meant. How is it you can know a thing and not know it at the same +moment?" + +"Well, now you've found what I meant, what do you think of it?" said his +grandmother. + +"Why, of course, it's the best of all. When I was a little fellow, I +used to think I should be a doctor some day, but I don't feel quite so +sure of it now. Do you really think, grannie, I _could_ be a doctor like +papa? You see that wants such a good head--and--and--everything." + +"Yes; it does want a good head and everything. But you've got a good +enough head to begin with, and it depends on yourself to make it a +better one. So long as people's hearts keep growing better, their heads +do the same. I think you have every faculty for the making of a good +doctor in you." + +"Do you really think so, grannie?" cried Willie, delighted. + +"I do indeed." + +"Then I shall ask papa to teach me." + +But Willie did not find his papa quite ready to take him in hand. + +"No, Willie," he said. "You must learn a great many other things before +it would be of much use for me to commence my part. I will teach you if +you like, after school-hours, to compound certain medicines; but the +important thing is to get on at school. You are quite old enough now +to work at home too; and though I don't want to confine you to your +lessons, I should like you to spend a couple of hours at them every +evening. You can have the remainders of the evenings, all the mornings +before breakfast, and the greater parts of your half-holidays, for +whatever you like to do of another sort." + +Willie never required any urging to what his father wished. He became at +once more of a student, without becoming much less of a workman--for he +found plenty of time to do all he wanted, by being more careful of his +odd moments. + +One lovely evening in spring, when the sun had gone down and left the +air soft, and balmy, and full of the scents which rise from the earth +after a shower, and the odours of the buds which were swelling and +bursting in all directions, Willie was standing looking out of his open +window into the parson's garden, when Mr Shepherd saw him and called to +him-- + +"Come down here, Willie," he said. "I want to have a little talk with +you." + +Willie got on the wall from the top of his stair, dropped into the +stable-yard, which served for the parson's pony as well as the Doctor's +two horses, and thence passed into Mr Shepherd's garden, where the two +began to walk up and down together. + +The year was like a child waking up from a sleep into which he had +fallen crying. Its life was returning to it, fresh and new. It was as if +God were again drawing nigh to His world. All the winter through He had +never left it, only had, as it were, been rolling it along the path +before Him; but now had taken it up in His hand, and was carrying it for +a while; and that was how its birds were singing so sweetly, and its +buds were coming so blithely out of doors, and the wind blew so soft, +and the rain fell so repentantly, and the earth sent up such a gracious +odour. + +"The year is coming to itself again, Willie--growing busy once more," Mr +Shepherd said. + +"Yes," answered Willie. "It's been all but dead, and has come to life +again. It must have had the doctor to it." + +"Eh? What doctor, Willie?" + +"Well, you know, there is but One that could be doctor to this big +world." + +"Yes, surely," returned Mr Shepherd. "And that brings me to what I +wanted to talk to you about. I hear your father means to make a doctor +of you." + +"Yes. Isn't it good of him?" said Willie. + +"Then you would like it?" + +"Yes; that I should!" + +"Why would you like it?" + +"Because I _must_ have a hand in the general business." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +Willie set forth Hector Macallaster's way of thinking about such +matters. + +"Very good--very good indeed!" remarked Mr Shepherd. "But why, then, +should you prefer being a doctor to being a shoemaker? Is it because you +will get better paid for it?" + +"I never thought of that," returned Willie. "Of course I should be +better paid--for Hector couldn't keep a horse, and a horse I must have, +else some of my patients would be dead before I could get to them. +But that's not why I want to be a doctor. It's because I want to help +people." + +"What makes you want to help people?" + +"Because it's the best thing you can do with yourself." + +"Who told you that?" + +"I don't know. It seems as if everybody and everything had been teaching +me that, ever since I can remember." + +"Well, it's no wonder it should seem as if everything taught you that, +seeing that is what God is always doing--and what Jesus taught us as the +law of His kingdom--which is the only real kingdom--namely, that the +greatest man in it is he who gives himself the most to help other +people. It was because Jesus Himself did so--giving Himself up +utterly--that God has so highly exalted Him and given Him a name above +every name. And, indeed, if you are a good doctor, you will be doing +something of what Jesus did when He was in the world." + +"Yes; but He didn't give people medicine to cure them." + +"No; that wasn't necessary, because He was Himself the cure. But now +that He is not present with His bodily presence--now, medicine and +advice and other good things are just the packets in which He wraps up +the healing He sends; and the wisest doctor is but the messenger who +carries to the sick as much of healing and help as the Great Doctor sees +fit to send. For He is so anxious to cure thoroughly that in many cases +He will not cure all at once." + +"How I _should_ like to take His healing about!" cried Willie--"just as +the doctors' boys take the medicines about in baskets: grannie tells me +they do in the big towns. I _should_ like to be the Great Doctor's boy!" + +"You really think then," Mr Shepherd resumed, after a pause, "that a +doctor's is the best way of helping people?" + +"Yes, I do," answered Willie, decidedly. "A doctor, you see, comes +nearest to them with his help. It's not the outside of a man's body he +helps, but his inside health--how he feels, you know." + +Mr Shepherd again thought for a few moments. At length he said-- + +"What's the difference between your father's work and mine?" + +"A great difference, of course," replied Willie. + +"Tell me then what it is?" + +"I must think before I can do that," said Willie. "It's not so easy to +put things in words!--You very often go to help the same people: that's +something to start with." + +"But not to give them the same help." + +"No, not quite. And yet"-- + +"At least, I cannot write prescriptions or compound medicines for them, +seeing I know nothing about such things," said Mr Shepherd. "But, on +the other hand, though I can't give them medicine out of your papa's +basket, your papa very often gives them medicine out of mine." + +"That's a riddle, I suppose," said Willie. + +"No, it's not. How is it your papa can come so near people to help +them?" + +"He gives them things that make them well again." + +"What do they do with the things he gives them?" + +"They take them." + +"How?" + +"Put them in their mouths and swallow them." + +"Couldn't they take them at their ears?" + +"No," answered Willie, laughing. + +"Why not?" + +"Because their ears aren't meant for taking them." + +"Aren't their ears meant for taking anything, then?" + +"Only words." + +"Well, if one were to try, mightn't words be mixed so as to be +medicine?" + +"I don't see how." + +"If you were to take a few strong words, a few persuasive words, and +a few tender words, mightn't you mix them so--that is, so set them in +order--as to make them a good medicine for a sore heart, for instance?" + +"Ah! I see, I see! Yes, the medicine for the heart must go in at the +ears." + +"Not necessarily. It might go in at the eyes. Jesus gave it at the eyes, +for doubting hearts, when He said--Consider the lilies,--consider the +ravens." + +"At the ears, too, though," said Willie; "just as papa sometimes gives a +medicine to be taken and to be rubbed in both." + +"Only the ears could have done nothing with the words if the eyes hadn't +taken in the things themselves first. But where does this medicine go +to, Willie?" + +"I suppose it must go to the heart, if that's the place wants healing." + +"Does it go to what a doctor would call the heart, then?" + +"No, no; it must go to what--to what a clergyman--to what _you_ call the +heart." + +"And which heart is nearer to the person himself?" + +Willie thought for a moment, then answered, merrily--the doctor's +heart, to be sure!" + +"No, Willie; you're wrong there," said Mr Shepherd, looking, as he +felt, a little disappointed. + +"Oh yes, please!" said Willie; "I'm almost sure I'm right this time." + +"No, Willie; what the clergyman calls the heart is the nearest to the +man himself." + +"No, no," persisted Willie. "The heart you've got to do with _is_ the +man himself. So of course the doctor's heart is the nearer to the man." + +Mr Shepherd laughed a low, pleasant laugh. + +"You're quite right, Willie. You've got the best of it. I'm very +pleased. But then, Willie, doesn't it strike you that after all there +might be a closer way of helping men than the doctor's way?" + +Again Willie thought a while. + +"There would be," he said, at length, "if you could give them medicine +to make them happy when they are miserable." + +"Even the doctor can do a little at that," returned Mr Shepherd; "for +when in good health people are much happier than when they are ill." + +"If you could give them what would make them good when they are bad +then," said Willie. + +"Ah, there you have it!" rejoined Mr Shepherd. "That is the very closest +way of helping men." + +"But nobody can do that--nobody can make a bad man good--but God," said +Willie. + +"Certainly. But He uses medicines; and He sends people about with them, +just like the doctors' boys you were speaking of. What else am _I_ here +for? I've been carrying His medicines about for a good many years now." + +"Then _your_ work and not my father's comes nearest to people to help +them after all! My father's work, I see, doesn't help the very man +himself; it only helps his body--or at best his happiness: it doesn't go +deep enough to touch himself. But yours helps the very man. Yours is the +best after all." + +"I don't know," returned Mr Shepherd, thoughtfully. "It depends, I +think, on the kind of preparation gone through." + +"Oh yes!" said Willie. "You had to go through the theological classes. I +must of course take the medical." + +"That's true, but it's not true enough," said Mr Shepherd. "That +wouldn't make a fraction of the difference I mean. There's just one +preparation essential for a man who would carry about the best sort of +medicines. Can you think what it is? It's not necessary for the other +sort." + +"The man must be good," said Willie. "I suppose that's it." + +"That doesn't make the difference exactly," returned Mr Shepherd. "It +is as necessary for a doctor to be good as for a parson." + +"Yes," said Willie; "but though the doctor were a bad man, his medicines +might be good." + +"Not by any means so likely to be!" said the parson. "You can never be +sure that anything a bad man has to do with will be good. It may be, +because no man is all bad; but you can't be sure of it. We are coming +nearer it now. Mightn't the parson's medicines be good if he were bad +just as well as the doctor's?" + +"Less likely still, I think," said Willie. "The words might be all of +the right sort, but they would be like medicines that had lain in his +drawers or stood in his bottles till the good was all out of them." + +"You're coming very near to the difference of preparation I wanted to +point out to you," said Mr Shepherd. "It is this: that the physician of +men's _selves_, commonly called _souls_, must have taken and must keep +taking the medicine he carries about with him; while the less the doctor +wants of his the better." + +"I see, I see," cried Willie, whom a fitting phrase, or figure, or form +of expressing a thing, pleased as much as a clever machine--"I see! It's +all right! I understand now." + +"But," Mr Shepherd went on, "your father carries about both sorts of +medicines in his basket. He is such a healthy man that I believe he very +seldom uses any of his own medicines; but he is always taking some of +the other sort, and that's what makes him fit to carry them about. He +does far more good among the sick than I can. Many who don't like my +medicine, will yet take a little of it when your father mixes it with +his, as he has a wonderful art in doing. I hope, when your turn comes, +you will be able to help the very man himself, as your father does." + +"Do you want me to be a doctor of _your_ kind, Mr Shepherd?" + +"No. It is a very wrong thing to take up that basket without being told +by Him who makes the medicine. If He wants a man to do so, He will let +him know--He will call him and tell him to do it. But everybody ought to +take the medicine, for everybody needs it; and the happy thing is, +that, as soon as anyone has found how good it is--food and wine and all +upholding things in one--he becomes both able and anxious to give it to +others. If you would help people as much as your father does, you must +begin by taking some of the real medicine yourself." + +This conversation gave Willie a good deal to think about. And he had +much need to think about it, for soon after this he left his father's +house for the first time in his life, and went to a great town, to +receive there a little further preparation for college. The next year he +gained a scholarship, or, as they call it there, a _bursary_, and was at +once fully occupied with classics and mathematics, hoping, however, the +next year, to combine with them certain scientific studies bearing less +indirectly upon the duties of the medical man. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +HOW WILLIE DID HIS BEST TO MAKE A BIRD OF AGNES. + +During the time he was at college, he did often think of what Mr +Shepherd had said to him. When he was tempted to any self-indulgence, +the thought would always rise that this was not the way to become able +to help people, especially the real selves of them; and, when amongst +the medical students, he could not help thinking how much better doctors +some of them would make if they would but try the medicine of the other +basket for themselves. He thought this especially when he saw that they +cared nothing for their patients, neither had any desire to take a part +in the general business for the work's sake, but only wanted a practice +that they might make a living. For such are nearly as unfit to be +healers of the body, as mere professional clergymen to be healers of +broken hearts and wounded minds. To do a man good in any way, you must +sympathise with him--that is, know what he feels, and reflect the +feeling in your own mirror; and to be a good doctor, one must love to +heal; must honour the art of the physician and rejoice in it; must give +himself to it, that he may learn all of it that he can--from its root of +love to its branches of theory, and its leaves and fruits of healing. + +He always came home to Priory Leas for the summer intervals, when you +may be sure there was great rejoicing--loudest on the part of Agnes, +who was then his constant companion, as much so, at least, as she was +allowed. Willie saw a good deal of Mona Shepherd also, who had long been +set free from the oppressive charge of Janet, and was now under the care +of a governess, a wise, elderly lady; and as she was a great friend of +Mrs Macmichael, the two families were even more together now than they +had been in former years. + +Of course, while at college he had no time to work with his hands: all +his labour there must be with his head; but when he came home he had +plenty of time for both sorts. He spent a couple of hours before +breakfast in the study of physiology; after breakfast, another hour +or two either in the surgery, or in a part of the ruins which he had +roughly fitted up for a laboratory with a bench, a few shelves, and a +furnace. His father, however, did not favour his being in the latter for +a long time together; for young experimenters are commonly careless, and +will often neglect proper precautions--breathing, for instance, many +gases they ought not to breathe. He was so careful over Agnes, however, +that often he would not let her in at all; and when he did, he generally +confined himself to her amusement. He would show her such lovely +things!--for instance, liquids that changed from one gorgeous hue to +another; bubbles that burst into flame, and ascended in rings of +white revolving smoke; light so intense, that it seemed to darken the +daylight. Sometimes Mona would be of the party, and nothing pleased +Agnes or her better than such wonderful things as these; while Willie +found it very amusing to hear Agnes, who was sharp enough to pick up not +a few of the chemical names, dropping the big words from her lips as +if she were on the most familiar terms with the things they +signified--_phosphuretted hydrogen, metaphosphoric acid, +sesquiferrocyanide of iron_, and such like. + +Then he would give an hour to preparation for the studies of next term; +after which, until their early dinner, he would work at his bench or +turning-lathe, generally at something for his mother or grandmother; +or he would do a little mason-work amongst the ruins, patching and +strengthening, or even buttressing, where he thought there was most +danger of further fall--for he had resolved that, if he could help it, +not another stone should come to the ground. + +In this, his first summer at home from college, he also fitted up a +small forge--in a part of the ruins where there was a wide chimney, +whose vent ran up a long way unbroken. Here he constructed a pair of +great bellows, and set up an old anvil, which he bought for a trifle +from Mr Willett; and here his father actually trusted him to shoe his +horses; nor did he ever find a nail of Willie's driving require to be +drawn before the shoe had to give place to a new one. + +In the afternoon, he always read history, or tales, or poetry; and in +the evening did whatever he felt inclined to do--which brings me to what +occupied him the last hours of the daylight, for a good part of this +first summer. + +One lovely evening in June, he came upon Agnes, who was now eight years +old, lying under the largest elm of a clump of great elms and Scotch +firs at the bottom of the garden. They were the highest trees in all the +neighbourhood, and his father was very fond of them. To look up into +those elms in the summer time your eyes seemed to lose their way in a +mist of leaves; whereas the firs had only great, bony, bare, gaunt arms, +with a tuft of bristles here and there. But when a ray of the setting +sun alighted upon one of these firs it shone like a flamingo. It seemed +as if the surly old tree and the gracious sunset had some secret between +them, which, as often as they met, broke out in ruddy flame. + +Now Agnes was lying on the thin grass under this clump of trees, looking +up into their mystery--and--what else do you think she was doing?--She +was sucking her thumb--her custom always when she was thoughtful; and +thoughtful she seemed now, for the tears were in her eyes. + +"What is the matter with my pet?" said Willie. + +But instead of jumping up and flinging her arms about him, she only +looked at him, gave a little sigh, drew her thumb from her mouth, +pointed with it up into the tree, and said, "I can't get up there! I +wish I was a bird," and put her thumb in her mouth again. + +"But if you were a bird, you wouldn't be a girl, you know, and you +wouldn't like that," said Willie--"at least _I_ shouldn't like it." + +"_I_ shouldn't mind. I would rather have wings and fly about in the +trees." + +"If you had wings you couldn't have arms." + +"I'd rather have wings." + +"If you were a bird up there, you would be sure to wish you were a girl +down here. For if you were a bird you couldn't lie in the grass and look +up into the tree." + +"Oh yes, I could." + +"What a comical little bird you would look then--lying on your little +round feathery back, with wings spread out to keep you from rolling +over, and little sparkling eyes, one on each side of such a long beak, +staring up into the tree!--Miaw! Miaw! Here comes the cat to eat you +up!" + +Agnes sprang to her feet in terror, and rushed to Willie. She had so +fully fancied herself a bird that the very mention of the cat had filled +her with horror. Once more she took her thumb from her mouth to give a +little scream, and did not put it in again. + +"O Willie! you frightened me so!" she said--joining, however, in his +laugh. + +"Poor birdie!" said Willie. "Did the naughty puss frighten it? Stwoke +its fedders den.--Stwoke it--stwoke it," he continued, smoothing down +her hair. + +"But _wouldn't_ it be nice," persisted Agnes, "to be so tall as the +birds can make themselves with their wings? Fancy having your head +up there in the green leaves--so cool! and hearing them all whisper, +whisper, about your ears, and being able to look down on people's heads, +you know, Willie! I do wish I was a bird! I do!" + +But with Willie to comfort and play with her, she soon forgot her +soaring ambition. Willie, however, did not forget it. If Agnes wished +to enjoy the privacy of the leaves up in the height of the trees, why +shouldn't she? At least, why shouldn't she if he could help her to it. +Certainly he couldn't change her arms into wings, or cover her with +feathers, or make her bones hollow so that the air might get all through +her, even into her quills; but he could get her up into the tree, and +even something more, perhaps. He would see about it--that is, he would +think about it, for how it was to be done he did not yet see. + +Long ago, almost the moment he arrived, he had set his wheel in order, +and got his waking-machine into working trim. And now more than ever he +enjoyed being pulled out of bed in the middle of the night--especially +in the fine weather; for then, in that hushed hour when the night is +just melting into the morn, and the earth looks as if she were losing +her dreams, yet had not begun to recognise her own thoughts, he would +not unfrequently go out into the garden, and wander about for a few +thoughtful minutes. + +The same night, when his wheel pulled him, he rose and went out into +the garden. The night was at odds with morning which was which. An +occasional bat would flit like a doubtful shadow across his eyes, but a +cool breath of air was roaming about as well, which was not of the night +at all, but plainly belonged to the morning. He wandered to the bottom +of the garden--to the clump of trees, lay down where Agnes had been +lying the night before, and thought and thought until he felt in himself +how the child had felt when she longed to be a bird. What could he do +to content her? He knew every bough of the old trees himself, having +scrambled over them like a squirrel scores of times; but even if he +could get Agnes up the bare bole of an elm or fir, he could not trust +her to go scrambling about the branches. On the other hand, wherever he +could go, he could surely somehow help Agnes to go. Having gathered a +thought or two, he went back to bed. + +The very next evening he set to work and spent the whole of that and the +following at his bench, planing, and shaping, and generally preparing +for a construction, the plan of which was now clear in his head. At +length, on the third evening, he carried half a dozen long poles, and +wheeled several barrowfuls of short planks, measuring but a few inches +over two feet, down to the clump of trees. + +At the foot of the largest elm he began to dig, with the intention +of inserting the thick end of one of the poles; but he soon found it +impossible to get half deep enough, because of the tremendous roots of +the tree, and giving it up, thought of a better plan. + +He set off to the smithy, and bought of Mr Willett some fifteen feet of +iron rod, with a dozen staples. Carrying them home to his small forge, +he cut the rod into equal lengths of a little over two feet, and made a +hook at both ends of each length. Then he carried them down to the +elm, and drove six of the staples into the bole of the tree at equal +distances all round it, a foot from the ground; the others he drove one +into each of the six poles, a foot from the thick end; after which +he connected the poles with the tree, each by a hooked rod and its +corresponding staples, when the tops of the poles just reached to the +first fork of the elm. Then he nailed a bracket to the tree, at the +height of an easy step from the ground, and at the same height nailed a +piece of wood across between two of the poles. Resting on the bracket +and this piece of wood, he laid the first step of a stair, and fastened +it firmly to both. Another bracket a little higher, and another piece of +wood nailed to two poles, raised the next step; and so he went round and +round the tree in an ascending spiral, climbing on the steps already +placed to fix others above them. Encircling the tree some four or five +times, for he wanted the ascent easy for little feet, he was at length +at its fork. There he laid a platform or landing-place, and paused to +consider what to do next. This was on the third evening from the laying +of the first step. + +From the fork many boughs rose and spread--amongst them two very near +each other, between which he saw how, by help of various inequalities, +he might build a little straight staircase leading up into a perfect +wilderness of leaves and branches. He set about it at once, and, +although he found it more difficult than he had expected, succeeded at +last in building a safe stair between the boughs, with a hand-rail of +rope on each side. + +But Willie had chosen to ascend in this direction for another reason as +well: one of these boughs was in close contact with a bough belonging to +one of the largest of the red firs. On this fir-bough he constructed a +landing-place, upon which it was as easy as possible to step from the +stair in the elm. Next, the bough being very large, he laid along it a +plank steadied by blocks underneath--a level for the little feet. Then +he began to weave a network of rope and string along each side of the +bough, so that the child could not fall off; but finding this rather a +long job, and thinking it a pity to balk her of so much pleasure merely +for the sake of surprising her the more thoroughly, he resolved to +reveal what he had already done, and permit her to enjoy it. + +For, as I ought to have mentioned sooner, he had taken Mona into his +confidence, and she had kept Agnes out of the way for now nearly a whole +week of evenings. But she was finding it more and more difficult to +restrain her from rushing off in search of Willie, and was very glad +indeed when he told her that he was not going to keep the thing a secret +any longer. + + + +[Illustration: WILLIE CARRIED AGNES UP THE STAIR INTO THE GREAT BRANCHES +OF THE ELM TREE.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +HOW AGNES LIKED BEING A BIRD. + +But Willie began to think whether he might not give Agnes two surprises +out of it, with a dream into the bargain, and thought over it until he +saw how he could manage it. + +She always went to bed at seven o'clock, so that by the time the other +people in the house began to think of retiring, she was generally fast +asleep. About ten o'clock, therefore, the next night, just as a great +round moon was peering above the horizon, with a quantity of mackerel +clouds ready to receive her when she rose a yard or two higher, Willie, +taking a soft shawl of his mother's, went into Agnes's room, and having +wrapped her in the shawl, with a corner of it over her head and face, +carried her out into the garden, down to the trees, and up the stair +into the midst of the great boughs and branches of the elm tree. It was +a very warm night, with a soft breath of south wind blowing, and there +was no risk of her taking cold. He uncovered her face, but did not wake +her, leaving that to the change of her position and the freshness of the +air. + +Nor was he disappointed. In a few moments she began to stir, then +half-opened her eyes, then shut them, then opened them again, then +rubbed them, then drew a deep breath, and then began to lift her head +from Willie's shoulder, and look about her. Through the thick leaves the +moon was shining like a great white fire, and must have looked to her +sleepy eyes almost within a yard of her. Even if she had not been half +asleep, so beheld through the leaves, it would have taken her a while to +make up her mind what the huge bright thing was. Then she heard a great +fluttering as if the leaves were talking to her, and out of them came a +soft wind that blew in her face, and felt very sweet and pleasant. She +rubbed her eyes again, but could not get the sleep out of them. As last +she said to Willie, who stood as still as a stone--but her tongue and +her voice and her lips could hardly make the words she wanted them to +utter: + +"Am I awake? Am I dreaming? It's so nice!" + +Willie did not answer her, and the little head sunk on his shoulder +again. He drew the corner of the shawl over it, and carried her back to +her bed. When he had laid her down, she opened her eyes wide, stared him +in the face for a moment, as if she knew all about everything except +just what she was looking at, put her thumb in her mouth, and was fast +asleep. + +The next morning at breakfast, her papa out, and her mamma not yet come +down, she told Willie that she had had such a beautiful dream!--that an +angel, with great red wings, came and took her in his arms, and flew +up and up with her to a cloud that lay close by the moon, and there +stopped. The cloud was made all of little birds that kept fluttering +their wings and talking to each other, and the fluttering of their wings +made a wind in her face, and the wind made her very happy, and the moon +kept looking through the birds quite close to them, and smiling at her, +and she saw the face of the man in the moon quite plain. But then it +grew dark and began to thunder, and the angel went down very fast, and +the thunder was the clapping of his big red wings, and he flew with +her into her mamma's room, and laid her down in her crib, and when she +looked at him he was so like Willie. + +"Do you think the dream could have come of your wishing to be a bird, +Agnes?" asked Willie. + +"I don't know. Perhaps," replied Agnes. "Are you angry with me for +wishing I was a bird, Willie?" + +"No, darling. What makes you ask such a question?" + +"Because ever since then you won't let me go with you--when you are +doing things, you know." + +"Why, you were in the laboratory with me yesterday!" said Willie. + +"Yes, but you wouldn't have me in the evening when you used to let me +be with you always. What are you doing down amongst the trees _always_ +now?" + +"If you will have patience and not go near them all day, I will show you +in the evening." + +Agnes promised; and Willie gave the whole day to getting things on a +bit. Amongst other things he wove such a network along the bough of the +Scotch fir, that it was quite safe for Agnes to walk on it down to the +great red hole of the tree. There he was content to make a pause for the +present, constructing first, however, a little chair of bough and branch +and rope and twig in which she could safely sit. + +Just as he had finished the chair, he heard her voice calling, in a tone +that grew more and more pitiful. + +"Willie!--Willie!--Willie!--Willie!" + +He got down and ran to find her. She was at the window of his room, +where she had gone to wait till he called her, but her patience had at +last given way. + +"I'm _so_ tired, Willie! Mayn't I come yet?" + +"Wait just one moment more," said Willie, and ran to the house for his +mother's shawl. + +As soon as he began to wrap it about her, Agnes said, thoughtfully-- + +"Somebody did that to me before--not long ago--I remember: it was the +angel in my dream." + +When Willie put the corner over her face, she said, "He did that too!" +and when he took her in his arms, she said, "He did that too! How funny +you should do just what the angel did in my dream!" + +Willie ran about with her here and there through the ruins, into +the house, up and down the stairs, and through the garden in many +directions, until he was satisfied he must have thoroughly bewildered +her as to whereabouts they were, and then at last sped with her up the +stair to the fork of the elm-tree. There he threw back the shawl, and +told her to look. + +To see her first utterly bewildered expression--then the slow glimmering +dawn of intelligence, as she began to understand where she was--next the +gradual rise of light in her face as if it came there from some spring +down below, until it broke out in a smile all over it, when at length +she perceived that this was what he had been working at, and why he +wouldn't have her with him--gave Willie all the pleasure he had hoped +for--quite satisfied him, and made him count his labour well rewarded. + +"O Willie! Willie! it was all for me!--Wasn't it now?" + +"Yes, it was, pet," said Willie. + +"It was all to make a bird of me--wasn't it?" she went on. + +"Yes--as much of a bird as I could. I couldn't give you wings, you know, +and I hadn't any of my own to fly up with you to the moon, as the angel +in your dream did. The dream was much nicer--wasn't it?" + +"I'm not sure about that--really I'm not. I think it is nicer to have a +wind coming you don't know from where, and making all the leaves flutter +about, than to have the wings of birdies making the wind. And I don't +care about the man in the moon much. He's not so nice as you, Willie. +And yon red ray of the sun through there on the fir-tree is as good +nearly as the moon." + +"Oh! but you may have the moon, if you wait a bit. She'll be too late +to-night, though." + +"But now I think of it, Willie," said Agnes, "I do believe it wasn't a +dream at all." + +"Do you think a real angel carried you really up to the moon, then?" +asked Willie. + +"No; but a real Willie carried me really up into this tree, and the +moon shone through the leaves, and I thought they were birds. You're my +angel, Willie, only better to me than twenty hundred angels." + +And Agnes threw her arms round his neck and hugged and kissed him. + +As soon as he could speak, that is, as soon as she ceased choking him, +he said-- + +"You _were_ up in this tree last night: and the wind was fluttering the +leaves; and the moon was shining through them"-- + +"And you carried me in this shawl, and that was the red wings of the +angel," cried Agnes, dancing with delight. + +"Yes, pet, I daresay it was. But aren't you sorry to lose your big +angel?" + +"The angel was only in a dream, and you're here, Willie. Besides, you'll +be a big angel some day, Willie, and then you'll have wings, and be able +to fly me about." + +"But you'll have wings of your own then, and be able to fly without me." + +"But I _may_ fold them up sometimes--mayn't I? for it would be much +nicer to be carried by _your_ wings--sometimes, you know. Look, look, +Willie! Look at the sunbeam on the trunk of the fir--how red it's got. +I do wish I could have a peep at the sun. Where can he be? I should see +him if I were to go into his beam there--shouldn't I?" + +"He's shining past the end of the cottage," said Willie. "Go, and you'll +see him." + +"Go where?" asked Agnes. + +"Into the red sunbeam on the fir-tree." + +"I haven't got my wings yet, Willie." + +"That's what people very often say when they're not inclined to try what +they can do with their legs." + +"But I can't go there, Willie." + +"You haven't tried." + +"How am I to try?" + +"You're not even trying to try. You're standing talking, and saying you +can't." + +It was nearly all Agnes could do to keep from crying. But she felt she +must do something more lest Willie should be vexed. There seemed but one +way to get nearer to the sunbeam, and that was to go down this tree and +run to the foot of the other. What if Willie had made a stair up it +also? But as she turned to see how she was to go down, for she had been +carried up blind, she caught sight of the straight staircase between the +two boughs, and, with a shriek of delight, up she ran. + +"Gently, gently! Don't bring the tree down with your tremendous weight," +cried Willie, following her close behind. + +At the end of the stairs she sprang upon the bough of the fir, and in a +moment more was sitting in the full light of the sunset. + +"O Willie! Willie! this _is_ grand! How good, how kind of you! You +_have_ made a bird of me! What will papa and mamma say? Won't they be +delighted? I must run and fetch Mona." + +So saying she hurried across again, and down the stair, and away to look +for Mona Shepherd, shouting with delight as she ran. In a few minutes +her cries had gathered the whole house to the bottom of the garden, as +well as Mr Shepherd and Mona and Mrs Hunter. Mr Macmichael and all of +them went up into the tree, Mr Shepherd last and with some misgivings; +for, having no mechanical faculty himself, he could not rightly value +Willie's, and feared that he might not have made the stair safe. But Mr +Macmichael soon satisfied him, showing him how strong and firm Willie +had made every part of it. + +The next evening, Willie went on with his plan, which was to make a way +for Bird Agnes from one tree to another over the whole of the clump. It +took him many evenings, however, to complete it, and a good many more +to construct in the elm tree a thin wooden house cunningly perched upon +several of the strongest boughs and branches. He called it Bird Agnes's +Nest. It had doors and windows, and several stories in it, only the +upper stories did not rest on the lower, but upon higher branches of the +tree. To two of these he made stairs, and a rope-ladder to a third. When +the house was finished, he put a little table in the largest room, and +having got some light chairs from the house, asked his father and mother +and grandmother to tea in Bird Agnes's Nest. But grannie declined to go +up the tree. She said _her_ climbing days were over long ago. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +WILLIE'S PLANS BUD. + +Either they were over, or were only beginning; for, the next winter, +while Willie was at college, grannie was taken ill; and although they +sent for him to come home at once, she had climbed higher ere he +arrived. When they opened her will, they found that she had left +everything to Willie. There was more than a hundred pounds in ready +money, and property that brought in about fifty pounds a-year--not much +to one who would have spent everything on himself, but a good deal to +one who loved other people, and for their sakes would contrive that a +little should go a long way. + +So Willie was henceforth able to relieve his father by paying all his +own college expenses. He laid by a little too, as his father wished him, +until he should see how best to use it. His father always talked about +_using_ never about _spending_ money. + +When he came home the next summer, he moved again into his own old room, +for Agnes slept in a little closet off her mother's, and much preferred +that to a larger and more solitary room for herself. His mother +especially was glad to have him under the same roof once more at night. +But Willie felt that something ought to be done with the room he +had left in the ruins, for nothing ought to be allowed to spoil by +uselessness. He did not, however, see for some time to what he could +turn it. + +I need hardly say that he kept up all his old friendships. No day passed +while he was at home without his going to see some one of his former +companions--Mr Willett, or Mr Spelman, or Mr Wilson. For Hector, he +went to see him oftenest of all, he being his favourite, and sickly, +and therefore in most need of attention. But he greatly improved his +acquaintance with William Webster; and although he had now so much +to occupy him, would not be satisfied until he was able to drive the +shuttle, and work the treadles and the batten, and, in short, turn out +almost as good a bit of linen as William himself--only he wanted about +twice as much time to it. + +One day, going in to see Hector, he found him in bed and very poorly. + +"My shoemaking is nearly over, Mr Willie," he said. "But I don't mind +much; I'm sure to find a corner in the general business ready for me +somewhere when I'm not wanted here any more." + +"Have you been drinking the water lately?" asked Willie. + +"No. I was very busy last week, and hadn't time, and it was rather cold +for me to go out. But for that matter the wind blew in through door +and window so dreadfully--and it's but a clay floor, and firing is +dear--that I caught a cold, and a cold is the worst thing for me--that +is for this poor rickety body of mine. And this cold is a bad one." + +Here a great fit of coughing came on, accompanied by symptoms that +Willie saw were dangerous, and he went home at once to get him some +medicine. + +On the way back a thought struck him, about which, however, he would say +nothing to Hector until he should have talked to his father and mother +about it, which he did that same evening at supper. + +"I'll tell you what, Hector," he said, when he went to see him the next +day--"you must come and occupy my room in the ruins. Since grannie went +home I don't want it, and it's a pity to have it lying idle. It's a deal +warmer than this, and I'll get a stove in before the winter. You won't +have to work so hard when you've got no rent to pay, and you will have +as much of the water as you like without the trouble of walking up +the hill for it. Then there's the garden for you to walk in when you +please--all on a level, and only the little stair to climb to get back +to your own room." + +"But I should be such a trouble to you all, Mr Willie!" + +"You'd be no trouble--we've two servants now. If you like you can give +the little one a shilling now and then, and she'll be glad enough to +make your bed, and sweep out your room; and you know Tibby has a great +regard for you, and will be very glad to do all the cooking you will +want--it's not much, I know: your porridge and a cup of tea is about +all. And then there's my father to look after your health, and Agnes to +amuse you sometimes, and my mother to look after everything, and"-- + +Here poor Hector fairly broke down. When he recovered himself he said-- + +"But how could gentle folks like you bear to see a hump-backed creature +like me crawling about the place?" + +"They would only enjoy it the more that you enjoyed it," said Willie. + +It was all arranged. As soon as Hector was able to be moved, he was +carried up to the Ruins, and there nursed by everybody. Nothing could +exceed his comfort now but his gratitude. He was soon able to work +again, and as he was evidently happier when doing a little towards the +general business, Mr Macmichael thought it best for him. + +One day, Willie being at work in his laboratory, and getting himself +half-stifled with a sudden fume of chlorine, opened the door for some +air just as Hector had passed it. He stood at the door and followed him +down the walk with his eyes, watching him as he went--now disappearing +behind the blossoms of an apple-tree, now climbing one of the little +mounds, and now getting up into the elm-tree, and looking about him on +all sides, his sickly face absolutely shining with pleasure. + +"But," said Willie all at once to himself, "why should Hector be the +only invalid to have this pleasure?" + +He found no answer to the question. I don't think he looked for one very +hard though. And again, all at once, he said to himself-- + +"What if this is what my grannie's money was given me for?" + +That night he had a dream. The two questions had no doubt a share in +giving it him, and perhaps also a certain essay of Lord Bacon--"Of +Building," namely--which he had been reading before he went to bed. + +[Illustration: WILLIE'S DREAM.] + +He dreamed that, being pulled up in the middle of the night by his +wheel, he went down to go into the garden. But the moment he was out of +the back door, he fancied there was something strange going on in his +room in the ruins--he could not tell what, but he must go and see. When +he climbed the stairs and opened the door, there was Hector Macallaster +where he ought to be, asleep in his bed. But there _was_ something +strange going on; for a stream, which came dashing over the side of the +wooden spout, was flowing all round Hector's bed, and then away he knew +not whither. Another strange thing was, that in the further wall was a +door which was new to him. He opened it, and found himself in another +chamber, like his own; and there also lay some one, he knew not who, in +a bed, with a stream of water flowing all around it. There was also a +second door, beyond which was a third room, and a third patient asleep, +and a third stream flowing around the bed, and a third door beyond. He +went from room to room, on and on, through about a hundred such, he +thought, and at length came to a vaulted chamber, which seemed to be over +the well. From the centre of the vault rose a great chimney, and under +the chimney was a huge fire, and on the fire stood a mighty golden +cauldron, up to which, through a large pipe, came the water of the well, +and went pouring in with a great rushing, and hissing, and bubbling. From +the other side of the cauldron, the water rushed away through another +pipe into the trough that ran through all the chambers, and made the +rivers that flowed the beds of the sleeping patients. And what was most +wonderful of all--by the fire stood two angels, with grand lovely wings, +and they made a great fanning with their wings, and so blew the fire up +loud and strong about the golden cauldron. And when Willie looked into +their faces, he saw that one of them was his father, and the other Mr +Shepherd. And he gave a great cry of delight, and woke weeping. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +WILLIE'S PLANS BLOSSOM. + +In the morning, Willie's head was full of his dream. How gladly would he +have turned it into a reality! That was impossible--but might he not do +something towards it? He had long ago seen that those who are doomed not +to realise their ideal, are just those who will not take the first step +towards it. "Oh! this is such a little thing to do, it can't be any +use!" they say. "And it's such a distance off what I mean, and what I +should give my life to have!" They think and they say that they would +give their life for it, and yet they will not give a single hearty +effort. Hence they just stop where they are, or rather go back and back +until they do not care a bit for the thoughts they used to think so +great that they cherished them for the glory of having thought them. But +even the wretched people who set their hearts on making money, begin by +saving the first penny they can, and then the next and the next. And +they have their reward: they get the riches they want--with the loss of +their souls to be sure, but that they did not think of. The people on +the other hand who want to be noble and good, begin by taking the first +thing that comes to their hand and doing that right, and so they go on +from one thing to another, growing better and better. + +In the same way, although it would have been absurd in Willie to rack +his brain for some scheme by which to restore such a grand building as +the Priory, he could yet bethink himself that the hundredth room did not +come next the first, neither did the third; the one after the first was +the second, and he might do something towards the existence of that. + +He went out immediately after breakfast, and began peering about the +ruins to see where the second room might be. To his delight he saw that, +with a little contrivance, it could be built on the other side of the +wall of Hector's room. + +He had plenty of money for it, his grannie's legacy not being yet +touched. He thought it all over himself, talked it all over with his +father, and then consulted it all over with Spelman. The end was, that +without nearly spending his little store, he had, before the time came +for his return to the college, built another room. + +As the garret was full of his grandmother's furniture, nothing was +easier than to fit it up--and that very nicely too. It remained only to +find an occupant for it. This would have been easy enough also without +going far from the door, but both Willie and his father were practical +men, and therefore could not be content with merely doing good: they +wanted to do as much good as they could. It would not therefore satisfy +them to put into their new room such a person--say, as Mrs Wilson, who +could get on pretty well where she was, though she might have been made +more comfortable. But suppose they could find the sickly mother of a +large family, whom a few weeks of change, with the fine air from the +hills and the wonderful water from the Prior's well, would restore to +strength and cheerfulness, how much more good would they not be doing in +that way--seeing that to help a mother with children is to help all the +children as well, not to mention the husband and the friends of the +family! There were plenty such to be found amongst the patients he had +to attend while at college. The expense of living was not great at +Priory Leas, and Mr MacMichael was willing to bear that, if only to +test the influences of the water and climate upon strangers. + +Although it was not by any means the best season for the experiment, it +was yet thoroughly successful with the pale rheumatic mother of six, +whom Willie first sent home to his father's care. She returned to her +children at Christmas, comparatively a hale woman, capable of making +them and everybody about her twice as happy as before. Another as nearly +like her in bodily condition and circumstances as he could find, took +her place,--with a like result; and before long the healing that hovered +about Priory Leas began to be known and talked of amongst the professors +of the college, and the medical men of the city. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +WILLIE'S PLANS BEAR FRUIT. + +When his studies were finished, Willie returned to assist his father, +for he had no desire to settle in a great city with the ambition of +becoming a fashionable doctor getting large fees and growing rich. He +regarded the end of life as being, in a large measure, just to take his +share in the general business. + +By this time the reputation of the Prior's Well had spread on all sides, +and the country people had begun to visit the Leas, and stay for a week +or ten days to drink of the water. Indeed so many kept coming and going +at all hours through the garden, that the MacMichaels at length found +it very troublesome, and had a small pipe laid to a little stone trough +built into the garden wall on the outside, so that whoever would might +come and drink with less trouble to all concerned. + +But Willie had come home with a new idea in his head. + +An old valetudinarian in the city, who knew every spa in Europe, wanted +to try that of Priory Leas and had consulted him about it. Finding that +there was no such accommodation to be had as he judged suitable, he +seriously advised Willie to build a house fit for persons of position, +as he called them, assuring him that they would soon make their fortunes +if they did. Now although, as I have said, this was not the ambition of +either father or son, for a fortune had never seemed to either worth +taking trouble about, yet it suggested something that was better. + +"Why," said Willie to his father, "shouldn't we restore a bit of the +Priory in such a way that a man like Mr Yellowley could endure it for +a little while? He would pay us well, and then we should be able to do +more for those that can't pay us." + +"We couldn't cook for a man like that," said his mother. + +"He wouldn't want that," said his father. "He would be sure to bring his +own servants." + +The result was that Mr MacMichael thought the thing worth trying, and +resolved to lay out all his little savings, as well as what Willie could +add, on getting a kitchen and a few convenient rooms constructed in +the ruins--of course keeping as much as possible to their plan and +architectural character. He found, however, that it would want a good +deal more than they could manage to scrape together between them, and +was on the point of giving up the scheme, or at least altering it for +one that would have been much longer in making them any return, when Mr +Shepherd, who had become acquainted with their plans, and consequently +with their difficulties, offered to join them with the little he had +laid aside for a rainy day--which proved just sufficient to complete +the sum necessary. Between the three the thing was effected, and Mr +Yellowley was their first visitor. + +I am sorry to say he grumbled a good deal at first at the proximity of +the cobbler, and at having to meet him in his walks about the garden; +but this was a point on which Mr MacMichael, who of course took the +old man's complaints good-humouredly, would not budge, and he had to +reconcile himself to it as he best might. Nor was it very difficult +after he found he must. Before long they became excellent friends, for +if you will only give time and opportunity, in an ordinarily good +man nature will overcome in the end. Mr Yellowley was at heart +good-natured, and the cobbler was well worth knowing. Before the former +left, the two were often to be seen pacing the garden together, and +talking happily. + +It is quite unnecessary to recount all the gradations of growth by which +room after room arose from the ruins of the Priory. When Mr Yellowley +went away, after nearly six months' sojourn, during the latter part of +which, so wonderfully was he restored by the air and the water and the +medical care of Mr MacMichael, he enjoyed a little shooting on the +hills, he paid him a hundred and fifty pounds for accommodation and +medical attendance--no great sum, as money goes now-a-days, but a good +return in six months for the outlay of a thousand pounds. This they laid +by to accumulate for the next addition. And the Priory, having once +taken to growing, went on with it. They cleared away mound after mound +from the garden, turning them once more into solid walls, for they were +formed mainly of excellent stones, which had just been waiting to be put +up again. The only evil consequence was that the garden became a little +less picturesque by their removal, although, on the other hand, a good +deal more productive. + +Yes, there was a second apparently bad consequence--the Priory spread as +well as grew, until it encroached not a little upon the garden. But for +this a remedy soon appeared. + +The next house and garden, although called the Manse, because the +clergyman of the parish lived there, were Mr Shepherd's own property. +The ruins formed a great part of the boundary between the two, and it +was plain to see that the Priory had extended a good way into what +was now the other garden. Indeed Mr Shepherd's house, as well as Mr +MacMichael's, had been built out of the ruins. Mr Shepherd offered +to have the wall thrown down and the building extended on his side as +well--so that it should stand in the middle of one large garden. + +My readers need not put a question as to what would have become of it if +the two proprietors had quarrelled; for it had become less likely than +ever that such a thing should happen. Willie had told Mona that he loved +her more that he could tell, and wanted to ask her a question, only he +didn't know how; and Mona had told Willie that she would suppose his +question if he would suppose her answer; and Willie had said, "May I +suppose it to be the very answer I should like?" and Mona had answered +"Yes" quite decidedly; and Willie had given her a kiss; and Mona +had taken the kiss and given him another for it; and so it was all +understood, and there was no fear of the wall having to be built up +again between the gardens. + +So the Priory grew and flourished and gained great reputation; and the +fame of the two doctors, father and son, spread far and wide for the +cures they wrought. And many people came and paid them large sums. But +the more rich people that came, the more poor people they invited. For +they never would allow the making of money to intrude upon the dignity +of their high calling. How should avarice and cure go together? _A +greedy healer of men_! What a marriage of words! + +The Priory became quite a grand building. The chapel grew up again, and +had windows of stained glass that shone like jewels; and Mr Shepherd, +having preached in the parish church in the morning, always preached in +the Priory chapel on the Sunday evening, and all the patients, and any +one besides that pleased, went to hear him. + +They built great baths, hot and cold, and of all kinds--from baths where +people could swim, to baths where they were only showered on by a very +sharp rain. It was a great and admirable place. + +After the two fathers died, Mona had a picture of Willie's dream +painted, with portraits of them as the two angels. + +This is the story of Gutta Percha Willie. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10093 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9de9271 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #10093 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10093) diff --git a/old/10093.txt b/old/10093.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..53e3cef --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10093.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5606 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Gutta-Percha Willie, by George MacDonald + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Gutta-Percha Willie + +Author: George MacDonald + +Release Date: November 15, 2003 [eBook #10093] + +Language: English + +Chatacter set encoding: US-ASCII + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GUTTA-PERCHA WILLIE*** + + +E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, Andrea Ball, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Gutta Percha Willie: the Working Genius + +BY + +GEORGE MACDONALD + +With eight black and white illustrations by Arthur Hughes + + + + + + + +[Illustration: WILLIE'S HORSE-SHOEING FORGE.] + + + + +CONTENTS + + I. WHO HE WAS AND WHERE HE WAS + II. WILLIE'S EDUCATION + III. HE IS TURNED INTO SOMETHING HE NEVER WAS BEFORE + IV. HE SERVES AN APPRENTICESHIP + V. HE GOES TO LEARN A TRADE + VI. HOW WILLIE LEARNED TO READ BEFORE HE KNEW HIS LETTERS + VII. SOME THINGS THAT CAME OF WILLIE'S GOING TO SCHOOL + VIII. WILLIE DIGS AND FINDS WHAT HE DID NOT EXPECT + IX. A MARVEL + X. A NEW ALARUM + XI. SOME OF THE SIGHTS WILLIE SAW + XII. A NEW SCHEME + XIII. WILLIE'S NEST IN THE RUINS + XIV. WILLIE'S GRANDMOTHER + XV. HYDRAULICS + XVI. HECTOR HINTS AT A DISCOVERY + XVII. HOW WILLIE WENT ON +XVIII. WILLIE'S TALK WITH HIS GRANDMOTHER + XIX. A TALK WITH MR SHEPHERD + XX. HOW WILLIE DID HIS BEST TO MAKE A BIRD OF AGNES + XXI. HOW AGNES LIKED BEING A BIRD + XXII. WILLIE'S PLANS BUD +XXIII. WILLIE'S PLANS BLOSSOM + XXIV. WILLIE'S PLANS BEAR FRUIT + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +BY +ARTHUR HUGHES + +WILLIE'S HORSE-SHOEING FORGE (FRONTISPIECE) +MRS WILSON'S STORIES +WILLIE WITH THE BABY +WILLIE TAKEN TO SEE A WATER-WHEEL +WILLIE TOLD HIS FATHER ALL ABOUT IT +"THAT'S WILLIE AGAIN" +WILLIE MAKES A BIRD OF AGNES +WILLIE'S DREAM + + + + +Summary: + +Gutta Percha Willie, the Working Genius +for all reading ages. We and Willie +discover the value of learning to be useful +with our hands to do that which is good and +before us. + + +Reading Level: for all reading ages. + + + + +THE HISTORY OF GUTTA-PERCHA WILLIE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +WHO HE WAS AND WHERE HE WAS. + +When he had been at school for about three weeks, the boys called him +Six-fingered Jack; but his real name was Willie, for his father and +mother gave it him--not William, but Willie, after a brother of his +father, who died young, and had always been called Willie. His name in +full was Willie Macmichael. It was generally pronounced Macmickle, which +was, by a learned anthropologist, for certain reasons about to appear +in this history, supposed to have been the original form of the name, +dignified in the course of time into Macmichael. It was his own father, +however, who gave him the name of Gutta-Percha Willie, the reason of +which will also show itself by and by. + +Mr Macmichael was a country doctor, living in a small village in a +thinly-peopled country; the first result of which was that he had very +hard work, for he had often to ride many miles to see a patient, and +that not unfrequently in the middle of the night; and the second that, +for this hard work, he had very little pay, for a thinly-peopled country +is generally a poor country, and those who live in it are poor also, +and cannot spend much even upon their health. But the doctor not only +preferred a country life, although he would have been glad to have +richer patients, and within less distances of each other, but he would +say to any one who expressed surprise that, with his reputation, he +should remain where he was--"What's to become of my little flock if I +go away, for there are very few doctors of my experience who would feel +inclined to come and undertake my work. I know every man, woman, and +child in the whole country-side, and that makes all the difference." You +see, therefore, that he was a good kind-hearted man, and loved his work, +for the sake of those whom he helped by it, better than the money he +received for it. + +Their home was necessarily a very humble one--a neat little cottage in +the village of Priory Leas--almost the one pretty spot thereabout. It +lay in a valley in the midst of hills, which did not look high, +because they rose with a gentle slope, and had no bold elevations or +grand-shaped peaks. But they rose to a good height notwithstanding, and +the weather on the top of them in the wintertime was often bitter and +fierce--bitter with keen frost, and fierce with as wild winds as ever +blew. Of both frost and wind the village at their feet had its share +too, but of course they were not so bad down below, for the hills were a +shelter from the wind, and it is always colder the farther you go up and +away from the heart of this warm ball of rock and earth upon which we +live. When Willie's father was riding across the great moorland of those +desolate hills, and the people in the village would be saying to each +other how bitterly cold it was, he would be thinking how snug and warm +it was down there, and how nice it would be to turn a certain corner on +the road back, and slip at once out of the freezing wind that had it all +its own way up among the withered gorse and heather of the wide expanse +where he pursued his dreary journey. + +For his part, Willie cared very little what the weather was, but took it +as it came. In the hot summer, he would lie in the long grass and get +cool; in the cold winter, he would scamper about and get warm. When his +hands were as cold as icicles, his cheeks would be red as apples. When +his mother took his hands in hers, and chafed them, full of pity for +their suffering, as she thought it, Willie first knew that they were +cold by the sweet warmth of the kind hands that chafed them: he had +not thought of it before. Climbing amongst the ruins of the Priory, or +playing with Farmer Thomson's boys and girls about the ricks in his +yard, in the thin clear saffron twilight which came so early after noon, +when, to some people, every breath seemed full of needle-points, so +sharp was the cold, he was as comfortable and happy as if he had been a +creature of the winter only, and found himself quite at home in it. + +For there were ruins, and pretty large ruins too, which they called the +Priory. It was not often that monks chose such a poor country to settle +in, but I suppose they had their reasons. And I dare say they were not +monks at all, but begging friars, who founded it when they wanted to +reprove the luxury and greed of the monks; and perhaps by the time they +had grown as bad themselves, the place was nearly finished, and they +could not well move it. They had, however, as I have indicated, chosen +the one pretty spot, around which, for a short distance on every side, +the land was tolerably good, and grew excellent oats if poor wheat, +while the gardens were equal to apples and a few pears, besides +abundance of gooseberries, currants, and strawberries. + +The ruins of the Priory lay behind Mr Macmichael's cottage--indeed, in +the very garden--of which, along with the house, he had purchased the +fen--that is, the place was his own, so long as he paid a small sum--not +more than fifteen shillings a year, I think--to his superior. How +long it was since the Priory had come to be looked upon as the mere +encumbrance of a cottage garden, nobody thereabouts knew; and although +by this time I presume archaeologists have ferreted out everything +concerning it, nobody except its owner had then taken the trouble to +make the least inquiry into its history. To Willie it was just the +Priory, as naturally in his father's garden as if every garden had +similar ruins to adorn or encumber it, according as the owner might +choose to regard its presence. + +The ruins were of considerable extent, with remains of Gothic arches, +and carvings about the doors--all open to the sky except a few places on +the ground-level which were vaulted. These being still perfectly solid, +were used by the family as outhouses to store wood and peats, to keep +the garden tools in, and for such like purposes. In summer, golden +flowers grew on the broken walls; in winter, grey frosts edged them +against the sky. + +I fancy the whole garden was but the space once occupied by the huge +building, for its surface was the most irregular I ever saw in a garden. +It was up and down, up and down, in whatever direction you went, mounded +with heaps of ruins, over which the mould had gathered. For many years +bushes and flowers had grown upon them, and you might dig a good way +without coming to the stones, though come to them you must at last. The +walks wound about between the heaps, and through the thick walls of the +ruin, overgrown with lichens and mosses, now and then passing through an +arched door or window of the ancient building. It was a generous garden +in old-fashioned flowers and vegetables. There were a few apple and pear +trees also on a wall that faced the south, which were regarded by Willie +with mingled respect and desire, for he was not allowed to touch them, +while of the gooseberries he was allowed to eat as many as he pleased +when they were ripe, and of the currants too, after his mother had had +as many as she wanted for preserves. + +Some spots were much too shady to allow either fruit or flowers to grow +in them, so high and close were the walls. But I need not say more about +the garden now, for I shall have occasion to refer to it again and +again, and I must not tell all I know at once, else how should I make a +story of it? + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +WILLIE'S EDUCATION. + +Willie was a good deal more than nine years of age before he could read +a single word. It was not that he was stupid, as we shall soon see, but +that he had not learned the good of reading, and therefore had not begun +to wish to read; and his father had unusual ideas about how he ought to +be educated. He said he would no more think of making Willie learn to +read before he wished to be taught than he would make him eat if he +wasn't hungry. The gift of reading, he said, was too good a thing to +give him before he wished to have it, or knew the value of it. "Would +you give him a watch," he would say, "before he cares to know whether +the sun rises in the east or the west, or at what hour dinner will be +ready?" + +Now I am not very sure how this would work with some boys and girls. I +am afraid they might never learn to read until they had boys and girls +of their own whom they wanted to be better off than, because of their +ignorance, they had been themselves. But it worked well in Willie's +case, who was neither lazy nor idle. And it must not be supposed that +he was left without any education at all. For one thing, his father +and mother used to talk very freely before him--much more so than most +parents do in the presence of their children; and nothing serves better +for teaching than the conversation of good and thoughtful people. While +they talked, Willie would sit listening intently, trying to understand +what he heard; and although it not unfrequently took very strange shapes +in his little mind, because at times he understood neither the words +nor the things the words represented, yet there was much that he did +understand and make a good use of. For instance, he soon came to know +that his father and mother had very little money to spare, and that his +father had to work hard to get what money they had. He learned also that +everything that came into the house, or was done for them, cost money; +therefore, for one thing, he must not ill-use his clothes. He learned, +too, that there was a great deal of suffering in the world, and that his +father's business was to try to make it less, and help people who were +ill to grow well again, and be able to do their work; and this made him +see what a useful man his father was, and wish to be also of some good +in the world. Then he looked about him and saw that there were a great +many ways of getting money, that is, a great many things for doing which +people would give money; and he saw that some of those ways were better +than others, and he thought his father's way the very best of all. I +give these as specimens of the lessons he learned by listening to his +father and mother as they talked together. But he had another teacher. + +Down the street of the village, which was very straggling, with nearly +as many little gardens as houses in it, there was a house occupied by +several poor people, in one end of which, consisting just of a room and +a closet, an old woman lived who got her money by spinning flax into +yarn for making linen. She was a kind-hearted old creature--widow, +without any relation near to help her or look after her. She had had one +child, who died before he was as old as Willie. That was forty years +before, but she had never forgotten her little Willie, for that was his +name too, and she fancied our Willie was like him. Nothing, therefore, +pleased her better than to get him into her little room, and talk to +him. She would take a little bit of sugar-candy or liquorice out of her +cupboard for him, and tell him some strange old fairy tale or legend, +while she sat spinning, until at last she had made him so fond of her +that he would often go and stay for hours with her. Nor did it make much +difference when his mother begged Mrs Wilson to give him something +sweet only now and then, for she was afraid of his going to see the old +woman merely for what she gave him, which would have been greedy. But +the fact was, he liked her stories better than her sugar-candy and +liquorice; while above all things he delighted in watching the wonderful +wheel go round and round so fast that he could not find out whether her +foot was making it spin, or it was making her foot dance up and down +in that curious way. After she had explained it to him as well as she +could, and he thought he understood it, it seemed to him only the more +wonderful and mysterious; and ever as it went whirring round, it sung a +song of its own, which was also the song of the story, whatever it was, +that the old woman was telling him, as he sat listening in her high soft +chair, covered with long-faded chintz, and cushioned like a nest. For +Mrs Wilson had had a better house to live in once, and this chair, as +well as the chest of drawers of dark mahogany, with brass handles, that +stood opposite the window, was part of the furniture she saved when she +had to sell the rest; and well it was, she used to say, for her old +rheumatic bones that she had saved the chair at least. In that chair, +then, the little boy would sit coiled up as nearly into a ball as might +be, like a young bird or a rabbit in its nest, staring at the wheel, and +listening with two ears and one heart to its song and the old woman's +tale both at once. + + +[Illustration: "WILLIE LIKED MRS WILSON'S STORIES BETTER THAN HER SUGAR +CANDY."] + + +One sultry summer afternoon, his mother not being very well and having +gone to lie down, his father being out, as he so often was, upon +Scramble the old horse, and Tibby, their only servant, being busy with +the ironing, Willie ran off to Widow Wilson's, and was soon curled up +in the chair, like a little Hindoo idol that had grown weary of sitting +upright, and had tumbled itself into a corner. + +Now, before he came, the old woman had been thinking about him, and +wishing very much that he would come; turning over also in her mind, as +she spun, all her stock of stories, in the hope of finding in some nook +or other one she had not yet told him; for although he had not yet begun +to grow tired even of those he knew best, it was a special treat to have +a new one; for by this time Mrs Wilson's store was all but exhausted, +and a new one turned up very rarely. This time, however, she was +successful, and did call to mind one that she had not thought of before. +It had not only grown very dusty, but was full of little holes, which +she at once set about darning up with the needle and thread of her +imagination, so that, by the time Willie arrived, she had a treat, as +she thought, quite ready for him. + +I am not going to tell you the story, which was about a poor boy who +received from a fairy to whom he had shown some kindness the gift of a +marvelous wand, in the shape of a common blackthorn walking-stick, which +nobody could suspect of possessing such wonderful virtue. By means of +it, he was able to do anything he wished, without the least trouble; and +so, upon a trial of skill, appointed by a certain king, in order to find +out which of the craftsmen of his realm was fittest to aid him in ruling +it, he found it easy to surpass every one of them, each in his own +trade. He produced a richer damask than any of the silk-weavers; a finer +linen than any of the linen-weavers; a more complicated as well as +ornate cabinet, with more drawers and quaint hiding-places, than any of +the cabinet-makers; a sword-blade more cunningly damasked, and a hilt +more gorgeously jewelled, than any of the sword-makers; a ring set with +stones more precious, more brilliant in colour, and more beautifully +combined, than any of the jewellers: in short, as I say, without knowing +a single device of one of the arts in question, he surpassed every one +of the competitors in his own craft, won the favour of the king and the +office he wished to confer, and, if I remember rightly, gained at length +the king's daughter to boot. + +For a long time Willie had not uttered a single exclamation, and when +the old woman looked up, fancying he must be asleep, she saw, to her +disappointment, a cloud upon his face--amounting to a frown. + +"What's the matter with you, Willie, my chick?" she asked. "Have you got +a headache?" + +"No, thank you, Mrs Wilson," answered Willie; "but I don't like that +story at all." + +"I'm sorry for that. I thought I should be sure to please you this time; +it is one I never told you before, for I had quite forgotten it myself +till this very afternoon. Why don't you like it?" + +"Because he was a cheat. _He_ couldn't do the things; it was only the +fairy's wand that did them." + +"But he was such a good lad, and had been so kind to the fairy." + +"That makes no difference. He _wasn't_ good. And the fairy wasn't good +either, or she wouldn't have set him to do such wicked things." + +"They weren't wicked things. They were all first-rate--everything that +he made--better than any one else could make them." + +"But he didn't make them. There wasn't one of those poor fellows he +cheated that wasn't a better man than he. The worst of them could do +something with his own hands, and I don't believe he could do anything, +for if he had ever tried he would have hated to be such a sneak. He +cheated the king, too, and the princess, and everybody. Oh! shouldn't +I like to have been there, and to have beaten him wand and all! For +somebody might have been able to make the things better still, if he had +only known how." + +Mrs Wilson was disappointed--perhaps a little ashamed that she had not +thought of this before; anyhow she grew cross; and because she was +cross, she grew unfair, and said to Willie-- + +"You think a great deal of yourself, Master Willie! Pray what could +those idle little hands of yours do, if you were to try?" + +"I don't know, for I haven't tried," answered Willie. + +"It's a pity you shouldn't," she rejoined, "if you think they would turn +out so very clever." + +She didn't mean anything but crossness when she said this--for which +probably a severe rheumatic twinge which just then passed through +her shoulder was also partly to blame. But Willie took her up quite +seriously, and asked in a tone that showed he wanted it accounted for-- + +"Why haven't I ever done anything, Mrs Wilson?" + +"You ought to know that best yourself," she answered, still cross. "I +suppose because you don't like work. Your good father and mother work +very hard, I'm sure. It's a shame of you to be so idle." + +This was rather hard on a boy of seven, for Willie was no more then. It +made him look very grave indeed, if not unhappy, for a little while, as +he sat turning over the thing in his mind. + +"Is it wrong to play about, Mrs Wilson?" he asked, after a pause of +considerable duration. + +"No, indeed, my dear," she answered; for during the pause she had begun +to be sorry for having spoken so roughly to her little darling. + +"Does everybody work?" + +"Everybody that's worth anything, and is old enough," she added. + +"Does God work?" he asked, after another pause, in a low voice. + +"No, child. What should He work for?" + +"If everybody works that is good and old enough, then I think God must +work," answered Willie. "But I will ask my papa. Am I old enough?" + +"Well, you're not old enough to do much, but you might do something." + +"What could I do? Could I spin, Mrs Wilson?" + +"No, child; that's not an easy thing to do; but you could knit." + +"Could I? What good would it do?" + +"Why, you could knit your mother a pair of stockings." + +"Could I though? Will you teach me, Mrs Wilson?" + +Mrs Wilson very readily promised, foreseeing that so she might have a +good deal more of the little man's company, if indeed he was in earnest; +for she was very lonely, and was never so happy as when he was with +her. She said she would get him some knitting-needles--wires she called +them--that very evening; she had some wool, and if he came to-morrow, +she would soon see whether he was old enough and clever enough to learn +to knit. She advised him, however, to say nothing about it to his mother +till she had made up her mind whether or not he could learn; for if he +could, then he might surprise her by taking her something of his own +knitting--at least a pair of muffetees to keep her wrists warm in the +winter. Willie went home solemn with his secret. + +The next day he began to learn, and although his fingers annoyed him a +good deal at first by refusing to do exactly as he wanted them, they +soon became more obedient; and before the new year arrived, he had +actually knitted a pair of warm white lamb's-wool stockings for his +mother. I am bound to confess that when first they were finished they +were a good deal soiled by having been on the way so long, and perhaps +partly by the little hands not always being so clean as they might +have been when he turned from play to work; but Mrs Wilson washed them +herself, and they looked, if not as white as snow, at least as white +as the whitest lamb you ever saw. I will not attempt to describe the +delight of his mother, the triumph of Willie, or the gratification of +his father, who saw in this good promise of his boy's capacity; for all +that I have written hitherto is only introductory to my story, and I +long to begin and tell it you in a regular straightforward fashion. + +Before I begin, however, I must not forget to tell you that Willie did +ask his father the question with Mrs Wilson's answer to which he had not +been satisfied--I mean the question whether God worked; and his father's +answer, after he had sat pondering for a while in his chair, was +something to this effect:-- + +"Yes, Willie; it seems to me that God works more than anybody--for He +works all night and all day, and, if I remember rightly, Jesus tells +us somewhere that He works all Sunday too. If He were to stop working, +everything would stop being. The sun would stop shining, and the moon +and the stars; the corn would stop growing; there would be no more +apples or gooseberries; your eyes would stop seeing; your ears would +stop hearing; your fingers couldn't move an inch; and, worst of all, +your little heart would stop loving." + +"No, papa," cried Willie; "I shouldn't stop loving, I'm sure." + +"Indeed you would, Willie." + +"Not you and mamma." + +"Yes; you wouldn't love us any more than if you were dead asleep without +dreaming." + +"That would be dreadful." + +"Yes it would. So you see how good God is to us--to go on working, that +we may be able to love each other." + +"Then if God works like that all day long, it must be a fine thing to +work," said Willie. + +"You are right. It is a fine thing to work--the finest thing in the +world, if it comes of love, as God's work does." + +This conversation made Willie quite determined to learn to knit; for if +God worked, he would work too. And although the work he undertook was a +very small work, it was like all God's great works, for every loop he +made had a little love looped up in it, like an invisible, softest, +downiest lining to the stockings. And after those, he went on knitting +a pair for his father; and indeed, although he learned to work with a +needle as well, and to darn the stockings he had made, and even tried +his hand at the spinning--of which, however, he could not make much for +a long time--he had not left off knitting when we come to begin the +story in the next chapter. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +HE IS TURNED INTO SOMETHING HE NEVER WAS BEFORE. + +Hitherto I have been mixing up summer and winter and everything all +together, but now I am going to try to keep everything in its own place. + +Willie was now nine years old. His mother had been poorly for some +time--confined to her room, as she not unfrequently was in the long cold +winters. It was winter now; and one morning, when all the air was dark +with falling snow, he was standing by the parlour window, looking out +on it, and wondering whether the angels made it up in the sky; for he +thought it might be their sawdust, which, when they had too much, they +shook down to get melted and put out of the way; when Tibby came into +the room very softly, and looking, he thought, very strange. + +"Willie, your mamma wants you," she said; and Willie hastened up-stairs +to his mother's room. Dark as was the air outside, he was surprised to +find how dark the room was. And what surprised him more was a curious +noise which he heard the moment he entered it, like the noise of a +hedgehog, or some other little creature of the fields or woods. But he +crept gently up to his mother's bed, saying-- + +"Are you better this morning, mamma?" + +And she answered in a feeble sweet voice-- + +"Yes, Willie, very much better. And, Willie, God has sent you a little +sister." + +"O-o-o-oh!" cried Willie. "A little sister! Did He make her Himself?" + +"Yes; He made her Himself; and sent her to you last night." + +"How busy He must have been lately!" said Willie. "Where is she? I +_should_ like to see her. Is she my very own sister?" + +"Yes, your very own sister, Willie--to love and take care of always." + +"Where is she?" + +"Go and ask nurse to let you see her." + +Then Willie saw that there was a strange woman in the room, with +something lying on her lap. He went up to her, and she folded back the +corner of a blanket, and revealed a face no bigger than that of the big +doll at the clergyman's house, but alive, quite alive--such a pretty +little face! He stood staring at it for a while. + +"May I kiss her, nurse?" + +"Yes--gently--quite gently." + +He kissed her, half afraid, he did not know of what. Her cheek was +softer and smoother than anything he had ever touched before. He sped +back to his mother, too full of delight to speak. But she was not +yet well enough to talk to him, and his father coming in, led him +down-stairs again, where he began once more to watch the snow, wondering +now if it had anything to do with baby's arrival. + +In the afternoon, it was found that the lock of his mother's room not +only would not catch easily, but made a noise that disturbed her. So his +father got a screwdriver and removed it, making as little noise as he +could. Next he contrived a way, with a piece of string, for keeping the +door shut, and as that would not hold it close enough, hung a shawl over +it to keep the draught out--all which proceeding Willie watched. As soon +as he had finished, and the nurse had closed the door behind them, Mr +Macmichael set out to take the lock to the smithy, and allowed Willie to +go with him. By the time they reached it, the snow was an inch deep on +their shoulders, on Willie's cap, and on his father's hat. How red the +glow of the smith's fire looked! It was a great black cavern with a red +heart to it in the midst of whiteness. + +The smith was a great powerful man, with bare arms, and blackened face. +When they entered, he and two other men were making the axle of a wheel. +They had a great lump of red-hot iron on the anvil, and were knocking a +big hole through it--not boring it, but knocking it through with a big +punch. One of the men, with a pair of tongs-like pincers, held the punch +steady in the hole, while the other two struck the head of it with +alternate blows of mighty hammers called sledges, each of which it took +the strength of two brawny arms to heave high above the head with a +great round swing over the shoulder, that it might come down with right +good force, and drive the punch through the glowing iron, which was, +I should judge, four inches thick. All this Willie thought he could +understand, for he knew that fire made the hardest metal soft; but what +he couldn't at all understand was this: every now and then they stopped +heaving their mighty sledges, the third man took the punch out of the +hole, and the smith himself, whose name was Willet (and _will it_ he did +with a vengeance, when he had anything on the anvil before him), caught +up his tongs in his hand, then picked up a little bit of black coal with +the tongs, and dropped it into the hole where the punch had been, where +it took fire immediately and blazed up. Then in went the punch again, +and again the huge hammering commenced, with such bangs and blows, that +the smith was wise to have no floor to his smithy, for they would surely +have knocked a hole in that, though they were not able to knock the +anvil down halfway into the earth, as the giant smith in the story did. + +While this was going on, Mr Macmichael, perceiving that the operation +ought not to be interrupted any more than a surgical one, stood quite +still waiting, and Willie stood also--absorbed in staring, and gradually +creeping nearer and nearer to the anvil, for there were no sparks flying +about to make it dangerous to the eyes, as there would have been if they +had been striking the iron itself instead of the punch. + +As soon as the punch was driven through, and the smith had dropped his +sledge-hammer, and begun to wipe his forehead, Willie spoke. + +"Mr Willet," he said, for he knew every man of any standing in the +village by name and profession, "why did you put bits of coal into the +hole you were making? I should have thought it would be in the way +rather than help you." + +"So it would, my little man," answered Willet, with no grim though grimy +smile, "if it didn't take fire and keep getting out of the way all the +time it kept up the heat. You see we depend on the heat for getting +through, and it's much less trouble to drop a bit of coal or two into +the hole, than to take up the big axle and lay it in the fire again, not +to mention the time and the quantity of coal it would take to heat it up +afresh." + +"But such little bits of coal couldn't do much?" said Willie. + +"They could do enough, and all that's less after that is saving," said +the smith, who was one of those men who can not only do a thing right +but give a reason for it. "You see I was able to put the little bits +just in the right place." + +"I see! I see!" cried Willie. "I understand! But, papa, do you think Mr +Willet is the proper person to ask to set your lock right?" + +"I haven't a doubt of it," said Mr Macmichael, taking it out of his +greatcoat pocket, and unfolding the piece of paper in which he had +wrapped it. "Why do you make a question of it?" + +"Because look what great big huge things he does! How could those +tremendous hammers set such a little thing as that right? They would +knock it all to pieces. Don't you think you had better take it to the +watchmaker?" + +"If I did, Willie, do you know what you would say the moment you saw him +at work?" + +"No, papa. What should I say?" + +"You would say, 'Don't you think, papa, you had better take it back to +the smith?" + +"But why should I say that?" + +"Because, when you saw his tools beside this lock, you would think the +tools so small and the lock so huge, that nothing could be done between +them. Yet I daresay the watchmaker could set the lock all right if he +chose to try. Don't you think so, Mr Willet?" + +"Not a doubt of it," answered the smith. + +"Had we better go to him then?" + +"Well," answered the smith, smiling, "I think perhaps he would ask you +why you hadn't come to me. No doubt he could do it, but I've got better +tools for the purpose. Let me look at the lock. I'm sure I shall be able +to set it right." + +"Not with that great big hammer, then," said Willie. + +"No; I have smaller hammers than that. When do you want it, sir?" + +"Could you manage to do it at once, and let me take it home, for there's +a little baby there, just arrived?" + +"You don't mean it!" said the smith, looking surprised. "I wish you joy, +sir." + +"And this is the lock of the room she's in," continued the doctor. + +"And you're afraid of her getting out and flying off again!" said the +smith. "I will do it at once. There isn't much wrong with it, I daresay. +I hope Mrs Macmichael is doing well, sir." + +He took the lock, drew several screws from it, and then forced it open. + +"It's nothing but the spring gone," he said, as he took out something +and threw it away. + +Then he took out several more pieces, and cleaned them all. Then he +searched in a box till he found another spring, which he put in instead +of the broken one, after snipping off a little bit with a pair of +pincers. Then he put all the pieces in, put on the cover of it, gave +something a few taps with a tiny hammer, replaced the screws, and said-- + +"Shall I come and put it on for you, sir?" + +"No, no; I am up to that much," said Mr Macmichael. "I can easily manage +that. Come, Willie. I'm much obliged to you for doing it at once. +Good-night." + +Then out they went into the snowstorm again, Willie holding fast by his +father's hand. + +"This is good," said his father. "Your mother will have a better day all +to-morrow, and perhaps a longer sleep to-night for it. You see how easy +it is to be both useful and kind sometimes. The smith did more for your +mother in those few minutes than ten doctors could have done. Think of +his great black fingers making a little more sleep and rest and warmth +for her--and all in those few minutes!" + +"Suppose he couldn't have done it," said Willie. "Do you think the +watchmaker could?" + +"That I can't tell, but I don't think it likely. We should most probably +have had to get a new one." + +"Suppose you couldn't get a new one?" + +"Then we should have had to set our wits to work, and contrive some +other way of fastening the door, so that mamma shouldn't take cold by +its being open, nor yet be disturbed by the noise of it." + +"It would be so nice to be able to do everything!" said Willie. + +"So it would; but nobody can; and it's just as well, for then we should +not need so much help from each other, and would be too independent." + +"Then shouldn't a body try to do as many things as he can?" + +"Yes, for there's no fear of ever being able to do without other people, +and you would be so often able to help them. Both the smith and the +watch maker could mend a lock, but neither of them could do without the +other for all that." + +When Willie went to bed, he lay awake a long time, thinking how, if the +lock could not have been mended, and there had been no other to be had, +he could have contrived to keep the door shut properly. In the morning, +however, he told his father that he had not thought of any way that +would do, for though he could contrive to shut and open the door well +enough, he could not think how a person outside might be able to do it; +and he thought the best way, if such a difficulty should occur, would be +to take the lock off his door, and put it on mamma's till a better +one could be got. Of this suggestion his father, much to Willie's +satisfaction, entirely approved. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +HE SERVES AN APPRENTICESHIP. + +Willie's mother grew better, and Willie's sister grew bigger; and the +strange nurse went away, and Willie and his mother and Tibby, with a +little occasional assistance from the doctor, managed the baby amongst +them. Considering that she had been yet only a short time at school, +she behaved wonderfully well. She never cried except she was in some +trouble, and even then you could seldom have seen a tear on her face. +She did all that was required of her, grew longer and broader and +heavier, and was very fond of a lighted candle. The only fault she had +was that she wouldn't give Willie quite so many smiles as he wanted. As +to the view she took of affairs, she seemed for a long time to be on the +whole very well satisfied with life and its gifts. But when at last its +troubles began to overtake her, she did not approve of them at all. +The first thing she objected to was being weaned, which she evidently +considered a very cruel and unnecessary experience. But her father said +it must be, and her mother, believing him to know best, carried out his +decree. Little Agnes endured it tolerably well in the daytime, but in +the night protested lustily--was indeed so outrageously indignant, that +one evening the following conversation took place at the tea-table, +where Willie sat and heard it. + +"Really, my dear," said Mrs Macmichael, "I cannot have your rest +disturbed in this way another night. You must go to Willie's room, and +let me manage the little squalling thing myself." + +"Why shouldn't I take my share of the trouble?" objected her husband. + +"Because you may be called up any moment, and have no more sleep till +next night; and it is not fair that what sleep your work does let you +have should be so unnecessarily broken. It's not as if I couldn't manage +without you." + +"But Willie's bed is not big enough for both of us," he objected. + +"Then Willie can come and sleep with me." + +"But Willie wants his sleep as much as I do mine." + +"There's no fear of him: he would sleep though all the babies in Priory +Leas were crying in the room." + +"Would I really?" thought Willie, feeling rather ashamed of himself. + +"But who will get up and warm the milk-and-water for you?" pursued his +father. + +"Oh! I can manage that quite well." + +"Couldn't I do that, mamma?" said Willie, very humbly, for he thought of +what his mother had said about his sleeping powers. + +"No, my pet," she answered; and he said no more. + +"It seems to me," said his father, "a very clumsy necessity. I have been +thinking over it. To keep a fire in all night only to warm such a tiny +drop of water as she wants, I must say, seems like using a steam-engine +to sweep up the crumbs. If you would just get a stone bottle, fill +it with boiling water, wrap a piece of flannel about it, and lay it +anywhere in the bed, it would be quite hot enough even in the morning to +make the milk as warm as she ought to have it." + +"If you will go to Willie's room, and let Willie come and sleep with me, +I will try it," she said. + +Mr Macmichael consented; and straightway Willie was filled with silent +delight at the thought of sleeping with his mother and the baby. Nor +because of that only; for he resolved within himself that he would try +to get a share in the business of the night: why should his mother have +too little sleep rather than himself? They might at least divide the too +little between them! So he went to bed early, full of the thought of +waking up as soon as Agnes should begin to cry, and finding out what +he could do. Already he had begun to be useful in the daytime, and had +twice put her to sleep when both his mother and Tibby had failed. And +although he quite understood that in all probability he would not have +succeeded if they hadn't tried first, yet it had been some relief to +them, and they had confessed it. + +But when he woke, there lay his mother and his sister both sound asleep; +the sun was shining through the blind; he heard Tibby about the house; +and, in short, it was time to get up. + +At breakfast, his father said to him-- + +"Well, Willie, how did Agnes behave herself last night?" + +"So well!" answered Willie; "she never cried once." + +"O Willie!" said his mother, laughing, "she screamed for a whole hour, +and was so hungry after it that she emptied her bottle without stopping +once. You were sound asleep all the time, and never stirred." + +Willie was so much ashamed of himself, although he wasn't in the least +to blame, that he could hardly keep from crying. He did not say another +word, except when he was spoken to, all through breakfast, and his +father and mother were puzzled to think what could be the matter with +him: He went about the greater part of the morning moodily thinking; +then for advice betook himself to Mrs Wilson, who gave him her full +attention, and suggested several things, none of which, however, seemed +to him likely to succeed. + +"If I could but go to bed after mamma was asleep," he said, "I could tie +a string to my hair, and then slip a loop at the other end over mamma's +wrist, so that when she sat up to attend to Agnes, she would pull my +hair and wake me. Wouldn't she wonder what it was when she felt it +pulling _her_?" + +He had to go home without any help from Mrs Wilson. All the way he kept +thinking with himself something after this fashion-- + +"Mamma won't wake me, and Agnes can't; and the worst of it is that +everybody else will be just as fast asleep as I shall be. Let me +see--who _is_ there that's awake all night? There's the cat: I think +she is, but then she wouldn't know when to wake me, and even if I could +teach her to wake me the moment Agnes cried, I don't think she would +be a nice one to do it; for if I didn't come awake with a pat of her +velvety pin-cushions, she might turn out the points of the pins in them, +and scratch me awake. There's the clock; it's always awake; but it can't +tell you the time till you go and ask it. I think it might be made to +wind up a string that should pull me when the right time came; but I +don't think I could teach it. And when it came to the pull, the pull +might stop the clock, and what would papa say then? They tell me the +owls are up all night, but they're no good, I'm certain. I don't see +what I _am_ to do. I wonder if God would wake me if I were to ask Him?" + +I don't know whether Willie did or did not ask God to wake him. I did +not inquire, for what goes on of that kind, it is better not to talk +much about. What I do know is, that he fell asleep with his head and +heart full of desire to wake and help his mother; and that, in the +middle of the night, he did wake up suddenly, and there was little Agnes +screaming with all her might. He sat up in bed instantly. + +"What's the matter, Willie?" said his mother. "Lie down and go to +sleep." + +"Baby's crying," said Willie. + +"Never you mind. I'll manage her." + +"Do you know, mamma, I think I was waked up just in time to help you. +I'll take her from you, and perhaps she will take her drink from me." + +"Nonsense, Willie. Lie down, my pet." + +"But I've been thinking about it, mamma. Do you remember, yesterday, +Agnes would not take her bottle from you, and screamed and screamed; but +when Tibby took her, she gave in and drank it all? Perhaps she would do +the same with me." + + +[Illustration: "WILLIE SAT DOWN WITH THE BABY ON HIS KNEES, AND SHE +STOPPED CRYING."] + + +As he spoke he slipped out of bed, and held out his arms to take the +baby. The light was already coming in, just a little, through the blind, +for it was summer. He heard a cow lowing in the fields at the back of +the house, and he wondered whether her baby had woke her. The next +moment he had little Agnes in his arms, for his mother thought he might +as well try, seeing he was awake. + +"Do take care and don't let her fall, Willie." + +"That I will, mamma. I've got her tight. Now give me the bottle, +please." + +"I haven't got it ready yet; for you woke the minute she began to cry." + +So Willie walked about the room with Agnes till his mother had got her +bottle filled with nice warm milk-and-water and just a little sugar. +When she gave it to him, he sat down with the baby on his knees, and, +to his great delight, and the satisfaction of his mother as well, she +stopped crying, and began to drink the milk-and-water. + +"Why, you're a born nurse, Willie!" said his mother. But the moment the +baby heard her mother's voice, she forsook the bottle, and began to +scream, wanting to go to her. + +"O mamma! you mustn't speak, please; for of course she likes you better +than the bottle; and when you speak that reminds her of you. It was just +the same with Tibby yesterday. Or if you must speak, speak with some +other sound, and not in your own soft, sweet way." + +A few moments after, Willie was so startled by a gruff voice in the room +that he nearly dropped the bottle; but it was only his mother following +his directions. The plan was quite successful, for the baby had not +a suspicion that the voice was her mother's, paid no heed to it, and +attended only to her bottle. + +Mr Macmichael, who had been in the country, was creeping up the stair to +his room, fearful of disturbing his wife, when what should he hear but +a man's voice as he supposed! and what should he think but that robbers +had broken in! Of course he went to his wife's room first. There he +heard the voice plainly enough through the door, but when he opened it +he could see no one except Willie feeding the baby on an ottoman at the +foot of the bed. When his wife had explained what and why it was, +they both laughed heartily over Willie's suggestion for leaving the +imagination of little Agnes in repose; and henceforth he was installed +as night-nurse, so long as the process of weaning should last; and very +proud of his promotion he was. He slept as sound as ever, for he had no +anxiety about waking; his mother always woke him the instant Agnes began +to cry. + +"Willie!" she would say, "Willie! here's your baby wanting you." + +And up Willie would start, sometimes before he was able to open his +eyes, for little boys' eyelids are occasionally obstinate. And once he +jumped out of bed crying, "Where is she, mamma? I've lost her!" for he +had been dreaming about her. + +You may be sure his mamma let him have a long sleep in the morning +always, to make up for being disturbed in the night. + +Agnes throve well, notwithstanding the weaning. She soon got reconciled +to the bottle, and then Willie slept in peace. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +HE GOES TO LEARN A TRADE. + +Time passed, and Willie grew. Have my readers ever thought what is +meant by growing? It is far from meaning only that you get bigger and +stronger. It means that you become able both to understand and to wonder +at more of the things about you. There are people who the more they +understand, wonder the less; but such are not growing straight; they are +growing crooked. There are two ways of growing. You may be growing up, +or you may be growing down; and if you are doing both at once, then +you are growing crooked. There are people who are growing up in +understanding, but down in goodness. It is a beautiful fact, however, +that you can't grow up in goodness and down in understanding; while the +great probability is, that, if you are not growing better, you will by +and by begin to grow stupid. Those who are growing the right way, the +more they understand, the more they wonder; and the more they learn to +do, the more they want to do. Willie was a boy of this kind. I don't +care to write about boys and girls, or men and women, who are not +growing the right way. They are not interesting enough to write about. + +But he was not the only one to grow: Agnes grew as well; and the more +Willie grew capable of helping her, the more he found Agnes required of +him. It was a long time, however, before he knew how much he was obliged +to Agnes for requiring so much of him. + +She grew and grew until she was capable of a doll; when of course a doll +was given her--not a new one just bought, but a most respectable old +doll, a big one that had been her mother's when she was a little girl, +and which she had been wise enough to put in her trunk before she left +her mother's house to go home with Mr Macmichael. She made some new +clothes for it now, and Tibby made a cloak and bonnet for her to wear +when she went out of doors. But it struck Willie that her shoes, which +were only of cloth, were very unfit for walking, and he thought that in +a doctor's family it was something quite amazing that, while head and +shoulders were properly looked after, the feet should remain utterly +neglected. It was clear that must be his part in the affair; it could +not be anybody else's, for in that case some one else would have +attended to it. He must see about it. + +I think I have said before that Willie knew almost everybody in the +village, and I might have added that everybody without exception knew +him. He was a favourite--first of all, because his father was much loved +and trusted; next, because his mother spoke as kindly to her husband's +poor patients as to the richer ones; and last, because he himself spoke +to everybody with proper respect. Some of the people, however, he knew +of course better than others. Of these Mrs Wilson we know was one. But I +believe I also mentioned that in the house in which she lived there were +other poor people. In the room opposite to hers, on the ground-floor, +lived and worked a shoemaker--a man who had neither wife nor child, nor, +so far as people knew, any near relative at all. He was far from being +in good health, and although he worked from morning to night, had a +constant pain in his back, which was rather crooked, having indeed a +little hump on it. If his temper was not always of the best, I wonder +what cleverest of watches or steam-engines would go as well as he did +with such a twist in its back? To see him seated on his low stool--in +which, by the way, as if it had not been low enough, he sat in a +leather-covered hole, perhaps for the sake of the softness and spring of +the leather--with his head and body bent forward over his lapstone +or his last, and his right hand with the quick broad-headed hammer +hammering up and down on a piece of sole-leather; or with both his hands +now meeting as if for a little friendly chat about something small, +and then suddenly starting asunder as if in astonished anger, with a +portentous hiss, you might have taken him for an automaton moved by +springs, and imitating human actions in a very wonderful manner--so +regular and machine-like were his motions, and so little did he seem to +think about what he was at. A little passing attention, a hint now and +then from his head, was sufficient to keep his hands right, for they +were so used to their work, and had been so well taught by his head, +that they could pretty nearly have made a pair of shoes of themselves; +so that the shoemaking trade is one that admits of a great deal of +thought going on in the head that hangs over the work, like a sun over +the earth ripening its harvest. Shoemakers have distinguished themselves +both in poetry and in prose; and if Hector Macallaster had done so in +neither, he could yet think, and that is what some people who write both +poetry and prose cannot do. But it is of infinitely more importance to +be able to think well than merely to write ever so well; and, besides, +to think well is what everybody ought to be or to become able to do. + +Hector had odd ways of looking at things, but I need not say more about +that, for it will soon be plain enough. Ever since the illness from +which he had risen with a weak spine, and ever-working brain, and a +quiet heart, he had shown himself not merely a good sort of man, for +such he had always been, but a religious man; not by saying much, for he +was modest even to shyness with grown people, but by the solemnity of +his look when a great word was spoken, by his unblamable behaviour, and +by the readiness with which he would lend or give of his small earnings +to his poor neighbours. The only thing of which anybody could complain +was his temper; but it showed itself only occasionally, and almost +everybody made excuse for it on the ground of his bodily ailments. He +gave it no quarter himself, however. He said once to the clergyman, +to whom he had been lamenting the trouble he had with it, and who had +sought to comfort him by saying that it was caused by the weakness of +his health-- + +"No, sir--excuse me; nobody knows how much I am indebted to my crooked +back. If it weren't for that I might have a bad temper and never know +it. But that drives it out of its hole, and when I see the ugly head of +it I know it's there, and try once more to starve it to death. But oh +dear! it's such a creature to burrow! When I think I've built it in all +round, out comes its head again at a place where I never looked to see +it, and it's all to do over again!" + +You will understand by this already that the shoemaker thought after his +own fashion, which is the way everybody who can think does think. What +he thought about his trade and some other things we shall see by and by. + +When Willie entered his room, he greeted him with a very friendly nod; +for not only was he fond of children, but he had a special favour for +Willie, chiefly because he considered himself greatly indebted to him +for something he had said to Mrs Wilson, and which had given him a good +deal to think about. For Mrs Wilson often had a chat with Hector, and +then she would not unfrequently talk about Willie, of whose friendship +she was proud. She had told him of the strange question he had put to +her as to whether God worked, and the shoemaker, thinking over it, had +come to the same conclusion as Willie's father, and it had been a great +comfort and help to him. + +"What can I do for you to-day, Willie?" he said; for in that part of the +country they do not say _Master_ and _Miss_. "You look," he added, "if +you wanted something." + +"I want you to teach me, please," answered Willie. + +"To teach you what?" asked Hector. + +"To make shoes, please," answered Willie. + +"Ah! but do you think that would be prudent of me? Don't you see, if I +were to teach you to make shoes, people would be coming to you to make +their shoes for them, and what would become of me then?" + +"But I only want to make shoes for Aggy's doll. She oughtn't to go +without shoes in this weather, you know." + +"Certainly not. Well, if you will bring me the doll I will take her +measure and make her a pair." + +"But I don't think papa could afford to pay for shoes for a doll as well +as for all of us. You see, though it would be better, it's not necessary +that a doll should have strong shoes. She has shoes good enough for +indoors, and she needn't walk in the wet. Don't you think so yourself, +Hector?" + +"But," returned Hector, "I shall be happy to make Agnes a present of a +pair of shoes for her doll. I shouldn't think of charging your papa for +that. He is far too good a man to be made to pay for everything." + +"But," objected Willie, "to let you make them for nothing would be as +bad as to make papa pay for them when they are not necessary. Please, +you must let me make them for Aggy. Besides, she's not old enough yet +even to say thank you for them." + +"Then she won't be old enough to say thank you to you either," said +Hector, who, all this time, had been losing no moment from his work, but +was stitching away, with a bore, and a twiddle, and a hiss, at the sole +of a huge boot. + +"Ah! but you see, she's my own--so it doesn't matter!" + +If I were writing a big book, instead of a little one, I should be +tempted to say not only that this set Hector a thinking, but what it +made him think as well. Instead of replying, however, he laid down his +boot, rose, and first taking from a shelf a whole skin of calf-leather, +and next a low chair from a corner of the room, he set the latter near +his own seat opposite the window. + +"Sit down there, then, Willie," he said; adding, as he handed him the +calf-skin, "There's your leather, and my tools are at your service. Make +your shoes, and welcome. I shall be glad of your company." + +Having thus spoken, he sat down again, caught up his boot hurriedly, and +began stitching away as if for bare life. + +Willie took the calf-skin on his lap, somewhat bewildered. If he had +been asked to cut out a pair of seven-leagued boots for the ogre, there +would have seemed to his eyes enough of leather for them in that one +skin. But how ever was he to find two pieces small enough for doll's +shoes in such an ocean of leather? He began to turn it round and round, +looking at it all along the edge, while Hector was casting sidelong +glances at him in the midst of his busyness, with a curiosity on his +face which his desire to conceal it caused to look grim instead of +amused. + +Willie, although he had never yet considered how shoes are made, had +seen at once that nothing could be done until he had got the command of +a manageable bit of leather; he found too much only a shade better than +too little; and he saw that it wouldn't be wise to cut a piece out +anywhere, for that might spoil what would serve for a large pair of +shoes or even boots. Therefore he kept turning the skin round until he +came to a small projecting piece. This he contemplated for some time, +trying to recall the size of Dolly's feet, and to make up his mind +whether it would not be large enough for one or even for both shoes. A +smile passed over Hector's face--a smile of satisfaction. + +"That's it!" he said at last. "I think you'll do. That's the first +thing--to consider your stuff, and see how much you can make of it. +Waste is a thing that no good shoemaker ever yet could endure. It's bad +in itself, and so unworkmanlike! Yes, I think that corner will do. Shall +I cut it off for you?" + +"No, thank you--not yet, please. I think I must go and look at her feet, +for I can't recollect _quite_ how big they are. I'll just run home and +look." + +"Do you think you will be able to carry the exact size in your head, and +bring it back with you?" + +"Yes, I think I shall." + +"I don't. I never could trust myself so far as that, nearly. You might +be pretty nigh it one way and all wrong another, for you have to +consider length and breadth and roundabout. I will tell you the best way +for _you_ to do. Set the doll standing on a bit of paper, and draw a +pencil all round her foot with the point close to it on the paper. Both +feet will be better, for it would be a mistake to suppose they must be +of the same size. That will give you the size of the sole. Then take +a strip of paper and see how long a piece it takes to go round the +thickest part of the foot, and cut it off to that length. That will be +sufficient measurement for a doll's shoe, for even if it should not fit +exactly, she won't mind either being pinched a little or having to walk +a little loose." + +Willie got up at once to go and do as Hector had told him; but Hector +was not willing to part with him so soon, for it was not often he had +anybody to talk to while he went on with his work. Therefore he said-- + +"But don't you think, Willie, before you set about it, you had better +see how I do? It would be a pity to spend your labour in finding out for +yourself what shoemakers have known for hundreds of years, and which you +could learn so easily by letting me show you." + +"Thank you," said Willie, sitting down again. + +"I should like that very much. I will sit and look at you. I know what +you are doing. You are fastening on the sole of a boot." + +"Yes. Do you see how it's done?" + +"I'm not sure. I don't see yet quite. Of course I see you are sewing the +one to the other. I've often wondered how you could manage with small +shoes like mine to get in your hand to pull the needle through; but I +see you don't use a needle, and I see that you are sewing it all on the +outside of the boot, and don't put your hand inside at all. I can't get +to understand it." + +"You will in a minute. You see how, all round the edge of the upper, as +we call it, I have sewn on a strong narrow strip, so that one edge of +the strip sticks out all round, while the other is inside. To the edge +that sticks out I sew on the sole, drawing my threads so tight that when +I pare the edges off smooth, it will look like one piece, and puzzle +anybody who did not know how it was done." + +"I think I understand. But how do you get your thread so sharp and stiff +as to go through the holes you make? I find it hard enough sometimes to +get a thread through the eye of a needle; for though the thread is ever +so much smaller than yours, I have to sharpen and sharpen it often +before I can get it through. But yours, though it is so thick, keeps so +sharp that it goes through the holes at once--two threads at once--one +from each side!" + +"Ah! but I don't sharpen my thread; I put a point upon it." + +"Doesn't that mean the same thing?" + +"Well, it may generally; but _I_ don't mean the same thing by it. Look +here." + +"I see!" cried Willie; "there is a long bit of something else, not +thread, upon it. What is it? It looks like a hair, only thicker, and it +is so sharp at the point!" + +"Can't you guess?" + +"No; I can't." + +"Then I will tell you. It is a bristle out of a hog's back. I don't know +what a shoemaker would do without them. Look, here's a little bunch of +them." + +"That's a very clever use to put them to," said Willie. + +"Do you go and pluck them out of the pigs?" + +"No; we buy them at the shop. We want a good many, for they wear out. +They get too soft, and though they don't break right off, they double up +in places, so that they won't go through." + +"How do you fasten them to the thread?" + +"Look here," said Hector. + +He took several strands of thread together, and drew them through and +through a piece of cobbler's wax, then took a bristle and put it in +at the end cunningly, in a way Willie couldn't quite follow; and then +rolled and rolled threads and all over and over between his hand and his +leather apron, till it seemed like a single dark-coloured cord. + +"There, you see, is my needle and thread all in one." + +"And what is the good of rubbing it so much with the cobbler's wax?" + +"There are several good reasons for doing that. In the first place, it +makes all the threads into one by sticking them together. Next it would +be worn out before I had drawn it many times through but for the wax, +which keeps the rubbing from wearing it. The wax also protects it +afterwards, and keeps the wet from rotting it. The waxed thread fills +the hole better too, and what is of as much consequence as anything, it +sticks so that the last stitch doesn't slacken before the next comes, +but holds so tight that, although the leather is very springy, it cannot +make it slip. The two pieces are thus got so close together that they +are like one piece, as you will see when I pare the joined edges." + +I should tire my reader if I were to recount all the professional talk +that followed; for although Willie found it most interesting, and began +to feel as if he should soon be able to make a shoe himself, it is a +very different thing merely to read about it--the man's voice not in +your ears, and the work not going on before your eyes. But the shoemaker +cared for other things besides shoemaking, and after a while he happened +to make a remark which led to the following question from Willie:-- + +"Do you understand astronomy, Hector?" + +"No. It's not my business, you see, Willie." + +"But you've just been telling me so much about the moon, and the way +she keeps turning her face always to us--in the politest manner, as you +said!" + +"I got it all out of Mr Dick's book. I don't understand it. I don't know +why she does so. I know a few things that are not my business, just as +you know a little about shoemaking, that not being your business; but I +don't understand them for all that." + +"Whose business is astronomy then?" + +"Well," answered Hector, a little puzzled, "I don't see how it can well +be anybody's business but God's, for I'm sure no one else can lay a hand +to it." + +"And what's your business, Hector?" asked Willie, in a half-absent mood. + +Some readers may perhaps think this a stupid question, and perhaps so +it was; but Willie was not therefore stupid. People sometimes _appear_ +stupid because they have more things to think about than they can well +manage; while those who think only about one or two things may, on the +contrary, _appear_ clever when just those one or two things happen to be +talked about. + +"What is my business, Willie? Why, to keep people out of the dirt, of +course." + +"How?" asked Willie again. + +"By making and mending their shoes. Mr Dick, now, when he goes out to +look at the stars through his telescope, might get his death of cold if +his shoemaker did not know his business. Of the general business, it's a +part God keeps to Himself to see that the stars go all right, and that +the sun rises and sets at the proper times. For the time's not the same +any two mornings running, you see, and he might make a mistake if he +wasn't looked after, and that would be serious. But I told you I don't +understand about astronomy, because it's not my business. I'm set to +keep folk's feet off the cold and wet earth, and stones and broken +glass; for however much a man may be an astronomer and look up at the +sky, he must touch the earth with some part of him, and generally does +so with his feet." + +"And God sets you to do it, Hector?" + +"Yes. It's the way He looks after people's feet. He's got to look after +everything, you know, or everything would go wrong. So He gives me the +leather and the tools and the hands--and I must say the head, for it +wants no little head to make a _good_ shoe to measure--and it is as if +He said to me--'There! you make shoes, while I keep the stars right.' +Isn't it a fine thing to have a hand in the general business?" + +And Hector looked up with shining eyes in the face of the little boy, +while he pulled at his rosin-ends as if he would make the boot strong +enough to keep out evil spirits. + +"I think it's a fine thing to have to make nice new shoes," said Willie; +"but I don't think I should like to mend them when they are soppy and +muddy and out of shape." + +"If you would take your share in the general business, you mustn't be +particular. It won't do to be above your business, as they say: for my +part, I would say _below_ your business. There's those boots in the +corner now. They belong to your papa. And they come next. Don't you +think it's an honour to keep the feet of such a good man dry and warm as +he goes about from morning to night comforting people? Don't you think +it's an honour to mend boots for _him_, even if they should be dirty?" + +"Oh, yes--for _papa_!" said Willie, as if his papa must be an exception +to any rule. + +"Well," resumed Hector, "look at these great lace-boots. I shall have to +fill the soles of them full of hobnails presently. They belong to the +best ploughman in the parish--John Turnbull. Don't you think it's an +honour to mend boots for a man who makes the best bed for the corn to +die in?" + +"I thought it was to grow in," said Willie. + +"All the same," returned Hector. "When it dies it grows--and not till +then, as you will read in the New Testament. Isn't it an honour, I say, +to mend boots for John Turnbull?" + +"Oh, yes--for John Turnbull! I know John," said Willie, as if it made +any difference to his merit whether Willie knew him or not! + +"And there," Hector went on, "lies a pair of slippers that want +patching. They belong to William Webster, the weaver, round the corner. +They're very much down at heel too. But isn't it an honour to patch or +set up slippers for a man who keeps his neighbours in fine linen all the +days of their lives?" + +"Yes, yes. I know William. It must be nice to do anything for William +Webster." + +"Suppose you didn't know him, would that make any difference?" + +"No," said Willie, after thinking a little. "Other people would know him +if I didn't." + +"Yes, and if nobody knew him, God would know him; and anybody God has +thought worth making, it's an honour to do anything for. Believe me, +Willie, to have to keep people's feet dry and warm is a very important +appointment." + +"Your own shoes aren't very good, Hector," said Willie, who had been +casting glances from time to time at his companion's feet, which were +shod in a manner that, to say the least of it, would have prejudiced no +one in favour of his handiwork. "Isn't it an honour to make shoes for +yourself Hector?" + +"There can't be much honour in doing anything for yourself," replied +Hector, "so far as I can see. I confess my shoes are hardly decent, but +then I can make myself a pair at any time; and indeed I've been thinking +I would for the last three months, as soon as a slack time came; but +I've been far too busy as yet, and, as I don't go out much till after +it's dusk, nobody sees them." + +"But if you should get your feet wet, and catch cold?" + +"Ah! that might be the death of me!" said Hector. "I really must make +myself a pair. Well now--let me see--as soon as I have mended those two +pairs--I can do them all to-morrow--I will begin. And I'll tell you +what," he added, after a thoughtful pause, "if you'll come to me the day +after to-morrow, I will take that skin, and cut out a pair of shoes for +myself, and you shall see how I do it, and everything about the making +of them;--yes, you shall do some part of them yourself, and that shall +be your first lesson in shoemaking." + +"But Dolly's shoes!" suggested Willie. + +"Dolly can wait a bit. She won't take _her_ death of cold from wet feet. +And let me tell you it is harder to make a small pair well than a large +pair. You will do Dolly's ever so much better after you know how to make +a pair for me." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +HOW WILLIE LEARNED TO READ BEFORE HE KNEW HIS LETTERS. + +The next day his thoughts, having nothing particular to engage them, +kept brooding over two things. These two things came together all at +once, and a resolution was the consequence. I shall soon explain what I +mean. + +The one thing was, that Hector had shown considerable surprise when +he found that Willie could not read. Now Willie was not in the least +ashamed that he could not read: why should he be? It was nowhere written +in the catechism he had learnt that it was his duty to be able to read; +and if the catechism had merely forgotten to mention it, his father and +mother would have told him. Neither was it a duty he ought to have +known of himself--for then he would have known it. So why should he be +ashamed? + +People are often ashamed of what they need not be ashamed of. Again, +they are often not at all ashamed of what they ought to be ashamed of, +and will turn up their faces to the sun when they ought to hide them in +the dust. If, for instance, Willie had ever put on a sulky face when his +mother asked him to hold the baby for her, that would have been a thing +for shame of which the skin of his face might well try to burn itself +off; but not to be able to read before he had even been made to think +about it, was not at all a thing to be ashamed of: it would have been +more of a shame to be ashamed. Now that it had been put into his head, +however, to think what a good thing reading was, all this would apply no +longer. It was a very different thing now. + +The other subject which occupied his thoughts was this: + +Everybody was so kind to him--so ready to do things for him--and, what +was of far more consequence, to teach him to do them himself; while he, +so far as he could think, did nothing for anybody! That could not be +right; it _could_ not be--for it was not reasonable. Not to mention his +father and mother, there was Mrs Wilson, who had taught him to knit, and +even given him a few lessons in spinning, though that had not come to +much; and here was Hector Macallaster going to teach him to make shoes; +and not one thing that he could think of was he capable of doing in +return! This must be looked into, for things could not be allowed to go +on like that. All at once it struck him that Hector had said, with some +regret in his voice, that though he had plenty of time to think, he had +very little time to read; also that although he could see well enough by +candlelight to work at his trade, he could not see well enough to read. +What a fine thing it would be to learn to read to Hector! It would be +such fun to surprise him too, by all at once reading him something! + +The sun was not at his full height when Willie received this +illumination. Before the sun went down he knew and could read at sight +at least a dozen words. + +For the moment he saw that he ought to learn to read, he ran to his +mother, and asked her to teach him. She was delighted, for she had begun +to be a little doubtful whether his father's plan of leaving him alone +till he wanted to learn was the right one. But at that precise moment +she was too busy with something that must be done for his father to +lay it down and begin teaching him his letters. Willie was so eager to +learn, however, that he could not rest without doing something towards +it. He bethought himself a little--then ran and got Dr Watts's hymns for +children. He knew "How doth the little busy bee" so well as to be able +to repeat it without a mistake, for his mother had taught it him, and he +had understood it. You see, he was not like a child of five, taught to +repeat by rote lines which could give him no notions but mistaken ones. +Besides, he had a good knowledge of words, and could use them well in +talk, although he could not read; and it is a great thing if a child can +talk well before he begins to learn to read. + +He opened the little book at the Busy Bee, and knowing already enough to +be able to divide the words the one from the other, he said to himself-- + +"The first word must be _How_. There it is, with a gap between it +and the next word. I will look and see if I can find another _How_ +anywhere." + +He looked a long time before he found one; for the capital H was in the +way. Of course there were a good many _how's_, but not many with a big +H, and he didn't know that the little _h_ was just as good for the mere +word. Then he looked for _doth_, and he found several _doth's_. +Of _the's_ he found as great a swarm as if they had been the bees +themselves with which the little song was concerned. _Busy_ was scarce; +I am not sure whether he found it at all; but he looked at it until he +was pretty sure he should know it again when he saw it. After he had +gone over in this way every word of the first verse, he tried himself, +by putting his finger at random here and there upon it, and seeing +whether he could tell the word it happened to touch. Sometimes he could, +and sometimes he couldn't. However, as I said, before the day was over, +he knew at least a dozen words perfectly well at sight. + +Nor let any one think this was other than a great step in the direction +of reading. It would be easy for Willie afterwards to break up these +words into letters. + +It took him two days more--for during part of each he was learning to +make shoes--to learn to know anywhere every word he had found in that +hymn. + +Next he took a hymn he had not learned, and applied to his mother when +he came to a word he did not know, which was very often. As soon as +she told him one, he hunted about until he found another and another +specimen of the same, and so went on until he had fixed it quite in his +mind. + +At length he began to compare words that were like each other, and +by discovering wherein they looked the same, and wherein they looked +different, he learned something of the sound of the letters. For +instance, in comparing _the_ and _these_, although the one sound of the +two letters, _t_ and _h_, puzzled him, and likewise the silent _e_, he +conjectured that the _s_ must stand for the hissing sound; and when he +looked at other words which had that sound, and perceived an _s_ in +every one of them, then he was sure of it. His mother had no idea how +fast he was learning; and when about a fortnight after he had begun, she +was able to take him in hand, she found, to her astonishment, that he +could read a great many words, but that, when she wished him to spell +one, he had not the least notion what she meant. + +"Isn't that a _b_?" she said, wishing to help him to find out a certain +word for himself. + +"I don't know," answered Willie. "It's not the busy bee," he added, +laughing;--"I should know him. It must be the lazy one, I suppose." + +"Don't you know your letters?" asked his mother. + +"No, mamma. Which are they? Are the rest yours and papa's?" + +"Oh, you silly dear!" she said. + +"Of course I am!" he returned;--"very silly! How could any of them be +mine before I know the names of them! When I know them all, then they'll +all be mine, I suppose--and everybody else's who knows them.--So that's +Mr B--is it?" + +"Yes. And that's C," said his mother. + +"I'm glad to see you, Mr C," said Willie, merrily, nodding to the +letter. "We shall know each other when we meet again.--I suppose this is +D, mamma. How d'e do, Mr D? And what's this one with its mouth open, and +half its tongue cut off?" + +His mother told him it was E. + +"Then this one, with no foot to stand on, is Fe, I suppose." + +His mother laughed; but whoever gave it the name it has, would have done +better to call it Fe, as Willie did. It would be much better also, in +teaching children, at least, to call H, He, and W, We, and Y, Ye, and Z, +Ze, as Willie called them. But it was easy enough for him to learn their +names after he knew so much of what they could _do_. + +What gave him a considerable advantage was, that he had begun with +verse, and not dry syllables and stupid sentences. The music of the +verse repaid him at once for the trouble of making it out--even before +he got at the meaning, while the necessity of making each line go right, +and the rhymes too, helped him occasionally to the pronunciation of a +word. + +The farther he got on, the faster he got on; and before six weeks were +over, he could read anything he was able to understand pretty well at +sight. + +By this time, also, he understood all the particulars as to how a shoe +is made, and had indeed done a few stitches himself, a good deal of +hammering both of leather and of hob-nails, and a little patching, at +which last the smallness of his hands was an advantage. + +At length, one day, he said to the shoemaker-- + +"Shall I read a little poem to you, Hector?" + +"You told me you couldn't read, Willie." + +"I can now though." + +"Do then," said Hector. + +Looking for but a small result in such a short time, he was considerably +astonished to find how well the boy could read; for he not merely gave +the words correctly, but the sentences, which is far more difficult; +that is, he read so that Hector could understand what the writer meant. +It is a great thing to read well. Few can. Whoever reads aloud and does +not read well, is a sort of deceiver; for he pretends to introduce one +person to another, while he misrepresents him. + +In after life, Willie continued to pay a good deal of attention not +merely to reading for its own sake, but to reading for the sake of other +people, that is, to reading aloud. As often as he came, in the course of +his own reading, to any verse that he liked very much, he always read +it aloud in order to teach himself how it ought to be read; doing his +best--first, to make it sound true, that is, to read it according to the +sense; next, to make it sound beautiful, that is, to read it according +to the measure of the verse and the melody of the words. + +He now read a great deal to Hector. There came to be a certain time +every day at which Willie Macmichael was joyfully expected by the +shoemaker--to read to him for an hour and a half--beyond which time his +father did not wish the reading to extend. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +SOME THINGS THAT CAME OF WILLIE'S GOING TO SCHOOL. + +When his father found that he had learned to read, then he judged it +good for him to go to school. Willie was very much pleased. His mother +said she would make him a bag to carry his books in; but Willie said +there was no occasion to trouble herself; for, if she would give him the +stuff, he would make it. So she got him a nice bit of green baize, and +in the afternoon he made his bag--no gobble-stitch work, but good, +honest back-stitching, except the string-case, which was only run, that +it might draw easier and tighter. He passed the string through with a +bodkin, fixed it in the middle, tied the two ends, and carried the bag +to his mother, who pronounced it nearly as well made as if she had done +it herself. + +At school he found it more and more plain what a good thing it is that +we haven't to find out every thing for ourselves from the beginning; +that people gather into books what they and all who went before them +have learned, so that we come into their property, as it were; and, +after being taught of them, have only to begin our discoveries from +where they leave off. In geography, for instance, what a number of +voyages and journeys have had to be made, and books to record them +written; then what a number of these books to be read, and the facts +gathered out of them, before a single map could be drawn, not to say a +geography book printed! Whereas now he could learn a multitude of things +about the various countries, their peoples and animals and plants, their +mountains and rivers and lakes and cities, without having set his foot +beyond the parish in which he was born. And so with everything else +after its kind. But it is more of what Willie learned to do than what he +learned to know that I have to treat. + +When he went to school, his father made him a present of a pocket-knife. +He had had one before, but not a very good one; and this, having three +blades, all very sharp, he found a wonderful treasure of recourse. His +father also bought him a nice new slate. + +Now there was another handy boy at school, a couple of years older than +Willie, whose father was a carpenter. He had cut on the frame of +his slate, not his initials only, but his whole name and +address,--_Alexander Spelman, Priory Leas_. Willie thought how nice it +would be with his new knife also to cut his name on his slate; only +he would rather make some difference in the way of doing it. What if, +instead of sinking the letters in the frame, he made them stand up from +the frame by cutting it away to some depth all round them. There was not +much originality in this, for it was only reversing what Spelman had +done; but it was more difficult, and would, he thought, be prettier. +Then what was he thus to carve? One would say, "Why, _William +Macmichael_, of course, and, if he liked, _Priory Leas_" But Willie was +a peculiar little fellow, and began to reason with himself whether he +had any right to put his own name on the slate. "My father did not give +me the slate," he said, "to be my very own. He gave me the knife like +that, but not the slate. When I am grown up, it will belong to Agnes. +What shall I put on it? What's mine's papa's, and what's papa's is his +own," argued Willie.--"_I_ know!" he said to himself at last. + +The boys couldn't imagine what he meant to do when they saw him draw +first a D and then an O on the frame. But when they saw a C and a T +follow, they thought what a conceited little prig Willie was! + +"Do you think you're a doctor because your father is, you little ape?" +they said. + +"No, no," answered Willie, laughing heartily, but thinking, as he went +on with his work, that he might be one some day. + +When the drawing of the letters was finished, there stood, all round the +slate, "_Doctor Macmichael's Willie, The Ruins, Priory Leas_." + +Then out came his knife. But it was a long job, for Willie was not one +of those slovenly boys that _scamp_ their work. Such boys are nothing +but soft, pulpy creatures, who, when they grow to be men, will be too +soft for any of the hard work of the world. They will be fit only for +buffers, to keep the working men from breaking their heads against each +other in their eagerness. But the carving was at length finished, +and gave much satisfaction--first to Willie himself, because it was +finished; next, to Alexander Spelman, Priory Leas, because, being a +generous-minded boy, he admired Willie's new and superior work; third, +to Mr and Mrs Macmichael, because they saw in it, not the boy's faculty +merely, but his love to his father as well; for the recognition of a +right over us is one of the sweetest forms love can take. "_I am yours_" +is the best and greatest thing one can say, if to the right person. + +It led to a strong friendship between him and Spelman, and to his going +often to the workshop of the elder Spelman, the carpenter. + +He was a solemn, long-faced, and long-legged man, with reddish hair and +pale complexion, who seldom or ever smiled, and at the bench always +looked as if he were standing on a stool, he stooped so immoderately. A +greater contrast than that between him and the shoemaker could hardly +have been found, except in this, that the carpenter also looked sickly. +He was in perfect health, however, only oppressed with the cares of his +family, and the sickness of his wife, who was a constant invalid, with +more children her husband thought than she could well manage, or he well +provide for. But if he had thought less about it he would have got on +better. He worked hard, but little fancied how many fewer strokes of +his plane he made in an hour just because he was brooding over his +difficulties, and imagining what would be the consequences if this or +that misfortune were to befall him--of which he himself sought and +secured the shadow beforehand, to darken and hinder the labour which +might prevent its arrival. But he was a good man nevertheless, for his +greatest bugbear was debt. If he could only pay off every penny he owed +in the world, and if only his wife were so far better as to enjoy life a +little, he would, he thought, be perfectly happy. His wife, however, was +tolerably happy, notwithstanding her weak health, and certainly enjoyed +life a good deal--far more at least than her husband was able to +believe. + +Mr Macmichael was very kind and attentive to Mrs Spelman; though, as the +carpenter himself said, he hadn't seen the colour of _his_ money for +years. But the Doctor knew that Spelman was a hard-working man, and +would rather have given him a little money than have pressed him for a +penny. He told him one day, when he was lamenting that he couldn't pay +him even _yet_, that he was only too glad to do anything in the least +little bit like what the Saviour did when he was in the world--"a +carpenter like you, Spelman--think of that," added the Doctor. + +So Spelman was as full of gratitude as he could hold. Except Hector +Macallaster, the Doctor was almost his only creditor. Medicine and shoes +were his chief trials: he kept on paying for the latter, but the debt +for the former went on accumulating. + +Hence it came that when Willie began to haunt his shop, though he had +hardly a single smile to give the little fellow, he was more than +pleased;--gave him odds and ends of wood; lent him whatever tools he +wanted except the adze--that he would not let him touch; would drop him +a hint now and then as to the use of them; would any moment stop his own +work to attend to a difficulty the boy found himself in; and, in short, +paid him far more attention than he would have thought required of him +if Willie had been his apprentice. + +From the moment he entered the workshop, Willie could hardly keep his +hands off the tools. The very shape of them, as they lay on the bench or +hung on the wall, seemed to say over and over, "Come, use me; come, use +me." They looked waiting, and hungry for work. They wanted stuff to +shape and fashion into things, and join into other things. They wanted +to make bigger tools than themselves--for ploughing the earth, for +carrying the harvest, or for some one or other of ten thousand services +to be rendered in the house or in the fields. It was impossible for +Willie to see the hollow lip of the gouge, the straight lip of the +chisel, or the same lip fitted with another lip, and so made into the +mouth of the plane, the worm-like auger, or the critical spokeshave, +the hammer which will have it so, or the humble bradawl which is its +pioneer--he could see none of them without longing to send his life into +theirs, and set them doing in the world--for was not this what their +dumb looks seemed ever to implore? At that time young Spelman was busy +making a salt-box for his mother out of the sound bits of an old oak +floor which his father had taken up because it was dry-rotted. It was +hard wood to work, but Willie bore a hand in planing the pieces, and was +initiated into the mysteries of dovetailing and gluing. Before the lid +was put on by the hinges, he carved the initials of the carpenter and +his wife in relief upon it, and many years after they used to show +his work. But the first thing he set about making for himself was a +water-wheel. + +If he had been a seaside boy, his first job would have been a boat; +if he had lived in a flat country, it would very likely have been a +windmill; but the most noticeable thing in that neighbourhood was a mill +for grinding corn driven by a water-wheel. + +When Willie was a tiny boy, he had gone once with Farmer Thomson's man +and a load of corn to see the mill; and the miller had taken him all +over it. He saw the corn go in by the hopper into the trough which was +the real hopper, for it kept constantly hopping to shake the corn down +through a hole in the middle of the upper stone, which went round and +round against the lower, so that between them they ground the corn to +meal, which, in the story beneath, he saw pouring, a solid stream like +an avalanche, from a wooden spout. But the best of it all was the wheel +outside, and the busy rush of the water that made it go. So Willie would +now make a water-wheel. + + +[Illustration: WILLIE IS TAKEN TO SEE A WATER-WHEEL.] + + +The carpenter having given him a short lecture on the different kinds +of water-wheels, he decided on an undershot, and with Sandy's help +proceeded to construct it--with its nave of mahogany, its spokes of +birch, its floats of deal, and its axle of stout iron-wire, which, as +the friction would not be great, was to run in gudgeon-blocks of some +hard wood, well oiled. These blocks were fixed in a frame so devised +that, with the help of a few stones to support it, the wheel might be +set going in any small stream. + +There were many tiny brooks running into the river, and they fixed upon +one of them which issued from the rising ground at the back of the +village: just where it began to run merrily down the hill, they +constructed in its channel a stonebed for the water-wheel--not by any +means for it to go to sleep in! + +It went delightfully, and we shall hear more of it by and by. For the +present, I have only to confess that, after a few days, Willie got tired +of it--and small blame to him, for it was of no earthly use beyond +amusement, and that which can only amuse can never amuse long. I think +the reason children get tired of their toys so soon is just that it is +against human nature to be really interested in what is of no use. If +you say that a beautiful thing is always interesting, I answer, that a +beautiful thing is of the highest use. Is not a diamond that flashes all +its colours into the heart of a poet as useful as the diamond with which +the glazier divides the sheets of glass into panes for our windows? +Anyhow, the reason Willie got tired of his water-wheel was that it went +round and round, and did nothing but go round. It drove no machinery, +ground no grain of corn--"did nothing for _no_body," Willie said, +seeking to be emphatic. So he carried it home, and put it away in a +certain part of the ruins where he kept odds and ends of things that +might some day come in useful. + +Mr Macmichael was so devoted to his profession that he desired nothing +better for Willie than that he too should be a medical man, and he was +more than pleased to find how well Willie's hands were able to carry out +his contrivances; for he judged it impossible for a country doctor to +have too much mechanical faculty. The exercise of such a skill alone +might secure the instant relief of a patient, and be the saving of him. +But, more than this, he believed that nothing tended so much to develop +common sense--the most precious of faculties--as the doing of things +with the hands. Hence he not only encouraged Willie in everything he +undertook, but, considering the five hours of school quite sufficient +for study of that sort, requested the master not to give him any lessons +to do at home. So Willie worked hard during school, and after it had +plenty of time to spend in carpentering, so that he soon came to use +all the common bench-tools with ease, and Spelman was proud of his +apprentice, as he called him--so much so, that the burden of his debt +grew much lighter upon his shoulders. + +But Willie did not forget his older friend, Hector Macallaster. Every +half-holiday he read to him for a couple of hours, chiefly, for some +time, from Dick's Astronomy. Neither of them understood all he read, but +both understood much, and Hector could explain some of the things that +puzzled Willie. And when he found that everything went on in such order, +above and below and all about him, he began to see that even a thing +well done was worth a good deal more when done at the right moment or +within the set time; and that the heavens themselves were like a great +clock, ordering the time for everything. + +Neither did he give up shoemaking, for he often did a little work for +Hector, who had made him a leather apron, and cut him out bits of stout +leather to protect his hands from the thread when he was sewing. For +twelve months, however, his chief employment lay in the workshop of the +carpenter. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +WILLIE DIGS AND FINDS WHAT HE DID NOT EXPECT. + +He had been reading to Hector Sir Walter Scott's "Antiquary," in which +occurs the narration of a digging for treasure in ruins not unlike +these, only grander. It was of little consequence to Willie that no +treasure had been found there: the propriety of digging remained the +same; for in a certain spot he had often fancied that a hollow sound, +when he stamped hard, indicated an empty place underneath. I believe +myself that it came from above, and not from beneath; for although a +portion of the vaulted roof of the little chamber had been broken +in, the greater part of it still remained, and might have caused a +reverberation. The floor was heaped up with fallen stones and rubbish. + +One Wednesday afternoon, instead of going to Hector, whom he had told +not to expect him, he got a pickaxe and spade, and proceeded to dig in +the trodden heap. At the first blow of the pickaxe he came upon large +stones--the job of clearing out which was by no means an easy one--so +far from it, indeed, that, after working for half an hour, and only +getting out two large and half a dozen smaller ones, he resolved to ask +Sandy Spelman to help him. So he left his pickaxe with one point fast +between two stones, and ran to the shop. Sandy was at work, but his +father was quite willing to let him go. Willie told them he was digging +for a treasure, and they all laughed over it; but at the same time +Willie thought with himself--"Who knows? People _have_ found treasures +buried in old places like that. The Antiquary did not--but he is only in +a story, not in a _high story_" (for that was Willie's derivation of the +word _history_). "The place sounds likely enough. Anyhow, where's the +harm in trying?" + +They were both so eager--for Sandy liked the idea of digging in the +ruins much better than the work he was at--that they set off at full +speed the moment they were out of the shop, and never slackened until +they stood panting by the anchored pickaxe, upon which Spelman pounced, +and being stronger than Willie, and more used to hard work, had soon +dislodged both the stones which held it. They were so much larger, +however, than any Willie had come upon before, that they had to roll +them out of the little chamber, instead of lifting them; after which +they got on better, and had soon piled a good heap against the wall +outside. After they had had their tea, they set to work again, and +worked till the twilight grew dark about them--by which time they had +got the heap down to what seemed the original level of the floor. Still +there were stones below, but what with fatigue and darkness, they were +now compelled to stop, and Sandy went home, after promising to come as +early as he could in the morning and call Willie, who was to leave the +end of a string hanging out of the staircase window, whose other end +should pass through the keyhole of his door and be tied to his wrist. He +seemed to have hardly been in bed an hour, when he woke with his arm at +full length, and the pulling going on as if it would pull him out of +bed. He tugged again in reply, and jumped out. + +It was a lovely summer morning--the sun a few yards up the sky; the +grass glittering with dew; the birds singing as if they were singing +their first and would sing their last; the whole air, even in his little +room, filled with a cool odour as of blessed thoughts, and just warm +enough to let him know that the noontide would be hot. And there was +Sandy waiting in the street to help him dig for the treasure! In a +few minutes he had opened the street door and admitted him. They went +straight to the scene of their labour. + +Having got out a few more stones, they began to fancy they heard a +curious sound, which they agreed was more like that of running water +than anything else they could think of. Now, except a well in the +street, just before the cottage, there was no water they knew of much +nearer than the river, and they wondered a good deal. + +At length Sandy's pickaxe got hold of a stone which he could not move, +do what he would. He tried another, and succeeded, but soon began to +suspect that there was some masonry there. Contenting himself therefore +with clearing out only the loose stones, he soon found plainly enough +that he was working in a narrow space, around which was a circular +wall of solid stone and lime. The sound of running water was now clear +enough, and the earth in the hole was very damp. Sandy had now got down +three or four feet below the level. + +"It's an old well," he said. "There can be no doubt of it." + +"Does it smell bad?" asked Willie, peeping down disappointed. + +"Not a bit," answered Sandy. + +"Then it's not stagnant," said Willie. + +"You might have told that by your ears without troubling your nose," +said Sandy. "Didn't you hear it running?" + +"How can it be running when it's buried away down there?" said Willie. + +"How can it make a noise if it isn't running?" retorted Sandy--to which +question Willie attempted no reply. + +It was now serious work to get the stones up, for Sandy's head only was +above the level of the ground; it was all he could do to lift some of +the larger ones out of the hole, and Willie saw that he must contrive to +give him some help. He ran therefore to the house, and brought a rope +which he had seen lying about. One end of it Sandy tied round whatever +stone was too heavy for him, and Willie, laying hold of the other, +lifted along with him. They got on faster now, and in a few minutes +Sandy exclaimed-- + +"Here it is at last!" + +"The treasure?" cried Willie. "Oh, jolly!" + +Sandy burst out laughing, and shouted-- + +"The water!" + +"Bother the water!" growled Willie. "But go on, Sandy; the iron chest +may be at the bottom of the water, you know." + +"All very well for you up there!" retorted Sandy. "But though I can get +the stones out, I can't get the water out. And I've no notion of diving +where there's pretty sure to be nothing to dive for. Besides, a body +can't dive in a stone pipe like this. I should want weights to sink +me, and I mightn't get them off in time. I want my breakfast dreadful, +Willie." + +So saying, he scrambled up the side of the well, and the last of him +that appeared, his boots, namely, bore testimony enough to his having +reached the water. Willie peered down into the well, and caught the +dull glimmer of it through the stones; then, a good deal disappointed, +followed Sandy as he strode away towards the house. + +"You'll come and have your breakfast with me, Sandy, won't you?" he said +from behind him. + +"No, thank you," answered Sandy. "I don't like any porridge but my +mother's." + +And without looking behind him, he walked right through the cottage, and +away home. + +Before Willie had finished his porridge, he had got over his +disappointment, and had even begun to see that he had never really +expected to find a treasure. Only it would have been fun to hand it over +to his father! + +All through morning school, however, his thoughts would go back to the +little vault, so cool and shadowy, sheltering its ancient well from the +light that lorded it over all the country outside. No doubt the streams +rejoiced in it, but even for them it would be too much before the +evening came to cool and console them; while the slow wells in the +marshy ground up on the mountains must feel faint in an hour of its +burning eye. This well had always been, and always would be, cool and +blessed and sweet, like--like a precious thing you can only think about. +And wasn't it a nice thing to have a well of your own? Tibby needn't go +any more to the village pump--which certainly was nearer, but stood in +the street, not in their own ground. Of course, as yet, she could not +draw a bucketful, for the water hardly came above the stones; but he +would soon get out as many as would make it deep enough--only, if it was +all Sandy could do to get out the big ones, and that with his help too, +how was he to manage it alone? There was the rub! + +I must go back a little to explain how he came to think of a plan. + +After Hector and he had gone as far in Dr Dick's astronomy as they could +understand, they found they were getting themselves into what seemed +quite a jungle of planets, and suns, and comets, and constellations. + +"It seems to me," said the shoemaker, "that to understand anything you +must understand everything." + +So they laid the book aside for the present; and Hector, searching about +for another with which to fill up the remainder of the afternoon, came +upon one in which the mechanical powers were treated after a simple +fashion. + +Of this book Willie had now read a good deal. I cannot say that he had +yet come to understand the mechanical power so thoroughly as to see +that the lever and the wheel-and-axle are the same in kind, or that the +screw, the inclined plane, and the wedge are the same power in different +shapes; but he did understand that while a single pulley gives you no +advantage except by enabling you to apply your strength in the most +effective manner, a second pulley takes half the weight off you. Hence, +with the difficulty in which he now found himself, came at once the +thought of a block with a pulley in it, which he had seen lying about +in the carpenter's shop. He remembered also that there was a great iron +staple or _eye_ in the vault just over the well; and if he could only +get hold of a second pulley, the thing was as good as done--the well as +good as cleared out to whatever depth he could reach below the water. + +As soon as school was over, he ran to Mr Spelman, and found to his +delight that he could lend him not only that pulley but another as well. +Each ran in a block which had an iron hook attached to it. With the aid +of a ladder he put the hook of one of the blocks through the staple, and +then fastened the end of his rope to the block. Next he got another bit +of rope, and having pulled off his shoes and stockings, and got down +into the well, tied it round the largest stone within reach, loosely +enough to allow the hook of the second pulley to lay hold of it. Then, +as a sailor would say, he rove the end of the long rope through this +block, and getting up on the ladder again, rove it also through the +first block which he had left hanging to the staple. All preparations +thus completed, he stood by the well, and hauled away at the rope. It +came slipping through the pulleys, and up rose the stone from the well +as if by magic. As soon as it came clear of the edge, he drew it towards +him, lowered it to the ground, took off its rope collar, and rolled it +out of the doorway. Then he got into the well again, tied the collar +about another stone, drew down the pulley, thrust its hook through the +collar, got out of the well, and hauled up the second stone. + +In this way he had soon got out so many that he was standing far above +his ankles in the water, which was so cold that he was glad to get out +to pull up every stone. By this time it was perfectly explained how the +water made a noise, for he saw it escape by an opening in the side of +the well. + +He came at last to a huge stone, round which it was with difficulty he +managed to fasten the rope. He had to pull away smaller stones from +beneath it, and pass the rope through under it. Having lifted it a +little way with the powerful help of his tackle, to try if all was right +before he got out to haul in earnest, he saw that his knot was slipping, +and lowered the stone again so as to set it on one end, leaning against +the side of the well--when he discovered that his rope collar had got so +frayed, that one of the strands was cut through; it would probably break +and let the stone fall again into the well, when he would still more +probably tumble after it. He was getting tired too, and it was growing +very dusky in the ruins. He thought it better to postpone further +proceedings, and getting out of the well, caught up his shoes and +stockings, and went into the house. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +A MARVEL. + + +Early the next morning Mr Macmichael, as he was dressing, heard a laugh +of strange delight in the garden, and, drawing up the blind, looked +out. There, some distance off, stood Willie, the one moment staring +motionless at something at his feet, the other dancing and skipping and +singing, but still looking down at something at his feet. His father +could not see what this something was, for Willie was on the other side +of one of the mounds, and was turning away to finish his dressing, when +from another direction a peculiar glitter caught his eye. + +"What can this mean?" he said to himself. "Water in the garden! There's +been no rain; and there's neither river nor reservoir to overflow! I can +hardly believe my eyes!" + +He hurried on the remainder of his clothes, and went out. But he had not +gone many steps when what should he meet but a merry little brook coming +cantering down between two of the mounds! It had already worn itself +a channel in the path. He followed it up, wondering much, bewildered +indeed; and had got to a little turfy hollow, down the middle of which +it came bubbling and gabbling along, when Willie caught sight of +him, and bounded to meet him with a radiant countenance and almost +inarticulate cries of delight. + +"Am I awake, Willie? or am I dreaming?" he asked. + +"Wide awake, papa," answered Willie. + +"Then what is the meaning of this? _You_ seem to be in the secret: where +does this water come from? I feel as if I were in a fairy tale." + +"Isn't it lovely?" cried Willie. "I'll show you where it comes from. +This way. You'll spoil your boots there. Look at the rhubarb-bed; it's +turned into a swamp." + +"The garden will be ruined," said his father. + +"No, no, papa; we won't let it come to that. I've been watching it. +There's no soil carried away yet. Do come and see." + +In mute astonishment, his father followed. + +As I have already described it, the ground was very uneven, with many +heights and hollows, whence it came that the water took an amazing +number of twists and turns. Willie led his father as straight as he +could, but I don't know how often they crossed the little brook before +they came to where, from the old stone shaft, like the crater of a +volcano, it rolled over the brim, an eruption of cool, clear, lucid +water. Plenteous it rose and overflowed, like a dark yet clear molten +gem, tumbling itself into the open world. How deliciously wet it looked +in the shadow I---how it caught the sun the moment it left the chamber, +grew merry, and trotted and trolled and cantered along! + +"Is this _your_ work, Willie?" asked his father, who did not know which +of twenty questions to ask first. + +"Mostly," said Willie. + +"You little wizard! what have you been about? I can't understand it. We +must make a drain for it at once." + +"Bury a beauty like that in a drain!" cried Willie. "O papa!" + +"Well, I don't know what else to do with it. How is it that it never +found its way out before--somewhere or other?" + +"I'll soon show you that," said Willie. "I'll soon send it about its +business." + +He had thought, when he first saw the issuing water, that the weight +of the fallen stones and the hard covering of earth being removed, the +spring had burst out with tenfold volume and vigour; but had satisfied +himself by thinking about it, that the cause of the overflow must be the +great stone he had set leaning against the side the last thing before +dropping work the previous night: it must have blocked up the opening, +and prevented the water from getting out as fast as before, that is, as +fast as the spring rose. Therefore he now laid hold of the rope, which +was still connected with the stone, and, not aware of how the water +would help him by partly floating it, was astonished to find how easily +he moved it. At once it swung away from the side into the middle of the +well; the water ceased to run over the edge, with a loud gurgling began +to sink, and sank down and down and down until the opening by which it +escaped was visible. + +"Ah! now, now I understand!" cried Mr Macmichael. "It's the old well of +the Priory you've come upon, you little burrowing mole." + +"Sandy helped me out with the stones. I thought there might be a +treasure down there, and that set me digging. It was a funny treasure to +find--wasn't it? No treasure could have been prettier though." + +"If this be the Prior's Well, and all be true they said about it in old +times," returned his father, "it may turn out a greater treasure than +you even hoped for, Willie. Why, as I found some time ago in an old book +about the monasteries of the country, people used to come from great +distances to drink the water of the Prior's Well, believing it a cure +for every disease under the sun. Run into the house and fetch me a jug." + +"Yes, papa," said Willie, and bounded off. + +There was no little brook careering through the garden now--only a few +pools here and there--and its channel would soon be dry in the hot sun. +But Willie thought how delightful it was to be able to have one there +whenever he pleased. And it might be a much bigger brook too, for, +instead of using the stone which could but partly block the water from +the underground way, he would cut a piece of wood large enough to cover +the opening, and rounded a little to fit the side of the well; then he +would put the big stone just so far from the opening that the piece of +wood could get through between it and the side of the well, and so be +held tight. Then all the water would be forced to mount up, get out at +the top, and run through the garden. + +Meantime Mr Macmichael, having gone to see what course the water +had taken, and how it had left the garden, found that, after a very +circuitous route, it had run through the hedge into a surface drain in +the field, and so down the hill towards the river. + +When Willie brought him the jug, he filled it from the well, and carried +the water into his surgery. There he put a little of it into several +different glasses, and dropping something out of one bottle into one +glass, and something out of another bottle into another glass, soon +satisfied himself that it contained medicinal salts in considerable +quantities. There could be no doubt that Willie had found the Prior's +Well. + +"It's a good thing," said his father at breakfast, "that you didn't +flood the house, Willie! One turn more and the stream would have been in +at the back-door." + +"It wouldn't have done much harm," said Willie. "It would have run along +the slabs in the passage and out again, for the front door is lower than +the back. It would have been such fun!" + +"You mischievous little thing!" said his mother, pretending to scold +him,--"you don't think what trouble you would have given Tibby!" + +"But wouldn't it have been fun? And wouldn't it have been +lovely--running through the house all the hot summer day?" + +"There may be a difference of opinion about that, Master Willie," said +his mother. "You, for instance, might like to walk through water every +time you went from the parlour to the kitchen, but I can't say I +should." + +Curious to know whether the village pump might not be supplied from his +well, Mr Macmichael next analysed the water of that also, and satisfied +himself that there was no connection between them. Within the next +fortnight Willie discovered that as often as the stream ran through the +garden, the little brook in which he had set his water-wheel going was +nearly dry. + +He had soon made a nice little channel for it, so that it should not get +into any of the beds. He laid down turf along its banks in some parts, +and sowed grass and daisy-seed in others; and when he found a pretty +stone or shell, or bit of coloured glass or bright crockery or broken +mirror, he would always throw it in, that the water might have the +prettier path to run upon. Indeed, he emptied his store of marbles into +it. He was not particularly fond of playing with marbles, but he had a +great fancy for those of real white marble with lovely red streaks, and +had collected some twenty or thirty of them. He kept them in the brook +now, instead of in a calico bag. + +The summer was a very hot and dry one. More than any of the rest of the +gardens in the village, that of The Ruins suffered from such weather; +for not only was there a deep gravel-bed under its mould, but a good +part of its produce grew on the mounds, which were mostly heaps of +stones, and neither gravel nor stones could retain much moisture. Willie +watered it a good deal out of the Prior's Well; but it was hard work, +and did not seem to be of much use. + +One evening, when he had set the little brook free to run through the +garden, and the sun was setting huge and red, with the promise of +another glowing day to-morrow, and the air was stifling, and not a +breath of wind stirring, so that the flowers hung their heads oppressed, +and the leaves and little buttons of fruit on the trees looked ready to +shrivel up and drop from the boughs, the thought came to him whether he +could not turn the brook into a little Nile, causing it to overflow its +banks and enrich the garden. He could not, of course, bring it about in +the same way; for the Nile overflows from the quantities of rain up in +the far-off mountains, making huge torrents rush into it faster than its +channel, through a slow, level country, can carry the water away, so +that there is nothing for it but overflow. If, however, he could not +make more water run out of the well, he could make it more difficult +for what did come from it to get away. First, he stopped up the outlet +through the hedge with stones, and clay, and bits of board; then watched +as it spread, until he saw where it would try to escape next, and did +the same; and so on, taking care especially to keep it from the house. +The mounds were a great assistance to him in hemming it in, but he had +hard enough work of it notwithstanding; and soon perceived that at one +spot it would get the better of him in a few minutes, and make straight +for the back-door. He ran at once and opened the sluice in the well, and +away the stream gurgled underground. + +Before morning the water it left had all disappeared. It had soaked +through the mounds, and into the gravel, but comforting the hot roots as +it went, and feeding them with dissolved minerals. Doubtless, also, it +lay all night in many a little hidden pool, which the heat of the next +day's sun drew up, comforting again, through the roots in the earth, and +through the leaves in the air, up into the sky. Willie could not help +thinking that the garden looked refreshed; the green was brighter, +he thought, and the flowers held up their heads a little better; the +carrots looked more feathery, and the ferns more palmy; everything +looked, he said, just as he felt after a good drink out of the Prior's +Well. At all events, he resolved to do the same every night after sunset +while the hot weather lasted--that was, if his father had no objection. + +Mr Macmichael said he might try it, only he must mind and not go to bed +and leave the water running, else they would have a cartload of mud in +the house before morning. + +So Willie strengthened and heightened his barriers, and having built a +huge one at the last point where the water had tried to get away, as +soon as the sun was down shut the sluice, and watched the water as it +surged up in the throat of the well, and rushed out to be caught in the +toils he had made for it. Before it could find a fresh place to get out +at, the whole upper part of the garden was one network of lakes and +islands. + +Willie kept walking round and round it, as if it had been a wild beast +trying to get out of its cage, and he had to watch and prevent it at +every weak spot; or as if he were a magician, busily sustaining the +charm by which he confined the gad-about creature. The moment he saw it +beginning to get the better of him, he ran to the sluice and banished it +to the regions below. Then he fetched an old newspaper, and sitting down +on the borders of his lake, fashioned boat after boat out of the paper, +and sent them sailing like merchant ships from isle to blooming isle. + +Night after night he flooded the garden, and always before morning the +water had sunk away through the gravel. Soon there was no longer +any doubt that everything was mightily refreshed by it; the look of +exhaustion and hopelessness was gone, and life was busy in flower and +tree and plant. This year there was not a garden, even on the banks of +the river, to compare with it; and when the autumn came, there was more +fruit than Mr Macmichael remembered ever to have seen before. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +A NEW ALARUM. + +Willie was always thinking what uses he could put things to. Only he +was never tempted to set a fine thing to do dirty work, as dull-hearted +money-grubbers do--mill-owners, for instance, when they make the channel +of a lovely mountain-stream serve for a drain to carry off the filth +from their works. If Dante had known any such, I know where he would +have put them, but I would rather not describe the place. I have told +you what Willie made the prisoned stream do for the garden; I will now +tell you what he made the running stream do for himself, and you shall +judge whether or not that was fit work for him to require of it. + +Ever since he had ceased being night-nurse to little Agnes, he had +wished that he had some one to wake him every night, about the middle of +it, that he might get up and look out of the window. For, after he had +fed his baby-sister and given her back to his mother in a state of +contentment, before getting into bed again he had always looked out +of the window to see what the night was like--not that he was one bit +anxious about the weather, except, indeed, he heard his papa getting up +to go out, or knew that he had to go; for he could enjoy weather of +any sort and all sorts, and never thought what the next day would be +like--but just to see what Madame Night was thinking about--how she +looked, and what she was doing. For he had soon found her such a +changeful creature that, every time he looked at her, she looked at him +with another face from that she had worn last time. Before he had made +this acquaintance with the night, he would often, ere he fell asleep, +lie wondering what he was going to dream about; for, with all his +practical tendencies, Willie was very fond of dreaming; but after he had +begun in this manner to make acquaintance with her, he would just as +often fall asleep wondering what the day would be dreaming about--for, +in his own fanciful way of thinking, he had settled that the look of +the night was what the day was dreaming. Hence, when Agnes required +his services no longer, he fell asleep the first night with the full +intention of waking just as before, and getting up to have a peep into +the day's dream, whatever it might be, that night, and every night +thereafter. But he was now back in his own room, and there was nothing +to wake him, so he slept sound until the day had done dreaming, and the +morning was wide awake. + +Neither had he awoke any one night since, or seen what marvel there +might be beyond his windowpanes. + +Does any little boy or girl wonder what there can be going on when we +are asleep? Sometimes the stars, sometimes the moon, sometimes the +clouds, sometimes the wind, sometimes the snow, sometimes the frost, +sometimes all of them together, are busy. Sometimes the owl and the moth +and the beetle, and the bat and the cat and the rat, are all at work. +Sometimes there are flowers in bloom that love the night better than the +day, and are busy all through the darkness pouring out on the still air +the scent they withheld during the sunlight. Sometimes the lightning and +the thunder, sometimes the moon-rainbow, sometimes the aurora borealis, +is busy. And the streams are running all night long, and seem to babble +louder than in the day time, for the noises of the working world are +still, so that we hear them better. Almost the only daylight thing +awake, is the clock ticking with nobody to heed it, and that sounds to +me very dismal. But it was the look of the night, the meaning on her +face that Willie cared most about, and desired so much to see, that he +was at times quite unhappy to think that he never could wake up, not +although ever so many strange and lovely dreams might be passing before +his window. He often dreamed that he had waked up, and was looking out +on some gorgeous and lovely show, but in the morning he knew sorrowfully +that he had only dreamed his own dream, not gazed into that of the +sleeping day. Again and again he had worked his brains to weariness, +trying and trying to invent some machine that should wake him. But +although he was older and cleverer now, he fared no better than when he +wanted to wake himself to help his mother with Agnes. He must have some +motive power before he could do anything, and the clock was still the +only power he could think of, and that he was afraid to meddle with, for +its works were beyond him, and it was so essential to the well-being of +the house that he would not venture putting it in jeopardy. + +One day, however, when he was thinking nothing about it, all at once +it struck him that he had another motive power at his command, and the +thought had hardly entered his mind, before he saw also how it was +possible to turn it to account. His motive power was the stream from the +Prior's Well, and the means of using it for his purpose stood on a shelf +in the ruins, in the shape of the toy water-wheel which he had laid +aside as distressingly useless. He set about the thing at once. + +First of all, he made a second bit of channel for the stream, like a +little loop to the first, so that he could, when he pleased, turn a part +of the water into it, and let it again join the principal channel a +little lower down. This was, in fact, his mill-race. Just before it +joined the older part again, right opposite his window, he made it run +for a little way in a direct line towards the house, and in this part +of the new channel he made preparations for his water-wheel. Into the +channel he laid a piece of iron pipe, which had been lying about useless +for years; and just where the water would issue in a concentrated rush +from the lower end of it, he constructed a foundation for his wheel, +similar to that Sandy and he had built for it before. The water, as it +issued from the pipe, should strike straight upon its floats, and send +it whirling round. It took him some time to build it, for he wanted this +to be a good and permanent job. He had stones at command: he had a +well, he said, that yielded both stones and water, which was more than +everybody could say; and in order to make it a sound bit of work, he +fetched a lump of quick-lime from the kiln, where they burned quantities +of it to scatter over the clay-soil, and first wetting it with water +till it fell into powder, and then mixing it with sand which he riddled +from the gravel he dug from the garden, he made it into good strong +mortar. When its bed was at length made for it, he took the wheel and +put in a longer axis, to project on one side beyond the gudgeon-block, +or hollow in which it turned; and upon this projecting piece he fixed a +large reel. Then, having put the wheel in its place, he asked his father +for sixpence, part of which he laid out on a large ball of pack-thread. +The outside end of the ball he fastened to the reel, then threw the +ball through the open window into his room, and there undid it from the +inside end, laying the thread in coils on the floor. When it was time to +go to bed, he ran out and turned the water first into the garden, and +then into the new channel; when suddenly the wheel began to spin about, +and wind the pack-thread on to the reel. He ran to his room, and +undressed faster than he had ever done before, tied the other end of the +thread around his wrist, and, although kept awake much longer than usual +by his excitement, at length fell fast asleep, and dreamed that the +thread had waked him, and drawn him to the window, where he saw the +water-wheel flashing like a fire-wheel, and the water rushing away from +under it in a green flame. When he did wake it was broad day; the coils +of pack-thread were lying on the floor scarcely diminished; the brook +was singing in the garden, and when he went to the window, he saw the +wheel spinning merrily round. He dressed in haste, ran out, and found +that the thread had got entangled amongst the bushes on its way to the +wheel, and had stuck fast; whereupon the wheel had broken it to get +loose, and had been spinning round and round all night for nothing, like +the useless thing it was before. + +That afternoon he set poles up for guides, along the top of which the +thread might run, and so keep clear of the bushes. But he fared no +better the next night, for he never waked until the morning, when he +found that the wheel stood stock still, for the thread, having filled +the reel, had slipped off, and so wound itself about the wheel that it +was choked in its many windings. Indeed, the thread was in a wonderful +tangle about the whole machine, and it took him a long time to +unwind--turning the wheel backwards, so as not to break the thread. + +In order to remove the cause of this fresh failure, he went to the +turner, whose name was William Burt, and asked him to turn for him a +large reel or spool, with deep ends, and small cylinder between. William +told him he was very busy just then, but he would fix a suitable piece +of wood for him on his old lathe, with which, as he knew him to be a +handy boy, he might turn what he wanted for himself. This was his first +attempt at the use of the turning-lathe; but he had often watched +William at work, and was familiar with the way in which he held his +tool. Hence the result was tolerably satisfactory. Long before he had +reached the depth of which he wished to make the spool, he had learned +to manage his chisel with some nicety. Burt finished it off for him with +just a few touches; and, delighted with his acquisition of the rudiments +of a new trade, he carried the spool home with him, to try once more the +possibility of educating his water-wheel into a watchman. + +That night the pull did indeed come, but, alas before he had even fallen +asleep. + +Something seemed to be always going wrong! He concluded already that it +was a difficult thing to make a machine which should do just what the +maker wished. The spool had gone flying round, and had swallowed up the +thread incredibly fast. He made haste to get the end off his wrist, and +saw it fly through the little hole in the window frame, and away after +the rest of it, to be wound on the whirling spool. + +Disappointing as this was, however, there was progress in it: he had got +the thing to work, and all that remained was to regulate it. But this +turned out the most difficult part of the affair by far. He saw at once +that if he were only to make the thread longer, which was the first mode +that suggested itself, he would increase the constant danger there was +of its getting fouled, not to mention the awkwardness of using such a +quantity of it. If the kitten were to get into the room, for instance, +after he had laid it down, she would ruin his every hope for the time +being; and in Willie's eyes sixpence was a huge sum to ask from his +father. But if, on the contrary, he could find out any mode of making +the machine wind more slowly, he might then be able to shorten instead +of lengthening the string. + +At length, after much pondering, he came to see that if, instead of the +spool, he were to fix on the axis a small cogged wheel--that is, a wheel +with teeth--and then make these cogs fit into the cogs of a much larger +wheel, the small wheel, which would turn once with every turn of the +water-wheel, must turn a great many times before it could turn the big +wheel once. Then he must fix the spool on the axis of this great slow +wheel, when, turning only as often as the wheel turned, the spool would +wind the thread so much the more slowly. + +I will not weary my reader with any further detail of Willie's efforts +and failures. It is enough to say that he was at last so entirely +successful in timing his machine, for the run of the water was always +the same, that he could tell exactly how much thread it would wind in a +given time. Having then measured off the thread with a mark of ink for +the first hour, two for the second, and so on, he was able to set his +alarum according to the time at which he wished to be woke by the pull +at his wrist. + +But if any one had happened to go into the garden after the household +was asleep, and had come upon the toy water-wheel, working away in +starlight or moonlight, how little, even if he had caught sight of the +nearly invisible thread, and had discovered that the wheel was winding +it up, would he have thought what the tiny machine was about! How little +would he have thought that its business was with the infinite! that it +was in connection with the window of an eternal world--namely, Willie's +soul--from which at a given moment it would lift the curtains, namely, +the eyelids, and let the night of the outer world in upon the thought +and feeling of the boy! To use a likeness, the wheel was thus ever +working to draw up the slide of a _camera obscura_, and let in whatever +pictures might be abroad in the dreams of the day, that the watcher +within might behold them. + +Indeed, one night as he came home from visiting a patient, soon after +Willie had at length taught his watchman his duty, Mr Macmichael did +come upon the mill, and was just going to turn the water off at the +well, which he thought Willie had forgotten to do, when he caught +sight of the winding thread--for the moon was full, and the Doctor was +sharp-sighted. + +"What _can_ this be now?" he said to himself. "Some new freak of +Willie's, of course. Yes; the thread goes right up to his window! I +dare say if I were to stop and watch I should see something happen in +consequence. But I am too tired, and must go to bed." + +Just as he thought thus with himself, the wheel stopped. The next moment +the blind of Willie's window was drawn up, and there stood Willie, his +face and his white gown glimmering in the moonlight. He caught sight of +his father, and up went the sash. + +"O papa!" he cried; "I didn't think it was you I was going to see!" + +"Who was it then you thought to see?" asked his father. + +"Oh, nobody!--only the night herself, and the moon perhaps." + +"What new freak of yours is this, my boy?" said his father, smiling. + +"Wait a minute, and I'll tell you all about it," answered Willie. + +Out he came in his night-shirt, his bare feet dancing with pleasure at +having his father for his midnight companion. On the grass, beside the +ruins, in the moonlight, by the gurgling water, he told him all about +it. + +"Yes, my boy; you are right," said his father. "God never sleeps; and it +would be a pity if we never saw Him at his night-work." + + +[Illustration: "ON THE GRASS, BESIDE THE RUINS, IN THE MOONLIGHT, WILLIE +TOLD HIS FATHER ALL ABOUT IT."] + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +SOME OF THE SIGHTS WILLIE SAW. + +I fancy some of my readers would like to hear what were some of the +scenes Willie saw on such occasions. The little mill went on night after +night--almost everynight in the summer, and those nights in the +winter when the frost wasn't so hard that it would have frozen up the +machinery. But to attempt to describe the variety of the pictures Willie +saw would be an endless labour. + +Sometimes, when he looked out, it was a simple, quiet, thoughtful night +that met his gaze, without any moon, but as full of stars as it could +hold, all flashing and trembling through the dew that was slowly sinking +down the air to settle upon the earth and its thousand living things +below. On such a night Willie never went to bed again without wishing to +be pure in heart, that he might one day see the God whose thought had +taken the shape of such a lovely night. For although he could not have +expressed himself thus at that time, he felt that it must be God's +thinking that put it all there. + +Other times, the stars would be half blotted out--all over the +heavens--not with mist, but with the light of the moon. Oh, how lovely +she was!--so calm! so all alone in the midst of the great blue ocean! +the sun of the night! She seemed to hold up the tent of the heavens in a +great silver knot. And, like the stars above, all the flowers below had +lost their colour and looked pale and wan, sweet and sad. It was just +like what the schoolmaster had been telling him about the Elysium of the +Greek and Latin poets, to which they fancied the good people went when +they died--not half so glad and bright and busy as the daylight world +which they had left behind them, and to which they always wanted to go +back that they might eat and drink and be merry again--but oh, so tender +and lovely in its mournfulness! + +Several times in winter, looking out, he saw a strange sight--the air so +full of great snowflakes that he could not see the moon through them, +although her light was visible all about them. They came floating slowly +down through the dusky light, just as if they had been a precipitate +from that solution of moonbeams. He could hardly persuade himself to go +to bed, so fascinating was the sight; but the cold would drive him to +his nest again. + +Once the wheel-watchman pulled him up in the midst of a terrible +thunder-storm--when the East and the West were answering each other with +alternate flashes of forked lightning that seemed to split the +black clouds with cracks of blinding blue, awful in their blasting +silence--followed by great, billowy, shattering rolls of thunder, as +loud as if the sky had been a huge kettledrum, on which the clubs of +giant drummers were beating a terrible onset; while at sudden intervals, +down came the big-dropped rain, pattering to the earth as if beaten +out of the clouds by the blows of the thunder. But Willie was not +frightened, though the lightning blinded and the thunder deafened +him--not frightened any more than the tiniest flower in the garden +below, which, if she could have thought about it, would have thought it +all being done only that she might feel cooler and stronger, and be able +to hold up her head better. + +And once he saw a glorious dance of the aurora borealis--in all the +colours of a faint rainbow. The frosty snow sparkled underneath, and the +cold stars of winter sparkled above, and between the snow and the stars, +shimmered and shifted, vanished and came again, a serried host of +spears. Willie had been reading the "Paradise Lost," and the part which +pleased him, boy-like, the most, was the wars of the angels in the sixth +book. Hence it came that the aurora looked to him like the crowding +of innumerable spears--in the hands of angels, themselves +invisible--clashed together and shaken asunder, however, as in the +convolutions of a mazy dance of victory, rather than brandished and +hurtled as in the tumult of the battle. + +Another vision that would greatly delight him was a far more common one: +the moon wading through clouds blown slowly across the sky--especially +if by an upper wind, unfelt below. Now she would be sinking helpless in +a black faint--growing more and more dim, until at last she disappeared +from the night--was blotted from the face of nature, leaving only a dim +memorial light behind her; now her soul would come into her again, +and she was there once more--doubtful indeed: but with a slow, solemn +revival, her light would grow and grow, until the last fringe of the +great cloud swung away from off her face, and she dawned out stately +and glorious, to float for a space in queenly triumph across a lake of +clearest blue. And Willie was philosopher enough to say to himself, that +all this fainting and reviving, all this defeat and conquest, were but +appearances; that the moon was her own bright self all the time, basking +contented in the light of her sun, between whom and her the cloud could +not creep, only between her and Willie. + +But what delighted him most of all was to catch the moon dreaming. That +was when the old moon, tumbled over on her back, would come floating up +the east, like a little boat on the rising tide of the night, looking +lost on the infinite sea! Dreaming she must be surely!--she looked +nothing but dreaming; for she seemed to care about nothing--not even +that she was old and worn, and withered and dying,--not even that, +instead of sinking down in the west, into some deep bed of dim repose, +she was drifting, haggard and battered, untidy and weak and sleepy, up +and up into the dazzling halls of the sun. Did she know that his light +would clothe her as with a garment, and hide her in the highest recesses +of his light-filled ceiling? or was it only that she was dreaming, +dreaming--sweet, cool, tender dreams of her own, and neither knew nor +cared about anything around her? What a strange look all the night wore +while the tired old moon was thus dreaming of the time when she would +come again, back through the vanishing and the darkness--a single curved +thread of a baby moon, to grow and grow to a great full-grown lady moon, +able to cross with fearless gaze the gulf of the vaulted heavens--alone, +with neither sleep nor dreams to protect her! + +There were many other nights, far more commonplace, which yet Willie +liked well to look out upon, but which could not keep him long from his +bed. There was, for instance, the moonless and cloudy night, when, if he +had been able to pierce the darkness to the core, he would have found +nothing but blackness. It had a power of its own, but one cannot say it +had much to look at. On such a night he would say to himself that the +day was so sound asleep he was dreaming of nothing at all, and make +haste to his nest. Then again there was the cold night of black frost, +when there was cloud enough to hide the stars and the moon, and yet a +little light came soaking through, enough to reveal how hopeless and +dreary the earth was. For in such nights of cold, when there is no snow +to cover them, the flowers that have crept into their roots to hide from +the winter are not even able to dream of the spring;--they grow quite +stupid and benumbed, and sleep outright like a polar bear or a dormouse. +He never could look long at such a night. + +Neither did he care to look long when a loud wind was out--except the +moon was bright; for the most he could distinguish was the trees blowing +against the sky, and they always seemed not to like it, and to want to +stop. And if the big strong trees did not like it, how could the poor +little delicate flowers, shivering and shaking and tossed to and fro? +If he could have seen the wind itself, it would have been a different +thing; but as it was, he could enjoy it more by lying in bed and +listening to it. Then as he listened he could fancy himself floating out +through miles and miles of night and wind, and moon-and-star-light, or +moony snowflakes, or even thick darkness and rain; until, falling asleep +in the middle of his fancy, it would thicken around him into a dream of +delight. + +Once there was to be an eclipse of the moon about two o'clock in the +morning. + +"It's a pity it's so late, or rather so early," said Mr Macmichael. +"You, Willie, won't be able to see it." + +"Oh, yes, I shall, father," answered Willie. + +"I can't let you sit up so late. I shall be in the middle of Sedgy Moor +most likely when it begins--and who is to wake you? I won't have your +mother disturbed, and Tibby's not much to depend upon. She's too +hard-worked to wake when she likes, poor old thing." + +"Oh, I can be woke without anybody to do it!" said Willie. + +"You don't mean you can depend on your water-wheel to wake you at the +right time, do you?" + +"Yes, I do, father. If you will tell me exactly when the eclipse is +going to begin, I will set my wakener so that it shall wake me a +quarter-of-an-hour before, that I may be sure of seeing the very first +of it." + +"Well, it will be worth something to you, if it can do that!" said Mr +Macmichael. + +"It's been worth a great deal to me, already," said Willie. "It would +have shown me an eclipse before now, only there hasn't been one since I +set it going." + +And wake him it did. While his father was riding across the moor, in the +strange hush of the blotted moon, Willie was out in the garden beside +his motionless wheel, watching the fell shadow of the earth passing +over the blessed face of the moon, and leaving her pure and clear, and +nothing the worse. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +A NEW SCHEME. + +I have said that Willie's father and mother used to talk without +restraint in his presence. They had no fear of Willie's committing an +indiscretion by repeating what he heard. One day at dinner the following +conversation took place between them. + +"I've had a letter from my mother, John," said Mrs Macmichael to her +husband. "It's wonderful how well she manages to write, when she sees so +badly." + +"She might see well enough--at least a great deal better--if she would +submit to an operation, said the doctor. + +"At _her_ age, John!" returned his wife in an expostulatory tone. "Do +you really think it worth while--for the few years that are left her?" + +"Worth while to see well for a few years!" exclaimed the doctor. +"Indeed, I do." + +"But there's another thing I want to talk to you about now," said Mrs +Macmichael. "Since old Ann's death, six months ago, she says she has +been miserable, and if she goes on like this, it will shorten the few +days that are left her. Effie, the only endurable servant she has had +since Ann, is going to leave at the end of her half-year, and she says +the thought of another makes her wretched. She may be a little hard to +please, but after being used to one for so many years, it is no wonder +if she be particular. I don't know what is to be done." + +"I don't know, either--except you make her a present of Tibby," said her +husband. + +"John!" exclaimed Mrs Macmichael; and "John" burst out laughing. + +"You don't think they'd pull together?" he said. + +"Two old people--each with her own ways, and without any memories in +common to bind them together! I'm surprised at your dreaming of such a +thing," exclaimed his wife. + +"But I didn't even dream of it; I only said it," returned her husband. +"It's time you knew when I was joking, wifie." + +"You joke so dreadfully like earnest!" she answered. + +"If only we had one more room in the house!" said the doctor, +thoughtfully. + +"Ah!" returned his wife, eagerly, "that would be a blessing! And though +Tibby would be a thorn in every inch of grandmamma's body, if they were +alone together, I have no doubt they would get on very well with me +between them." + +"I don't doubt it," said her husband, still thoughtfully. + +"Couldn't we manage it somehow, John?" said Mrs Macmichael, half +timidly, after a pause of some duration. + +"I can't say I see how--at this moment," answered the doctor, "much as I +should like it. But there's time yet, and we'll think it over, and talk +about it, and perhaps we may hit upon some plan or other. Most things +_may_ be done; and everything necessary _can_ be done _some_how. So we +won't bother our minds about it, but only our brains, and see what they +can do for us." + +With this he rose and went to his laboratory. + +Willie rose also and went straight to his own room. Having looked all +round it thoughtfully several times, he went out again on the landing, +whence a ladder led up into a garret running the whole length of the +roof of the cottage. + +"My room would do for grannie," he said to himself; "and I could sleep +up there. A shake-down in the corner would do well enough for me." + +He climbed the ladder, pushed open the trap-door, crept half through, +and surveyed the gloomy place. + +"There's no window but a skylight!" he said; and his eyes smarted as if +the tears were about to rush into them. "What _shall_ I do? Wheelie will +be useless!--Well, I can't help it; and if I can't help it, I can bear +it. To have grannie comfortable will be better than to look out of the +window ever so much." + +He drew in his head, came down the ladder with a rush, and hurried off +to school. + +At supper he laid his scheme before his father and mother. + +They looked very much pleased with their boy. But his father said at +once-- + +"No, no, Willie. It won't do. I'm glad you've been the first to think of +something--only, unfortunately, your plan won't work. You can't sleep +there." + +"I'll engage to sleep wherever there's room to lie down; and if there +isn't I'll engage to sleep sitting or standing," said Willie, whose +mother had often said she wished she could sleep like Willie. "And as I +don't walk in my sleep," he added, "the trap-door needn't be shut." + +"Mice, Willie!" said his mother, in a tone of much significance. + +"The cat and I are good friends," returned Willie. "She'll be pleased +enough to sleep with me." + +"You don't hit the thing at all," said his father. "I wonder a practical +man like you, Willie, doesn't see it at once. Even if I were at the +expense of ceiling the whole roof with lath and plaster, we should +find you, some morning in summer, baked black as a coal; or else, some +morning in winter frozen so stiff that, when we tried to lift you, your +arm snapped off like a dry twig of elder." + +"Ho! ho! ho!" laughed Willie; "then there would be the more room for +grannie." + +His father laughed with him, but his mother looked a little shocked. + +"No, Willie," said his father again; "you must make another attempt. You +must say with Hamlet when he was puzzled for a plan--'About my brains!' +Perhaps they will suggest something wiser next time." + +Willie lay so long awake that night, thinking, that _Wheelie_ pulled him +before he had had a wink of sleep. He got up, of course, and looked from +the window. + +The day was dreaming grandly. The sky was pretty clear in front, and +full of sparkles of light, for the stars were kept in the background by +the moon, which was down a little towards the west. She had sunk below +the top of a huge towering cloud, the edges of whose jags and pinnacles +she bordered with a line of silvery light. Now this cloud rose into the +sky from just behind the ruins, and looking a good deal like upheaved +towers and spires, made Willie think within himself what a grand place +the priory must have been, when its roofs and turrets rose up into the +sky. + +"They say a lot of people lived in it then!" he thought with himself as +he stood gazing at the cloud. + +Suddenly he gave a great jump, and clapped his hands so loud that he +woke his father. + +"Is anything the matter, my boy?" he asked, opening Willie's door, and +peeping in. + +"No, papa, nothing," answered Willie. "Only something that came into my +head with a great bounce!" + +"Ah!--Where did it come from, Willie?" + +"Out of that cloud there. Isn't it a grand one?" + +"Grand enough certainly to put many thoughts into a body's head, Willie. +What did it put into yours?" + +"Please, I would rather not tell just yet," answered Willie, "--if you +don't mind, father." + +"Not a bit, my boy. Tell me just when you please, or don't tell me at +all. I should like to hear it, but only at your pleasure, Willie." + +"Thank you, father. I do want to tell you, you know, but not just yet." + +"Very well, my boy. Now go to bed, and sleep may better the thought +before the morning." + +Willie soon fell asleep now, for he believed he had found what he +wanted. + +He was up earlier than usual the next morning, and out in the garden. + +"Surely," he said to himself, "those ruins, which once held so many +monks, might manage even yet to find room for me!" + +He went wandering about amongst them, like an undecided young bird +looking for the very best possible spot to build its nest in. The spot +Willie sought was that which would require the least labour and least +material to make it into a room. + +Before he heard the voice of Tibby, calling him to come to his porridge, +he had fixed upon one; and in the following chapter I will tell you what +led him to choose it. All the time between morning and afternoon school, +he spent in the same place; and when he came home in the evening, he +was accompanied by Mr Spelman, who went with him straight to the ruins. +There they were a good while together; and when Willie at length came +in, his mother saw that his face was more than usually radiant, and was +certain he had some new scheme or other in his head. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +WILLIE'S NEST IN THE RUINS. + +The spot he had fixed upon was in the part of the ruins next the +cottage, not many yards from the back door of it. I have said there were +still a few vaulted places on the ground-level used by the family. The +vault over the wood-house was perfectly sound and weather-tight, and, +therefore, as Willie and the carpenter agreed, quite safe to roost upon. +In a corner outside, and now open to the elements, had once been a small +winding stone stair, which led to the room above, on the few broken +fragments of which, projecting from the two sides of the corner, it was +just possible to climb, and so reach the top of the vault. Willie had +often got up to look out through a small, flat-arched window into the +garden of the manse. When Mr Shepherd, the clergyman, who often walked +in his garden, caught sight of him, he always came nearer, and had a +chat with him; for he did not mind such people as Willie looking into +his garden, and seeing what he was about. Sometimes also little Mona, a +girl of his own age, would be running about; and she also, if she caught +sight of Willie, was sure to come hopping and skipping like a bird to +have a talk with him, and beg him to take her up, which, he as often +assured her, was all but impossible. To this place Mr Spelman and Willie +climbed, and there held consultation whether and how it could be made +habitable. The main difficulty was, how to cover it in; for although the +walls were quite sound a long way up, it lay open to the sky. But about +ten feet over their heads they saw the opposing holes in two of the +walls where the joists formerly sustaining the floor of the chamber +above had rested; and Mr Spelman thought that, without any very large +outlay either of time or material, he could there lay a floor, as it +were, and then turn it into a roof by covering it with cement, or pitch, +or something of the sort, concerning which he would take counsel with +his friend Mortimer, the mason. + +"But," said Willie, "that would turn it into the bottom of a cistern; +for the walls above would hold the rain in, and what would happen then? +Either it must gather till it reached the top, or the weight of it would +burst the walls, or perhaps break through my roof and drown me." + +"It is easy to avoid that," said Mr Spelman. "We have only to lay on the +cement a little thicker at one side, and slope the surface down to the +other, where a hole through the wall, with a pipe in it, would let the +water off." + +"I know!" cried Willie. "That's what they called a gurgoyle!" + +"I don't know anything about that," said the carpenter; "I know it will +carry off the water." + +"To be sure," said Willie. "It's capital." + +"But," said Mr Spelman, "it's rather too serious a job this to set about +before asking the doctor's leave. It will cost money." + +"Much?" asked Willie, whose heart sank within him. + +"Well, that depends on what you count much," answered Spelman. "All I +can say is, it wouldn't be anything out of your father's pocket." + +"I don't see how that can be," said Willie. "--Cost money, and yet +be nothing out of my father's pocket! _I've_ only got threepence +ha'-penny." + +"Your father and I will talk about it," said the carpenter mysteriously, +and offered no further information. + +"There seems to be always some way of doing a thing," thought Willie to +himself. + +He little knew by what a roundabout succession of cause and effect his +father's kindness to Spelman was at this moment returning to him, one of +the links of connection being this project of Willie's own. + +The doctor being out at the time, the carpenter called again later in +the evening; and they had a long talk together--to the following effect. + +Spelman having set forth his scheme, and the doctor having listened in +silence until he had finished-- + +"But," said Mr Macmichael, "that will cost a good deal, I fear, and I +have no money to spare." + +"Mr Macmichael," said Spelman solemnly, his long face looking as if some +awful doom were about to issue from the middle of it, "you forget how +much I am in your debt." + +"No, I don't," returned the doctor. "But neither do I forget that it +takes all your time and labour to provide for your family; and what will +become of them if you set about this job, with no return in prospect but +the satisfaction of clearing off of an old debt?" + +"It is very good of you, sir, to think of that," said the carpenter; +"but, begging your pardon, I've thought of it too. Many's the time +you've come after what I'd ha' called work hours to see my wife--yes, in +the middle of the night, more than once or twice; and why shouldn't I do +the same? Look ye here, sir. If you're not in a main hurry, an' 'll give +me time, I'll do the heavy work o' this job after six o'clock o' the +summer nights, with Sandy to help me, and I'll charge you no more than +a journeyman's wages by the hour. And what Willie and Sandy can do by +themselves--he's a clever boy Sandy; but he's a genius Willie--what they +can do by themselves, and that's not a little, is nothing to me. And if +you'll have the goodness, when I give you the honest time, at fourpence +ha'penny an hour, just to strike that much off my bill, I'll be more +obliged to you than I am now. Only I fear I must make you pay for the +material--not a farthing more than it costs me at the saw-mills, up at +the Grange, for the carriage 'll come in with other lots I _must_ have." + +"It's a generous offer, Spelman," said the doctor, "and I accept it +heartily, though you are turning the tables of obligation upon me. +You'll have done far more for me than I ever did for you." + +"I wish that were like to be true, sir, but it isn't. My wife's not a +giantess yet, for all you've done for her." + +Spelman set to work at once. New joists were inserted in the old walls, +boarded over, and covered, after the advice of Mortimer, with some +cunning mixture to keep out the water. Then a pipe was put through the +wall to carry it off--which pipe, if it was not masked with an awful +head, as the remains of more than one on the Priory showed it would have +been in the days of the monks, yet did it work as faithfully without it. + +When it came to the plastering of the walls, Mr Spelman, after giving +them full directions, left the two boys to do that between them. +Although there was no occasion to roughen these walls by clearing away +the old mortar from between the stones, the weather having done that +quite sufficiently, and all the preparation they wanted for the first +thin coat was to be well washed down, it took them a good many days, +working all their time, to lay on the orthodox three coats of plaster. +Mr Spelman had wisely boarded the ceiling, so that they had not to +plaster that. + +Meantime he was preparing a door and window-frames in the shop. The room +had probably been one of the prior's, for it was much too large and +lofty for a mere cell, and had two windows. But these were fortunately +small, not like the splendid ones in the chapel and refectory, else they +would have been hard to fill with glass. + +"I'm afraid you'll be starved with cold, Willie," said his father one +day, after watching the boys at work for a few minutes. "There's no +fireplace." + +"Oh! that doesn't signify," answered Willie. "Look how thick the walls +are! and I shall have plenty of blankets on my bed. Besides, we can +easily put a little stove in, if it's wanted." + +But when the windows were fitted and fixed, Mr Macmichael saw to his +dismay that they were not made to open. They had not even a pane on +hinges. + +"This'll never do, Willie," he said. "This is far worse than no +chimney." + +Willie took his father by the coat, and led him to a corner, where a +hole went right through the wall into another room--if that can be +called a room which had neither floor nor ceiling. + +"There, father!" he said; "I am going to fit a slide over this hole, and +then I can let in just as much or as little air as I please." + +"It would have been better to have one at least of the windows made to +open. You will only get the air from the ruins that way, whereas you +might have had all the scents of Mr Shepherd's wallflowers and roses." + +"As soon as Mr Spelman has done with the job," said Willie, "I will make +them both to come wide open on hinges; but I don't want to bother him +about it, for he has been very kind, and I can do it quite well myself." + +This satisfied his father. + +At length the floor was boarded; a strong thick door was fitted tight; a +winding stair of deal inserted where the stone one had been, and cased +in with planks, well pitched on the outside; and now Willie's mother was +busy making little muslin curtains for his windows, and a carpet for the +middle of the room. + +In the meantime, his father and mother had both written to his +grandmother, telling her how Willie had been using his powers both of +invention and of labour to make room for her, and urging her to come and +live with them, for they were all anxious to have her to take care of. +But, in fact, small persuasion was necessary, for the old lady was only +too glad to accept the invitation; and before the warm weather of autumn +was over, she was ready to go to them. By this time Willie's room was +furnished. All the things from his former nest had been moved into it; +the bed with the chintz curtains, covered with strange flowers and +birds; the old bureau, with the many drawers inside the folding cover, +in which he kept all his little treasures; the table at which he read +books that were too big to hold, such as Raleigh's History of the World +and Josephus; the old oblong mirror that hung on the wall, with an +outspread gilt eagle at the top of it; the big old arm-chair that had +belonged to his great-grandfather, who wrote his sermons in it--for all +the things the boy had about him were old, and in all his after-life +he never could bear new furniture. And now his grandmother's furniture +began to appear; and a great cart-load of it from her best bedroom was +speedily arranged in Willie's late quarters, and as soon as they were +ready for her, Mrs Macmichael set out in a post-chaise to fetch her +mother. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +WILLIE'S GRANDMOTHER. + +Willie was in a state of excitement until she arrived, looking for +her as eagerly as if she had been a young princess. So few were the +opportunities of travelling between Priory Leas and the town where his +grandmother lived, that he had never seen her, and curiosity had its +influence as well as affection. Great, therefore, was his delight when +at last the chaise came round the corner of the street, and began to +draw up in order to halt at their door. The first thing he caught sight +of was a curious bonnet, like a black coal-scuttle upside down, inside +which, when it turned its front towards him, he saw a close-fitting +widow's cap, and inside that a kind old face, and if he could have +looked still further, he would have seen a kind young soul inside the +kind old face. She smiled sweetly when she saw him, but was too tired to +take any further notice of him until she had had tea. + +During that meal Willie devoted himself to a silent waiting upon her, +watching and trying to anticipate her every want. When she had eaten a +little bread and butter and an egg, and drunk two cups of tea, she lay +back in her own easy chair, which had been placed for her by the side +of the parlour fire, and fell fast asleep for ten minutes, breathing so +gently that Willie got frightened, and thought she was dead. But all at +once she opened her eyes wide, and made a sign to him to come to her. + +"Sit down there," she said, pushing a little footstool towards him. + +Willie obeyed, and sat looking up in her face. + +"So," she said, "you're the little man that can do everything?" + +"No, grannie," answered Willie, laughing. "I wish I could; but I am only +learning to do a few things; and there's not one of them I can do right +yet." + +"Do you know what they call you?" + +"The boys at school call me Six-fingered Jack," said Willie. + +"There!" said his grandmother. "I told you so." + +"I'm glad it's only a nickname, grannie; but if it weren't, it would +soon be one, for I'm certain the finger that came after the little one +would be so much in the way it would soon get cut off." + +"Anyhow, supposing you only half as clever a fellow as you pass for, I +want to try you. Have you any objection to service? I should like to +hire you for my servant--my own special servant, you understand." + +"All right, grannie; here I am!" cried Willie, jumping up. "What shall I +do first?" + +"Sit down again instantly, and wait till we've finished the bargain. I +must first have you understand that though I don't want to be hard upon +you, you must come when I call you, and do what I tell you." + +"Of course, grannie. Only I can't when I'm at school, you know." + +"I don't want to be told that. And I'm not going to be a tyrant. But +I had no idea you were such a silly! For all your cleverness, you've +positively never asked me what wages I would give you." + +"Oh! I don't want any wages, grannie. I _like_ to do things for people; +and you're my very own grandmother, besides, you know." + +"Well, I suppose I must settle your wages for you. I mean to pay you +by the job. It's an odd arrangement for a servant, but it will suit +me best. And as you don't ask any, I needn't pay you more than I like +myself." + +"Certainly not, grannie. I'm quite satisfied." + +"Meantime, no engagement of a servant ought to be counted complete +without earnest." + +"I'm quite in earnest, grannie," said Willie, who did not know the +meaning of the word as his new mistress used it. They all laughed. + +"I don't see what's funny," said Willie, laughing too, however. + +But when they explained to him what _earnest_ meant, then he laughed +with understanding, as well as with good will. + +"So," his grandmother went on, "I will give you earnest, which, you +know, binds you my servant. But for how long, Willie?" + +"Till you're tired of me, grannie. Only, you know, I'm papa and mamma's +servant first, and you may have to arrange with them sometimes; for what +should I do if you were all to want me at once?" + +"We'll easily manage that. I'll arrange with them, as you say. And now, +here's your earnest." + +As she spoke, she put into his hand what Willie took to be a shilling. +But when he glanced at it, he found himself mistaken. + +"Thank you, grannie," he said, trying not to show himself a little +disappointed, for he had had another scheme in his head some days, and +the shilling would have been everything towards that. + +"Do you know what grannie has given you, Willie?" said his mother. + +"Yes, mother--such a pretty brass medal!" + +"Show it me, dear. Why, Willie! it's no brass medal, child;--it's a +sovereign!" + +"No-o-o-o! Is it? O grannie!" he cried, and went dancing about the room, +as if he would actually fly with delight. + +Willie had never seen a sovereign, for that part of the country was then +like Holland--you never saw gold money there. To get it for him, his +grandmother had had to send to the bank in the county town. + +After this she would often give him sixpence or a shilling, and +sometimes even a half-crown when she asked him to do anything she +thought a little harder than usual; so that Willie had now plenty of +money with which to carry out his little plans. When remonstrated with +by her daughter for giving him so much, his grandmother would say-- + +"Look how the boy spends it!--always _doing_ something with it! He never +wastes it on sweets--not he!--My Willie's above that!" + +The old lady generally spoke of him as if she were the chief if not the +sole proprietor of the boy. + +"I'm sure I couldn't do better with it," she would add; "and that you'll +see when he comes to be a man. He'll be the making of you all." + +"But, mother, you can't afford it." + +"How do you know that? I can afford it very well. I've no house-rent to +pay; and I am certain it is the very best return I can make you for your +kindness. What I do for Willie will prove to have been done for us all." + +Certainly Willie's grandmother showed herself a very wise old lady. The +wisest old ladies are always those with young souls looking out of their +eyes. And few things pleased Willie more than waiting upon her. He had +a passion for being useful, and as his grandmother needed his help more +than any one else, her presence in the house was an endless source of +pleasure to him. + +But his father grew anxious. He did not like her giving Willie so much +money--not that he minded Willie having or spending the money, for he +believed that the spending would keep the having from hurting him; but +he feared lest through her gifts the purity of the boy's love for his +grandmother might be injured, and the service which at first had looked +only to her as its end might degenerate into a mere serving of her for +the sake of her shillings. + +He had, therefore, a long talk with her about it. She was indignant at +the notion of the least danger of spoiling Willie, but so anxious +to prove there was none that she agreed to the test proposed by his +father--which was, to drop all money transactions between them for a few +months, giving Willie no reason for the change. Grannie, however, being +in word and manner, if possible, still kinder to him than ever--and no +wonder, seeing she could no more, for the present, let her love out at +her pocket-hole--and Willie having, therefore, no anxiety lest he should +have displeased her, he soon ceased to think even of the change; except, +indeed, sometimes when he wanted a little money very much, and then +he would say to himself that he was afraid poor grannie had been too +liberal at first, and had spent all her money upon him; therefore +he must try to be the more attentive to her now. So the result +was satisfactory; and the more so that, for all her boasting, his +grandmother had not been able to help trembling a little, half with +annoyance, half with anxiety, as she let the first few of his services +pass without the customary acknowledgment. + +"There!" she said one day, at length, triumphantly, to Mr Macmichael; +"what do you think of my Willie now? Three months over and gone, and +where are your fears? I hope you will trust my judgment a little better +after this." + +"I'm very glad, anyhow, you put him to the trial," said his father. "It +will do him good." + +"He wants less of that than most people, Mr Macmichael--present company +_not_ excepted," said the old lady, rather nettled, but pretending to be +more so than she really was. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +HYDRAULICS. + +The first thing Willie did, after getting his room all to himself, was +to put hinges on the windows and make them open, so satisfying his +father as to the airiness of the room. Finding himself then, as it were, +in a house of his own, he began to ask his friends in the village to +come and see him in his new quarters. The first who did so was Mrs +Wilson, and Mr Spelman followed. Hector Macallaster was unwell, and it +was a month before he was able to go; but the first day he could he +crawled up the hill to the Ruins, and then up the little winding stair +to Willie's nest. The boy was delighted to see him, made him sit in his +great arm-chair, and, as the poor man was very tired with the exertion, +would have run to the house to get him something; but Hector begged +for a little water, and declared he could take nothing else. Therefore +Willie got a tumbler from his dressing-table, and went to the other side +of the room. Hector, hearing a splashing and rushing, turned round to +look, and saw him with one hand in a small wooden trough that ran along +the wall, and with the other holding the tumbler in a stream of water +that fell from the side of the trough into his bath. When the tumbler +was full, he removed his hand from the trough, and the water ceased to +overflow. He carried the tumbler to Hector, who drank, and said the +water was delicious. + +Hector could not imagine how the running water had got there, and Willie +had to tell him what I am now going to tell my reader. His grandmother's +sovereign and his own hydraulics had brought it there. + +He had been thinking for some time what a pleasure it would be to have a +stream running through his room, and how much labour it would save poor +old Tibbie; for it was no light matter for her old limbs to carry all +the water for his bath up that steep narrow winding stair to his room. +He reasoned that as the well rose and overflowed when its outlet was +stopped, it might rise yet farther if it were still confined; for its +source was probably in the heart of one of the surrounding hills, and +water when confined will always rise as high as its source. Therefore, +after much meditation as to how it could be accomplished in the simplest +and least expensive manner, he set about it as follows. + +First of all he cleared away the floor about the well, and built up the +circular wall of it a foot or two higher, with stones picked from those +lying about, and with mortar which he made himself. By means of a +spirit-level, he laid the top layer of stones quite horizontal; and he +introduced into it several blocks of wood instead of stones. + +Next he made a small wooden frame, which, by driving spikes between the +stones, he fastened to the opening of the underground passage, so that a +well-fitting piece of board could move up and down in it, by means of a +projecting handle, and be a more manageable sluice than he had hitherto +had. + +Then he made a strong wooden lid to the mouth of the well, and screwed +it down to the wooden blocks he had built in. Through a hole in it, just +large enough, came the handle of the sluice. + +Next, in the middle of the cover, he made a hole with a brace and +centre-bit, and into it drove the end of a strong iron pipe, fitting +tight, and long enough to reach almost to the top of the vault. As soon +as this was fixed he shut down the sluice, and in a few seconds the +water was falling in sheets upon him, and flooding the floor, dashed +back from the vault, against which it rushed from the top of the pipe. +This was enough for the present; he raised the sluice and let the water +escape again below. It was plain, from the force with which the water +struck the vault, that it would yet rise much higher. + +He scrambled now on the top of the vault, and, examining the ruins, soon +saw how a pipe brought up through the breach in the vault could be led +to the hole in the wall of his room which he had shown his father as a +ventilator. But he would not have a close pipe running through his room. +There would be little good in that. He could have made a hole in it, +with a stopper, to let the water out when he wanted to use it, but that +would be awkward, while all the pleasure lay in seeing the water as it +ran. Therefore he got Mr Spelman to find him a long small pine tree, +which he first sawed in two, lengthways, and hollowed into two troughs; +then, by laying the small end of one into the wide end of the other, he +had a spout long enough to reach across the room, and go through the +wall on both sides. + +The chief difficulty was to pierce the other wall, for the mortar was +very hard. The stones, however, just there were not very large, and, +with Sandy's help, he managed it. + +The large end of one trough was put through the ventilator-hole, and the +small end of the other through the hole opposite; their second ends met +in the middle, the one lying into the other, and were supported at the +juncture by a prop. + +They filled up the two openings round the ends with lime and small +stones, making them as tidy as they could, and fitting small slides by +which Willie could close up the passages for the water when he pleased. +Nothing remained but to solder a lead pipe into the top of the iron one, +guide this flexible tube across the ups and downs of the ruins, and lay +the end of it into the trough. + +At length Willie took his stand at the sluice, and told Sandy to +scramble up to the end of the lead pipe, and shout when the water began +to pour into the trough. His object was to find how far the sluice +required to be shut down in order to send up just as much water as the +pipe could deliver. More than that would cause a pressure which might +strain, and perhaps burst, their apparatus. + +He pushed the sluice down a little, and waited a moment. + +"Is it coming yet, Sandy?" he cried. + +"Not a drop," shouted Sandy. + +Willie pushed it a little further, and then knew by the change in the +gurgle below that the water was rising in the well; and it soon began to +spout from the hole in the cover through which the sluice-handle came +up. + +"It's coming," cried Sandy, after a pause; "not much, though." + +Down went the sluice a little further still. + +"It's pouring," echoed the voice of Sandy amongst the ruins; "as much as +ever the pipe can give. Its mouth is quite full." + +Willie raised the sluice a little. + +"How is it now?" he bawled. + +"Less," cried Sandy. + +So Willie pushed it back to where it had been last, and made a notch in +the handle to know the right place again. + +So the water from the Prior's Well went careering through Willie's +bed-chamber, a story high. When he wanted to fill his bath, he had only +to stop the run with his hand, and it poured over the sides into it; +so that Tibbie was to be henceforth relieved of a great labour, while +Willie's eyes were to be delighted with the vision, and his ears with +the sounds of the water scampering through his room. + +An hour or so after, as he was finishing off something about the mouth +of the well, he heard his father calling him. + +"Willie, Willie," he shouted, "is this any more of your kelpie work?" + +"What is it, father?" cried Willie, as he came bounding to him. + +He needed no reply when he saw a great pool of water about the back +door, fed by a small stream from the direction of the woodhouse. Tibbie +had come out, and was looking on in dismay. + +"That's Willie again, sir," she was saying. "You never can tell where +he'll be spouting that weary water at you." + + +[Illustration: TIBBIE, LOOKING ON IN DISMAY, SAID, "THAT'S WILLIE +AGAIN."] + + +The whole place'll be bog before long, and we'll be all turned into +frogs, and have nothing to do but croak. That well 'll be the ruin of us +all with cold and coughs." + +"You'll be glad enough of it to-night, Tibbie," said Willie, laughing +prophetically. + +"A likely story!" she returned, quite cross. "It'll be into the house if +you don't stop it." + +"I'll soon do that," said Willie. + +Neither he nor Sandy had thought what would become of the water after it +had traversed the chamber. There it was pouring down from the end of the +wooden spout, just clearing the tarred roof of the spiral stair, and +plashing on the ground close to the foot of it; in their eagerness they +had never thought of where it would run to next. And now Willie was +puzzled. Nothing was easier than to stop it for the present, which of +course he ran at once to do; but where was he to send it? + +Thinking over it, however, he remembered that just on the other side of +the wall was the stable where his father's horses lived, close to the +parson's garden; and in the corner, at the foot of the wall, was a +drain; so that all he had to do was to fit another spout to this, at +right angles to it, and carry it over the wall. + +"You needn't take any water up for me tonight, Tibby," he said, as he +went in to supper, for he had already filled his bath. + +"Nonsense, Willie," returned Tibbie, still out of temper because of the +mess at the door. "Your papa says you must have your bath, and my poor +old bones must ache for 't." + +"The bath's filled already. If you put in one other pailful, it'll run +over when I get into it." + +"Now, don't you play tricks with _me_, Willie. I won't have any more of +your joking," returned Tibbie. + +Nettled at the way she took the information with which he had hoped to +please her, he left her to carry up her pail of water; but it was the +last, and she thanked him very kindly the next day. + +The only remaining question was how to get rid of the bath-water. But +he soon contrived a sink on the top step of the stair outside the door, +which was a little higher than the wall of the stable-yard. From there a +short pipe was sufficient to carry that water also over into the drain. + +I may mention, that although a severe winter followed, the Prior's Well +never froze; and that, as they were always either empty, or full of +_running_ water, the pipes never froze, and consequently never burst. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +HECTOR HINTS AT A DISCOVERY. + +The next day after Hector's visit, Willie went to see how he was, and +found him better. + +"I certainly am better," he said, "and what's more, I've got a strange +feeling it was that drink of water you gave me yesterday that has done +it. I'm coming up to have some more of it in the evening, if you'll give +it me." + +"As much of it as _you_ can drink, Hector, anyhow," said Willie. "You +won't drink _my_ cow dry." + +"I wonder if it could be the water," said Hector, musingly. + +"My father says people used to think it cured them. That was some +hundreds of years ago; but if it did so then, I don't see why it +shouldn't now. My mother is certainly better, but whether that began +since we found the well, I can't be very sure. For Tibbie--she is always +drinking at it, she says it does her a world of good." + +"I've read somewhere," said the shoemaker, "that wherever there's a hurt +there's a help; and when I was a boy, and stung myself with a nettle, I +never had far to look for a dock-stalk with its juice. Who knows but +the Prior's Well may be the cure for me? It can't straighten my back, +I know, but it may make me stronger for all that, and fitter for the +general business." + +"I will lay down a pipe for you, if you like, Hector, and then you can +drink as much of the water as you please, without asking anybody," said +Willie. + +Hector laughed. + +"It's not such a sure thing," he replied, "as to be worth that trouble; +and besides, the walk does me good, and a drink once or twice a day is +enough--that is, if your people won't think me a trouble, coming so +often." + +"There's no fear of that," said Willie; "it's our business, you know, to +try to cure people. I'll tell you what--couldn't you bring up a bit of +your work, and sit in my room sometimes? It's better air there than down +here." + +"You're very kind, indeed, Willie. We'll see. Meantime, I'll come up +morning and evening, and have a drink of the water, as long at least +as the warm weather lasts, and by that time I shall be pretty certain +whether it is doing me good or not." + +So Hector went on drinking the water and getting a little better. + +Next, grannie took to it, and, either from imagination, or that it +really did her good, declared it was renewing her youth. All the doctor +said on the matter was, that the salts it contained could do no one any +harm, and might do some people much good; that there was iron in it, +which was strengthening, and certain ingredients besides, which might +possibly prevent the iron from interfering with other functions of the +system. He said he should not be at all surprised if, some day or other, +it regained its old fame as a well of healing. + +Mr Spelman, in consequence of a talk he had with Hector, having induced +his wife to try it, she also soon began to think it was doing her good. +Beyond these I have now mentioned, no one paid any attention to the +Prior's Well or its renascent reputation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +HOW WILLIE WENT ON. + +As soon as Willie began a new study, he began trying to get at the sense +of it. This caused his progress to be slow at first, and him to appear +dull amongst those who merely learned by rote; but as he got a hold of +the meaning of it all, his progress grew faster and faster, until at +length in most studies he outstripped all the rest. + +I need hardly repeat that the constant exercise of his mind through his +fingers, in giving a second existence outside of him to what had its +first existence inside him--that is, in his mind, made it far easier for +him to understand the relations of things that go to make up a science. +A boy who could put a box together must find Euclid easier--the Second +Book particularly--than one who had no idea of the practical relations +of the boundaries of spaces; one who could contrive a machine like his +water-wheel, must be able to understand the interdependence of the parts +of a sentence better than one equally gifted otherwise, but who did not +know how one wheel could move another. Everything he did would help his +arithmetic, and geography, and history; and these and those and all +things besides, would help him to understand poetry. + +In his Latin sentences he found the parts fit into each other like +dove-tailing; finding the terms of equations, he said, was like +inventing machines, and he soon grew clever at solving them. It was not +from his manual abilities alone that his father had given him the name +of Gutta-Percha Willie, but from the fact that his mind, once warmed to +interest, could accommodate itself to the peculiarities of any science, +just as the gutta-percha which is used for taking a mould fits itself to +the outs and ins of any figure. + +He still employed his water-wheel to pull him out of bed in the middle +of the night. He had, of course, to make considerable alterations in, or +rather additions to, its machinery, after changing his bed-room, for it +had then to work in a direction at right angles to the former; but this +he managed perfectly. + +It is well for Willie's reputation with a certain, and that not a small +class of readers, that there was something even they would call useful +in several of his inventions and many of his efforts; in his hydraulics, +for instance, by means of which he saved old Tibby's limbs; in his +house-building, too, by means of which they were able to take in +grannie; and, for a long time now, he had been doing every little repair +wanted in the house. If a lock went wrong, he would have it off at once +and taken to pieces. If less would not do, he carried it to the smithy, +but very seldom troubled Mr Willett about it, for he had learned to do +small jobs, and to heat and work and temper a piece of iron within his +strength as well as any man. His mother did not much like this part +of his general apprenticeship, for he would get his hands so black +sometimes on a Saturday afternoon that he could not get them clean +enough for church the next day; and sometimes he would come home with +little holes burnt here and there in his clothes by the sparks from the +red-hot iron when beaten on the anvil. Concerning this last evil, +she spoke at length to Hector, who made him a leather apron, like Mr +Willett's, which thereafter he always wore when he had a job to do in +the smithy. + +It is well, I say, that the utility of such of his doings as these will +be admitted by all; for some other objects upon which he spent much +labour would, by most people, be regarded as utterly useless. Few, for +instance, would allow there was any value in a water-wheel which could +grind no corn, and was of service only to wake him in the middle of the +night--not for work, not for the learning of a single lesson, but only +that he might stare out of the window for a while, and then get into bed +again. For my part, nevertheless, I think it a most useful contrivance. +For all lovely sights tend to keep the soul pure, to lift the heart +up to God, and above, not merely what people call low cares, but what +people would call reasonable cares, although our great Teacher teaches +us that such cares are unjust towards our Father in Heaven. More than +that, by helping to keep the mind calm and pure, they help to keep the +imagination, which is the source of all invention, active, and the +judgment, which weighs all its suggestions, just. Whatever is beautiful +is of God, and it is only ignorance or a low condition of heart and soul +that does not prize what is beautiful. If I had a choice between two +mills, one that would set fine dinners on my table, and one that would +show me lovely sights in earth and sky and sea, I know which I should +count the more useful. + +Perhaps there is not so much to be said for the next whim of Willie's; +but a part at least of what I have just written will apply to it also. + +What put it in his head I am not sure, but I think it was two things +together--seeing a soaring lark radiant with the light of the unrisen +sun, and finding in a corner of Spelman's shop a large gilt ball which +had belonged to an old eight-day clock he had bought. The passage in +which he set it up was so low that he had to remove the ornaments from +the top of it, but this one was humbled that it might be exalted. + +The very sight of it set Willie thinking what he could do with it; for +he not only meditated how to do a thing, but sometimes what to make a +thing do. Nor was it long ere he made up his mind, and set about a huge +kite, more than six feet high--a great strong monster, with a tail of +portentous length--to the top of the arch of which he attached the +golden ball. Then he bought a quantity of string, and set his wheel to +call him up an hour before sunrise. + +One morning was too still, another too cloudy, and a third wet; but at +last came one clear and cool, with a steady breeze which sent the leaves +of the black poplars all one way. He dressed with speed, and, taking his +kite and string, set out for a grass field belonging to Farmer Thomson, +where he found most of the daisies still buttoned up in sleep, their red +tips all together, as tight and close as the lips of a baby that won't +take what is offered it--as if they never meant to have anything more to +do with the sun, and would never again show him the little golden sun +they had themselves inside of them. In a few minutes the kite had begun +to soar, slowly and steadily, then faster and faster, until at length it +was towering aloft, tugging and pulling at the string, which he could +not let out fast enough. He kept looking up after it intently as it +rose, when suddenly a new morning star burst out in golden glitter. It +was the gilt ball; it saw the sun. The glory which, striking on the +heart of the lark, was there transmuted into song, came back from the +ball, after its kind, in glow and gleam. He danced with delight, and +shouted and sang his welcome to the resurrection of the sun, as he +watched his golden ball alone in the depth of the air. + +He never thought of any one hearing him, nor was it likely that any one +in the village would be up yet. He was therefore a good deal surprised +when he heard the sweet voice of Mona Shepherd behind him; and turning, +saw her running to him bare-headed, with her hair flying in the wind. + +"Willie! Willie!" she was crying, half-breathless with haste and the +buffeting of the breeze. + +"Well, Mona, who would have thought of seeing you out so early?" + +"Mayn't a girl get up early, as well as a boy? It's not like climbing +walls and trees, you know, though I can't see the harm of that either." + +"No more can I," said Willie, "if they're not too difficult, you know. +But what brought you out now? Do you want me?" + +"Mayn't I stop with you? I saw you looking up, and I looked up too, and +then I saw something flash; and I dressed as hard as I could, and ran +out. Are you catching the lightning?" + +"No," said Willie; "something better than the lightning--the sunlight." + +"Is that all?" said Mona, disappointed. + +"Why, Mona, isn't the sunlight a better thing than the lightning?" said +philosophical Willie. + +"Yes, I dare say; but you can have it any time." + +"That only makes it the more valuable. But it's not quite true when you +think of it. You can't have it now, except from my ball." + +"Oh, yes, I can," cried Mona; "for there he comes himself." + +And there, to be sure, was the first blinding arc of the sun rising over +the eastern hill. Both of them forgot the kite, and turned to watch the +great marvel of the heavens, throbbing and pulsing like a sea of flame. +When they turned again to the kite they could see the golden ball no +longer. Its work was over; it had told them the sun was coming, and now, +when the sun was come, it was not wanted any more. Willie began to draw +in his string and roll it up on its stick, slowly pulling down to the +earth the soaring sun-scout he had sent aloft for the news. He had never +flown anything like such a large kite before, and he found it difficult +to reclaim. + +"Will you take me out with you next time, Willie?" asked Mona, +pleadingly. "I do so like to be out in the morning, when the wind is +blowing, and the clouds are flying about. I wonder why everybody doesn't +get up to see the sun rise. Don't you think it is well worth seeing?" + +"That I do." + +"Then you will let me come with you? I like it so much better when you +are with me. Janet spoils it all." + +Janet was her old nurse, who seemed to think the main part of her duty +was to check Mona's enthusiasm. + +"I will," said Willie, "if your papa has no objection." + +Mona did not even remember her mamma. She had died when she was such a +little thing. + +"Come and ask him, then," said Mona. + +So soon as he had secured Sun-scout, as he called his kite with the +golden head, she took his hand to lead him to her father. + +"He won't be up yet," said Willie. + +"Oh, yes, long ago," cried Mona. "He's always up first in the house, and +as soon as he's dressed he calls me. He'll be at breakfast by this time, +and wondering what can have become of me." + +So Willie went with her, and there was Mr Shepherd, as she had said, +already seated at breakfast. + +"What have you been about, Mona, my child?" he asked, as soon as he had +shaken hands with Willie. + +"We've been helping the sun to rise," said Mona, merrily. + +"No, no," said Willie; "we've only been having a peep at him in bed, +before he got up." + +"Oh, yes," chimed in Mona. "And he was so fast asleep!--and snoring," +she added, with a comical expression and tone, as if it were a thing not +to be mentioned save as a secret. + +But Willie did not like the word, and her father was of the same mind. + +"No, no," said Mr Shepherd; "that's not respectful, Mona. I don't like +you to talk that way, even in fun, of the great light of the earth. +There are more good reasons for objecting to it than you would quite +understand yet. Willie would not talk like that, I am sure. Tell me what +you have been about, my boy." + +Willie explained the whole matter, and asked if he might call Mona the +next time he went out with his kite in the morning. + +Mr Shepherd consented at once; and Mona said he had only to call from +his window into their garden, and she would be sure to hear him even if +she was asleep. + +The next thing Willie did was to construct a small windlass in the +garden, with which to wind up or let out the string of the kite; and +when the next fit morning arrived, Mona and he went out together. The +wind blowing right through the garden, they did not go to the open +field, but sent up the kite from the windlass, and Mona was able by +means of the winch to let out the string, while Willie kept watching for +the moment when the golden ball should catch the light. They did the +same for several mornings after, and Willie managed, with the master's +help, to calculate exactly the height to which the ball had flown when +first it gained a peep of the sun in bed. + +One windy evening they sent the kite up in the hope that it would fly +till the morning; but the wind fell in the night, and when the sun came +near there was no golden ball in the air to greet him. So, instead of +rejoicing in its glitter far aloft, they had to set out, guided by the +string, to find the fallen Lucifer. The kite was of small consequence, +but the golden ball Willie could not replace. Alas! that very evening he +had added a great length of string--so much, that when the wind ceased +the kite could just reach the river, into which it fell; and when the +searchers at length drew Sun-scout from the water they found his glory +had departed; the golden ball had been beaten and ground upon the stones +of the stream, and never more did they send him climbing up the heavens +to welcome the lord of day. + +Indeed, it was many years before Willie flew a kite again, for, after a +certain conversation with his grandmother, he began to give a good +deal more time to his lessons than hitherto; and while his recreations +continued to be all of a practical sort, his reading was mostly such as +prepared him for college. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +WILLIE'S TALK WITH HIS GRANDMOTHER. + +One evening in winter, when he had been putting coals on his grannie's +fire, she told him to take a chair beside her, as she wanted a little +talk with him. He obeyed her gladly. + +"Well, Willie," she said, "what would you like to be?" + +Willie had just been helping to shoe a horse at the smithy, and, in +fact, had driven one of the nails--an operation perilous to the horse. +Full of the thing which had last occupied him, he answered without a +moment's hesitation-- + +"I should like to be a blacksmith, grannie." + +The old lady smiled. She had seen more black on Willie's hands than +could have come from the coals, and judged from that and his answer that +he had just come from the smithy. + +An unwise grandmother, had she wished to turn him from the notion, would +have started an objection at once--probably calling it a dirty trade, or +a dangerous trade, or a trade that the son of a professional man could +not be allowed to follow; but Willie's grandmother knew better, and went +on talking about the thing in the quietest manner. + +"It's a fine trade," she said; "thorough manly work, and healthy, +I believe, notwithstanding the heat. But why would you take to it, +Willie?" + +Willie fell back on his principles, and thought for a minute. + +"Of course, if I'm to be any good at all I must have a hand in what +Hector calls the general business of the universe, grannie." + +"To be sure; and that, as a smith, you would have; but why should you +choose to be a smith rather than anything else in the world?" + +"Because--because--people can't get on without horse-shoes, and ploughs +and harrows, and tires for cart-wheels, and locks, and all that. It +would help people very much if I were a smith." + +"I don't doubt it. But if you were a mason you could do quite as much to +make them comfortable; you could build them houses." + +"Yes, I could. It would be delightful to build houses for people. I +should like that." + +"It's very hard work," said his grandmother. "Only you wouldn't mind +that, I know, Willie." + +"No man minds hard work," said Willie. "I think I should like to be a +mason; for then, you see, I should be able to look at what I had done. +The ploughs and carts would go away out of sight, but the good houses +would stand where I had built them, and I should be able to see how +comfortable the people were in them. I should come nearer to the people +themselves that way with my work. Yes, grannie, I would rather be a +mason than a smith." + +"A carpenter fits up the houses inside," said his grandmother. "Don't +you think, with his work, he comes nearer the people that live in it +than the mason does?" + +"To be sure," cried Willie, laughing. "People hardly see the mason's +work, except as they're coming up to the door. I know more about +carpenter's work too. _Yes_, grannie, I have settled now; I'll be a +carpenter--there!" cried Willie, jumping up from his seat. "If it hadn't +been for Mr Spelman, I don't see how we could have had _you_ with us, +grannie. Think of that!" + +"Only, if you had been a tailor or a shoemaker, you would have come +still nearer to the people themselves." + +"I don't know much about tailoring," returned Willie. "I could stitch +well enough, but I couldn't cut out. I could soon be a shoemaker, +though. I've done everything wanted in a shoe or a boot with my own +hands already; Hector will tell you so. I could begin to be a shoemaker +to-morrow. That is nearer than a carpenter. Yes." + +"I was going to suggest," said his grannie, "that there's a kind of work +that goes yet nearer to the people it helps than any of those. But, of +course, if you've made up your mind"-- + +"Oh no, grannie! I don't mean it so much as that--if there's a better +way, you know. Tell me what it is." + +"I want you to think and find out." + +Willie thought, looked puzzled, and said he couldn't tell what it was. + +"Then you must think a little longer," said his grandmother. "And now go +and wash your hands." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIX. + + +A TALK WITH Mr SHEPHERD. + +In a few minutes Willie came rushing back from his room, with his hands +and face half wet and half dry. + +"Grannie! grannie!" he panted--"what a stupid I am! How can a body be so +stupid! Of course you mean a doctor's work! My father comes nearer to +people to help them than anybody else can--and yet I never thought what +you meant. How is it you can know a thing and not know it at the same +moment?" + +"Well, now you've found what I meant, what do you think of it?" said his +grandmother. + +"Why, of course, it's the best of all. When I was a little fellow, I +used to think I should be a doctor some day, but I don't feel quite so +sure of it now. Do you really think, grannie, I _could_ be a doctor like +papa? You see that wants such a good head--and--and--everything." + +"Yes; it does want a good head and everything. But you've got a good +enough head to begin with, and it depends on yourself to make it a +better one. So long as people's hearts keep growing better, their heads +do the same. I think you have every faculty for the making of a good +doctor in you." + +"Do you really think so, grannie?" cried Willie, delighted. + +"I do indeed." + +"Then I shall ask papa to teach me." + +But Willie did not find his papa quite ready to take him in hand. + +"No, Willie," he said. "You must learn a great many other things before +it would be of much use for me to commence my part. I will teach you if +you like, after school-hours, to compound certain medicines; but the +important thing is to get on at school. You are quite old enough now +to work at home too; and though I don't want to confine you to your +lessons, I should like you to spend a couple of hours at them every +evening. You can have the remainders of the evenings, all the mornings +before breakfast, and the greater parts of your half-holidays, for +whatever you like to do of another sort." + +Willie never required any urging to what his father wished. He became at +once more of a student, without becoming much less of a workman--for he +found plenty of time to do all he wanted, by being more careful of his +odd moments. + +One lovely evening in spring, when the sun had gone down and left the +air soft, and balmy, and full of the scents which rise from the earth +after a shower, and the odours of the buds which were swelling and +bursting in all directions, Willie was standing looking out of his open +window into the parson's garden, when Mr Shepherd saw him and called to +him-- + +"Come down here, Willie," he said. "I want to have a little talk with +you." + +Willie got on the wall from the top of his stair, dropped into the +stable-yard, which served for the parson's pony as well as the Doctor's +two horses, and thence passed into Mr Shepherd's garden, where the two +began to walk up and down together. + +The year was like a child waking up from a sleep into which he had +fallen crying. Its life was returning to it, fresh and new. It was as if +God were again drawing nigh to His world. All the winter through He had +never left it, only had, as it were, been rolling it along the path +before Him; but now had taken it up in His hand, and was carrying it for +a while; and that was how its birds were singing so sweetly, and its +buds were coming so blithely out of doors, and the wind blew so soft, +and the rain fell so repentantly, and the earth sent up such a gracious +odour. + +"The year is coming to itself again, Willie--growing busy once more," Mr +Shepherd said. + +"Yes," answered Willie. "It's been all but dead, and has come to life +again. It must have had the doctor to it." + +"Eh? What doctor, Willie?" + +"Well, you know, there is but One that could be doctor to this big +world." + +"Yes, surely," returned Mr Shepherd. "And that brings me to what I +wanted to talk to you about. I hear your father means to make a doctor +of you." + +"Yes. Isn't it good of him?" said Willie. + +"Then you would like it?" + +"Yes; that I should!" + +"Why would you like it?" + +"Because I _must_ have a hand in the general business." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +Willie set forth Hector Macallaster's way of thinking about such +matters. + +"Very good--very good indeed!" remarked Mr Shepherd. "But why, then, +should you prefer being a doctor to being a shoemaker? Is it because you +will get better paid for it?" + +"I never thought of that," returned Willie. "Of course I should be +better paid--for Hector couldn't keep a horse, and a horse I must have, +else some of my patients would be dead before I could get to them. +But that's not why I want to be a doctor. It's because I want to help +people." + +"What makes you want to help people?" + +"Because it's the best thing you can do with yourself." + +"Who told you that?" + +"I don't know. It seems as if everybody and everything had been teaching +me that, ever since I can remember." + +"Well, it's no wonder it should seem as if everything taught you that, +seeing that is what God is always doing--and what Jesus taught us as the +law of His kingdom--which is the only real kingdom--namely, that the +greatest man in it is he who gives himself the most to help other +people. It was because Jesus Himself did so--giving Himself up +utterly--that God has so highly exalted Him and given Him a name above +every name. And, indeed, if you are a good doctor, you will be doing +something of what Jesus did when He was in the world." + +"Yes; but He didn't give people medicine to cure them." + +"No; that wasn't necessary, because He was Himself the cure. But now +that He is not present with His bodily presence--now, medicine and +advice and other good things are just the packets in which He wraps up +the healing He sends; and the wisest doctor is but the messenger who +carries to the sick as much of healing and help as the Great Doctor sees +fit to send. For He is so anxious to cure thoroughly that in many cases +He will not cure all at once." + +"How I _should_ like to take His healing about!" cried Willie--"just as +the doctors' boys take the medicines about in baskets: grannie tells me +they do in the big towns. I _should_ like to be the Great Doctor's boy!" + +"You really think then," Mr Shepherd resumed, after a pause, "that a +doctor's is the best way of helping people?" + +"Yes, I do," answered Willie, decidedly. "A doctor, you see, comes +nearest to them with his help. It's not the outside of a man's body he +helps, but his inside health--how he feels, you know." + +Mr Shepherd again thought for a few moments. At length he said-- + +"What's the difference between your father's work and mine?" + +"A great difference, of course," replied Willie. + +"Tell me then what it is?" + +"I must think before I can do that," said Willie. "It's not so easy to +put things in words!--You very often go to help the same people: that's +something to start with." + +"But not to give them the same help." + +"No, not quite. And yet"-- + +"At least, I cannot write prescriptions or compound medicines for them, +seeing I know nothing about such things," said Mr Shepherd. "But, on +the other hand, though I can't give them medicine out of your papa's +basket, your papa very often gives them medicine out of mine." + +"That's a riddle, I suppose," said Willie. + +"No, it's not. How is it your papa can come so near people to help +them?" + +"He gives them things that make them well again." + +"What do they do with the things he gives them?" + +"They take them." + +"How?" + +"Put them in their mouths and swallow them." + +"Couldn't they take them at their ears?" + +"No," answered Willie, laughing. + +"Why not?" + +"Because their ears aren't meant for taking them." + +"Aren't their ears meant for taking anything, then?" + +"Only words." + +"Well, if one were to try, mightn't words be mixed so as to be +medicine?" + +"I don't see how." + +"If you were to take a few strong words, a few persuasive words, and +a few tender words, mightn't you mix them so--that is, so set them in +order--as to make them a good medicine for a sore heart, for instance?" + +"Ah! I see, I see! Yes, the medicine for the heart must go in at the +ears." + +"Not necessarily. It might go in at the eyes. Jesus gave it at the eyes, +for doubting hearts, when He said--Consider the lilies,--consider the +ravens." + +"At the ears, too, though," said Willie; "just as papa sometimes gives a +medicine to be taken and to be rubbed in both." + +"Only the ears could have done nothing with the words if the eyes hadn't +taken in the things themselves first. But where does this medicine go +to, Willie?" + +"I suppose it must go to the heart, if that's the place wants healing." + +"Does it go to what a doctor would call the heart, then?" + +"No, no; it must go to what--to what a clergyman--to what _you_ call the +heart." + +"And which heart is nearer to the person himself?" + +Willie thought for a moment, then answered, merrily--the doctor's +heart, to be sure!" + +"No, Willie; you're wrong there," said Mr Shepherd, looking, as he +felt, a little disappointed. + +"Oh yes, please!" said Willie; "I'm almost sure I'm right this time." + +"No, Willie; what the clergyman calls the heart is the nearest to the +man himself." + +"No, no," persisted Willie. "The heart you've got to do with _is_ the +man himself. So of course the doctor's heart is the nearer to the man." + +Mr Shepherd laughed a low, pleasant laugh. + +"You're quite right, Willie. You've got the best of it. I'm very +pleased. But then, Willie, doesn't it strike you that after all there +might be a closer way of helping men than the doctor's way?" + +Again Willie thought a while. + +"There would be," he said, at length, "if you could give them medicine +to make them happy when they are miserable." + +"Even the doctor can do a little at that," returned Mr Shepherd; "for +when in good health people are much happier than when they are ill." + +"If you could give them what would make them good when they are bad +then," said Willie. + +"Ah, there you have it!" rejoined Mr Shepherd. "That is the very closest +way of helping men." + +"But nobody can do that--nobody can make a bad man good--but God," said +Willie. + +"Certainly. But He uses medicines; and He sends people about with them, +just like the doctors' boys you were speaking of. What else am _I_ here +for? I've been carrying His medicines about for a good many years now." + +"Then _your_ work and not my father's comes nearest to people to help +them after all! My father's work, I see, doesn't help the very man +himself; it only helps his body--or at best his happiness: it doesn't go +deep enough to touch himself. But yours helps the very man. Yours is the +best after all." + +"I don't know," returned Mr Shepherd, thoughtfully. "It depends, I +think, on the kind of preparation gone through." + +"Oh yes!" said Willie. "You had to go through the theological classes. I +must of course take the medical." + +"That's true, but it's not true enough," said Mr Shepherd. "That +wouldn't make a fraction of the difference I mean. There's just one +preparation essential for a man who would carry about the best sort of +medicines. Can you think what it is? It's not necessary for the other +sort." + +"The man must be good," said Willie. "I suppose that's it." + +"That doesn't make the difference exactly," returned Mr Shepherd. "It +is as necessary for a doctor to be good as for a parson." + +"Yes," said Willie; "but though the doctor were a bad man, his medicines +might be good." + +"Not by any means so likely to be!" said the parson. "You can never be +sure that anything a bad man has to do with will be good. It may be, +because no man is all bad; but you can't be sure of it. We are coming +nearer it now. Mightn't the parson's medicines be good if he were bad +just as well as the doctor's?" + +"Less likely still, I think," said Willie. "The words might be all of +the right sort, but they would be like medicines that had lain in his +drawers or stood in his bottles till the good was all out of them." + +"You're coming very near to the difference of preparation I wanted to +point out to you," said Mr Shepherd. "It is this: that the physician of +men's _selves_, commonly called _souls_, must have taken and must keep +taking the medicine he carries about with him; while the less the doctor +wants of his the better." + +"I see, I see," cried Willie, whom a fitting phrase, or figure, or form +of expressing a thing, pleased as much as a clever machine--"I see! It's +all right! I understand now." + +"But," Mr Shepherd went on, "your father carries about both sorts of +medicines in his basket. He is such a healthy man that I believe he very +seldom uses any of his own medicines; but he is always taking some of +the other sort, and that's what makes him fit to carry them about. He +does far more good among the sick than I can. Many who don't like my +medicine, will yet take a little of it when your father mixes it with +his, as he has a wonderful art in doing. I hope, when your turn comes, +you will be able to help the very man himself, as your father does." + +"Do you want me to be a doctor of _your_ kind, Mr Shepherd?" + +"No. It is a very wrong thing to take up that basket without being told +by Him who makes the medicine. If He wants a man to do so, He will let +him know--He will call him and tell him to do it. But everybody ought to +take the medicine, for everybody needs it; and the happy thing is, +that, as soon as anyone has found how good it is--food and wine and all +upholding things in one--he becomes both able and anxious to give it to +others. If you would help people as much as your father does, you must +begin by taking some of the real medicine yourself." + +This conversation gave Willie a good deal to think about. And he had +much need to think about it, for soon after this he left his father's +house for the first time in his life, and went to a great town, to +receive there a little further preparation for college. The next year he +gained a scholarship, or, as they call it there, a _bursary_, and was at +once fully occupied with classics and mathematics, hoping, however, the +next year, to combine with them certain scientific studies bearing less +indirectly upon the duties of the medical man. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +HOW WILLIE DID HIS BEST TO MAKE A BIRD OF AGNES. + +During the time he was at college, he did often think of what Mr +Shepherd had said to him. When he was tempted to any self-indulgence, +the thought would always rise that this was not the way to become able +to help people, especially the real selves of them; and, when amongst +the medical students, he could not help thinking how much better doctors +some of them would make if they would but try the medicine of the other +basket for themselves. He thought this especially when he saw that they +cared nothing for their patients, neither had any desire to take a part +in the general business for the work's sake, but only wanted a practice +that they might make a living. For such are nearly as unfit to be +healers of the body, as mere professional clergymen to be healers of +broken hearts and wounded minds. To do a man good in any way, you must +sympathise with him--that is, know what he feels, and reflect the +feeling in your own mirror; and to be a good doctor, one must love to +heal; must honour the art of the physician and rejoice in it; must give +himself to it, that he may learn all of it that he can--from its root of +love to its branches of theory, and its leaves and fruits of healing. + +He always came home to Priory Leas for the summer intervals, when you +may be sure there was great rejoicing--loudest on the part of Agnes, +who was then his constant companion, as much so, at least, as she was +allowed. Willie saw a good deal of Mona Shepherd also, who had long been +set free from the oppressive charge of Janet, and was now under the care +of a governess, a wise, elderly lady; and as she was a great friend of +Mrs Macmichael, the two families were even more together now than they +had been in former years. + +Of course, while at college he had no time to work with his hands: all +his labour there must be with his head; but when he came home he had +plenty of time for both sorts. He spent a couple of hours before +breakfast in the study of physiology; after breakfast, another hour +or two either in the surgery, or in a part of the ruins which he had +roughly fitted up for a laboratory with a bench, a few shelves, and a +furnace. His father, however, did not favour his being in the latter for +a long time together; for young experimenters are commonly careless, and +will often neglect proper precautions--breathing, for instance, many +gases they ought not to breathe. He was so careful over Agnes, however, +that often he would not let her in at all; and when he did, he generally +confined himself to her amusement. He would show her such lovely +things!--for instance, liquids that changed from one gorgeous hue to +another; bubbles that burst into flame, and ascended in rings of +white revolving smoke; light so intense, that it seemed to darken the +daylight. Sometimes Mona would be of the party, and nothing pleased +Agnes or her better than such wonderful things as these; while Willie +found it very amusing to hear Agnes, who was sharp enough to pick up not +a few of the chemical names, dropping the big words from her lips as +if she were on the most familiar terms with the things they +signified--_phosphuretted hydrogen, metaphosphoric acid, +sesquiferrocyanide of iron_, and such like. + +Then he would give an hour to preparation for the studies of next term; +after which, until their early dinner, he would work at his bench or +turning-lathe, generally at something for his mother or grandmother; +or he would do a little mason-work amongst the ruins, patching and +strengthening, or even buttressing, where he thought there was most +danger of further fall--for he had resolved that, if he could help it, +not another stone should come to the ground. + +In this, his first summer at home from college, he also fitted up a +small forge--in a part of the ruins where there was a wide chimney, +whose vent ran up a long way unbroken. Here he constructed a pair of +great bellows, and set up an old anvil, which he bought for a trifle +from Mr Willett; and here his father actually trusted him to shoe his +horses; nor did he ever find a nail of Willie's driving require to be +drawn before the shoe had to give place to a new one. + +In the afternoon, he always read history, or tales, or poetry; and in +the evening did whatever he felt inclined to do--which brings me to what +occupied him the last hours of the daylight, for a good part of this +first summer. + +One lovely evening in June, he came upon Agnes, who was now eight years +old, lying under the largest elm of a clump of great elms and Scotch +firs at the bottom of the garden. They were the highest trees in all the +neighbourhood, and his father was very fond of them. To look up into +those elms in the summer time your eyes seemed to lose their way in a +mist of leaves; whereas the firs had only great, bony, bare, gaunt arms, +with a tuft of bristles here and there. But when a ray of the setting +sun alighted upon one of these firs it shone like a flamingo. It seemed +as if the surly old tree and the gracious sunset had some secret between +them, which, as often as they met, broke out in ruddy flame. + +Now Agnes was lying on the thin grass under this clump of trees, looking +up into their mystery--and--what else do you think she was doing?--She +was sucking her thumb--her custom always when she was thoughtful; and +thoughtful she seemed now, for the tears were in her eyes. + +"What is the matter with my pet?" said Willie. + +But instead of jumping up and flinging her arms about him, she only +looked at him, gave a little sigh, drew her thumb from her mouth, +pointed with it up into the tree, and said, "I can't get up there! I +wish I was a bird," and put her thumb in her mouth again. + +"But if you were a bird, you wouldn't be a girl, you know, and you +wouldn't like that," said Willie--"at least _I_ shouldn't like it." + +"_I_ shouldn't mind. I would rather have wings and fly about in the +trees." + +"If you had wings you couldn't have arms." + +"I'd rather have wings." + +"If you were a bird up there, you would be sure to wish you were a girl +down here. For if you were a bird you couldn't lie in the grass and look +up into the tree." + +"Oh yes, I could." + +"What a comical little bird you would look then--lying on your little +round feathery back, with wings spread out to keep you from rolling +over, and little sparkling eyes, one on each side of such a long beak, +staring up into the tree!--Miaw! Miaw! Here comes the cat to eat you +up!" + +Agnes sprang to her feet in terror, and rushed to Willie. She had so +fully fancied herself a bird that the very mention of the cat had filled +her with horror. Once more she took her thumb from her mouth to give a +little scream, and did not put it in again. + +"O Willie! you frightened me so!" she said--joining, however, in his +laugh. + +"Poor birdie!" said Willie. "Did the naughty puss frighten it? Stwoke +its fedders den.--Stwoke it--stwoke it," he continued, smoothing down +her hair. + +"But _wouldn't_ it be nice," persisted Agnes, "to be so tall as the +birds can make themselves with their wings? Fancy having your head +up there in the green leaves--so cool! and hearing them all whisper, +whisper, about your ears, and being able to look down on people's heads, +you know, Willie! I do wish I was a bird! I do!" + +But with Willie to comfort and play with her, she soon forgot her +soaring ambition. Willie, however, did not forget it. If Agnes wished +to enjoy the privacy of the leaves up in the height of the trees, why +shouldn't she? At least, why shouldn't she if he could help her to it. +Certainly he couldn't change her arms into wings, or cover her with +feathers, or make her bones hollow so that the air might get all through +her, even into her quills; but he could get her up into the tree, and +even something more, perhaps. He would see about it--that is, he would +think about it, for how it was to be done he did not yet see. + +Long ago, almost the moment he arrived, he had set his wheel in order, +and got his waking-machine into working trim. And now more than ever he +enjoyed being pulled out of bed in the middle of the night--especially +in the fine weather; for then, in that hushed hour when the night is +just melting into the morn, and the earth looks as if she were losing +her dreams, yet had not begun to recognise her own thoughts, he would +not unfrequently go out into the garden, and wander about for a few +thoughtful minutes. + +The same night, when his wheel pulled him, he rose and went out into +the garden. The night was at odds with morning which was which. An +occasional bat would flit like a doubtful shadow across his eyes, but a +cool breath of air was roaming about as well, which was not of the night +at all, but plainly belonged to the morning. He wandered to the bottom +of the garden--to the clump of trees, lay down where Agnes had been +lying the night before, and thought and thought until he felt in himself +how the child had felt when she longed to be a bird. What could he do +to content her? He knew every bough of the old trees himself, having +scrambled over them like a squirrel scores of times; but even if he +could get Agnes up the bare bole of an elm or fir, he could not trust +her to go scrambling about the branches. On the other hand, wherever he +could go, he could surely somehow help Agnes to go. Having gathered a +thought or two, he went back to bed. + +The very next evening he set to work and spent the whole of that and the +following at his bench, planing, and shaping, and generally preparing +for a construction, the plan of which was now clear in his head. At +length, on the third evening, he carried half a dozen long poles, and +wheeled several barrowfuls of short planks, measuring but a few inches +over two feet, down to the clump of trees. + +At the foot of the largest elm he began to dig, with the intention +of inserting the thick end of one of the poles; but he soon found it +impossible to get half deep enough, because of the tremendous roots of +the tree, and giving it up, thought of a better plan. + +He set off to the smithy, and bought of Mr Willett some fifteen feet of +iron rod, with a dozen staples. Carrying them home to his small forge, +he cut the rod into equal lengths of a little over two feet, and made a +hook at both ends of each length. Then he carried them down to the +elm, and drove six of the staples into the bole of the tree at equal +distances all round it, a foot from the ground; the others he drove one +into each of the six poles, a foot from the thick end; after which +he connected the poles with the tree, each by a hooked rod and its +corresponding staples, when the tops of the poles just reached to the +first fork of the elm. Then he nailed a bracket to the tree, at the +height of an easy step from the ground, and at the same height nailed a +piece of wood across between two of the poles. Resting on the bracket +and this piece of wood, he laid the first step of a stair, and fastened +it firmly to both. Another bracket a little higher, and another piece of +wood nailed to two poles, raised the next step; and so he went round and +round the tree in an ascending spiral, climbing on the steps already +placed to fix others above them. Encircling the tree some four or five +times, for he wanted the ascent easy for little feet, he was at length +at its fork. There he laid a platform or landing-place, and paused to +consider what to do next. This was on the third evening from the laying +of the first step. + +From the fork many boughs rose and spread--amongst them two very near +each other, between which he saw how, by help of various inequalities, +he might build a little straight staircase leading up into a perfect +wilderness of leaves and branches. He set about it at once, and, +although he found it more difficult than he had expected, succeeded at +last in building a safe stair between the boughs, with a hand-rail of +rope on each side. + +But Willie had chosen to ascend in this direction for another reason as +well: one of these boughs was in close contact with a bough belonging to +one of the largest of the red firs. On this fir-bough he constructed a +landing-place, upon which it was as easy as possible to step from the +stair in the elm. Next, the bough being very large, he laid along it a +plank steadied by blocks underneath--a level for the little feet. Then +he began to weave a network of rope and string along each side of the +bough, so that the child could not fall off; but finding this rather a +long job, and thinking it a pity to balk her of so much pleasure merely +for the sake of surprising her the more thoroughly, he resolved to +reveal what he had already done, and permit her to enjoy it. + +For, as I ought to have mentioned sooner, he had taken Mona into his +confidence, and she had kept Agnes out of the way for now nearly a whole +week of evenings. But she was finding it more and more difficult to +restrain her from rushing off in search of Willie, and was very glad +indeed when he told her that he was not going to keep the thing a secret +any longer. + + + +[Illustration: WILLIE CARRIED AGNES UP THE STAIR INTO THE GREAT BRANCHES +OF THE ELM TREE.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +HOW AGNES LIKED BEING A BIRD. + +But Willie began to think whether he might not give Agnes two surprises +out of it, with a dream into the bargain, and thought over it until he +saw how he could manage it. + +She always went to bed at seven o'clock, so that by the time the other +people in the house began to think of retiring, she was generally fast +asleep. About ten o'clock, therefore, the next night, just as a great +round moon was peering above the horizon, with a quantity of mackerel +clouds ready to receive her when she rose a yard or two higher, Willie, +taking a soft shawl of his mother's, went into Agnes's room, and having +wrapped her in the shawl, with a corner of it over her head and face, +carried her out into the garden, down to the trees, and up the stair +into the midst of the great boughs and branches of the elm tree. It was +a very warm night, with a soft breath of south wind blowing, and there +was no risk of her taking cold. He uncovered her face, but did not wake +her, leaving that to the change of her position and the freshness of the +air. + +Nor was he disappointed. In a few moments she began to stir, then +half-opened her eyes, then shut them, then opened them again, then +rubbed them, then drew a deep breath, and then began to lift her head +from Willie's shoulder, and look about her. Through the thick leaves the +moon was shining like a great white fire, and must have looked to her +sleepy eyes almost within a yard of her. Even if she had not been half +asleep, so beheld through the leaves, it would have taken her a while to +make up her mind what the huge bright thing was. Then she heard a great +fluttering as if the leaves were talking to her, and out of them came a +soft wind that blew in her face, and felt very sweet and pleasant. She +rubbed her eyes again, but could not get the sleep out of them. As last +she said to Willie, who stood as still as a stone--but her tongue and +her voice and her lips could hardly make the words she wanted them to +utter: + +"Am I awake? Am I dreaming? It's so nice!" + +Willie did not answer her, and the little head sunk on his shoulder +again. He drew the corner of the shawl over it, and carried her back to +her bed. When he had laid her down, she opened her eyes wide, stared him +in the face for a moment, as if she knew all about everything except +just what she was looking at, put her thumb in her mouth, and was fast +asleep. + +The next morning at breakfast, her papa out, and her mamma not yet come +down, she told Willie that she had had such a beautiful dream!--that an +angel, with great red wings, came and took her in his arms, and flew +up and up with her to a cloud that lay close by the moon, and there +stopped. The cloud was made all of little birds that kept fluttering +their wings and talking to each other, and the fluttering of their wings +made a wind in her face, and the wind made her very happy, and the moon +kept looking through the birds quite close to them, and smiling at her, +and she saw the face of the man in the moon quite plain. But then it +grew dark and began to thunder, and the angel went down very fast, and +the thunder was the clapping of his big red wings, and he flew with +her into her mamma's room, and laid her down in her crib, and when she +looked at him he was so like Willie. + +"Do you think the dream could have come of your wishing to be a bird, +Agnes?" asked Willie. + +"I don't know. Perhaps," replied Agnes. "Are you angry with me for +wishing I was a bird, Willie?" + +"No, darling. What makes you ask such a question?" + +"Because ever since then you won't let me go with you--when you are +doing things, you know." + +"Why, you were in the laboratory with me yesterday!" said Willie. + +"Yes, but you wouldn't have me in the evening when you used to let me +be with you always. What are you doing down amongst the trees _always_ +now?" + +"If you will have patience and not go near them all day, I will show you +in the evening." + +Agnes promised; and Willie gave the whole day to getting things on a +bit. Amongst other things he wove such a network along the bough of the +Scotch fir, that it was quite safe for Agnes to walk on it down to the +great red hole of the tree. There he was content to make a pause for the +present, constructing first, however, a little chair of bough and branch +and rope and twig in which she could safely sit. + +Just as he had finished the chair, he heard her voice calling, in a tone +that grew more and more pitiful. + +"Willie!--Willie!--Willie!--Willie!" + +He got down and ran to find her. She was at the window of his room, +where she had gone to wait till he called her, but her patience had at +last given way. + +"I'm _so_ tired, Willie! Mayn't I come yet?" + +"Wait just one moment more," said Willie, and ran to the house for his +mother's shawl. + +As soon as he began to wrap it about her, Agnes said, thoughtfully-- + +"Somebody did that to me before--not long ago--I remember: it was the +angel in my dream." + +When Willie put the corner over her face, she said, "He did that too!" +and when he took her in his arms, she said, "He did that too! How funny +you should do just what the angel did in my dream!" + +Willie ran about with her here and there through the ruins, into +the house, up and down the stairs, and through the garden in many +directions, until he was satisfied he must have thoroughly bewildered +her as to whereabouts they were, and then at last sped with her up the +stair to the fork of the elm-tree. There he threw back the shawl, and +told her to look. + +To see her first utterly bewildered expression--then the slow glimmering +dawn of intelligence, as she began to understand where she was--next the +gradual rise of light in her face as if it came there from some spring +down below, until it broke out in a smile all over it, when at length +she perceived that this was what he had been working at, and why he +wouldn't have her with him--gave Willie all the pleasure he had hoped +for--quite satisfied him, and made him count his labour well rewarded. + +"O Willie! Willie! it was all for me!--Wasn't it now?" + +"Yes, it was, pet," said Willie. + +"It was all to make a bird of me--wasn't it?" she went on. + +"Yes--as much of a bird as I could. I couldn't give you wings, you know, +and I hadn't any of my own to fly up with you to the moon, as the angel +in your dream did. The dream was much nicer--wasn't it?" + +"I'm not sure about that--really I'm not. I think it is nicer to have a +wind coming you don't know from where, and making all the leaves flutter +about, than to have the wings of birdies making the wind. And I don't +care about the man in the moon much. He's not so nice as you, Willie. +And yon red ray of the sun through there on the fir-tree is as good +nearly as the moon." + +"Oh! but you may have the moon, if you wait a bit. She'll be too late +to-night, though." + +"But now I think of it, Willie," said Agnes, "I do believe it wasn't a +dream at all." + +"Do you think a real angel carried you really up to the moon, then?" +asked Willie. + +"No; but a real Willie carried me really up into this tree, and the +moon shone through the leaves, and I thought they were birds. You're my +angel, Willie, only better to me than twenty hundred angels." + +And Agnes threw her arms round his neck and hugged and kissed him. + +As soon as he could speak, that is, as soon as she ceased choking him, +he said-- + +"You _were_ up in this tree last night: and the wind was fluttering the +leaves; and the moon was shining through them"-- + +"And you carried me in this shawl, and that was the red wings of the +angel," cried Agnes, dancing with delight. + +"Yes, pet, I daresay it was. But aren't you sorry to lose your big +angel?" + +"The angel was only in a dream, and you're here, Willie. Besides, you'll +be a big angel some day, Willie, and then you'll have wings, and be able +to fly me about." + +"But you'll have wings of your own then, and be able to fly without me." + +"But I _may_ fold them up sometimes--mayn't I? for it would be much +nicer to be carried by _your_ wings--sometimes, you know. Look, look, +Willie! Look at the sunbeam on the trunk of the fir--how red it's got. +I do wish I could have a peep at the sun. Where can he be? I should see +him if I were to go into his beam there--shouldn't I?" + +"He's shining past the end of the cottage," said Willie. "Go, and you'll +see him." + +"Go where?" asked Agnes. + +"Into the red sunbeam on the fir-tree." + +"I haven't got my wings yet, Willie." + +"That's what people very often say when they're not inclined to try what +they can do with their legs." + +"But I can't go there, Willie." + +"You haven't tried." + +"How am I to try?" + +"You're not even trying to try. You're standing talking, and saying you +can't." + +It was nearly all Agnes could do to keep from crying. But she felt she +must do something more lest Willie should be vexed. There seemed but one +way to get nearer to the sunbeam, and that was to go down this tree and +run to the foot of the other. What if Willie had made a stair up it +also? But as she turned to see how she was to go down, for she had been +carried up blind, she caught sight of the straight staircase between the +two boughs, and, with a shriek of delight, up she ran. + +"Gently, gently! Don't bring the tree down with your tremendous weight," +cried Willie, following her close behind. + +At the end of the stairs she sprang upon the bough of the fir, and in a +moment more was sitting in the full light of the sunset. + +"O Willie! Willie! this _is_ grand! How good, how kind of you! You +_have_ made a bird of me! What will papa and mamma say? Won't they be +delighted? I must run and fetch Mona." + +So saying she hurried across again, and down the stair, and away to look +for Mona Shepherd, shouting with delight as she ran. In a few minutes +her cries had gathered the whole house to the bottom of the garden, as +well as Mr Shepherd and Mona and Mrs Hunter. Mr Macmichael and all of +them went up into the tree, Mr Shepherd last and with some misgivings; +for, having no mechanical faculty himself, he could not rightly value +Willie's, and feared that he might not have made the stair safe. But Mr +Macmichael soon satisfied him, showing him how strong and firm Willie +had made every part of it. + +The next evening, Willie went on with his plan, which was to make a way +for Bird Agnes from one tree to another over the whole of the clump. It +took him many evenings, however, to complete it, and a good many more +to construct in the elm tree a thin wooden house cunningly perched upon +several of the strongest boughs and branches. He called it Bird Agnes's +Nest. It had doors and windows, and several stories in it, only the +upper stories did not rest on the lower, but upon higher branches of the +tree. To two of these he made stairs, and a rope-ladder to a third. When +the house was finished, he put a little table in the largest room, and +having got some light chairs from the house, asked his father and mother +and grandmother to tea in Bird Agnes's Nest. But grannie declined to go +up the tree. She said _her_ climbing days were over long ago. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +WILLIE'S PLANS BUD. + +Either they were over, or were only beginning; for, the next winter, +while Willie was at college, grannie was taken ill; and although they +sent for him to come home at once, she had climbed higher ere he +arrived. When they opened her will, they found that she had left +everything to Willie. There was more than a hundred pounds in ready +money, and property that brought in about fifty pounds a-year--not much +to one who would have spent everything on himself, but a good deal to +one who loved other people, and for their sakes would contrive that a +little should go a long way. + +So Willie was henceforth able to relieve his father by paying all his +own college expenses. He laid by a little too, as his father wished him, +until he should see how best to use it. His father always talked about +_using_ never about _spending_ money. + +When he came home the next summer, he moved again into his own old room, +for Agnes slept in a little closet off her mother's, and much preferred +that to a larger and more solitary room for herself. His mother +especially was glad to have him under the same roof once more at night. +But Willie felt that something ought to be done with the room he +had left in the ruins, for nothing ought to be allowed to spoil by +uselessness. He did not, however, see for some time to what he could +turn it. + +I need hardly say that he kept up all his old friendships. No day passed +while he was at home without his going to see some one of his former +companions--Mr Willett, or Mr Spelman, or Mr Wilson. For Hector, he +went to see him oftenest of all, he being his favourite, and sickly, +and therefore in most need of attention. But he greatly improved his +acquaintance with William Webster; and although he had now so much +to occupy him, would not be satisfied until he was able to drive the +shuttle, and work the treadles and the batten, and, in short, turn out +almost as good a bit of linen as William himself--only he wanted about +twice as much time to it. + +One day, going in to see Hector, he found him in bed and very poorly. + +"My shoemaking is nearly over, Mr Willie," he said. "But I don't mind +much; I'm sure to find a corner in the general business ready for me +somewhere when I'm not wanted here any more." + +"Have you been drinking the water lately?" asked Willie. + +"No. I was very busy last week, and hadn't time, and it was rather cold +for me to go out. But for that matter the wind blew in through door +and window so dreadfully--and it's but a clay floor, and firing is +dear--that I caught a cold, and a cold is the worst thing for me--that +is for this poor rickety body of mine. And this cold is a bad one." + +Here a great fit of coughing came on, accompanied by symptoms that +Willie saw were dangerous, and he went home at once to get him some +medicine. + +On the way back a thought struck him, about which, however, he would say +nothing to Hector until he should have talked to his father and mother +about it, which he did that same evening at supper. + +"I'll tell you what, Hector," he said, when he went to see him the next +day--"you must come and occupy my room in the ruins. Since grannie went +home I don't want it, and it's a pity to have it lying idle. It's a deal +warmer than this, and I'll get a stove in before the winter. You won't +have to work so hard when you've got no rent to pay, and you will have +as much of the water as you like without the trouble of walking up +the hill for it. Then there's the garden for you to walk in when you +please--all on a level, and only the little stair to climb to get back +to your own room." + +"But I should be such a trouble to you all, Mr Willie!" + +"You'd be no trouble--we've two servants now. If you like you can give +the little one a shilling now and then, and she'll be glad enough to +make your bed, and sweep out your room; and you know Tibby has a great +regard for you, and will be very glad to do all the cooking you will +want--it's not much, I know: your porridge and a cup of tea is about +all. And then there's my father to look after your health, and Agnes to +amuse you sometimes, and my mother to look after everything, and"-- + +Here poor Hector fairly broke down. When he recovered himself he said-- + +"But how could gentle folks like you bear to see a hump-backed creature +like me crawling about the place?" + +"They would only enjoy it the more that you enjoyed it," said Willie. + +It was all arranged. As soon as Hector was able to be moved, he was +carried up to the Ruins, and there nursed by everybody. Nothing could +exceed his comfort now but his gratitude. He was soon able to work +again, and as he was evidently happier when doing a little towards the +general business, Mr Macmichael thought it best for him. + +One day, Willie being at work in his laboratory, and getting himself +half-stifled with a sudden fume of chlorine, opened the door for some +air just as Hector had passed it. He stood at the door and followed him +down the walk with his eyes, watching him as he went--now disappearing +behind the blossoms of an apple-tree, now climbing one of the little +mounds, and now getting up into the elm-tree, and looking about him on +all sides, his sickly face absolutely shining with pleasure. + +"But," said Willie all at once to himself, "why should Hector be the +only invalid to have this pleasure?" + +He found no answer to the question. I don't think he looked for one very +hard though. And again, all at once, he said to himself-- + +"What if this is what my grannie's money was given me for?" + +That night he had a dream. The two questions had no doubt a share in +giving it him, and perhaps also a certain essay of Lord Bacon--"Of +Building," namely--which he had been reading before he went to bed. + +[Illustration: WILLIE'S DREAM.] + +He dreamed that, being pulled up in the middle of the night by his +wheel, he went down to go into the garden. But the moment he was out of +the back door, he fancied there was something strange going on in his +room in the ruins--he could not tell what, but he must go and see. When +he climbed the stairs and opened the door, there was Hector Macallaster +where he ought to be, asleep in his bed. But there _was_ something +strange going on; for a stream, which came dashing over the side of the +wooden spout, was flowing all round Hector's bed, and then away he knew +not whither. Another strange thing was, that in the further wall was a +door which was new to him. He opened it, and found himself in another +chamber, like his own; and there also lay some one, he knew not who, in +a bed, with a stream of water flowing all around it. There was also a +second door, beyond which was a third room, and a third patient asleep, +and a third stream flowing around the bed, and a third door beyond. He +went from room to room, on and on, through about a hundred such, he +thought, and at length came to a vaulted chamber, which seemed to be over +the well. From the centre of the vault rose a great chimney, and under +the chimney was a huge fire, and on the fire stood a mighty golden +cauldron, up to which, through a large pipe, came the water of the well, +and went pouring in with a great rushing, and hissing, and bubbling. From +the other side of the cauldron, the water rushed away through another +pipe into the trough that ran through all the chambers, and made the +rivers that flowed the beds of the sleeping patients. And what was most +wonderful of all--by the fire stood two angels, with grand lovely wings, +and they made a great fanning with their wings, and so blew the fire up +loud and strong about the golden cauldron. And when Willie looked into +their faces, he saw that one of them was his father, and the other Mr +Shepherd. And he gave a great cry of delight, and woke weeping. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +WILLIE'S PLANS BLOSSOM. + +In the morning, Willie's head was full of his dream. How gladly would he +have turned it into a reality! That was impossible--but might he not do +something towards it? He had long ago seen that those who are doomed not +to realise their ideal, are just those who will not take the first step +towards it. "Oh! this is such a little thing to do, it can't be any +use!" they say. "And it's such a distance off what I mean, and what I +should give my life to have!" They think and they say that they would +give their life for it, and yet they will not give a single hearty +effort. Hence they just stop where they are, or rather go back and back +until they do not care a bit for the thoughts they used to think so +great that they cherished them for the glory of having thought them. But +even the wretched people who set their hearts on making money, begin by +saving the first penny they can, and then the next and the next. And +they have their reward: they get the riches they want--with the loss of +their souls to be sure, but that they did not think of. The people on +the other hand who want to be noble and good, begin by taking the first +thing that comes to their hand and doing that right, and so they go on +from one thing to another, growing better and better. + +In the same way, although it would have been absurd in Willie to rack +his brain for some scheme by which to restore such a grand building as +the Priory, he could yet bethink himself that the hundredth room did not +come next the first, neither did the third; the one after the first was +the second, and he might do something towards the existence of that. + +He went out immediately after breakfast, and began peering about the +ruins to see where the second room might be. To his delight he saw that, +with a little contrivance, it could be built on the other side of the +wall of Hector's room. + +He had plenty of money for it, his grannie's legacy not being yet +touched. He thought it all over himself, talked it all over with his +father, and then consulted it all over with Spelman. The end was, that +without nearly spending his little store, he had, before the time came +for his return to the college, built another room. + +As the garret was full of his grandmother's furniture, nothing was +easier than to fit it up--and that very nicely too. It remained only to +find an occupant for it. This would have been easy enough also without +going far from the door, but both Willie and his father were practical +men, and therefore could not be content with merely doing good: they +wanted to do as much good as they could. It would not therefore satisfy +them to put into their new room such a person--say, as Mrs Wilson, who +could get on pretty well where she was, though she might have been made +more comfortable. But suppose they could find the sickly mother of a +large family, whom a few weeks of change, with the fine air from the +hills and the wonderful water from the Prior's well, would restore to +strength and cheerfulness, how much more good would they not be doing in +that way--seeing that to help a mother with children is to help all the +children as well, not to mention the husband and the friends of the +family! There were plenty such to be found amongst the patients he had +to attend while at college. The expense of living was not great at +Priory Leas, and Mr MacMichael was willing to bear that, if only to +test the influences of the water and climate upon strangers. + +Although it was not by any means the best season for the experiment, it +was yet thoroughly successful with the pale rheumatic mother of six, +whom Willie first sent home to his father's care. She returned to her +children at Christmas, comparatively a hale woman, capable of making +them and everybody about her twice as happy as before. Another as nearly +like her in bodily condition and circumstances as he could find, took +her place,--with a like result; and before long the healing that hovered +about Priory Leas began to be known and talked of amongst the professors +of the college, and the medical men of the city. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +WILLIE'S PLANS BEAR FRUIT. + +When his studies were finished, Willie returned to assist his father, +for he had no desire to settle in a great city with the ambition of +becoming a fashionable doctor getting large fees and growing rich. He +regarded the end of life as being, in a large measure, just to take his +share in the general business. + +By this time the reputation of the Prior's Well had spread on all sides, +and the country people had begun to visit the Leas, and stay for a week +or ten days to drink of the water. Indeed so many kept coming and going +at all hours through the garden, that the MacMichaels at length found +it very troublesome, and had a small pipe laid to a little stone trough +built into the garden wall on the outside, so that whoever would might +come and drink with less trouble to all concerned. + +But Willie had come home with a new idea in his head. + +An old valetudinarian in the city, who knew every spa in Europe, wanted +to try that of Priory Leas and had consulted him about it. Finding that +there was no such accommodation to be had as he judged suitable, he +seriously advised Willie to build a house fit for persons of position, +as he called them, assuring him that they would soon make their fortunes +if they did. Now although, as I have said, this was not the ambition of +either father or son, for a fortune had never seemed to either worth +taking trouble about, yet it suggested something that was better. + +"Why," said Willie to his father, "shouldn't we restore a bit of the +Priory in such a way that a man like Mr Yellowley could endure it for +a little while? He would pay us well, and then we should be able to do +more for those that can't pay us." + +"We couldn't cook for a man like that," said his mother. + +"He wouldn't want that," said his father. "He would be sure to bring his +own servants." + +The result was that Mr MacMichael thought the thing worth trying, and +resolved to lay out all his little savings, as well as what Willie could +add, on getting a kitchen and a few convenient rooms constructed in +the ruins--of course keeping as much as possible to their plan and +architectural character. He found, however, that it would want a good +deal more than they could manage to scrape together between them, and +was on the point of giving up the scheme, or at least altering it for +one that would have been much longer in making them any return, when Mr +Shepherd, who had become acquainted with their plans, and consequently +with their difficulties, offered to join them with the little he had +laid aside for a rainy day--which proved just sufficient to complete +the sum necessary. Between the three the thing was effected, and Mr +Yellowley was their first visitor. + +I am sorry to say he grumbled a good deal at first at the proximity of +the cobbler, and at having to meet him in his walks about the garden; +but this was a point on which Mr MacMichael, who of course took the +old man's complaints good-humouredly, would not budge, and he had to +reconcile himself to it as he best might. Nor was it very difficult +after he found he must. Before long they became excellent friends, for +if you will only give time and opportunity, in an ordinarily good +man nature will overcome in the end. Mr Yellowley was at heart +good-natured, and the cobbler was well worth knowing. Before the former +left, the two were often to be seen pacing the garden together, and +talking happily. + +It is quite unnecessary to recount all the gradations of growth by which +room after room arose from the ruins of the Priory. When Mr Yellowley +went away, after nearly six months' sojourn, during the latter part of +which, so wonderfully was he restored by the air and the water and the +medical care of Mr MacMichael, he enjoyed a little shooting on the +hills, he paid him a hundred and fifty pounds for accommodation and +medical attendance--no great sum, as money goes now-a-days, but a good +return in six months for the outlay of a thousand pounds. This they laid +by to accumulate for the next addition. And the Priory, having once +taken to growing, went on with it. They cleared away mound after mound +from the garden, turning them once more into solid walls, for they were +formed mainly of excellent stones, which had just been waiting to be put +up again. The only evil consequence was that the garden became a little +less picturesque by their removal, although, on the other hand, a good +deal more productive. + +Yes, there was a second apparently bad consequence--the Priory spread as +well as grew, until it encroached not a little upon the garden. But for +this a remedy soon appeared. + +The next house and garden, although called the Manse, because the +clergyman of the parish lived there, were Mr Shepherd's own property. +The ruins formed a great part of the boundary between the two, and it +was plain to see that the Priory had extended a good way into what +was now the other garden. Indeed Mr Shepherd's house, as well as Mr +MacMichael's, had been built out of the ruins. Mr Shepherd offered +to have the wall thrown down and the building extended on his side as +well--so that it should stand in the middle of one large garden. + +My readers need not put a question as to what would have become of it if +the two proprietors had quarrelled; for it had become less likely than +ever that such a thing should happen. Willie had told Mona that he loved +her more that he could tell, and wanted to ask her a question, only he +didn't know how; and Mona had told Willie that she would suppose his +question if he would suppose her answer; and Willie had said, "May I +suppose it to be the very answer I should like?" and Mona had answered +"Yes" quite decidedly; and Willie had given her a kiss; and Mona +had taken the kiss and given him another for it; and so it was all +understood, and there was no fear of the wall having to be built up +again between the gardens. + +So the Priory grew and flourished and gained great reputation; and the +fame of the two doctors, father and son, spread far and wide for the +cures they wrought. And many people came and paid them large sums. But +the more rich people that came, the more poor people they invited. For +they never would allow the making of money to intrude upon the dignity +of their high calling. How should avarice and cure go together? _A +greedy healer of men_! What a marriage of words! + +The Priory became quite a grand building. The chapel grew up again, and +had windows of stained glass that shone like jewels; and Mr Shepherd, +having preached in the parish church in the morning, always preached in +the Priory chapel on the Sunday evening, and all the patients, and any +one besides that pleased, went to hear him. + +They built great baths, hot and cold, and of all kinds--from baths where +people could swim, to baths where they were only showered on by a very +sharp rain. It was a great and admirable place. + +After the two fathers died, Mona had a picture of Willie's dream +painted, with portraits of them as the two angels. + +This is the story of Gutta Percha Willie. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GUTTA-PERCHA WILLIE*** + + +******* This file should be named 10093.txt or 10093.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/0/9/10093 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS," WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext06 + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** diff --git a/old/10093.zip b/old/10093.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9b79f5b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10093.zip |