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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:57:43 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:57:43 -0700 |
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diff --git a/32501-h/32501-h.htm b/32501-h/32501-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..06ed4d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/32501-h/32501-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6239 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Golden Age, by Kenneth Grahame. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%; font-style: italic;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align:baseline; + position: relative; + bottom: 0.33em; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + .cap:first-letter {float: left; clear: left; margin: -0.2em 0.1em 0; margin-top: 0%; + padding: 0; line-height: .75em; font-size: 300%; text-align: justify;} + .cap {text-align: justify;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Golden Age, by Kenneth Grahame + +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: The Golden Age + +Author: Kenneth Grahame + +Illustrator: Maxfield Parrish + +Release Date: May 23, 2010 [EBook #32501] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOLDEN AGE *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<h4>There are several editions of this ebook in the Project Gutenberg collection. Various characteristics of each ebook are listed to aid in selecting the preferred file.<br />Click on any of the filenumbers below to quickly view each ebook. +</h4> + + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/53250/53250-h/53250-h.htm"> +53250</a> </b> </td><td>(Fine color illustrations) +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/32501/32501-h/32501-h.htm"> +32501</a></b></td><td>(Fine sepia illustrations) +</td></tr> + + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/291/291-h/291-h.htm"> +291</a></b> </td><td>(No illustrations) +</td></tr> + +</table> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 434px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="434" height="600" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> + + +<h1>THE GOLDEN AGE</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='center'><b><i>COMPANION VOLUME TO THIS BOOK</i></b><br /> + +<b><big>DREAM DAYS</big></b><br /> +<br /> +<b>BY</b><br /> + +<b>KENNETH GRAHAME</b><br /> + +<b><i>PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED BY MAXFIELD PARRISH</i></b></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 333px;"><a name="title" id="title"></a> +<img src="images/ill01.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="'Onto the garden wall, which led in its turn to the roof of an out-house'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'Onto the garden wall, which led in its turn to the roof of an out-house'</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>'<i>The Golden Age</i>'</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 331px;"><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a> +<img src="images/title.jpg" width="331" height="500" alt="Title Page" title="" /> +</div> +<h1>THE GOLDEN AGE</h1> + +<h2>BY KENNETH GRAHAME</h2> + +<h3>ILLUSTRATED By MAXFIELD PARRISH</h3> + + +<div class='center'> +JOHN LANE.<br /> +THE BODLEY HEAD<br /> +LONDON AND NEW YORK<br /> +1900<br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<div class='copyright'> +<i>Copyright, 1899</i><br /> +BY JOHN LANE<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Copyright, 1904</i><br /> +BY JOHN LANE<br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>PROLOGUE: THE OLYMPIANS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A HOLIDAY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A WHITE-WASHED UNCLE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE FINDING OF THE PRINCESS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SAWDUST AND SIN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'YOUNG ADAM CUPID'</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE BURGLARS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A HARVESTING</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SNOWBOUND</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>WHAT THEY TALKED ABOUT</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE ARGONAUTS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE ROMAN ROAD</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE SECRET DRAWER</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'EXIT TYRANNUS'</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE BLUE ROOM</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A FALLING OUT</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'LUSISTI SATIS'</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>PUBLISHER'S NOTE</h2> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The publication of this new edition of "The Golden Age," +the favourite amongst Mr. Kenneth Grahame's favoured +books, with the illustrations by Mr. Maxfield Parrish reproduced +in photogravure, was accomplished through the +kindness of the various owners, who gave access to the originals +in their respective collections. The publisher begs gratefully +to acknowledge this courtesy, with special thanks also to +Mr. Frederick Keppel and Mr. Fitzroy Carrington for their +kind co-operation.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='left'> </td><td align='left'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'Onto the garden wall, which led in its turn to the roof of an out-house'</div></td><td align='right' colspan='2'><i><a href="#frontis">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'The Golden Age'</div></td><td align='right' colspan='2'><i><a href="#title">Title</a></i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'For them the orchard (a place elf-haunted, wonderful!) simply'</div></td><td align='left'><i>Facing</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'Out into the brimming sun-bathed world I sped'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'"I took the old fellow to the station"'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'Once more were damsels rescued, dragons disembowelled, and giants'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'Lulled by the trickle of water, I slipped into dreamland'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'It was easy . . . to transport yourself in a trice to the heart of a tropical forest'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'Who would have thought . . . that only two short days ago we had confronted each other on either side of a hedge'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'A great book open on his knee . . . a score or so disposed within easy reach'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'But yester-eve and the mummers were here!'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'"They make me walk behind, 'cos they say I'm too little, and mustn't hear"'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'"I'm Jason . . . and this is the Argo . . . and we're just going through the Hellespont"'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'"You haven't been to Rome, have you?"'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'I drew it out and carried it to the window, to examine it in the failing light'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'At breakfast Miss Smedley behaved in a most mean and uncalled-for manner'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'The procession passing solemnly across the moon-lit Blue Room'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'"Why, Master Harold! whatever be the matter? Baint runnin' away, be ee?"'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_232">232</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>'Finally we found ourselves sitting silent on an upturned wheelbarrow'</div></td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> +<h2>PROLOGUE: THE OLYMPIANS</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>LOOKING back to those days of old, ere +the gate shut to behind me, I can see +now that to children with a proper equipment +of parents these things would have worn a different +aspect. But to those whose nearest were +aunts and uncles, a special attitude of mind may +be allowed. They treated us, indeed, with kindness +enough as to the needs of the flesh, but +after that with indifference (an indifference, as +I recognise, the result of a certain stupidity), +and therewith the commonplace conviction that +your child is merely animal. At a very early +age I remember realising in a quite impersonal +and kindly way the existence of that stupidity, +and its tremendous influence in the world; while +there grew up in me, as in the parallel case of +Caliban upon Setebos, a vague sense of a ruling +power, wilful, and freakish, and prone to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +practice of vagaries—'just choosing so': as, +for instance, the giving of authority over us to +these hopeless and incapable creatures, when +it might far more reasonably have been given +to ourselves over them. These elders, our betters +by a trick of chance, commanded no respect, +but only a certain blend of envy—of their good +luck—and pity—for their inability to make +use of it. Indeed, it was one of the most +hopeless features in their character (when we +troubled ourselves to waste a thought on them: +which wasn't often) that, having absolute licence +to indulge in the pleasures of life, they could +get no good of it. They might dabble in the +pond all day, hunt the chickens, climb trees in +the most uncompromising Sunday clothes; they +were free to issue forth and buy gunpowder in +the full eye of the sun—free to fire cannons and +explode mines on the lawn: yet they never did +any one of these things. No irresistible Energy +haled them to church o' Sundays; yet they +went there regularly of their own accord, though +they betrayed no greater delight in the experience +than ourselves.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></div> + +<p>On the whole, the existence of these Olympians +seemed to be entirely void of interests, +even as their movements were confined and +slow, and their habits stereotyped and senseless. +To anything but appearances they were blind. +For them the orchard (a place elf-haunted, +wonderful!) simply produced so many apples +and cherries: or it didn't—when the failures of +Nature were not infrequently ascribed to us. +They never set foot within fir-wood or hazel-copse, +nor dreamt of the marvels hid therein. +The mysterious sources, sources as of old Nile, +that fed the duck-pond had no magic for them. +They were unaware of Indians, nor recked they +anything of bisons or of pirates (with pistols!), +though the whole place swarmed with such +portents. They cared not to explore for robbers' +caves, nor dig for hidden treasure. Perhaps, +indeed, it was one of their best qualities +that they spent the greater part of their time +stuffily indoors.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 333px;"> +<img src="images/ill02.jpg" width="333" height="499" alt="'For them the orchard (a place elf-haunted, wonderful!) simply'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'For them the orchard (a place elf-haunted, wonderful!) simply'</span> +</div> + +<p>To be sure there was an exception in the +curate, who would receive, unblenching, the information +that the meadow beyond the orchard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +was a prairie studded with herds of buffalo, which +it was our delight, moccasined and tomahawked, +to ride down with those whoops that announce +the scenting of blood. He neither laughed nor +sneered, as the Olympians would have done; +but, possessed of a serious idiosyncrasy, he +would contribute such lots of valuable suggestion +as to the pursuit of this particular sort of +big game that, as it seemed to us, his mature +age and eminent position could scarce have been +attained without a practical knowledge of the +creature in its native lair. Then, too, he was +always ready to constitute himself a hostile army +or a band of marauding Indians on the shortest +possible notice: in brief, a distinctly able man, +with talents, so far as we could judge, immensely +above the majority. I trust he is a bishop by +this time. He had all the necessary qualifications, +as we knew.</p> + +<p>These strange folk had visitors sometimes—stiff +and colourless Olympians like themselves, +equally without vital interests and intelligent +pursuits: emerging out of the clouds, and +passing away again to drag on an aimless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +existence somewhere beyond our ken. Then +brute force was pitilessly applied. We were +captured, washed, and forced into clean collars: +silently submitting as was our wont, with more +contempt than anger. Anon, with unctuous hair +and faces stiffened in a conventional grin, we +sat and listened to the usual platitudes. How +could reasonable people spend their precious +time so? That was ever our wonder as we +bounded forth at last: to the old clay-pit to +make pots, or to hunt bears among the hazels.</p> + +<p>It was perennial matter for amazement how +these Olympians would talk over our heads—during +meals, for instance—of this or the other +social or political inanity, under the delusion +that these pale phantasms of reality were +among the importances of life. We <i>illuminati</i>, +eating silently, our heads full of plans and conspiracies, +could have told them what real life +was. We had just left it outside, and were all +on fire to get back to it. Of course we didn't +waste the revelation on them: the futility of +imparting our ideas had long been demonstrated. +One in thought and purpose, linked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +by the necessity of combating one hostile fate, +a power antagonistic ever—a power we lived to +evade—we had no confidants save ourselves. +This strange anæmic order of beings was further +removed from us, in fact, than the kindly beasts +who shared our natural existence in the sun. +The estrangement was fortified by an abiding +sense of injustice, arising from the refusal of the +Olympians ever to defend, to retract, to admit +themselves in the wrong, or to accept similar +concessions on our part. For instance, when I +flung the cat out of an upper window (though I +did it from no ill-feeling, and it didn't hurt the +cat), I was ready, after a moment's reflection, +to own I was wrong, as a gentleman should. +But was the matter allowed to end there? I +trow not. Again, when Harold was locked up +in his room all day, for assault and battery +upon a neighbour's pig—an action he would +have scorned: being indeed on the friendliest +terms with the porker in question—there was +no handsome expression of regret on the discovery +of the real culprit. What Harold had +felt was not so much the imprisonment—indeed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +he had very soon escaped by the window, with +assistance from his allies, and had only gone +back in time for his release—as the Olympian +habit. A word would have set all right; but of +course that word was never spoken.</p> + +<p>Well! The Olympians are all past and gone. +Somehow the sun does not seem to shine so +brightly as it used; the trackless meadows of +old time have shrunk and dwindled away to a +few poor acres. A saddening doubt, a dull +suspicion, creeps over me. <i>Et in Arcadia ego</i>—I +certainly did once inhabit Arcady. Can it +be that I also have become an Olympian?</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec001.png" width="400" height="136" alt="Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> +<h2>A HOLIDAY</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE masterful wind was up and out, shouting +and chasing, the lord of the morning. +Poplars swayed and tossed with a roaring +swish; dead leaves sprang aloft, and whirled +into space; and all the clear-swept heaven +seemed to thrill with sound like a great harp. +It was one of the first awakenings of the year. +The earth stretched herself, smiling in her +sleep; and everything leapt and pulsed to the +stir of the giant's movement. With us it was +a whole holiday; the occasion a birthday—it +matters not whose. Some one of us had had +presents, and pretty conventional speeches, and +had glowed with that sense of heroism which +is no less sweet that nothing has been done to +deserve it. But the holiday was for all, the +rapture of awakening Nature for all, the various +outdoor joys of puddles and sun and hedge-breaking +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>for all. Colt-like I ran through the +meadows, frisking happy heels in the face of +Nature laughing responsive. Above, the sky +was bluest of the blue; wide pools left by the +winter's floods flashed the colour back, true and +brilliant; and the soft air thrilled with the germinating +touch that seems to kindle something +in my own small person as well as in the rash +primrose already lurking in sheltered haunts. +Out into the brimming sun-bathed world I sped, +free of lessons, free of discipline and correction, +for one day at least. My legs ran of themselves, +and though I heard my name called faint and +shrill behind, there was no stopping for me. It +was only Harold, I concluded, and his legs, +though shorter than mine, were good for a +longer spurt than this. Then I heard it called +again, but this time more faintly, with a pathetic +break in the middle; and I pulled up short, +recognising Charlotte's plaintive note. +</div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 403px;"> +<img src="images/ill03.jpg" width="403" height="600" alt="'Out into the brimming sun-bathed world I sped'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'Out into the brimming sun-bathed world I sped'</span> +</div> + +<p>She panted up anon, and dropped on the turf +beside me. Neither had any desire for talk; +the glow and the glory of existing on this perfect +morning were satisfaction full and sufficient.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Where's Harold?' I asked presently.</p> + +<p>'Oh, he's just playin' muffin-man, as usual,' +said Charlotte with petulance. 'Fancy wanting +to be a muffin-man on a whole holiday!'</p> + +<p>It was a strange craze, certainly; but Harold, +who invented his own games and played them +without assistance, always stuck staunchly to a +new fad, till he had worn it quite out. Just at +present he was a muffin-man, and day and night +he went through passages and up and down +staircases, ringing a noiseless bell and offering +phantom muffins to invisible wayfarers. It +sounds a poor sort of sport; and yet—to pass +along busy streets of your own building, for +ever ringing an imaginary bell and offering +airy muffins of your own make to a bustling +thronging crowd of your own creation—there +were points about the game, it cannot be denied, +though it seemed scarce in harmony with this +radiant wind-swept morning!</p> + +<p>'And Edward, where is he?' I questioned +again.</p> + +<p>'He's coming along by the road,' said Charlotte. +'He'll be crouching in the ditch when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +we get there, and he's going to be a grizzly +bear and spring out on us, only you mustn't +say I told you, 'cos it's to be a surprise.'</p> + +<p>'All right,' I said magnanimously. 'Come +on and let's be surprised.' But I could not +help feeling that on this day of days even a +grizzly felt misplaced and common.</p> + +<p>Sure enough an undeniable bear sprang out +on us as we dropped into the road; then +ensued shrieks, growlings, revolver-shots, and +unrecorded heroisms, till Edward condescended +at last to roll over and die, bulking large and +grim, an unmitigated grizzly. It was an understood +thing, that whoever took upon himself to +be a bear must eventually die, sooner or later, +even if he were the eldest born; else, life would +have been all strife and carnage, and the Age of +Acorns have displaced our hard-won civilisation. +This little affair concluded with satisfaction to all +parties concerned, we rambled along the road, +picking up the defaulting Harold by the way, +muffinless now and in his right and social mind.</p> + +<p>'What would you do?' asked Charlotte +presently—the book of the moment always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +dominating her thoughts until it was sucked +dry and cast aside,—'What would you do if +you saw two lions in the road, one on each +side, and you didn't know if they was loose +or if they was chained up?'</p> + +<p>'Do?' shouted Edward valiantly, 'I should—I +should—I should—' His boastful accents +died away into a mumble: 'Dunno what I +should do.'</p> + +<p>'Shouldn't do anything,' I observed after +consideration; and, really, it would be difficult +to arrive at a wiser conclusion.</p> + +<p>'If it came to <i>doing</i>,' remarked Harold reflectively, +'the lions would do all the doing there +was to do, wouldn't they?'</p> + +<p>'But if they was <i>good</i> lions,' rejoined Charlotte, +'they would do as they would be done by.'</p> + +<p>'Ah, but how are you to know a good lion +from a bad one?' said Edward. 'The books +don't tell you at all, and the lions ain't marked +any different.'</p> + +<p>'Why, there aren't any good lions,' said +Harold hastily.</p> + +<p>'O yes, there are, heaps and heaps,' contradicted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +Edward. 'Nearly all the lions in +the story-books are good lions. There was +Androcles' lion, and St. Jerome's lion, and—and—and +the Lion and the Unicorn——'</p> + +<p>'He beat the Unicorn,' observed Harold +dubiously, 'all round the town.'</p> + +<p>'That <i>proves</i> he was a good lion,' cried +Edward triumphantly. 'But the question is, +how are you to tell 'em when you see 'em?'</p> + +<p>'<i>I</i> should ask Martha,' said Harold of the +simple creed.</p> + +<p>Edward snorted contemptuously, then turned +to Charlotte. 'Look here,' he said; 'let's play +at lions, anyhow, and I'll run on to that corner +and be a lion,—I'll be two lions, one on each +side of the road,—and you'll come along, and +you won't know whether I'm chained up or not, +and that'll be the fun!'</p> + +<p>'No, thank you,' said Charlotte firmly; +'you'll be chained up till I'm quite close to +you, and then you'll be loose, and you'll tear +me in pieces, and make my frock all dirty, and +p'raps you'll hurt me as well. <i>I</i> know your +lions!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> + +<p>'No, I won't, I swear I won't,' protested +Edward. 'I'll be quite a new lion this time—something +you can't even imagine.' And he +raced off to his post. Charlotte hesitated—then +she went timidly on, at each step growing +less Charlotte, the mummer of a minute, +and more the anxious Pilgrim of all time. The +lion's wrath waxed terrible at her approach; +his roaring filled the startled air. I waited +until they were both thoroughly absorbed, and +then I slipped through the hedge out of the +trodden highway, into the vacant meadow +spaces. It was not that I was unsociable, nor +that I knew Edward's lions to the point of +satiety; but the passion and the call of the +divine morning were high in my blood. Earth +to earth! That was the frank note, the joyous +summons of the day; and they could not but jar +and seem artificial, these human discussions and +pretences, when boon nature, reticent no more, +was singing that full-throated song of hers that +thrills and claims control of every fibre. The +air was wine, the moist earth-smell wine, the +lark's song, the wafts from the cow-shed at top<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +of the field, the pant and smoke of a distant train—all +were wine—or song, was it? or odour, +this unity they all blent into? I had no words +then to describe it, that earth-effluence of which +I was so conscious; nor, indeed, have I found +words since. I ran sideways, shouting; I dug +glad heels into the squelching soil; I splashed +diamond showers from puddles with a stick; I +hurled clods skywards at random, and presently +I somehow found myself singing. The words +were mere nonsense—irresponsible babble; the +tune was an improvisation, a weary, unrhythmic +thing of rise and fall: and yet it seemed to me +a genuine utterance, and just at that moment +the one thing fitting and right and perfect. +Humanity would have rejected it with scorn. +Nature, everywhere singing in the same key, +recognised and accepted it without a flicker of +dissent.</p> + +<p>All the time the hearty wind was calling to +me companionably from where he swung and +bellowed in the tree-tops. 'Take me for guide +to-day,' he seemed to plead. 'Other holidays +you have tramped it in the track of the stolid,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +unswerving sun; a belated truant, you have +dragged a weary foot homeward with only a +pale, expressionless moon for company. To-day +why not I, the trickster, the hypocrite? I +who whip round corners and bluster, relapse +and evade, then rally and pursue! I can lead +you the best and rarest dance of any; for I +am the strong capricious one, the lord of misrule, +and I alone am irresponsible and unprincipled, +and obey no law.' And for me, I was +ready enough to fall in with the fellow's humour; +was not this a whole holiday? So we +sheered off together, arm-in-arm, so to speak; +and with fullest confidence I took the jigging, +thwartwise course my chainless pilot laid for +me.</p> + +<p>A whimsical comrade I found him, ere he had +done with me. Was it in jest, or with some +serious purpose of his own, that he brought me +plump upon a pair of lovers, silent, face to face +o'er a discreet unwinking stile? As a rule this +sort of thing struck me as the most pitiful tomfoolery. +Two calves rubbing noses through a +gate were natural and right and within the order<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +of things; but that human beings, with salient +interests and active pursuits beckoning them on +from every side, could thus—! Well, it was a +thing to hurry past, shamed of face, and think +on no more. But this morning everything I met +seemed to be accounted for and set in tune by +that same magical touch in the air; and it was +with a certain surprise that I found myself regarding +these fatuous ones with kindliness instead +of contempt, as I rambled by, unheeded of +them. There was indeed some reconciling influence +abroad, which could bring the like antics +into harmony with bud and growth and the frolic +air.</p> + +<p>A puff on the right cheek from my wilful companion +sent me off at a fresh angle, and presently +I came in sight of the village church, +sitting solitary within its circle of elms. From +forth the vestry window projected two small +legs, gyrating, hungry for foothold, with larceny—not +to say sacrilege—in their every wriggle: +a godless sight for a supporter of the Establishment. +Though the rest was hidden, I knew the +legs well enough; they were usually attached<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +to the body of Bill Saunders, the peerless bad +boy of the village. Bill's coveted booty, too, +I could easily guess at that; it came from the +Vicar's store of biscuits, kept (as I knew) in +a cupboard along with his official trappings. +For a moment I hesitated; then I passed on +my way. I protest I was not on Bill's side; +but then, neither was I on the Vicar's, and +there was something in this immoral morning +which seemed to say that perhaps, after all, +Bill had as much right to the biscuits as the +Vicar, and would certainly enjoy them better; +and anyhow it was a disputable point, and no +business of mine. Nature, who had accepted +me for ally, cared little who had the world's +biscuits, and assuredly was not going to let +any friend of hers waste his time in playing +policeman for Society.</p> + +<p>He was tugging at me anew, my insistent +guide; and I felt sure, as I rambled off in his +wake, that he had more holiday matter to show +me. And so, indeed, he had; and all of it +was to the same lawless tune. Like a black +pirate flag on the blue ocean of air, a hawk<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +hung ominous; then, plummet-wise, dropped to +the hedgerow, whence there rose, thin and shrill, +a piteous voice of squealing. By the time I got +there a whisk of feathers on the turf—like +scattered playbills—was all that remained to +tell of the tragedy just enacted. Yet Nature +smiled and sang on, pitiless, gay, impartial. To +her, who took no sides, there was every bit as +much to be said for the hawk as for the chaffinch. +Both were her children, and she would +show no preferences.</p> + +<p>Further on, a hedgehog lay dead athwart +the path—nay, more than dead; decadent, distinctly; +a sorry sight for one that had known +the fellow in more bustling circumstances. +Nature might at least have paused to shed one +tear over this rough-jacketed little son of hers, +for his wasted aims, his cancelled ambitions, +his whole career of usefulness cut suddenly +short. But not a bit of it! Jubilant as ever, +her song went bubbling on, and 'Death-in-Life'—and +again, 'Life-in-Death,' were its +alternate burdens. And looking round, and +seeing the sheep-nibbled heels of turnips that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +dotted the ground, their hearts eaten out of +them in frost-bound days now over and done, I +seemed to discern, faintly, a something of the +stern meaning in her valorous chant.</p> + +<p>My invisible companion was singing also, and +seemed at times to be chuckling softly to himself,—doubtless +at thought of the strange new +lessons he was teaching me; perhaps, too, at a +special bit of waggishness he had still in store. +For when at last he grew weary of such insignificant +earth-bound company, he deserted me at +a certain spot I knew; then dropped, subsided, +and slunk away into nothingness. I raised my +eyes, and before me, grim and lichened, stood +the ancient whipping-post of the village; its +sides fretted with the initials of a generation +that scorned its mute lesson, but still clipped +by the stout rusty shackles that had tethered +the wrists of such of that generation's ancestors +as had dared to mock at order and law. Had I +been an infant Sterne, here was a grand chance +for sentimental output! As things were, I could +only hurry homewards, my moral tail well between +my legs, with an uneasy feeling, as I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +glanced back over my shoulder, that there was +more in this chance than met the eye.</p> + +<p>And outside our gate I found Charlotte, +alone and crying. Edward, it seemed, had +persuaded her to hide, in the full expectation +of being duly found and ecstatically pounced +upon; then he had caught sight of the butcher's +cart, and, forgetting his obligations, had rushed +off for a ride. Harold, it further appeared, +greatly coveting tadpoles, and top-heavy with +the eagerness of possession, had fallen into the +pond. This, in itself, was nothing; but on +attempting to sneak in by the back-door, he +had rendered up his duckweed-bedabbled person +into the hands of an aunt, and had been promptly +sent off to bed; and this, on a holiday, was very +much. The moral of the whipping-post was +working itself out; and I was not in the least +surprised when, on reaching home, I was seized +upon and accused of doing something I had +never even thought of. And my frame of mind +was such, that I could only wish most heartily +that I had done it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> +<h2>A WHITE-WASHED UNCLE</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IN our small lives that day was eventful when +another uncle was to come down from town, +and submit his character and qualifications (albeit +unconsciously) to our careful criticism. +Earlier uncles had been weighed in the balance, +and—alas!—found grievously wanting. +There was Uncle Thomas—a failure from the +first. Not that his disposition was malevolent, +nor were his habits such as to unfit him for +decent society; but his rooted conviction seemed +to be that the reason of a child's existence was +to serve as a butt for senseless adult jokes—or +what, from the accompanying guffaws of laughter, +appeared to be intended for jokes. Now, +we were anxious that he should have a perfectly +fair trial; so in the tool-house, between breakfast +and lessons, we discussed and examined all +his witticisms one by one, calmly, critically, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>dispassionately. It was no good: we could not +discover any salt in them. And as only a genuine +gift of humour could have saved Uncle +Thomas—for he pretended to naught besides—he +was reluctantly writ down a hopeless +impostor.</div> + +<p>Uncle George—the youngest—was distinctly +more promising. He accompanied us cheerily +round the establishment—suffered himself to be +introduced to each of the cows—held out the +right hand of fellowship to the pig—and even +hinted that a pair of pink-eyed Himalayan +rabbits might arrive—unexpectedly—from +town some day. We were just considering +whether in this fertile soil an apparently accidental +remark on the solid qualities of guinea-pigs +or ferrets might haply blossom and bring +forth fruit, when our governess appeared on +the scene. Uncle George's manner at once +underwent a complete and contemptible change. +His interest in rational topics seemed, 'like a +fountain's sickening pulse,' to flag and ebb +away; and though Miss Smedley's ostensible +purpose was to take Selina for her usual walk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +I can vouch for it that Selina spent her morning +ratting, along with the keeper's boy and me; +while if Miss Smedley walked with any one, +it would appear to have been with Uncle +George.</p> + +<p>But, despicable as his conduct had been, he +underwent no hasty condemnation. The defection +was discussed in all its bearings, but it +seemed sadly clear at last that this uncle must +possess some innate badness of character and +fondness for low company. We who from daily +experience knew Miss Smedley like a book—were +we not only too well aware that she had +neither accomplishments nor charms—no characteristic, +in fact, but an inbred viciousness of +temper and disposition? True, she knew the +dates of the English kings by heart; but how +could that profit Uncle George, who, having +passed into the army, had ascended beyond the +need of useful information? Our bows and +arrows, on the other hand, had been freely +placed at his disposal; and a soldier should not +have hesitated in his choice a moment. No: +Uncle George had fallen from grace, and was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +unanimously damned. And the non-arrival of +the Himalayan rabbits was only another nail +in his coffin. Uncles, therefore, were just then +a heavy and lifeless market, and there was little +inclination to deal. Still it was agreed that +Uncle William, who had just returned from +India, should have as fair a trial as the others; +more especially as romantic possibilities might +well be embodied in one who had held the +gorgeous East in fee.</p> + +<p>Selina had kicked my shins—like the girl +she is!—during a scuffle in the passage, and I +was still rubbing them with one hand when I +found that the uncle-on-approbation was half-heartedly +shaking the other. A florid, elderly +man, quite unmistakably nervous, he let drop +one grimy paw after another, and, turning very +red, with an awkward simulation of heartiness, +'Well, h' are y' all?' he said, 'Glad to see me, +eh?' As we could hardly, in justice, be expected +to have formed an opinion on him at that +early stage, we could but look at each other in +silence; which scarce served to relieve the tension +of the situation. Indeed, the cloud never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +really lifted during his stay. In talking things +over later, some one put forward the suggestion +that he must at some time or other have committed +a stupendous crime. But I could not +bring myself to believe that the man, though +evidently unhappy, was really guilty of anything; +and I caught him once or twice looking +at us with evident kindliness, though, seeing +himself observed, he blushed and turned away +his head.</p> + +<p>When at last the atmosphere was clear of +his depressing influence, we met despondently +in the potato-cellar—all of us, that is, but +Harold, who had been told off to accompany +his relative to the station; and the feeling was +unanimous, that, as an uncle, William could not +be allowed to pass. Selina roundly declared +him a beast, pointing out that he had not even +got us a half-holiday; and, indeed, there seemed +little to do but to pass sentence. We were +about to put it to the vote, when Harold +appeared on the scene; his red face, round eyes, +and mysterious demeanour, hinting at awful +portents. Speechless he stood a space: then,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +slowly drawing his hand from the pocket of his +knickerbockers, he displayed on a dirty palm +one—two—three—four half-crowns! We +could but gaze—tranced, breathless, mute. +Never had any of us seen, in the aggregate, so +much bullion before. Then Harold told his tale.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 328px;"> +<img src="images/ill04.jpg" width="328" height="500" alt="'"I took the old fellow to the station"'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"I took the old fellow to the station"'</span> +</div> + +<p>'I took the old fellow to the station,' he said, +'and as we went along I told him all about the +stationmaster's family, and how I had seen the +porter kissing our housemaid, and what a nice +fellow he was, with no airs or affectation about +him, and anything I thought would be of +interest; but he didn't seem to pay much +attention, but walked along puffing his cigar, +and once I thought—I'm not certain, but I +<i>thought</i>—I heard him say, "Well, thank God, +that's over!" When we got to the station he +stopped suddenly, and said, "Hold on a minute!" +Then he shoved these into my hand in +a frightened sort of way, and said, "Look here, +youngster! These are for you and the other +kids. Buy what you like—make little beasts +of yourselves—only don't tell the old people, +mind! Now cut away home!" So I cut.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p>A solemn hush fell on the assembly, broken +first by the small Charlotte. 'I didn't know,' +she observed dreamily, 'that there were such +good men anywhere in the world. I hope he'll +die to-night, for then he'll go straight to heaven!' +But the repentant Selina bewailed herself with +tears and sobs, refusing to be comforted; for +that in her haste she had called this white-souled +relative a beast.</p> + +<p>'I'll tell you what we'll do,' said Edward, +the master-mind, rising—as he always did—to +the situation: 'We'll christen the piebald pig +after him—the one that hasn't got a name +yet. And that'll show we're sorry for our +mistake!'</p> + +<p>'I—I christened that pig this morning,' +Harold guiltily confessed; 'I christened it after +the curate. I'm very sorry—but he came and +bowled to me last night, after you others had +all been sent to bed early—and somehow I felt +I <i>had</i> to do it!'</p> + +<p>'Oh, but that doesn't count,' said Edward +hastily; 'because we weren't all there. We'll +take that christening off, and call it Uncle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +William. And you can save up the curate for +the next litter!'</p> + +<p>And the motion being agreed to without a +division, the House went into Committee of +Supply.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec002.png" width="400" height="147" alt="Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> +<h2>ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>'LET'S pretend,' suggested Harold, 'that +we're Cavaliers and Roundheads; and +<i>you</i> be a Roundhead!'</div> + +<p>'O bother,' I replied drowsily, 'we pretended +that yesterday; and it's not my turn to be a +Roundhead, anyhow.' The fact is, I was lazy, +and the call to arms fell on indifferent ears. +We three younger ones were stretched at +length in the orchard. The sun was hot, the +season merry June, and never (I thought) had +there been such wealth and riot of buttercups +throughout the lush grass. Green-and-gold was +the dominant key that day. Instead of active +'pretence' with its shouts and its perspiration, +how much better—I held—to lie at ease and +pretend to one's self, in green and golden +fancies, slipping the husk and passing, a careless +lounger, through a sleepy imaginary world all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +gold and green! But the persistent Harold +was not to be fobbed off.</p> + +<p>'Well then,' he began afresh, 'let's pretend +we're Knights of the Round Table; and (with +a rush) <i>I'll</i> be Lancelot!'</p> + +<p>'I won't play unless I'm Lancelot,' I said. +I didn't mean it really, but the game of Knights +always began with this particular contest.</p> + +<p>'O <i>please</i>,' implored Harold. 'You know +when Edward's here I never get a chance of +being Lancelot. I haven't been Lancelot for +weeks!'</p> + +<p>Then I yielded gracefully. 'All right,' I +said. 'I'll be Tristram.'</p> + +<p>'O, but you can't,' cried Harold again. +'Charlotte has always been Tristram. She +won't play unless she's allowed to be Tristram! +Be somebody else this time.'</p> + +<p>Charlotte said nothing, but breathed hard, +looking straight before her. The peerless +hunter and harper was her special hero of +romance, and rather than see the part in less +appreciative hands, she would have gone back +in tears to the stuffy schoolroom.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I don't care,' I said: 'I'll be anything. I'll +be Sir Kay. Come on!'</p> + +<p>Then once more in this country's story the +mail-clad knights paced through the greenwood +shaw, questing adventure, redressing wrong; +and bandits, five to one, broke and fled discomfited +to their caves. Once more were +damsels rescued, dragons disembowelled, and +giants, in every corner of the orchard, deprived +of their already superfluous number of heads; +while Palomides the Saracen waited for us by +the well, and Sir Breuse Saunce Pité vanished +in craven flight before the skilled spear that +was his terror and his bane. Once more the +lists were dight in Camelot, and all was gay +with shimmer of silk and gold; the earth shook +with thunder of hooves, ash-staves flew in +splinters, and the firmament rang to the clash +of sword on helm. The varying fortune of the +day swung doubtful—now on this side, now +on that; till at last Lancelot, grim and great, +thrusting through the press, unhorsed Sir Tristram +(an easy task), and bestrode her, threatening +doom; while the Cornish knight, forgetting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +hard-won fame of old, cried piteously, 'You're +hurting me, I tell you! and you're tearing my +frock!' Then it happed that Sir Kay, hurtling +to the rescue, stopped short in his stride, catching +sight suddenly, through apple-boughs, of a +gleam of scarlet afar off; while the confused +tramp of many horses, mingled with talk and +laughter, was borne to the ears of his fellow-champions +and himself.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 320px;"> +<img src="images/ill05.jpg" width="320" height="500" alt="'Once more were damsels rescued, dragons disembowelled, and giants'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'Once more were damsels rescued, dragons disembowelled, and giants'</span> +</div> + +<p>'What is it?' inquired Tristram, sitting up +and shaking out her curls; while Lancelot forsook +the clanging lists and trotted nimbly to +the boundary-hedge.</p> + +<p>I stood spell-bound for a moment longer, and +then, with a cry of 'Soldiers!' I was off to the +hedge, Sir Tristram picking herself up and +scurrying after us.</p> + +<p>Down the road they came, two and two, at an +easy walk; scarlet flamed in the eye, bits jingled +and saddles squeaked delightfully; while the +men, in a halo of dust, smoked their short +clays like the heroes they were. In a swirl of +intoxicating glory the troop clinked and clattered +by, while we shouted and waved, jumping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +up and down, and the big jolly horsemen +acknowledged the salute with easy condescension. +The moment they were past we were +through the hedge and after them. Soldiers +were not the common stuff of everyday life. +There had been nothing like this since the +winter before last, when on a certain afternoon—bare +of leaf and monochromatic in its hue +of sodden fallow and frost-nipt copse—suddenly +the hounds had burst through the fence with +their mellow cry, and all the paddock was for +the minute reverberant of thudding hoof and +dotted with glancing red. But this was better, +since it could only mean that blows and bloodshed +were in the air.</p> + +<p>'Is there going to be a battle?' panted Harold, +hardly able to keep up for excitement.</p> + +<p>'Of course there is,' I replied. 'We're just +in time. Come on!'</p> + +<p>Perhaps I ought to have known better; and +yet——? The pigs and poultry, with whom we +chiefly consorted, could instruct us little concerning +the peace that lapped in these latter +days our seagirt realm. In the schoolroom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +we were just now dallying with the Wars of the +Roses; and did not legends of the country-side +inform us how cavaliers had once galloped up +and down these very lanes from their quarters +in the village? Here, now, were soldiers unmistakable; +and if their business was not fighting, +what was it? Sniffing the joy of battle, we +followed hard in their tracks.</p> + +<p>'Won't Edward be sorry,' puffed Harold, +'that he's begun that beastly Latin?'</p> + +<p>It did, indeed, seem hard. Edward, the most +martial spirit of us all, was drearily conjugating +<i>amo</i> (of all verbs!) between four walls; while +Selina, who ever thrilled ecstatic to a red coat, +was struggling with the uncouth German tongue. +'Age,' I reflected, 'carries its penalties.'</p> + +<p>It was a grievous disappointment to us that +the troop passed through the village unmolested. +Every cottage, I pointed out to my companions, +ought to have been loopholed, and strongly held. +But no opposition was offered to the soldiers: +who, indeed, conducted themselves with a recklessness +and a want of precaution that seemed +simply criminal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>At the last cottage a transitory gleam of +common sense flickered across me, and, turning +on Charlotte, I sternly ordered her back. The +small maiden, docile but exceedingly dolorous, +dragged reluctant feet homewards, heavy at +heart that she was to behold no stout fellows +slain that day; but Harold and I held steadily +on, expecting every instant to see the environing +hedges crackle and spit forth the leaden death.</p> + +<p>'Will they be Indians?' asked my brother +(meaning the enemy) 'or Roundheads, or +what?'</p> + +<p>I reflected. Harold always required direct +straightforward answers—not faltering suppositions.</p> + +<p>'They won't be Indians,' I replied at last; +'nor yet Roundheads. There haven't been +any Roundheads seen about here for a long +time. They'll be Frenchmen.'</p> + +<p>Harold's face fell. 'All right,' he said: +'Frenchmen'll do; but I did hope they'd +be Indians.'</p> + +<p>'If they were going to be Indians,' I explained, +'I—I don't think I'd go on. Because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +when Indians take you prisoner they scalp +you first, and then burn you at the stake. But +Frenchmen don't do that sort of thing.'</p> + +<p>'Are you quite sure?' asked Harold doubtfully.</p> + +<p>'Quite,' I replied. 'Frenchmen only shut +you up in a thing called the Bastille; and then +you get a file sent in to you in a loaf of bread, +and saw the bars through, and slide down a +rope, and they all fire at you—but they don't +hit you—and you run down to the seashore as +hard as you can, and swim off to a British +frigate, and there you are!'</p> + +<p>Harold brightened up again. The programme +was rather attractive. 'If they try to take us +prisoner,' he said, 'we—we won't run, will +we?'</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the craven foe was a long time +showing himself; and we were reaching strange +outland country, uncivilised, wherein lions might +be expected to prowl at nightfall. I had a +stitch in my side, and both Harold's stockings +had come down. Just as I was beginning to +have gloomy doubts of the proverbial courage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +of Frenchmen, the officer called out something, +the men closed up, and, breaking into a trot, +the troops—already far ahead—vanished out +of our sight. With a sinking at the heart, I +began to suspect we had been fooled.</p> + +<p>'Are they charging?' cried Harold, very +weary, but rallying gamely.</p> + +<p>'I think not,' I replied doubtfully. 'When +there's going to be a charge, the officer always +makes a speech, and then they draw their swords +and the trumpets blow, and——but let's try a +short cut. We may catch them up yet.'</p> + +<p>So we struck across the fields and into +another road, and pounded down that, and +then over more fields, panting, down-hearted, +yet hoping for the best. The sun went in, and +a thin drizzle began to fall; we were muddy, +breathless, almost dead-beat; but we blundered +on, till at last we struck a road more brutally, +more callously unfamiliar than any road I ever +looked upon. Not a hint nor a sign of friendly +direction or assistance on the dogged white face +of it! There was no longer any disguising it: +we were hopelessly lost. The small rain continued<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +steadily, the evening began to come +on. Really there are moments when a fellow +is justified in crying; and I would have cried +too, if Harold had not been there. That right-minded +child regarded an elder brother as a +veritable god; and I could see that he felt +himself as secure as if a whole Brigade of +Guards had hedged him round with protecting +bayonets. But I dreaded sore lest he should +begin again with his questions.</p> + +<p>As I gazed in dumb appeal on the face +of unresponsive nature, the sound of nearing +wheels sent a pulse of hope through my being: +increasing to rapture as I recognised in the +approaching vehicle the familiar carriage of the +old doctor. If ever a god emerged from a +machine, it was when this heaven-sent friend, +recognising us, stopped and jumped out with a +cheery hail. Harold rushed up to him at once. +'Have you been there?' he cried. 'Was it a +jolly fight? who beat? were there many people +killed?'</p> + +<p>The doctor appeared puzzled. I briefly explained +the situation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I see,' said the doctor, looking grave and +twisting his face this way and that. 'Well, +the fact is, there isn't going to be any battle +to-day. It's been put off, on account of the +change in the weather. You will have due +notice of the renewal of hostilities. And now +you'd better jump in and I'll drive you home. +You've been running a fine rig! Why, you +might have both been taken and shot as spies!'</p> + +<p>This special danger had never even occurred +to us. The thrill of it accentuated the cosy +homelike feeling of the cushions we nestled into +as we rolled homewards. The doctor beguiled +the journey with blood-curdling narratives of +personal adventure in the tented field, he having +followed the profession of arms (so it seemed) +in every quarter of the globe. Time, the destroyer +of all things beautiful, subsequently +revealed the baselessness of these legends; but +what of that? There are higher things than +truth; and we were almost reconciled, by the +time we were put down at our gate, to the fact +that the battle had been postponed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE FINDING OF THE PRINCESS</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IT was the day I was promoted to a toothbrush. +The girls, irrespective of age, had +been thus distinguished some time before; why, +we boys could never rightly understand, except +that it was part and parcel of a system of +studied favouritism on behalf of creatures both +physically inferior and (as was shown by a +fondness for tale-bearing) of weaker mental +fibre to us boys. It was not that we yearned +after these strange instruments in themselves. +Edward, indeed, applied his to the scrubbing-out +of his squirrel's cage, and for personal use, +when a superior eye was grim on him, borrowed +Harold's or mine, indifferently. But the nimbus +of distinction that clung to them—that we +coveted exceedingly. What more, indeed, was +there to ascend to, before the remote, but still +possible, razor and strop?</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>Perhaps the exaltation had mounted to my +head; or nature and the perfect morning joined +to hint at disaffection. Anyhow, having breakfasted, +and triumphantly repeated the collect +I had broken down in the last Sunday—'t was +one without rhythm or alliteration: a most +objectionable collect—having achieved thus +much, the small natural man in me rebelled, +and I vowed, as I straddled and spat about the +stable-yard in feeble imitation of the coachman, +that lessons might go to the Inventor of them. +It was only geography that morning, any way: +and the practical thing was worth any quantity +of bookish theoric. As for me, I was going on +my travels, and imports and exports, populations +and capitals, might very well wait while I explored +the breathing coloured world outside.</p> + +<p>True, a fellow-rebel was wanted; and Harold +might, as a rule, have been counted on with +certainty. But just then Harold was very +proud. The week before he had 'gone into +tables,' and had been endowed with a new slate, +having a miniature sponge attached wherewith +we washed the faces of Charlotte's dolls, thereby<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +producing an unhealthy pallor which struck +terror into the child's heart, always timorous +regarding epidemic visitations. As to 'tables,' +nobody knew exactly what they were, least of +all Harold; but it was a step over the heads +of the rest, and therefore a subject for self-adulation +and—generally speaking—airs; so +that Harold, hugging his slate and his chains, +was out of the question now. In such a matter, +girls were worse than useless, as wanting the +necessary tenacity of will and contempt for self-constituted +authority. So eventually I slipped +through the hedge a solitary protestant, and +issued forth on the lane what time the rest of the +civilised world was sitting down to lessons.</p> + +<p>The scene was familiar enough; and yet, this +morning, how different it all seemed! The act, +with its daring, tinted everything with new +strange hues; affecting the individual with a +sort of bruised feeling just below the pit of the +stomach, that was intensified whenever his +thoughts flew back to the ink-stained smelly +schoolroom. And could this be really me? or +was I only contemplating, from the schoolroom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +aforesaid, some other jolly young mutineer, +faring forth under the genial sun? Anyhow, +here was the friendly well, in its old place, half-way +up the lane. Hither the yoke-shouldering +village-folk were wont to come to fill their +clinking buckets; when the drippings made +worms of wet in the thick dust of the road. +They had flat wooden crosses inside each pail, +which floated on the top and (we were instructed) +served to prevent the water from +slopping over. We used to wonder by what +magic this strange principle worked, and who +first invented the crosses, and whether he got +a peerage for it. But indeed the well was a +centre of mystery, for a hornet's nest was +somewhere hard by, and the very thought was +fearsome. Wasps we knew well and disdained, +storming them in their fastnesses. But these +great Beasts, vestured in angry orange, three +stings from which—so 'twas averred—would +kill a horse, these were of a different kidney, +and their dreadful drone suggested prudence +and retreat. At this time neither villagers nor +hornets encroached on the stillness: lessons,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +apparently, pervaded all nature. So, after +dabbling awhile in the well—what boy has +ever passed a bit of water without messing in +it?—I scrambled through the hedge, shunning +the hornet-haunted side, and struck into the +silence of the copse.</p> + +<p>If the lane had been deserted, this was loneliness +become personal. Here mystery lurked +and peeped; here brambles caught and held +you with a purpose of their own; here saplings +whipped your face with human spite. The +copse, too, proved vaster in extent, more direfully +drawn out, than one would ever have +guessed from its frontage on the lane: and I +was really glad when at last the wood opened +and sloped down to a streamlet brawling forth +into the sunlight. By this cheery companion +I wandered along, conscious of little but that +Nature, in providing store of water-rats, had +thoughtfully furnished provender of right-sized +stones. Rapids, also, there were, telling of +canoes and portages—crinkling bays and inlets—caves +for pirates and hidden treasures—the +wise Dame had forgotten nothing—till at last,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +after what lapse of time I know not, my further +course, though not the stream's, was barred by +some six feet of stout wire netting, stretched +from side to side just where a thick hedge, +arching till it touched, forbade all further +view.</p> + +<p>The excitement of the thing was becoming +thrilling. A Black Flag must surely be fluttering +close by? Here was most plainly a malignant +contrivance of the Pirates, designed to +baffle our gun-boats when we dashed up-stream +to shell them from their lair! A gun-boat, +indeed, might well have hesitated, so stout was +the netting, so close the hedge. But I spied +where a rabbit was wont to pass, close down +by the water's edge; where a rabbit could go +a boy could follow, howbeit stomach-wise and +with one leg in the stream; so the passage was +achieved, and I stood inside, safe but breathless +at the sight.</p> + +<p>Gone was the brambled waste, gone the +flickering tangle of woodland. Instead, terrace +after terrace of shaven sward, stone-edged, urn-cornered, +stepped delicately down to where the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +stream, now tamed and educated, passed from +one to another marble basin, in which on occasion +gleams of red hinted at gold-fish poised +among the spreading water-lilies. The scene +lay silent and slumbrous in the brooding noon-day +sun: the drowsing peacock squatted humped +on the lawn, no fish leaped in the pools, no bird +declared himself from the trim secluding hedges. +Self-confessed it was here, then, at last, the +Garden of Sleep!</p> + +<p>Two things, in those old days, I held in +especial distrust: gamekeepers and gardeners. +Seeing, however, no baleful apparitions of +either quality, I pursued my way between rich +flower-beds, in search of the necessary Princess. +Conditions declared her presence patently as +trumpets; without this centre such surroundings +could not exist. A pavilion, gold-topped, +wreathed with lush jessamine, beckoned with +a special significance over close-set shrubs. +There, if anywhere, She should be enshrined. +Instinct, and some knowledge of the habits of +princesses, triumphed; for (indeed) there She +was! In no tranced repose, however, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +laughingly, struggling to disengage her hand +from the grasp of a grown-up man who occupied +the marble bench with her. (As to age, +I suppose now that the two swung in respective +scales that pivoted on twenty. But children +heed no minor distinctions. To them, the +inhabited world is composed of the two main +divisions: children and upgrown people; the +latter in no way superior to the former—only +hopelessly different. These two, then, belonged +to the grown-up section.) I paused, thinking it +strange they should prefer seclusion when there +were fish to be caught, and butterflies to hunt +in the sun outside; and as I cogitated thus, +the grown-up man caught sight of me.</p> + +<p>'Hallo, sprat!' he said with some abruptness; +'Where do you spring from?'</p> + +<p>'I came up the stream,' I explained politely +and comprehensively, 'and I was only looking +for the Princess.'</p> + +<p>'Then you are a water-baby,' he replied. +'And what do you think of the Princess, now +you've found her?'</p> + +<p>'I think she is lovely,' I said (and doubtless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +I was right, having never learned to flatter). +'But she's wide-awake, so I suppose somebody +has kissed her!'</p> + +<p>This very natural deduction moved the +grown-up man to laughter; but the Princess, +turning red and jumping up, declared that it +was time for lunch.</p> + +<p>'Come along, then,' said the grown-up man; +'and you too, water-baby. Come and have +something solid. You must want it.'</p> + +<p>I accompanied them without any feeling of +false delicacy. The world, as known to me, +was spread with food each several mid-day, +and the particular table one sat at seemed a +matter of no importance. The palace was very +sumptuous and beautiful, just what a palace +ought to be; and we were met by a stately lady, +rather more grown-up than the Princess—apparently +her mother. My friend the Man was +very kind, and introduced me as the Captain, +saying I had just run down from Aldershot. I +didn't know where Aldershot was, but I had no +manner of doubt that he was perfectly right. +As a rule, indeed, grown-up people are fairly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +correct on matters of fact; it is in the higher +gift of imagination that they are so sadly to +seek.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 316px;"> +<img src="images/ill06.jpg" width="316" height="500" alt="'Lulled by the trickle of water, I slipped into dreamland'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'Lulled by the trickle of water, I slipped into dreamland'</span> +</div> + +<p>The lunch was excellent and varied. Another +gentleman in beautiful clothes—a lord +presumably—lifted me into a high carved +chair, and stood behind it, brooding over me +like a Providence. I endeavoured to explain +who I was and where I had come from, and +to impress the company with my own toothbrush +and Harold's tables; but either they +were stupid—or is it a characteristic of Fairyland +that every one laughs at the most ordinary +remarks? My friend the Man said good-naturedly, +'All right, Water-baby; you came up +the stream, and that's good enough for us.' +The lord—a reserved sort of man, I thought—took +no share in the conversation.</p> + +<p>After lunch I walked on the terrace with +the Princess and my friend the Man, and was +very proud. And I told him what I was going +to be, and he told me what he was going to be; +and then I remarked, 'I suppose you two are +going to get married?' He only laughed, after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +the Fairy fashion. 'Because if you aren't,' I +added, 'you really ought to': meaning only +that a man who discovered a Princess, living +in the right sort of Palace like this, and didn't +marry her there and then, was false to all +recognised tradition.</p> + +<p>They laughed again, and my friend suggested +I should go down to the pond and look at the +gold-fish, while they went for a stroll. I was +sleepy, and assented; but before they left me, +the grown-up man put two half-crowns in my +hand, for the purpose, he explained, of treating +the other water-babies. I was so touched by +this crowning mark of friendship that I nearly +cried; and I thought much more of his generosity +than of the fact that the Princess, ere she +moved away, stooped down and kissed me.</p> + +<p>I watched them disappear down the path—how +naturally arms seem to go round waists in +Fairyland!—and then, my cheek on the cool +marble, lulled by the trickle of water, I slipped +into dreamland out of real and magic world +alike. When I woke, the sun had gone in, a +chill wind set all the leaves a-whispering, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +the peacock on the lawn was harshly calling up +the rain. A wild unreasoning panic possessed +me, and I sped out of the garden like a guilty +thing, wriggled through the rabbit-run, and +threaded my doubtful way homewards, hounded +by nameless terrors. The half-crowns happily +remained solid and real to the touch; but could +I hope to bear such treasure safely through the +brigand-haunted wood? It was a dirty, weary +little object that entered its home, at nightfall, +by the unassuming aid of the scullery-window: +and only to be sent tealess to bed seemed infinite +mercy to him. Officially tealess, that is; +for, as was usual after such escapades, a sympathetic +housemaid, coming delicately by backstairs, +stayed him with chunks of cold pudding +and condolence, till his small skin was tight as +any drum. Then, nature asserting herself, I +passed into the comforting kingdom of sleep, +where, a golden carp of fattest build, I oared +it in translucent waters with a new half-crown +snug under right fin and left; and thrust up a +nose through water-lily leaves to be kissed by +a rose-flushed Princess.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> +<h2>SAWDUST AND SIN</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>A BELT of rhododendrons grew close down +to one side of our pond; and along the +edge of it many things flourished rankly. If you +crept through the undergrowth and crouched by +the water's rim, it was easy—if your imagination +were in healthy working order—to transport +yourself in a trice to the heart of a tropical +forest. Overhead the monkeys chattered, parrots +flashed from bough to bough, strange large +blossoms shone all round you, and the push and +rustle of great beasts moving unseen thrilled +you deliciously. And if you lay down with +your nose an inch or two from the water, it +was not long ere the old sense of proportion +vanished clean away. The glittering insects +that darted to and fro on its surface became +sea-monsters dire, the gnats that hung above +them swelled to albatrosses, and the pond itself +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>stretched out into a vast inland sea, whereon a +navy might ride secure, and whence at any +moment the hairy scalp of a sea-serpent might +be seen to emerge.</div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 338px;"> +<img src="images/ill07.jpg" width="338" height="500" alt="'It was easy . . . to transport yourself in a trice to the heart of a tropical forest'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'It was easy . . . to transport yourself in a trice to the heart of a tropical forest'</span> +</div> + +<p>It is impossible, however, to play at tropical +forests properly, when homely accents of the +human voice intrude; and all my hopes of +seeing a tiger seized by a crocodile while +drinking (<i>vide</i> picture-books, <i>passim</i>) vanished +abruptly, and earth resumed her old dimensions, +when the sound of Charlotte's prattle somewhere +hard by broke in on my primæval seclusion. +Looking out from the bushes, I saw her trotting +towards an open space of lawn the other side +the pond, chattering to herself in her accustomed +fashion, a doll tucked under either arm, and her +brow knit with care. Propping up her double +burthen against a friendly stump, she sat down +in front of them, as full of worry and anxiety as +a Chancellor on a Budget night.</p> + +<p>Her victims, who stared resignedly in front +of them, were recognisable as Jerry and Rosa. +Jerry hailed from far Japan: his hair was +straight and black, his one garment cotton of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +a simple blue; and his reputation was distinctly +bad. Jerome was his proper name, from his +supposed likeness to the holy man who hung in +a print on the staircase; though a shaven crown +was the only thing in common 'twixt Western +saint and Eastern sinner. Rosa was typical +British, from her flaxen poll to the stout calves +she displayed so liberally; and in character she +was of the blameless order of those who have +not yet been found out.</p> + +<p>I suspected Jerry from the first. There was +a latent devilry in his slant eyes as he sat there +moodily; and knowing what he was capable of, +I scented trouble in store for Charlotte. Rosa +I was not so sure about; she sat demurely and +upright, and looked far away into the tree-tops +in a visionary, world-forgetting sort of way; yet +the prim purse of her mouth was somewhat +overdone, and her eyes glittered unnaturally.</p> + +<p>'Now, I'm going to begin where I left off,' +said Charlotte, regardless of stops, and thumping +the turf with her fist excitedly: 'and you +must pay attention, 'cos this is a treat, to have a +story told you before you're put to bed. Well,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +so the White Rabbit scuttled off down the +passage and Alice hoped he'd come back 'cos +he had a waistcoat on and her flamingo flew up +a tree—but we haven't got to that part yet, you +must wait a minute, and—where had I got to?'</p> + +<p>Jerry only remained passive until Charlotte +had got well under way, and then began to +heel over quietly in Rosa's direction. His +head fell on her plump shoulder, causing her +to start nervously.</p> + +<p>Charlotte seized and shook him with vigour. +'O Jerry,' she cried piteously, 'if you're not +going to be good, how ever shall I tell you my +story?'</p> + +<p>Jerry's face was injured innocence itself. +'Blame if you like, Madam,' he seemed to +say, 'the eternal laws of gravitation, but not a +helpless puppet, who is also an orphan and a +stranger in the land.'</p> + +<p>'Now we'll go on,' began Charlotte once +more. 'So she got into the garden at last—I've +left out a lot but you won't care, I'll tell +you some other time—and they were all playing +croquet, and that's where the flamingo comes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +in, and the Queen shouted out, "Off with her +head!"'</p> + +<p>At this point Jerry collapsed forward, suddenly +and completely, his bald pate between +his knees. Charlotte was not very angry this +time. The sudden development of tragedy in +the story had evidently been too much for the +poor fellow. She straightened him out, wiped +his nose, and, after trying him in various positions, +to which he refused to adapt himself, +she propped him against the shoulder of the +(apparently) unconscious Rosa. Then my eyes +were opened, and the full measure of Jerry's +infamy became apparent. This, then, was what +he had been playing up for! The rascal had +designs, had he? I resolved to keep him under +close observation.</p> + +<p>'If you'd been in the garden,' went on +Charlotte reproachfully, 'and flopped down +like that when the Queen said "Off with his +head!" she'd have offed with your head; but +Alice wasn't that sort of girl at all. She just +said, "I'm not afraid of you, you're nothing +but a pack of cards"—O dear! I've got to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +the end already, and I hadn't begun hardly! I +never can make my stories last out! Never +mind, I'll tell you another one.'</p> + +<p>Jerry didn't seem to care, now he had gained +his end, whether the stories lasted out or not. +He was nestling against Rosa's plump form +with a look of satisfaction that was simply +idiotic; and one arm had disappeared from +view—was it round her waist? Rosa's natural +blush seemed deeper than usual, her head inclined +shyly—it must have been round her +waist.</p> + +<p>'If it wasn't so near your bedtime,' continued +Charlotte reflectively, 'I'd tell you a nice story +with a bogy in it. But you'd be frightened, +and you'd dream of bogies all night. So I'll +tell you one about a White Bear, only you +mustn't scream when the bear says 'Wow,' like +I used to, 'cos he's a good bear really——'</p> + +<p>Here Rosa fell flat on her back in the deadest +of faints. Her limbs were rigid, her eyes glassy. +What had Jerry been doing? It must have +been something very bad, for her to take on +like that. I scrutinised him carefully, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +Charlotte ran to comfort the damsel. He appeared +to be whistling a tune and regarding the +scenery. If I only possessed Jerry's command +of feature, I thought to myself, half regretfully, +I would never be found out in anything.</p> + +<p>'It's all your fault, Jerry,' said Charlotte +reproachfully, when the lady had been restored +to consciousness: 'Rosa's as good as gold +except when you make her wicked. I'd put +you in the corner, only a stump hasn't got a +corner—wonder why that is? Thought everything +had corners. Never mind, you'll have to +sit with your face to the wall—so. Now you +can sulk if you like!'</p> + +<p>Jerry seemed to hesitate a moment between +the bliss of indulgence in sulks with a sense of +injury, and the imperious summons of beauty +waiting to be wooed at his elbow; then, over-mastered +by his passion, he fell sideways across +Rosa's lap. One arm stuck stiffly upwards, as +in passionate protestation; his amorous countenance +was full of entreaty. Rosa hesitated—wavered—yielded, +crushing his slight frame +under the weight of her full-bodied surrender.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>Charlotte had stood a good deal, but it was +possible to abuse even her patience. Snatching +Jerry from his lawless embraces, she reversed +him across her knee, and then—the outrage +offered to the whole superior sex in Jerry's +hapless person was too painful to witness; but +though I turned my head away the sound of +brisk slaps continued to reach my tingling ears. +When I dared to look again, Jerry was sitting +up as before; his garment, somewhat crumpled, +was restored to its original position; but his +pallid countenance was set hard. Knowing as +I did, only too well, what a volcano of passion +and shame must be seething under that impassive +exterior, for the moment I felt sorry for him.</p> + +<p>Rosa's face was still buried in her frock; it +might have been shame, it might have been +grief for Jerry's sufferings. But the callous +Japanese never even looked her way. His +heart was exceeding bitter within him. In +merely following up his natural impulses he had +run his head against convention, and learned +how hard a thing it was; and the sunshiny +world was all black to him. Even Charlotte<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +softened somewhat at the sight of his rigid +misery. 'If you'll say you're sorry, Jerome,' +she said, 'I'll say I'm sorry, too.'</p> + +<p>Jerry only dropped his shoulders against the +stump and stared out in the direction of his dear +native Japan, where love was no sin, and smacking +had not been introduced. Why had he ever +left it? He would go back to-morrow! And +yet there were obstacles: another grievance. +Nature, in endowing Jerry with every grace of +form and feature, along with a sensitive soul, +had somehow forgotten the gift of locomotion.</p> + +<p>There was a crackling in the bushes behind +me, with sharp short pants as of a small steam-engine, +and Rollo, the black retriever, just +released from his chain by some friendly hand, +burst through the underwood, seeking congenial +company. I joyfully hailed him to stop and be +a panther, but he sped away round the pond, +upset Charlotte with a boisterous caress, and +seizing Jerry by the middle, disappeared with +him down the drive. Charlotte panting, raved +behind the swift-footed avenger of crime; Rosa +lay dishevelled, bereft of consciousness; Jerry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +himself spread helpless arms to heaven, and I +almost thought I heard a cry for mercy, a tardy +promise of amendment. But it was too late. +The Black Man had got Jerry at last; and +though the tear of sensibility might bedew an +eye or two for his lost sake, no one who really +knew him could deny the justice of his fate.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec003.png" width="400" height="162" alt="Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> +<h2>'YOUNG ADAM CUPID'</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>NOBODY would have suspected Edward +of being in love, had it not been that +after breakfast, with an overacted carelessness, +'Anybody who likes,' he said, 'can feed my +rabbits,' and he disappeared, with a jauntiness +that deceived nobody, in the direction of the +orchard. Now kingdoms might totter and reel, +and convulsions play skittles with the map of +Europe; but the iron unwritten law prevailed, +that each boy severely fed his own rabbits. +There was good ground, then, for suspicion and +alarm; and while the lettuce leaves were being +drawn through the wires, Harold and I conferred +seriously on the situation.</div> + +<p>It may be thought that the affair was none +of our business; and indeed we cared little +as individuals. We were only concerned as +members of a corporation, for each of whom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +the mental or physical ailment of one of his +fellows might have far-reaching effects. It was +thought best that Harold, as least open to suspicion +of motive, should be despatched to probe +and peer. His instructions were, to proceed by +a report on the health of our rabbits in particular; +to glide gently into a discussion concerning +rabbits in general, their customs, practices, and +vices; and to pass thence, by a natural transition, +to the female sex, the inherent flaws in its +composition, and the reasons for regarding it +(speaking broadly) as dirt. He was especially +to be very diplomatic, and then to return and +report progress. He departed on his mission +gaily; but his absence was short, and his return, +discomfited and in tears, seemed to betoken +some want of parts for diplomacy. He had +found Edward, it appeared, pacing the orchard, +with the sort of set smile that mountebanks +wear in their precarious antics, fixed painfully +on his face, as with pins. Harold had opened +well, on the rabbit subject, but, with a fatal +confusion between the abstract and the concrete, +had then gone on to remark that Edward's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +lop-eared doe, with her long hindlegs and contemptuous +twitch of the nose, always reminded +him of Sabina Larkin (a nine-year-old damsel, +child of a neighbouring farmer): at which point +Edward, it would seem, had turned upon and +savagely maltreated him, twisting his arm and +punching him in the short ribs. So that Harold +returned to the rabbit-hutches preceded by long-drawn +wails: anon wishing, with tears and sobs, +that he were a man, to kick his love-lorn +brother; anon lamenting that ever he had been +born.</p> + +<p>I was not big enough to stand up to Edward +personally, so I had to console the sufferer by +allowing him to grease the wheels of the donkey-cart—a +luscious treat that had been specially +reserved for me, a week past, by the gardener's +boy, for putting in a good word on his behalf +with the new kitchen-maid. Harold was soon +all smiles and grease; and I was not, on the +whole, dissatisfied with the significant hint that +had been gained as to the <i>fons et origo mali</i>.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, means were at hand for resolving +any doubts on the subject, since the morning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +was Sunday, and already the bells were ringing +for church. Lest the connexion may not be +evident at first sight, I should explain that +the gloomy period of church-time, with its +enforced inaction and its lack of real interest—passed, +too, within sight of all that the village +held of fairest—was just the one when a young +man's fancies lightly turned to thoughts of love. +The rest of the week afforded no leisure for +such trifling; but in church—well, there was +really nothing else to do! True, noughts-and-crosses +might be indulged in on flyleaves of +prayer-books while the Litany dragged its slow +length along; but what balm or what solace +could be found for the Sermon? Naturally the +eye, wandering here and there among the serried +ranks, made bold untrammelled choice among +our fair fellow-supplicants. It was in this way +that, some months earlier, under the exceptional +strain of the Athanasian Creed, my roving fancy +had settled upon the baker's wife as a fit object +for a life-long devotion. Her riper charms had +conquered a heart which none of her be-muslined +tittering juniors had been able to subdue; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +that she was already wedded had never occurred +to me as any bar to my affection. Edward's +general demeanour, then, during morning service +was safe to convict him; but there was also a +special test for the particular case. It happened +that we sat in a transept, and, the Larkins being +behind us, Edward's only chance of feasting on +Sabina's charms was in the all-too fleeting interval +when we swung round eastwards. I was not +mistaken. During the singing of the Benedictus +the impatient one made several false starts, and +at last he slewed fairly round before 'As it was +in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be' was +half finished. The evidence was conclusive: a +court of law could have desired no better.</p> + +<p>The fact being patent, the next thing was +to grapple with it; and my mind was fully +occupied during the sermon. There was really +nothing unfair or unbrotherly in my attitude. +A philosophic affection such as mine own, which +clashed with nothing, was (I held) permissible; +but the volcanic passions in which Edward +indulged about once a quarter were a serious +interference with business. To make matters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +worse, next week there was a circus coming to +the neighbourhood, to which we had all been +strictly forbidden to go; and without Edward +no visit in contempt of law and orders could be +successfully brought off. I had sounded him +as to the circus on our way to church, and he +had replied briefly that the very thought of a +clown made him sick. Morbidity could no +further go. But the sermon came to an end +without any line of conduct having suggested +itself; and I walked home in some depression, +feeling sadly that Venus was in the ascendant +and in direful opposition, while Auriga—the +circus star—drooped declinant, perilously near +the horizon.</p> + +<p>By the irony of fate, Aunt Eliza, of all +people, turned out to be the <i>Dea ex machinâ</i>. +The thing fell out in this wise. It was that +lady's obnoxious practice to issue forth, of a +Sunday afternoon, on a visit of state to such +farmers and cottagers as dwelt at hand; on +which occasion she was wont to hale a reluctant +boy along with her, from the mixed motives of +propriety and his soul's health. Much cudgelling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +of brains, I suppose, had on that particular +day made me torpid and unwary. Anyhow, +when a victim came to be sought for, I fell an +easy prey, while the others fled scatheless and +whooping. Our first visit was to the Larkins. +Here ceremonial might be viewed in its finest +flower, and we conducted ourselves, like Queen +Elizabeth when she trod the measure, 'high and +disposedly.' In the low oak-panelled parlour +cake and currant wine were set forth, and, after +courtesies and compliments exchanged, Aunt +Eliza, greatly condescending, talked the fashions +with Mrs. Larkin; while the farmer and I, +perspiring with the unusual effort, exchanged +remarks on the mutability of the weather and +the steady fall in the price of corn. (Who +would have thought, to hear us, that only two +short days ago we had confronted each other on +either side of a hedge? I triumphant, provocative, +derisive? He flushed, wroth, cracking his +whip, and volleying forth profanity? So powerful +is all-subduing ceremony!) Sabina the +while, demurely seated with a <i>Pilgrim's +Progress</i> on her knee, and apparently absorbed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +in a brightly-coloured presentment of 'Apollyon +Straddling Right across the Way,' eyed me at +times with shy interest; but repelled all Aunt +Eliza's advances with a frigid politeness for +which I could not sufficiently admire her.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 319px;"> +<img src="images/ill08.jpg" width="319" height="500" alt="'Who would have thought . . . that only two short days ago we had confronted each other on either side of a hedge'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'Who would have thought . . . that only two short days ago we had confronted each other on either side of a hedge'</span> +</div> + +<p>'It's surprising to me,' I heard my aunt +remark presently, 'how my eldest nephew, +Edward, despises little girls. I heard him tell +Charlotte the other day that he wished he could +exchange her for a pair of Japanese guinea-pigs. +It made the poor child cry. Boys are so +heartless!' (I saw Sabina stiffen as she sat, +and her tip-tilted nose twitched scornfully.) +'Now this boy here——' (my soul descended +into my very boots. Could the woman have +intercepted any of my amorous glances at the +baker's wife?) 'Now this boy,' my aunt went +on, 'is more human altogether. Only yesterday +he took his sister to the baker's shop, and spent +his only penny buying her sweets. I thought +it showed such a nice disposition. I wish +Edward were more like him!'</p> + +<p>I breathed again. It was unnecessary to +explain my real motives for that visit to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +baker's. Sabina's face softened, and her contemptuous +nose descended from its altitude of +scorn; she gave me one shy glance of kindness, +and then concentrated her attention upon Mercy +knocking at the Wicket Gate. I felt awfully +mean as regarded Edward; but what could I +do? I was in Gaza, gagged and bound; the +Philistines hemmed me in.</p> + +<p>The same evening the storm burst, the bolt +fell, and—to continue the metaphor—the +atmosphere grew serene and clear once more. +The evening service was shorter than usual, the +vicar, as he ascended the pulpit steps, having +dropped two pages out of his sermon-case—unperceived +by any but ourselves, either at the +moment or subsequently when the hiatus was +reached; so, as we joyfully shuffled out I +whispered Edward that by racing home at top +speed we should make time to assume our +bows and arrows (laid aside for the day) and +play at Indians and buffaloes with Aunt Eliza's +fowls—already strolling roostwards, regardless +of their doom—before that sedately stepping +lady could return. Edward hung at the door,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +wavering; the suggestion had unhallowed +charms. At that moment Sabina issued primly +forth, and, seeing Edward, put out her tongue +at him in the most exasperating manner conceivable; +then passed on her way, her shoulders +rigid, her dainty head held high. A man can +stand very much in the cause of love: poverty, +aunts, rivals, barriers of every sort, all these +only serve to fan the flame. But personal +ridicule is a shaft that reaches the very vitals. +Edward led the race home at a speed which +one of Ballantyne's heroes might have equalled +but never surpassed; and that evening the +Indians dispersed Aunt Eliza's fowls over +several square miles of country, so that the +tale of them remaineth incomplete unto this +day. Edward himself, cheering wildly, pursued +the big Cochin-China cock till the bird sank +gasping under the drawing-room window, +whereat its mistress stood petrified; and after +supper, in the shrubbery, smoked a half-consumed +cigar he had picked up in the road, and +declared to an awe-stricken audience his final, +his immitigable resolve to go into the army.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + +<p>The crisis was past, and Edward was saved! . . . +And yet . . . <i>sunt lachrymæ rerum</i> . . . to +me watching the cigar-stump alternately pale +and glow against the dark background of laurel, +a vision of a tip-tilted nose, of a small head poised +scornfully, seemed to hover on the gathering +gloom—seemed to grow and fade and grow +again, like the grin of the Cheshire cat—pathetically, +reproachfully even; and the charms of +the baker's wife slipped from my memory like +snow-wreaths in thaw. After all, Sabina was +nowise to blame: why should the child be +punished? To-morrow I would give them the +slip, and stroll round by her garden promiscuous-like, +at a time when the farmer was safe in +the rickyard. If nothing came of it, there was +no harm done; and if on the contrary. . . !</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec004.png" width="400" height="140" alt="Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE BURGLARS</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IT was much too fine a night to think of going +to bed at once, and so, although the witching +hour of nine <span class='smcap'>p.m.</span> had struck, Edward and I +were still leaning out of the open window in +our nightshirts, watching the play of the cedar-branch +shadows on the moonlit lawn, and +planning schemes of fresh devilry for the sunshiny +morrow. From below, strains of the +jocund piano declared that the Olympians were +enjoying themselves in their listless impotent +way; for the new curate had been bidden to +dinner that night, and was at the moment +unclerically proclaiming to all the world that +he feared no foe. His discordant vociferations +doubtless started a train of thought in Edward's +mind, for he presently remarked, <i>à propos</i> of +nothing whatever that had been said before, 'I +believe the new curate's rather gone on Aunt +Maria.'</div> + +<p>I scouted the notion; 'Why, she's quite old,' +I said. (She must have seen some five-and-twenty +summers.)</p> + +<p>'Of course she is,' replied Edward scornfully. +'It's not her, it's her money he's after, you +bet!'</p> + +<p>'Didn't know she had any money,' I observed +timidly.</p> + +<p>'Sure to have,' said my brother with confidence. +'Heaps and heaps.'</p> + +<p>Silence ensued, both our minds being busy +with the new situation thus presented: mine, +in wonderment at this flaw that so often +declared itself in enviable natures of fullest +endowment,—in a grown-up man and a good +cricketer, for instance, even as this curate; +Edward's (apparently) in the consideration of +how such a state of things, supposing it existed, +could be best turned to his own advantage.</p> + +<p>'Bobby Ferris told me,' began Edward in +due course, 'that there was a fellow spooning +his sister once——'</p> + +<p>'What's spooning?' I asked meekly.</p> + +<p>'O <i>I</i> dunno,' said Edward indifferently.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>'It's—it's—it's just a thing they do, you +know. And he used to carry notes and messages +and things between 'em, and he got a +shilling almost every time.'</p> + +<p>'What, from each of 'em?' I innocently +inquired.</p> + +<p>Edward looked at me with scornful pity. +'Girls never have any money,' he briefly explained. +'But she did his exercises, and got +him out of rows, and told stories for him when +he needed it—and much better ones than he +could have made up for himself. Girls are +useful in some ways. So he was living in +clover, when unfortunately they went and +quarrelled about something.'</p> + +<p>'Don't see what that's got to do with it,' I +said.</p> + +<p>'Nor don't I,' rejoined Edward. 'But anyhow +the notes and things stopped, and so did +the shillings. Bobby was fairly cornered, for +he had bought two ferrets on tick, and promised +to pay a shilling a week, thinking the shillings +were going on for ever, the silly young ass. +So when the week was up, and he was being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +dunned for the shilling, he went off to the +fellow and said: "Your broken-hearted Bella +implores you to meet her at sundown. By the +hollow oak as of old, be it only for a moment. +Do not fail!" He got all that out of some +rotten book, of course. The fellow looked +puzzled and said:</p> + +<p>'"What hollow oak? I don't know any +hollow oak."</p> + +<p>'"Perhaps it was the Royal Oak?" said +Bobby promptly, 'cos he saw he had made a +slip, through trusting too much to the rotten +book; but this didn't seem to make the fellow +any happier.'</p> + +<p>'Should think not,' I said, 'the Royal Oak's +an awful low sort of pub.'</p> + +<p>'I know,' said Edward. 'Well, at last the +fellow said, "I think I know what she means: +the hollow tree in your father's paddock. It +happens to be an elm, but she wouldn't know +the difference. All right: say I'll be there." +Bobby hung about a bit, for he hadn't got his +money. "She was crying awfully," he said. +Then he got his shilling.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> + +<p>'And wasn't the fellow riled,' I inquired, +'when he got to the place and found nothing?'</p> + +<p>'He found Bobby,' said Edward indignantly. +'Young Ferris was a gentleman, every inch of +him. He brought the fellow another message +from Bella: "I dare not leave the house. My +cruel parents immure me closely. If you only +knew what I suffer. Your broken-hearted +Bella." Out of the same rotten book. This +made the fellow a little suspicious, 'cos it was +the old Ferrises who had been keen about the +thing all through. The fellow, you see, had +tin.'</p> + +<p>'But what's that got to——' I began again.</p> + +<p>'O <i>I</i> dunno,' said Edward impatiently. 'I'm +telling you just what Bobby told me. He got +suspicious, anyhow, but he couldn't exactly call +Bella's brother a liar, so Bobby escaped for the +time. But when he was in a hole next week, +over a stiff French exercise, and tried the same +sort of game on his sister, she was too sharp for +him, and he got caught out. Somehow women +seem more mistrustful than men. They're so +beastly <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'supicious'">suspicious</ins> by nature, you know.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> + +<p>'<i>I</i> know,' said I. 'But did the two—the +fellow and the sister—make it up afterwards?'</p> + +<p>'I don't remember about that,' replied Edward +indifferently; 'but Bobby got packed off to +school a whole year earlier than his people meant +to send him. Which was just what he wanted. +So you see it all came right in the end!'</p> + +<p>I was trying to puzzle out the moral of this +story—it was evidently meant to contain one +somewhere—when a flood of golden lamplight +mingled with the moon-rays on the lawn, and +Aunt Maria and the new curate strolled out on +the grass below us, and took the direction of a +garden-seat which was backed by a dense laurel +shrubbery reaching round in a half-circle to the +house. Edward meditated moodily. 'If we +only knew what they were talking about,' said +he, 'you'd soon see whether I was right or not. +Look here! Let's send the kid down by the +porch to reconnoitre!'</p> + +<p>'Harold's asleep,' I said; 'it seems rather a +shame——'</p> + +<p>'O rot!' said my brother; 'he's the youngest, +and he's got to do as he's told!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> + +<p>So the luckless Harold was hauled out of +bed and given his sailing-orders. He was +naturally rather vexed at being stood up +suddenly on the cold floor, and the job had no +particular interest for him; but he was both +staunch and well disciplined. The means of +exit were simple enough. A porch of iron +trellis came up to within easy reach of the +window, and was habitually used by all three +of us, when modestly anxious to avoid public +notice. Harold climbed deftly down the porch +like a white rat, and his night-gown glimmered +a moment on the gravel walk ere he was lost to +sight in the darkness of the shrubbery. A brief +interval of silence ensued; broken suddenly by +a sound of scuffle, and then a shrill long-drawn +squeal, as of metallic surfaces in friction. Our +scout had fallen into the hands of the enemy!</p> + +<p>Indolence alone had made us devolve the +task of investigation on our younger brother. +Now that danger had declared itself, there was +no hesitation. In a second we were down the +side of the porch, and crawling Cherokee-wise +through the laurels to the back of the garden-seat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +Piteous was the sight that greeted us. +Aunt Maria was on the seat, in a white evening +frock, looking—for an aunt—really quite nice. +On the lawn stood an incensed curate, grasping +our small brother by a large ear, which—judging +from the row he was making—seemed on +the point of parting company with the head it +completed and adorned. The gruesome noise he +was emitting did not really affect us otherwise +than æsthetically. To one who has tried both, +the wail of genuine physical anguish is easily +distinguishable from the pumped-up <i>ad misericordiam</i> +blubber. Harold's could clearly be +recognised as belonging to the latter class. +'Now you young—' (whelp, <i>I</i> think it was, but +Edward stoutly maintains it was devil), said the +curate sternly; 'tell us what you mean by it!'</p> + +<p>'Well leggo of my ear then!' shrilled Harold, +'and I'll tell you the solemn truth!'</p> + +<p>'Very well,' agreed the curate, releasing him, +'now go ahead, and don't lie more than you can +help.'</p> + +<p>We abode the promised disclosure without +the least misgiving; but even we had hardly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +given Harold due credit for his fertility of +resource and powers of imagination.</p> + +<p>'I had just finished saying my prayers,' began +that young gentleman slowly,' when I happened +to look out of the window, and on the lawn I +saw a sight which froze the marrow in my veins! +A burglar was approaching the house with snake-like +tread! He had a scowl and a dark lantern, +and he was armed to the teeth!'</p> + +<p>We listened with interest. The style, though +unlike Harold's native notes, seemed strangely +familiar.</p> + +<p>'Go on,' said the curate grimly.</p> + +<p>'Pausing in his stealthly career,' continued +Harold, 'he gave a low whistle. Instantly the +signal was responded to, and from the adjacent +shadows two more figures glided forth. The +miscreants were both armed to the teeth.'</p> + +<p>'Excellent,' said the curate; 'proceed.'</p> + +<p>'The robber chief,' pursued Harold, warming +to his work, 'joined his nefarious comrades, and +conversed with them in silent tones. His expression +was truly ferocious, and I ought to +have said that he was armed to the t——'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> + +<p>'There, never mind his teeth,' interrupted the +curate rudely; 'there's too much jaw about +you altogether. Hurry up and have done.'</p> + +<p>'I was in a <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'frighful'">frightful</ins> funk,' continued the +narrator, warily guarding his ear with his hand, +'but just then the drawing-room window opened, +and you and Aunt Maria came out—I mean +emerged. The burglars vanished silently into +the laurels, with horrid implications!'</p> + +<p>The curate looked slightly puzzled. The +tale was well sustained, and certainly circumstantial. +After all, the boy might really have +seen something. How was the poor man to +know—though the chaste and lofty diction +might have supplied a hint—that the whole +yarn was a free adaptation from the last Penny +Dreadful lent us by the knife-and-boot boy?</p> + +<p>'Why did you not alarm the house?' he asked.</p> + +<p>''Cos I was afraid,' said Harold sweetly, +'that p'raps they mightn't believe me!'</p> + +<p>'But how did you get down here, you +naughty little boy?' put in Aunt Maria.</p> + +<p>Harold was hard pressed—by his own flesh +and blood, too!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> + +<p>At that moment Edward touched me on the +shoulder and glided off through the laurels. +When some ten yards away he gave a low +whistle. I replied with another. The effect +was magical. Aunt Maria started up with a +shriek. Harold gave one startled glance around, +and then fled like a hare, made straight for the +back-door, burst in upon the servants at supper, +and buried himself in the broad bosom of the +cook, his special ally. The curate faced the +laurels—hesitatingly. But Aunt Maria flung +herself on him. 'O Mr. Hodgitts!' I heard +her cry, 'you are brave! for my sake do not be +rash!' He was not rash. When I peeped out +a second later, the coast was entirely clear.</p> + +<p>By this time there were sounds of a household +timidly emerging; and Edward remarked +to me that perhaps we had better be off. Retreat +was an easy matter. A stunted laurel +gave a leg-up on to the garden wall, which led +in its turn to the roof of an out-house, up which, +at a dubious angle, we could crawl to the window +of the box-room. This overland route had +been revealed to us one day by the domestic cat,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +when hard pressed in the course of an otter-hunt, +in which the cat—somewhat unwillingly—was +filling the title <i>rôle</i>; and it had proved distinctly +useful on occasions like the present. We were +snug in bed—minus some cuticle from knees +and elbows—and Harold, sleepily chewing +something sticky, had been carried up in the +arms of the friendly cook, ere the clamour of +the burglar-hunters had died away.</p> + +<p>The curate's undaunted demeanour, as reported +by Aunt Maria, was generally supposed +to have terrified the burglars into flight, and +much kudos accrued to him thereby. Some +days later, however, when he had dropped in to +afternoon tea, and was making a mild curatorial +joke about the moral courage required for taking +the last piece of bread-and-butter, I felt +constrained to remark dreamily, and as it were +to the universe at large: 'Mr. Hodgitts! you +are brave! for my sake, do not be rash!'</p> + +<p>Fortunately for me, the vicar also was a caller +on that day; and it was always a comparatively +easy matter to dodge my long-coated friend in +the open.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> +<h2>A HARVESTING</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE year was in its yellowing time, and the +face of Nature a study in old gold. 'A +field <i>or, semée</i> with garbs of the same:' it may +be false Heraldry—Nature's generally is—but +it correctly blazons the display that Edward and +I considered from the rickyard gate. Harold +was not on in this scene, being stretched +upon the couch of pain: the special disorder +stomachic, as usual. The evening before, +Edward, in a fit of unwonted amiability, had +deigned to carve me out a turnip lantern, an +art-and-craft he was peculiarly deft in; and +Harold, as the interior of the turnip flew out in +scented fragments under the hollowing knife, +had eaten largely thereof: regarding all such +jetsam as his special perquisite. Now he was +dreeing his weird, with such assistance as the +chemist could afford. But Edward and I, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>knowing that this particular field was to be +carried to-day, were revelling in the privilege +of riding in the empty waggons from the rickyard +back to the sheaves, whence we returned +toilfully on foot, to career it again over the +billowy acres in these great galleys of a stubble +sea. It was the nearest approach to sailing +that we inland urchins might compass: and +hence it ensued, that such stirring scenes as +Sir Richard Grenville on the <i>Revenge</i>, the +smoke-wreathed Battle of the Nile, and the +Death of Nelson, had all been enacted in turn +on these dusty quarter-decks, as they swayed +and bumped afield.</div> + +<p>Another waggon had shot its load, and was +jolting out through the rickyard gate, as we +swung ourselves in, shouting, over its tail +Edward was the first up, and, as I gained +my feet, he clutched me in a death-grapple. +I was a privateersman, he proclaimed, and he +the captain of the British frigate <i>Terpsichore</i>, +of—I forget the precise number of guns. +Edward always collared the best parts to himself; +but I was holding my own gallantly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +when I suddenly discovered that the floor +we battled on was swarming with earwigs. +Shrieking, I hurled free of him, and rolled +over the tail-board on to the stubble. Edward +executed a war-dance of triumph on the deck +of the retreating galleon; but I cared little +for that. I knew <i>he</i> knew that I wasn't afraid +of him, but that I was—and terribly—of earwigs: +'those mortal bugs o' the field.' So I +let him disappear, shouting lustily for all hands +to repel boarders, while I strolled inland, down +the village.</p> + +<p>There was a touch of adventure in the expedition. +This was not our own village, but a +foreign one, distant at least a mile. One felt +that sense of mingled distinction and insecurity +which is familiar to the traveller: distinction, +in that folk turned the head to note you +curiously; insecurity, by reason of the everpresent +possibility of missiles on the part +of the younger inhabitants, a class eternally +Conservative. Elated with isolation, I went +even more nose-in-air than usual: and 'even +so,' I mused, 'might Mungo Park have threaded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +the trackless African forest and. . . .' Here +I plumped against a soft, but resisting body.</p> + +<p>Recalled to my senses by the shock, I fell +back in the attitude every boy under these +circumstances instinctively adopts—both elbows +well up over your ears. I found myself facing +a tall elderly man, clean-shaven, clad in well-worn +black—a clergyman evidently; and I +noted at once a far-away look in his eyes, as +if they were used to another plane of vision, +and could not instantly focus things terrestrial, +being suddenly recalled thereto. His figure was +bent in apologetic protest. 'I ask a thousand +pardons, sir,' he said; 'I am really so very +absent-minded. I trust you will forgive me.'</p> + +<p>Now most boys would have suspected chaff +under this courtly style of address. I take +infinite credit to myself for recognising at once +the natural attitude of a man to whom his +fellows were gentlemen all, neither Jew nor +Gentile, clean nor unclean. Of course, I took +the blame on myself; adding, that I was very +absent-minded too. Which was indeed the +case.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I perceive,' he said pleasantly, 'that we have +something in common. I, an old man, dream +dreams; you, a young one, see visions. Your +lot is the happier. And now—' his hand had +been resting all this time on a wicket-gate—'you +are hot, it is easily seen;—the day is +advanced, <i>Virgo</i> is the Zodiacal sign. Perhaps +I may offer you some poor refreshment, if your +engagements will permit?'</p> + +<p>My only engagement that afternoon was an +arithmetic lesson, and I had not intended to +keep it in any case; so I passed in, while he +held the gate open politely, murmuring, '<i>Venit +Hesperus, ite capellæ</i>: come, little kid!' and +then apologising abjectly for a familiarity which +(he said) was less his than the Roman poet's. +A straight flagged walk led up to the cool-looking +old house, and my host, lingering in +his progress at this rose-tree and that, forgot +all about me at least twice, waking up and +apologising humbly after each lapse. During +these intervals I put two and two together, +and identified him as the Rector: a bachelor, +eccentric, learned exceedingly, round whom the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +crust of legend was already beginning to form; +to myself an object of special awe, in that +he was alleged to have written a real book. +'Heaps o' books,' Martha, my informant, said; +but I knew the exact rate of discount applicable +to Martha's statements.</p> + +<p>We passed eventually through a dark hall +into a room which struck me at once as the +ideal I had dreamed but failed to find. None +of your feminine fripperies here! None of +your chair-backs and tidies! This man, it was +seen, groaned under no aunts. Stout volumes +in calf and vellum lined three sides; books +sprawled or hunched themselves on chairs and +tables; books diffused the pleasant odour of +printers' ink and bindings; topping all, a faint +aroma of tobacco cheered and heartened exceedingly, +as under foreign skies the flap and +rustle over the wayfarer's head of the Union +Jack—the old flag of emancipation! And in +one corner, book-piled like the rest of the furniture, +stood a piano.</p> + +<p>This I hailed with a squeal of delight. +'Want to strum?' inquired my friend, as if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +it was the most natural wish in the world—his +eyes were already straying towards another +corner, where bits of writing-table peeped out +from under a sort of Alpine system of book and +foolscap.</p> + +<p>'O but may I?' I asked in doubt. 'At +home I'm not allowed to—only beastly exercises!'</p> + + +<p>'Well, you can strum here, at all events,' +he replied; and murmuring absently, '<i>Age, dic +Latinum, barbite, carmen</i>,' he made his way, +mechanically guided as it seemed, to the irresistible +writing-table. In ten seconds he was +out of sight and call. A great book open on +his knee, another propped up in front, a score +or so disposed within easy reach, he read and +jotted with an absorption almost passionate. I +might have been in Bœotia, for any consciousness +he had of me. So with a light heart I +turned to and strummed.</p> + +<p>Those who painfully and with bleeding feet +have scaled the crags of mastery over musical +instruments have yet their loss in this: that +the wild joy of strumming has become a vanished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +sense. Their happiness comes from the +concord and the relative value of the notes +they handle: the pure, absolute quality and +nature of each note in itself are only appreciated +by the strummer. For some notes have +all the sea in them, and some cathedral bells; +others a woodland joyance and a smell of +greenery; in some fauns dance to the merry +reed, and even the grave centaurs peep out +from their caves. Some bring moonlight, and +some the deep crimson of a rose's heart; some +are blue, some red, while others will tell of an +army with silken standards and march-music. +And throughout all the sequence of suggestion, +up above the little white men leap and peep, +and strive against the imprisoning wires; and +all the big rosewood box hums as it were full +of hiving bees.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 312px;"> +<img src="images/ill09.jpg" width="312" height="500" alt="'A great book open on his knee . . . a score or so disposed within easy reach'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'A great book open on his knee . . . a score or so disposed within easy reach'</span> +</div> + +<p>Spent with the rapture, I paused a moment +and caught my friend's eye over the edge of +a folio. 'But as for these Germans,' he began +abruptly, as if we had been in the middle of a +discussion, 'the scholarship is there, I grant +you; but the spark, the fine perception, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +happy intuition, where is it? They get it all +from us!'</p> + +<p>'They get nothing whatever from <i>us</i>,' I said +decidedly: the word German only suggesting +Bands, to which Aunt Eliza was bitterly hostile.</p> + +<p>'You think not?' he rejoined doubtfully, getting +up and walking about the room. 'Well, +I applaud such fairness and temperance in so +young a critic. They are qualities—in youth—as +rare as they are pleasing. But just look +at Schrumpffius, for instance—how he struggles +and wrestles with a simple <ins title="Transliteration: gar">γαρ</ins> in this very +passage here!'</p> + +<p>I peeped fearfully through the open door, +half dreading to see some sinuous and snark-like +conflict in progress on the mat; but all +was still. I saw no trouble at all in the passage, +and I said so.</p> + +<p>'Precisely,' he cried, delighted. 'To you, +who possess the natural scholar's faculty in so +happy a degree, there is no difficulty at all. +But to this Schrumpffius——' But here, luckily +for me, in came the housekeeper, a clean-looking +woman of staid aspect.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Your tea is in the garden,' she said severely, +as if she were correcting a faulty emendation. +'I've put some cakes and things for the little +gentleman; and you'd better drink it before it +gets cold.'</p> + +<p>He waved her off and continued his stride, +brandishing an aorist over my devoted head. +The housekeeper waited unmoved till there +fell a moment's break in his descant; and +then, 'You'd better drink it before it gets +cold,' she observed again, impassively. The +wretched man cast a deprecating look at me. +'Perhaps a little tea would be rather nice,' he +observed feebly; and to my great relief he led +the way into the garden. I looked about for the +little gentleman, but, failing to discover him, I +concluded he was absent-minded too, and +attacked the 'cakes and things' with no +misgivings.</p> + +<p>After a most successful and most learned +tea a something happened which, small as I +was, never quite shook itself out of my memory. +To us at parley in an arbour over the high +road, there entered, slouching into view, a dingy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +tramp, satellited by a frowsy woman and a +pariah dog; and, catching sight of us, he set +up his professional whine; and I looked at +my friend with the heartiest compassion, for +I knew well from Martha—it was common talk—that +at this time of day he was certainly and +surely penniless. Morn by morn he started +forth with pockets lined; and each returning +evening found him with never a sou. All this +he proceeded to explain at length to the tramp, +courteously and even shamefacedly, as one who +was in the wrong; and at last the gentleman +of the road, realising the hopelessness of his +case, set to and cursed him with gusto, vocabulary, +and abandonment. He reviled his eyes, +his features, his limbs, his profession, his relatives +and surroundings; and then slouched off, +still oozing malice and filth. We watched the +party to a turn in the road, where the woman, +plainly weary, came to a stop. Her lord, after +some conventional expletives demanded of him +by his position, relieved her of her bundle, and +caused her to hang on his arm with a certain +rough kindness of tone, and in action even a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +dim approach to tenderness; and the dingy +dog crept up for one lick at her hand.</p> + +<p>'See,' said my friend, bearing somewhat on +my shoulder, 'how this strange thing, this love +of ours, lives and shines out in the unlikeliest +of places! You have been in the fields in early +morning? Barren acres, all! But only stoop—catch +the light thwartwise—and all is a silver +network of gossamer! So the fairy filaments of +this strange thing underrun and link together +the whole world. Yet it is not the old imperious +god of the fatal bow—<ins title="Transliteration: erôs anikate machan">ερως ανἱκατε μἁχαν</ins>—not +that—nor even the placid respectable <ins title="Transliteration: storgê">στοργἡ</ins>—but +something still unnamed, perhaps more +mysterious, more divine! Only one must stoop +to see it, old fellow, one must stoop!'</p> + +<p>The dew was falling, the dusk closing, as I +trotted briskly homewards down the road. +Lonely spaces everywhere, above and around. +Only Hesperus hung in the sky, solitary, pure, +ineffably far-drawn and remote; yet infinitely +heartening, somehow, in his valorous isolation.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> +<h2>SNOWBOUND</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>TWELFTH-NIGHT had come and gone, +and life next morning seemed a trifle flat +and purposeless. But yester-eve, and the mummers +were here! They had come striding into +the old kitchen, powdering the red brick floor +with snow from their barbaric bedizenments; and +stamping, and crossing, and declaiming, till all +was whirl and riot and shout. Harold was +frankly afraid: unabashed, he buried himself +in the cook's ample bosom. Edward feigned a +manly superiority to illusion, and greeted these +awful apparitions familiarly, as Dick and Harry +and Joe. As for me, I was too big to run, too +rapt to resist the magic and surprise. Whence +came these outlanders, breaking in on us with +song and ordered masque and a terrible clashing +of wooden swords? And after these, what strange +visitants might we not look for any quiet +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>night, when the chestnuts popped in the ashes, +and the old ghost stories drew the awe-stricken +circle close? Old Merlin, perhaps, 'all furred +in black sheep-skins, and a russet gown, with +a bow and arrows, and bearing wild geese in +his hand!' Or stately Ogier the Dane, recalled +from Faëry, asking his way to the land that +once had need of him! Or even, on some +white night, the Snow-Queen herself, with a +chime of sleigh-bells and the patter of reindeer's +feet, halting of a sudden at the door flung +wide, while aloft the Northern Lights went +shaking attendant spears among the quiet +stars!</div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 335px;"> +<img src="images/ill10.jpg" width="335" height="500" alt="'But yester-eve and the mummers were here!'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'But yester-eve and the mummers were here!'</span> +</div> + +<p>This morning, house-bound by the relentless +indefatigable snow, I was feeling the reaction. +Edward, on the contrary, being violently stage-struck +on this his first introduction to the real +Drama, was striding up and down the floor, +proclaiming 'Here be I, King Gearge the +Third,' in a strong Berkshire accent. Harold, +accustomed, as the youngest, to lonely antics +and to sports that asked no sympathy, was +absorbed in 'clubmen': a performance consisting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +in a measured progress round the room arm-in-arm +with an imaginary companion of reverend +years, with occasional halts at imaginary clubs, +where—imaginary steps being leisurely ascended—imaginary +papers were glanced at, +imaginary scandal was discussed with elderly +shakings of the head, and—regrettable to say—imaginary +glasses were lifted lipwards. Heaven +only knows how the germ of this dreary pastime +first found way into his small-boyish being. It +was his own invention, and he was proportionately +proud of it. Meanwhile Charlotte and I, +crouched in the window-seat, watched, spell-stricken, +the whirl and eddy and drive of the +innumerable snow-flakes, wrapping our cheery +little world in an uncanny uniform, ghastly in +line and hue.</p> + +<p>Charlotte was sadly out of spirits. Having +'countered' Miss Smedley at breakfast, during +some argument or other, by an apt quotation +from her favourite classic (the <i>Fairy Book</i>), she +had been gently but firmly informed that no +such things as fairies ever really existed. 'Do +you mean to say it's all lies?' asked Charlotte<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +bluntly. Miss Smedley deprecated the use of +any such unladylike words in any connexion +at all. 'These stories had their origin, my +dear,' she explained, 'in a mistaken anthropomorphism +in the interpretation of nature. But +though we are now too well informed to fall +into similar errors, there are still many beautiful +lessons to be learned from these myths——'</p> + +<p>'But how can you learn anything,' persisted +Charlotte, 'from what doesn't exist?' And she +left the table defiant, howbeit depressed.</p> + +<p>'Don't you mind <i>her</i>,' I said consolingly; +'how can she know anything about it? Why, +she can't even throw a stone properly!'</p> + +<p>'Edward says they're all rot, too,' replied +Charlotte doubtfully.</p> + +<p>'Edward says everything's rot,' I explained, +'now he thinks he's going into the Army. If +a thing's in a book it <i>must</i> be true, so that +settles it!'</p> + +<p>Charlotte looked almost reassured. The room +was quieter now, for Edward had got the dragon +down and was boring holes in him with a purring +sound; Harold was ascending the steps of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +Athenæum with a jaunty air—suggestive rather +of the Junior Carlton. Outside, the tall elm-tops +were hardly to be seen through the feathery +storm. 'The sky's a-falling,' quoted Charlotte +softly; 'I must go and tell the king.' The quotation +suggested a fairy story, and I offered to +read to her, reaching out for the book. But the +Wee Folk were under a cloud; sceptical hints +had embittered the chalice. So I was fain to +fetch <i>Arthur</i>—second favourite with Charlotte +for his dames riding errant, and an easy first +with us boys for his spear-splintering crash of +tourney and hurtle against hopeless odds. Here +again, however, I proved unfortunate; what ill-luck +made the book open at the sorrowful history +of Balin and Balan? 'And he vanished anon,' +I read: 'and so he heard an horne blow, as it +had been the death of a beast. "That blast," +said Balin, "is blowen for me, for I am the +prize, and yet am I not dead."' Charlotte +began to cry: she knew the rest too well. I +shut the book in despair. Harold emerged from +behind the arm-chair. He was sucking his +thumb (a thing which members of the Reform<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +are seldom seen to do), and he stared wide-eyed +at his tear-stained sister. Edward put off his +histrionics, and rushed up to her as the consoler—a +new part for him.</p> + +<p>'I know a jolly story,' he began. 'Aunt +Eliza told it me. It was when she was somewhere +over in that beastly abroad'—(he had +once spent a black month of misery at Dinan)—'and +there was a fellow there who had got +two storks. And one stork died—it was the +she-stork.'—('What did it die of?' put in +Harold.)—'And the other stork was quite +sorry, and moped, and went on, and got very +miserable. So they looked about and found a +duck, and introduced it to the stork. The +duck was a drake, but the stork didn't mind, +and they loved each other and were as jolly as +could be. By and by another duck came along—a +real she-duck this time—and when the +drake saw her he fell in love, and left the stork, +and went and proposed to the duck: for she +was very beautiful. But the poor stork who +was left, he said nothing at all to anybody, but +just pined and pined and pined away, till one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +morning he was found quite dead! But the +ducks lived happily ever afterwards!'</p> + +<p>This was Edward's idea of a jolly story! +Down again went the corners of poor Charlotte's +mouth. Really Edward's stupid inability to +see the real point in anything was <i>too</i> annoying! +It was always so. Years before, it being +necessary to prepare his youthful mind for a +domestic event that might lead to awkward +questionings at a time when there was little +leisure to invent appropriate answers, it was +delicately inquired of him whether he would +like to have a little brother, or perhaps a little +sister? He considered the matter carefully in +all its bearings, and finally declared for a Newfoundland +pup. Any boy more 'gleg at the +uptak' would have met his parents half-way, +and eased their burden. As it was, the matter +had to be approached all over again from a +fresh standpoint. And now, while Charlotte +turned away sniffingly, with a hiccup that told +of an overwrought soul, Edward, unconscious +(like Sir Isaac's Diamond) of the mischief he had +done, wheeled round on Harold with a shout.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I want a live dragon,' he announced: 'You've +got to be my dragon!'</p> + +<p>'Leave me go, will you?' squealed Harold, +struggling stoutly. 'I'm playin' at something +else. How can I be a dragon and belong to all +the clubs?'</p> + +<p>'But wouldn't you like to be a nice scaly +dragon, all green,' said Edward, trying persuasion, +'with a curly tail and red eyes, and +breathing real smoke and fire?'</p> + +<p>Harold wavered an instant: Pall-Mall was +still strong in him. The next he was grovelling +on the floor. No saurian ever swung a tail so +scaly and so curly as his. Clubland was a +thousand years away. With horrific pants he +emitted smokiest smoke and fiercest fire.</p> + +<p>'Now I want a Princess,' cried Edward, +clutching Charlotte ecstatically; 'and <i>you</i> can +be the Doctor, and heal me from the dragon's +deadly wound.'</p> + +<p>Of all professions I held the sacred art of +healing in worst horror and contempt. Cataclysmal +memories of purge and draught crowded +thick on me, and with Charlotte—who courted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +no barren honours—I made a break for the +door. Edward did likewise, and the hostile +forces clashed together on the mat, and for a +brief space things were mixed and chaotic and +Arthurian. The silvery sound of the luncheon-bell +restored an instant peace, even in the teeth +of clenched antagonisms like ours. The Holy +Grail itself, 'sliding athwart a sunbeam,' never +so effectually stilled a riot of warring passions +into sweet and quiet accord.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec005.png" width="400" height="144" alt="Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> +<h2>WHAT THEY TALKED ABOUT</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>EDWARD was standing ginger-beer like a +gentleman, happening, as the one that had +last passed under the dentist's hands, to be the +capitalist of the flying hour. As in all well-regulated +families, the usual tariff obtained in +ours: half-a-crown a tooth; one shilling only +if the molar were a loose one. This one, +unfortunately—in spite of Edward's interested +affectation of agony—had been shakiness undisguised; +but the event was good enough to run +to ginger-beer. As financier, however, Edward +had claimed exemption from any servile duties +of procurement, and had swaggered about the +garden while I fetched from the village post-office, +and Harold stole a tumbler from the +pantry. Our preparations complete, we were +sprawling on the lawn; the staidest and most +self-respecting of the rabbits had been let loose +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>to grace the feast, and was lopping demurely +about the grass, selecting the juiciest plantains; +while Selina, as the eldest lady present, was +toying, in her affected feminine way, with the +first full tumbler, daintily fishing for bits of +broken cork.</div> + +<p>'Hurry up, can't you?' growled our host; +'what are you girls always so beastly particular +for?'</p> + +<p>'Martha says,' explained Harold (thirsty too, +but still just), 'that if you swallow a bit of cork, +it swells, and it swells, and it swells inside you, +till you——'</p> + +<p>'O bosh!' said Edward, draining the glass +with a fine pretence of indifference to consequences, +but all the same (as I noticed) dodging +the floating cork-fragments with skill and +judgment.</p> + +<p>'O, it's all very well to say bosh,' replied +Harold nettled: 'but every one knows it's true +but you. Why, when Uncle Thomas was here +last, and they got up a bottle of wine for him, +he took just one tiny sip out of his glass, and +then he said, "Poo, my goodness, that's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +corked!" And he wouldn't touch it. And +they had to get a fresh bottle up. The funny +part was, though, I looked in his glass afterwards, +when it was brought out into the passage, +and there wasn't any cork in it at all! So I +drank it all off, and it was very good!'</p> + +<p>'You'd better be careful, young man!' said +his elder brother, regarding him severely: +'D'you remember that night when the Mummers +were here, and they had mulled port, and +you went round and emptied all the glasses after +they had gone away?'</p> + +<p>'Ow! I did feel funny that night,' chuckled +Harold. 'Thought the house was comin' down, +it jumped about so: and Martha had to carry +me up to bed, 'cos the stairs was goin' all +waggity!'</p> + +<p>We gazed searchingly at our graceless junior; +but it was clear that he viewed the matter in +the light of a phenomenon rather than of a +delinquency.</p> + +<p>A third bottle was by this time circling; and +Selina, who had evidently waited for it to reach +her, took a most unfairly long pull, and then,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +jumping up and shaking out her frock, announced +that she was going for a walk. Then she fled +like a hare; for it was the custom of our Family +to meet with physical coercion any independence +of action in individuals.</p> + +<p>'She's off with those Vicarage girls again,' +said Edward, regarding Selina's long black legs +twinkling down the path. 'She goes out with +them every day now; and as soon as ever they +start, all their heads go together and they +chatter, chatter, chatter the whole blessèd time! +I can't make out what they find to talk about. +They never stop; it's gabble, gabble, gabble +right along, like a nest of young rooks!'</p> + +<p>'P'raps they talk about birds'-eggs,' I suggested +sleepily (the sun was hot, the turf soft, +the ginger-beer potent); 'and about ships, and +buffaloes, and desert islands; and why rabbits +have white tails; and whether they'd sooner +have a schooner or a cutter; and what they'll +be when they're men—at least, I mean there's +lots of things to talk about, if you want to +talk.'</p> + +<p>'Yes; but they don't talk about those sort<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +of things at all,' persisted Edward. 'How can +they? They don't <i>know</i> anything; they can't +<i>do</i> anything—except play the piano, and nobody +would want to talk about <i>that</i>; and they don't +care about anything—anything sensible, I mean. +So what <i>do</i> they talk about?'</p> + +<p>'I asked Martha once,' put in Harold; 'and +she said, "Never <i>you</i> mind; young ladies has +lots of things to talk about that young gentlemen +can't understand."'</p> + +<p>'I don't believe it,' Edward growled.</p> + +<p>'Well, that's what she <i>said</i>, anyway,' rejoined +Harold indifferently. The subject did not seem +to him of first-class importance, and it was +hindering the circulation of the ginger-beer.</p> + +<p>We heard the click of the front-gate. Through +a gap in the hedge we could see the party setting +off down the road. Selina was in the middle; a +Vicarage girl had her by either arm; their heads +were together, as Edward had described; and +the clack of their tongues came down the breeze +like the busy pipe of starlings on a bright March +morning.</p> + +<p>'What <i>do</i> they talk about, Charlotte?' I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +inquired, wishing to pacify Edward. 'You go +out with them sometimes.'</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 336px;"> +<img src="images/ill11.jpg" width="336" height="500" alt="'"They make me walk behind, 'cos they say I'm too little, and mustn't hear"'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"They make me walk behind, 'cos they say I'm too little, and mustn't hear"'</span> +</div> + +<p>'I don't know,' said poor Charlotte dolefully. +'They make me walk behind, 'cos they say I'm +too little, and mustn't hear. And I <i>do</i> want to +so,' she added.</p> + +<p>'When any lady comes to see Aunt Eliza,' +said Harold, 'they both talk at once all the +time. And yet each of 'em seems to hear what +the other one's saying. I can't make out how +they do it. Grown-up people are so clever!'</p> + +<p>'The Curate's the funniest man,' I remarked. +'He's always saying things that have no sense +in them at all, and then laughing at them as if +they were jokes. Yesterday, when they asked +him if he'd have some more tea, he said, "Once +more unto the breach, dear friends, once more," +and then sniggered all over. I didn't see anything +funny in that. And then somebody asked +him about his button-hole, and he said, "'Tis +but a little faded flower," and exploded again. +I thought it very stupid.'</p> + +<p>'O <i>him</i>,' said Edward contemptuously: 'he +can't help it, you know; it's a sort of way he's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +got. But it's these girls I can't make out. If +they've anything really sensible to talk about, +how is it nobody knows what it is? And if +they haven't—and we know they <i>can't</i> have, +naturally—why don't they shut up their jaw? +This old rabbit here—<i>he</i> doesn't want to talk. +He's got something better to do.' And Edward +aimed a ginger-beer cork at the unruffled beast, +who never budged.</p> + +<p>'O but rabbits <i>do</i> talk,' interposed Harold. +'I've watched them often in their hutch. They +put their heads together and their noses go up +and down, just like Selina's and the Vicarage +girls'. Only of course I can't hear what they're +saying.'</p> + +<p>'Well, if they do,' said Edward unwillingly, +'I'll bet they don't talk such rot as those girls +do!' Which was ungenerous, as well as unfair; +for it had not yet transpired—nor has it +to this day—<i>what</i> Selina and her friends talked +about.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec006.png" width="400" height="138" alt="Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE ARGONAUTS</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE advent of strangers, of whatever sort, +into our circle had always been a matter +of grave dubiety and suspicion. Indeed, it was +generally a signal for retreat into caves and +fastnesses of the earth, into unthreaded copses +or remote outlying cowsheds, whence we were +only to be extricated by wily nursemaids, rendered +familiar by experience with our secret runs +and refuges. It was not surprising, therefore, +that the heroes of classic legend, when first we +made their acquaintance, failed to win our entire +sympathy at once. 'Confidence,' says somebody, +'is a plant of slow growth'; and these +stately dark-haired demi-gods, with names hard +to master and strange accoutrements, had to +win a citadel already strongly garrisoned with +a more familiar soldiery. Their chill foreign +goddesses had no such direct appeal for us as +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>the mocking malicious fairies and witches of +the North. We missed the pleasant alliance +of the animal—the fox who spread the bushiest +of tails to convey us to the enchanted castle, the +frog in the well, the raven who croaked advice +from the tree; and—to Harold especially—it +seemed entirely wrong that the hero should ever +be other than the youngest brother of three. +This belief, indeed, in the special fortune that +ever awaited the youngest brother, as such,—the +'Borough-English' of <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Faery'">Faëry</ins>,—had been +of baleful effect on Harold, producing a certain +self-conceit and perkiness that called for physical +correction. But even in our admonishment we +were on his side; and as we distrustfully eyed +these new arrivals, old Saturn himself seemed +something of a <i>parvenu</i>.</div> + +<p>Even strangers, however, if they be good fellows +at heart, may develop into sworn comrades; +and these gay swordsmen, after all, were of the +right stuff. Perseus, with his cap of darkness +and his wonderful sandals, was not long in +winging his way to our hearts. Apollo knocked +at Admetus' gate in something of the right fairy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +fashion. Psyche brought with her an orthodox +palace of magic, as well as helpful birds and +friendly ants. Ulysses, with his captivating +shifts and strategies, broke down the final +barrier, and henceforth the band was adopted +and admitted into our freemasonry.</p> + +<p>I had been engaged in chasing Farmer Larkin's +calves—his special pride—round the field, +just to show the man we hadn't forgotten him, +and was returning through the kitchen-garden +with a conscience at peace with all men, when I +happened upon Edward, grubbing for worms in +the dung-heap. Edward put his worms into his +hat, and we strolled along together, discussing +high matters of state. As we reached the tool-shed, +strange noises arrested our steps; looking +in, we perceived Harold, alone, rapt, absorbed, +immersed in the special game of the moment. +He was squatting in an old pig-trough that had +been brought in to be tinkered; and as he rhapsodised, +anon he waved a shovel over his head, +anon dug it into the ground with the action +of those who would urge Canadian canoes. +Edward strode in upon him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 333px;"> +<img src="images/ill12.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="'"I'm Jason . . . and this is the Argo . . . and we're just going through the Hellespont"'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"I'm Jason . . . and this is the Argo . . . and we're just going through the Hellespont"'</span> +</div> + +<p>'What rot are you playing at now?' he +demanded sternly.</p> + +<p>Harold flushed up, but stuck to his pig-trough +like a man. 'I'm Jason,' he replied defiantly; +'and this is the Argo. The other fellows are +here too, only you can't see them; and we're +just going through the Hellespont, so don't you +come bothering.' And once more he plied the +wine-dark sea.</p> + +<p>Edward kicked the pig-trough contemptuously. +'Pretty sort of Argo you've got!' said he.</p> + +<p>Harold began to get annoyed. 'I can't help +it,' he retorted. 'It's the best sort of Argo I +can manage, and it's all right if you only pretend +enough. But <i>you</i> never could pretend one +bit.'</p> + +<p>Edward reflected. 'Look here,' he said +presently. 'Why shouldn't we get hold of +Farmer Larkin's boat, and go right away up +the river in a real Argo, and look for Medea, +and the Golden Fleece, and everything? And +I'll tell you what, I don't mind your being +Jason, as you thought of it first.'</p> + +<p>Harold tumbled out of the trough in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +excess of his emotion. 'But we aren't allowed +to go on the water by ourselves,' he cried.</p> + +<p>'No,' said Edward, with fine scorn: 'we +aren't allowed; and Jason wasn't allowed +either, I daresay. But he <i>went</i>!'</p> + +<p>Harold's protest had been merely conventional: +he only wanted to be convinced by +sound argument. The next question was, How +about the girls? Selina was distinctly handy +in a boat: the difficulty about her was, that +if she disapproved of the expedition—and, +morally considered, it was not exactly a Pilgrim's +Progress—she might go and tell; she +having just reached that disagreeable age when +one begins to develop a conscience. Charlotte, +for her part, had a habit of day-dreams, and was +as likely as not to fall overboard in one of her +rapt musings. To be sure, she would dissolve +in tears when she found herself left out; but +even that was better than a watery tomb. In +fine, the public voice—and rightly, perhaps—was +against the admission of the skirted animal: +despite the precedent of Atalanta, who was one +of the original crew.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> + +<p>'And now,' said Edward, 'who's to ask +Farmer Larkin? <i>I</i> can't; last time I saw him +he said when he caught me again he'd smack +my head. <i>You'll</i> have to.'</p> + +<p>I hesitated, for good reasons. 'You know +those precious calves of his?' I began.</p> + +<p>Edward understood at once. 'All right,' he +said; 'then we won't ask him at all. It doesn't +much matter. He'd only be annoyed, and that +would be a pity. Now let's set off.'</p> + +<p>We made our way down to the stream, and +captured the farmer's boat without let or hindrance, +the enemy being engaged in the hay-fields. +This 'river,' so called, could never be +discovered by us in any atlas; indeed our +Argo could hardly turn in it without risk of +shipwreck. But to us 'twas Orinoco, and the +cities of the world dotted its shores. We put +the Argo's head upstream, since that led away +from the Larkin province; Harold was faithfully +permitted to be Jason, and we shared the +rest of the heroes among us. Then, quitting +Thessaly, we threaded the Hellespont with +shouts, breathlessly dodged the Clashing Rocks,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +and coasted under the lee of the Siren-haunted +isles. Lemnos was fringed with meadow-sweet, +dog-roses dotted the Mysian shore, and the +cheery call of the haymaking folk sounded +along the coast of Thrace.</p> + +<p>After some hour or two's seafaring, the prow +of the Argo embedded itself in the mud of a +landing-place, plashy with the tread of cows +and giving on to a lane that led towards the +smoke of human habitations. Edward jumped +ashore, alert for exploration, and strode off +without waiting to see if we followed; but I +lingered behind, having caught sight of a moss-grown +water-gate hard by, leading into a garden +that, from the brooding quiet lapping it round, +appeared to portend magical possibilities.</p> + +<p>Indeed the very air within seemed stiller, as +we circumspectly passed through the gate; and +Harold hung back shamefaced, as if we were +crossing the threshold of some private chamber, +and ghosts of old days were hustling past us. +Flowers there were, everywhere; but they +drooped and sprawled in an overgrowth hinting +at indifference; the scent of heliotrope<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +possessed the place as if actually hung in solid +festoons from tall untrimmed hedge to hedge. +No basket-chairs, shawls, or novels dotted the +lawn with colour, and on the garden-front of +the house behind, the blinds were mostly drawn. +A grey old sun-dial dominated the central +sward, and we moved towards it instinctively, +as the most human thing in sight. An antick +motto ran round it, and with eyes and fingers +we struggled at the decipherment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">time</span>: <span class="smcap">tryeth</span>: <span class="smcap">trothe</span>: spelt out Harold +at last. 'I wonder what that means?'</p> + +<p>I could not enlighten him, nor meet his further +questions as to the inner mechanism of the thing, +and where you wound it up. I had seen these +instruments before, of course; but had never +fully understood their manner of working.</p> + +<p>We were still puzzling our heads over the +contrivance, when I became aware that Medea +herself was moving down the path from the +house. Dark-haired, supple, of a figure lightly +poised and swayed, but pale and listless—I +knew her at once, and having come out to +find her, naturally felt no surprise at all. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +Harold, who was trying to climb on to the top +of the sun-dial, having a cat-like fondness for +the summit of things, started and fell prone, +barking his chin and filling the pleasance with +lamentation.</p> + +<p>Medea skimmed the ground swallow-like, and +in a moment was on her knees comforting him, +wiping the dirt out of his chin with her own +dainty handkerchief, and vocal with soft murmur +of consolation.</p> + +<p>'You needn't take on so about him,' I +observed politely. 'He'll cry for just one +minute, and then he'll be all right.'</p> + +<p>My estimate was justified. At the end of his +regulation time Harold stopped crying suddenly, +like a clock that had struck its hour; and with +a serene and cheerful countenance wriggled out +of Medea's embrace, and ran for a stone to +throw at an intrusive blackbird.</p> + +<p>'O you boys!' cried Medea, throwing wide +her arms with abandonment. 'Where have +you dropped from? How dirty you are! I've +been shut up here for a thousand years, and all +that time I've never seen any one under a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +hundred and fifty! Let's play at something, at +once!'</p> + +<p>'Rounders is a good game,' I suggested. +'Girls can play at rounders. And we could +serve up to the sun-dial here. But you want a +bat and a ball, and some more people.'</p> + +<p>She struck her hands together tragically. +'I haven't a bat,' she cried, 'or a ball, or +more people, or anything sensible whatever. +Never mind; let's play at hide-and-seek in +the kitchen-garden. And we'll race there, +up to that walnut-tree; I haven't run for a +century!'</p> + +<p>She was so easy a victor, nevertheless, that I +began to doubt, as I panted behind, whether +she had not exaggerated her age by a year or +two. She flung herself into hide-and-seek with +all the gusto and abandonment of the true +artist; and as she flitted away and reappeared, +flushed and laughing divinely, the pale witch-maiden +seemed to fall away from her, and she +moved rather as that other girl I had read about, +snatched from fields of daffodil to reign in +shadow below, yet permitted now and again<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +to revisit earth and light and the frank, caressing +air.</p> + +<p>Tired at last, we strolled back to the old +sun-dial, and Harold, who never relinquished +a problem unsolved, began afresh, rubbing his +finger along the faint incisions. '<i>Time tryeth +trothe</i>. Please, I want to know what that +means?'</p> + +<p>Medea's face drooped low over the sun-dial, +till it was almost hidden in her fingers. 'That's +what I'm here for,' she said presently in quite a +changed, low voice. 'They shut me up here—they +think I'll forget—but I never will—never, +never! And he, too—but I don't know—it is +so long—I don't know!'</p> + +<p>Her face was quite hidden now. There was +silence again in the old garden. I felt clumsily +helpless and awkward. Beyond a vague idea +of kicking Harold, nothing remedial seemed to +suggest itself.</p> + +<p>None of us had noticed the approach of +another she-creature—one of the angular and +rigid class—how different from our dear comrade! +The years Medea had claimed might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +well have belonged to her; she wore mittens, +too—a trick I detested in woman. 'Lucy!' +she said sharply, in a tone with <i>aunt</i> writ large +over it; and Medea started up guiltily.</p> + +<p>'You've been crying,' said the newcomer, +grimly regarding her through spectacles. 'And +pray who are these exceedingly dirty little +boys?'</p> + +<p>'Friends of mine, aunt,' said Medea promptly, +with forced cheerfulness. I—I've known them +a long time. I asked them to come.'</p> + +<p>The aunt sniffed suspiciously. 'You must +come indoors, dear,' she said, 'and lie down. +The sun will give you a headache. And you +little boys had better run away home to your +tea. Remember, you should not come to pay +visits without your nursemaid.'</p> + +<p>Harold had been tugging nervously at my +jacket for some time, and I only waited till +Medea turned and kissed a white hand to us +as she was led away. Then I ran. We gained +the boat in safety; and 'What an old dragon!' +said Harold.</p> + +<p>'Wasn't she a beast!' I replied. 'Fancy the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +sun giving any one a headache! But Medea +was a real brick. Couldn't we carry her off?'</p> + +<p>'We could if Edward was here,' said Harold +confidently.</p> + +<p>The question was, What had become of that +defaulting hero? We were not left long in +doubt. First, there came down the lane the +shrill and wrathful clamour of a female tongue; +then Edward, running his best; and then an +excited woman hard on his heel. Edward +tumbled into the bottom of the boat, gasping +'Shove her off!' And shove her off we did, +mightily, while the dame abused us from the +bank in the self-same accents in which Alfred +hurled defiance at the marauding Dane.</p> + +<p>'That was just like a bit out of <i>Westward +Ho</i>!' I remarked approvingly, as we sculled +down the stream. 'But what had you been +doing to her?'</p> + +<p>'Hadn't been doing anything,' panted Edward, +still breathless. 'I went up into the village and +explored, and it was a very nice one, and the +people were very polite. And there was a +blacksmith's forge there, and they were shoeing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +horses, and the hoofs fizzled and smoked, and +smelt so jolly! I stayed there quite a long time. +Then I got thirsty, so I asked that old woman +for some water, and while she was getting it her +cat came out of the cottage, and looked at me +in a nasty sort of way, and said something I +didn't like. So I went up to it just to—to +teach it manners, and somehow or other, next +minute it was up an apple-tree, spitting, and I +was running down the lane with that old thing +after me.'</p> + +<p>Edward was so full of his personal injuries +that there was no interesting him in Medea at +all. Moreover, the evening was closing in, and +it was evident that this cutting-out expedition +must be kept for another day. As we neared +home, it gradually occurred to us that perhaps +the greatest danger was yet to come, for the +farmer must have missed his boat ere now, and +would probably be lying in wait for us near the +landing-place. There was no other spot admitting +of debarcation on the home side; if we got +out on the other, and made for the bridge, we +should certainly be seen and cut off. Then it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +was that I blessed my stars that our elder +brother was with us that day. He might be +little good at pretending, but in grappling with +the stern facts of life he had no equal. Enjoining +silence, he waited till we were but a little +way from the fated landing-place, and then +brought us in to the opposite bank. We +scrambled out noiselessly and—the gathering +darkness favouring us—crouched behind a willow, +while Edward pushed off the empty boat +with his foot. The old Argo, borne down by the +gentle current, slid and grazed along the rushy +bank; and when she came opposite the suspected +ambush, a stream of imprecation told +us that our precaution had not been wasted. +We wondered, as we listened, where Farmer +Larkin, who was bucolically bred and reared, +had acquired such range and wealth of vocabulary. +Fully realising at last that his boat was +derelict, abandoned, at the mercy of wind and +wave—as well as out of his reach—he strode +away to the bridge, about a quarter of a mile +further down; and as soon as we heard his +boots clumping on the planks we nipped out,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +recovered the craft, pulled across, and made +the faithful vessel fast to her proper moorings. +Edward was anxious to wait and exchange +courtesies and compliments with the disappointed +farmer, when he should confront us +on the opposite bank; but wiser counsels +prevailed. It was possible that the piracy was +not yet laid at our particular door: Ulysses, +I reminded him, had reason to regret a similar +act of bravado, and—were he here—would +certainly advise a timely retreat. Edward held +but a low opinion of me as a counsellor; but he +had a very solid respect for Ulysses.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec007.png" width="400" height="136" alt="Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE ROMAN ROAD</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>ALL the roads of our neighbourhood were +cheerful and friendly, having each of +them pleasant qualities of their own; but this +one seemed different from the others in its masterful +suggestion of a serious purpose, speeding +you along with a strange uplifting of the heart. +The others tempted chiefly with their treasures +of hedge and ditch; the rapt surprise of the +first lords-and-ladies, the rustle of a field-mouse, +the splash of a frog; while cool noses of brother-beasts +were pushed at you through gate or gap. +A loiterer you had need to be, did you choose +one of them; so many were the tiny hands +thrust out to detain you, from this side and +that. But this one was of a sterner sort, and +even in its shedding off of bank and hedgerow +as it marched straight and full for the open +downs, it seemed to declare its contempt for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>adventitious trappings to catch the shallow-pated. +When the sense of injustice or disappointment +was heavy on me, and things were +very black within, as on this particular day, the +road of character was my choice for that solitary +ramble when I turned my back for an afternoon +on a world that had unaccountably declared +itself against me.</div> + +<p>'The Knights' Road' we children had named +it, from a sort of feeling that, if from any quarter +at all, it would be down this track we might some +day see Lancelot and his peers come pacing on +their great war-horses; supposing that any of +the stout band still survived, in nooks and unexplored +places. Grown-up people sometimes +spoke of it as the 'Pilgrims' Way'; but I +didn't know much about pilgrims—except +Walter in the Horselberg story. Him I sometimes +saw, breaking with haggard eyes out of +yonder copse, and calling to the pilgrims as they +hurried along on their desperate march to the +Holy City, where peace and pardon were +awaiting them. 'All roads lead to Rome,' I +had once heard somebody say; and I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +taken the remark very seriously, of course, and +puzzled over it many days. There must have +been some mistake, I concluded at last; but of +one road at least I intuitively felt it to be true. +And my belief was clinched by something that +fell from Miss Smedley during a history-lesson, +about a strange road that ran right down the +middle of England till it reached the coast, and +then began again in France, just opposite, and +so on undeviating, through city and vineyard, +right from the misty Highlands to the Eternal +City. Uncorroborated, any statement of Miss +Smedley's usually fell on incredulous ears; but +here, with the road itself in evidence, she seemed, +once in a way, to have strayed into truth.</p> + +<p>Rome! It was fascinating to think that it +lay at the other end of this white ribbon that +rolled itself off from my feet over the distant +downs. I was not quite so uninstructed as to +imagine I could reach it that afternoon; but +some day, I thought, if things went on being as +unpleasant as they were now—some day, when +Aunt Eliza had gone on a visit,—some day, +we would see.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>I tried to imagine what it would be like when +I got there. The Coliseum I knew, of course, +from a woodcut in the history-book: so to +begin with I plumped that down in the middle. +The rest had to be patched up from the little +grey market-town where twice a year we went +to have our hair cut; hence, in the result, +Vespasian's amphitheatre was approached by +muddy little streets, wherein the Red Lion and +the Blue Boar, with Somebody's Entire along +their front, and 'Commercial Room' on their +windows; the doctor's house, of substantial +red-brick; and the façade of the New Wesleyan +chapel, which we thought very fine, were the +chief architectural ornaments: while the Roman +populace pottered about in smocks and corduroys, +twisting the tails of Roman calves and +inviting each other to beer in musical Wessex. +From Rome I drifted on to other cities, faintly +heard of—Damascus, Brighton (Aunt Eliza's +ideal), Athens, and Glasgow, whose glories the +gardener sang; but there was a certain sameness +in my conception of all of them: that +Wesleyan chapel would keep cropping up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +everywhere. It was easier to go a-building +among those dream-cities where no limitations +were imposed, and one was sole architect, with +a free hand. Down a delectable street of cloud-built +palaces I was mentally pacing, when I +happened upon the Artist.</p> + +<p>He was seated at work by the roadside, at a +point whence the cool large spaces of the downs, +juniper-studded, swept grandly westwards. His +attributes proclaimed him of the artist tribe: +besides, he wore knickerbockers like myself,—a +garb confined, I was aware, to boys and artists. +I knew I was not to bother him with questions, +nor look over his shoulder and breathe in his +ear—they didn't like it, this <i>genus irritabile</i>. +But there was nothing about staring in my +code of instructions, the point having somehow +been overlooked: so, squatting down on the +grass, I devoted myself to the passionate absorbing +of every detail. At the end of five +minutes there was not a button on him that I +could not have passed an examination in; and +the wearer himself of that homespun suit was +probably less familiar with its pattern and texture<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +than I was. Once he looked up, nodded, +half held out his tobacco pouch, mechanically as +it were, then, returning it to his pocket, resumed +his work, and I my mental photography.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 320px;"> +<img src="images/ill13.jpg" width="320" height="500" alt="'"You haven't been to Rome, have you?"'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"You haven't been to Rome, have you?"'</span> +</div> + +<p>After another five minutes or so had passed, +he remarked, without looking my way: 'Fine +afternoon we're having: going far to-day?'</p> + +<p>'No, I'm not going any farther than this,' +I replied; 'I <i>was</i> thinking of going on to Rome: +but I've put it off.'</p> + +<p>'Pleasant place, Rome,' he murmured: 'you'll +like it.' It was some minutes later that he +added: 'But I wouldn't go just now, if I were +you: too jolly hot.'</p> + +<p>'<i>You</i> haven't been to Rome, have you?' I +inquired.</p> + +<p>'Rather,' he replied briefly: 'I live there.'</p> + +<p>This was too much, and my jaw dropped as +I struggled to grasp the fact that I was sitting +there talking to a fellow who lived in Rome. +Speech was out of the question: besides I had +other things to do. Ten solid minutes had I +already spent in an examination of him as a +mere stranger and artist; and now the whole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +thing had to be done over again, from the +changed point of view. So I began afresh, at +the crown of his soft hat, and worked down +to his solid British shoes, this time investing +everything with the new Roman halo; and at +last I managed to get out: 'But you don't +really live there, do you?' never doubting the +fact, but wanting to hear it repeated.</p> + +<p>'Well,' he said, good-naturedly overlooking +the slight rudeness of my query, 'I live there +as much as I live anywhere. About half the +year sometimes. I've got a sort of a shanty +there. You must come and see it some day.'</p> + +<p>'But do you live anywhere else as well?' I +went on, feeling the forbidden tide of questions +surging up within me.</p> + +<p>'O yes, all over the place,' was his vague +reply. 'And I've got a diggings somewhere +off Piccadilly.'</p> + +<p>'Where's that?' I inquired.</p> + +<p>'Where's what?' said he. 'O, Piccadilly! +It's in London.'</p> + +<p>'Have you a large garden?' I asked; 'and +how many pigs have you got?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I've no garden at all,' he replied sadly, and +they don't allow me to keep pigs, though I'd +like to, awfully. It's very hard.'</p> + +<p>'But what do you do all day, then,' I cried, +'and where do you go and play, without any +garden, or pigs, or things?'</p> + +<p>'When I want to play,' he said gravely, 'I +have to go and play in the street; but it's poor +fun, I grant you. There's a goat, though, not +far off, and sometimes I talk to him when I'm +feeling lonely; but he's very proud.'</p> + +<p>'Goats <i>are</i> proud,' I admitted. 'There's one +lives near here, and if you say anything to him +at all, he hits you in the wind with his head. +You know what it feels like when a fellow hits +you in the wind?'</p> + +<p>'I do, well,' he replied, in a tone of proper +melancholy, and painted on.</p> + +<p>'And have you been to any other places,' +I began again presently, 'besides Rome and +Piccy-what's-his-name?'</p> + +<p>'Heaps,' he said. 'I'm a sort of Ulysses—seen +men and cities, you know. In fact, about the +only place I never got to was the Fortunate Island.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> + +<p>I began to like this man. He answered your +questions briefly and to the point, and never +tried to be funny. I felt I could be confidential +with him.</p> + +<p>'Wouldn't you like,' I inquired, 'to find a +city without any people in it at all?'</p> + +<p>He looked puzzled. 'I'm afraid I don't +quite understand,' said he.</p> + +<p>'I mean,' I went on eagerly, 'a city where +you walk in at the gates, and the shops are all +full of beautiful things, and the houses furnished +as grand as can be, and there isn't anybody +there whatever! And you go into the shops, +and take anything you want—chocolates and +magic-lanterns and injirubber balls—and there's +nothing to pay; and you choose your own house +and live there and do just as you like, and never +go to bed unless you want to!'</p> + +<p>The artist laid down his brush. 'That <i>would</i> +be a nice city,' he said. 'Better than Rome. +You can't do that sort of thing in Rome—or in +Piccadilly either. But I fear it's one of the +places I've never been to.'</p> + +<p>'And you'd ask your friends,' I went on,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +warming to my subject; 'only those you really +like, of course; and they'd each have a house +to themselves—there'd be lots of houses,—and +there wouldn't be any relations at all, unless +they promised they'd be pleasant; and if they +weren't they'd have to go.'</p> + +<p>'So you wouldn't have any relations?' said +the artist. 'Well, perhaps you're right. We +have tastes in common, I see.'</p> + +<p>'I'd have Harold,' I said reflectively, 'and +Charlotte. They'd like it awfully. The others +are getting too old. O, and Martha—I'd have +Martha to cook and wash up and do things. +You'd like Martha. She's ever so much nicer +than Aunt Eliza. She's my idea of a real +lady.'</p> + +<p>'Then I'm sure I should like her,' he replied +heartily, 'and when I come to—what do you +call this city of yours? Nephelo—something, +did you say?'</p> + +<p>'I—I don't know, 'I replied timidly. 'I'm +afraid it hasn't got a name—yet.'</p> + +<p>The artist gazed out over the downs. '"The +poet says, dear city of Cecrops,"' he said softly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +to himself, '"and wilt not thou say, dear city +of Zeus?" That's from Marcus Aurelius,' he +went on, turning again to his work. 'You don't +know him, I suppose; you will some day.'</p> + +<p>'Who's he?' I inquired.</p> + +<p>'O, just another fellow who lived in Rome,' +he replied, dabbing away.</p> + +<p>'O dear!' I cried disconsolately. 'What a +lot of people seem to live at Rome, and I've +never even been there! But I think I'd like +<i>my</i> city best.'</p> + +<p>'And so would I,' he replied with unction. +'But Marcus Aurelius wouldn't, you know.'</p> + +<p>'Then we won't invite him,' I said; 'will +we?'</p> + +<p>'<i>I</i> won't if you won't,' said he. And that +point being settled, we were silent for a while.</p> + +<p>'Do you know,' he said presently, 'I've met +one or two fellows from time to time, who have +been to a city like yours—perhaps it was the +same one. They won't talk much about it—only +broken hints, now and then; but they've +been there sure enough. They don't seem to +care about anything in particular—and everything's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +the same to them, rough or smooth; +and sooner or later they slip off and disappear; +and you never see them again. Gone back, I +suppose.'</p> + +<p>'Of course,' said I. 'Don't see what they +ever came away for; <i>I</i> wouldn't. To be told +you've broken things when you haven't, and +stopped having tea with the servants in the +kitchen, and not allowed to have a dog to sleep +with you. But <i>I've</i> known people, too, who've +gone there.'</p> + +<p>The artist stared, but without incivility.</p> + +<p>'Well, there's Lancelot,' I went on. 'The +book says he died, but it never seemed to read +right, somehow. He just went away, like +Arthur. And Crusoe, when he got tired of +wearing clothes and being respectable. And +all the nice men in the stories who don't marry +the Princess, 'cos only one man ever gets married +in a book, you know. They'll be there!'</p> + +<p>'And the men who never come off,' he said, +'who try like the rest, but get knocked out, or +somehow miss—or break down or get bowled +over in the mêlée—and get no Princess, nor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +even a second-class kingdom—some of them'll +be there, I hope?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, if you like,' I replied, not quite understanding +him; 'if they're friends of yours, we'll +ask 'em, of course.'</p> + +<p>'What a time we shall have!' said the artist +reflectively; 'and how shocked old Marcus +Aurelius will be!'</p> + +<p>The shadows had lengthened uncannily, a +tide of golden haze was flooding the grey-green +surface of the downs, and the artist began to put +his traps together, preparatory to a move. I felt +very low: we would have to part, it seemed, +just as we were getting on so well together. +Then he stood up, and he was very straight and +tall, and the sunset was in his hair and beard +as he stood there, high over me. He took my +hand like an equal. 'I've enjoyed our conversation +very much,' he said. 'That was an +interesting subject you started, and we haven't +half exhausted it. We shall meet again, I +hope?'</p> + +<p>'Of course we shall,' I replied, surprised that +there should be any doubt about it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> + +<p>'In Rome perhaps?' said he.</p> + +<p>'Yes, in Rome,' I answered; 'or Piccy-the-other-place, +or somewhere.'</p> + +<p>'Or else,' said he, 'in that other city—when +we've found the way there. And I'll look out +for you, and you'll sing out as soon as you see +me. And we'll go down the street arm-in-arm, +and into all the shops, and then I'll choose my +house, and you'll choose your house, and we'll +live there like princes and good fellows.'</p> + +<p>'O, but you'll stay in my house, won't +you?' I cried; 'I wouldn't ask everybody; +but I'll ask <i>you</i>.'</p> + +<p>He affected to consider a moment; then +'Right!' he said: 'I believe you mean it, and +I <i>will</i> come and stay with you. I won't go to +anybody else, if they ask me ever so much. +And I'll stay quite a long time, too, and I +won't be any trouble.'</p> + +<p>Upon this compact we parted, and I went +down-heartedly from the man who understood +me, back to the house where I never could do +anything right. How was it that everything +seemed natural and sensible to him, which these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +uncles, vicars, and other grown-up men took +for the merest tomfoolery? Well, he would +explain this, and many another thing, when +we met again. The Knights' Road! How it +always brought consolation! Was he possibly +one of those vanished knights I had been looking +for so long? Perhaps he would be in +armour next time—why not? He would look +well in armour, I thought. And I would take +care to get there first, and see the sunlight flash +and play on his helmet and shield, as he rode up +the High Street of the Golden City.</p> + +<p>Meantime, there only remained the finding it. +An easy matter.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec008.png" width="400" height="135" alt="Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SECRET DRAWER</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IT must surely have served as a boudoir for +the ladies of old time, this little used, rarely +entered chamber where the neglected old bureau +stood. There was something very feminine in +the faint hues of its faded brocades, in the rose +and blue of such bits of china as yet remained, +and in the delicate old-world fragrance of pot-pourri +from the great bowl,—blue and white, +with funny holes in its cover,—that stood on +the bureau's flat top. Modern aunts disdained +this out-of-the-way, backwater, upstairs room, +preferring to do their accounts and grapple +with their correspondence in some central position +more in the whirl of things, whence one +eye could be kept on the carriage-drive, while +the other was alert for malingering servants and +marauding children. Those aunts of a former +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>generation—I sometimes felt—would have +suited our habits better. But even by us +children, to whom few places were private or +reserved, the room was visited but rarely. To +be sure, there was nothing particular in it that +we coveted or required. Only a few spindle-legged, +gilt-backed chairs,—an old harp on +which, so the legend ran, Aunt Eliza herself +used once to play, in years remote, unchronicled; +a corner-cupboard with a few pieces of china; +and the old bureau. But one other thing the +room possessed, peculiar to itself; a certain +sense of privacy—a power of making the +intruder feel that he <i>was</i> intruding—perhaps +even a faculty of hinting that some one might +have been sitting on those chairs, writing at the +bureau, or fingering the china, just a second +before one entered. No such violent word as +'haunted' could possibly apply to this pleasant +old-fashioned chamber, which indeed we all +rather liked; but there was no doubt it was reserved +and stand-offish, keeping itself to itself.</div> + +<p>Uncle Thomas was the first to draw my +attention to the possibilities of the old bureau.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +He was pottering about the house one afternoon, +having ordered me to keep at his heels for +company—he was a man who hated to be left +one minute alone,—when his eye fell on it. +'H'm! Sheraton!' he remarked. (He had a +smattering of most things, this uncle, especially +the vocabularies.) Then he let down the flap, +and examined the empty pigeon-holes and +dusty panelling. 'Fine bit of inlay,' he went +on: 'good work, all of it. I know the sort. +There's a secret drawer in there somewhere.' +Then as I breathlessly drew near, he suddenly +exclaimed: 'By Jove, I do want to smoke!' +And, wheeling round, he abruptly fled for the +garden, leaving me with the cup dashed from my +lips. What a strange thing, I mused, was this +smoking, that takes a man suddenly, be he in +the court, the camp, or the grove, grips him like +an Afreet, and whirls him off to do its imperious +behests! Would it be even so with myself, I +wondered, in those unknown grown-up years +to come?</p> + +<p>But I had no time to waste in vain speculations. +My whole being was still vibrating to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +those magic syllables 'secret drawer'; and that +particular chord had been touched that never +fails to thrill responsive to such words as <i>cave</i>, +<i>trap-door</i>, <i>sliding-panel</i>, <i>bullion</i>, <i>ingots</i>, or +<i>Spanish dollars</i>. For, besides its own special +bliss, who ever heard of a secret drawer with +nothing in it? And O I did want money so +badly! I mentally ran over the list of demands +which were pressing me the most imperiously.</p> + +<p>First, there was the pipe I wanted to give +George Jannaway. George, who was Martha's +young man, was a shepherd, and a great ally of +mine; and the last fair he was at, when he +bought his sweetheart fairings, as a right-minded +shepherd should, he had purchased a lovely +snake expressly for me; one of the wooden +sort, with joints, waggling deliciously in the +hand; with yellow spots on a green ground, +sticky and strong-smelling, as a fresh-painted +snake ought to be; and with a red-flannel +tongue pasted cunningly into its jaws. I loved +it much, and took it to bed with me every night, +till what time its spinal cord was loosed and it +fell apart, and went the way of all mortal joys.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +<i>I</i> thought it very nice of George to think of me +at the fair, and that's why I wanted to give him +a pipe. When the young year was chill and +lambing-time was on, George inhabited a little +wooden house on wheels, far out on the wintry +downs, and saw no faces but such as were +sheepish and woolly and mute; and when he +and Martha were married, she was going to +carry his dinner out to him every day, two +miles; and after it, perhaps he would smoke my +pipe. It seemed an idyllic sort of existence, for +both the parties concerned; but a pipe of quality, +a pipe fitted to be part of a life such as this, +could not be procured (so Martha informed me) +for a smaller sum than eighteenpence. And +meantime——!</p> + +<p>Then there was the fourpence I owed Edward; +not that he was bothering me for it, but +I knew he was in need of it himself, to pay back +Selina, who wanted it to make up a sum of two +shillings, to buy Harold an ironclad for his +approaching birthday,—H.M.S. <i>Majestic</i>, now +lying uselessly careened in the toyshop window, +just when her country had such sore need of her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +And then there was that boy in the village +who had caught a young squirrel, and I had +never yet possessed one, and he wanted a shilling +for it, but I knew that for ninepence in cash—but +what was the good of these sorry threadbare +reflections? I had wants enough to exhaust +any possible find of bullion, even if it amounted +to half a sovereign. My only hope now lay in +the magic drawer, and here I was, standing and +letting the precious minutes slip by! Whether +'findings' of this sort could, morally speaking, +be considered 'keepings,' was a point that did +not occur to me.</p> + +<p>The room was very still as I approached the +bureau; possessed, it seemed to be, by a sort +of hush of expectation. The faint odour of +orris-root that floated forth as I let down the +flap, seemed to identify itself with the yellows +and browns of the old wood, till hue and scent +were of one quality and interchangeable. Even +so, ere this, the pot-pourri had mixed itself with +the tints of the old brocade, and brocade and +pot-pourri had long been one. With expectant +fingers I explored the empty pigeon-holes and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +sounded the depths of the softly-sliding drawers. +No books that I knew of gave any general recipe +for a quest like this; but the glory, should I +succeed unaided, would be all the greater.</p> + +<p>To him who is destined to arrive, the fates +never fail to afford, on the way, their small +encouragements. In less than two minutes, I +had come across a rusty button-hook. This was +truly magnificent. In the nursery there existed, +indeed, a general button-hook, common to either +sex; but none of us possessed a private and +special button-hook, to lend or to refuse as +suited the high humour of the moment. I +pocketed the treasure carefully, and proceeded. +At the back of another drawer, three old foreign +stamps told me I was surely on the highroad to +fortune.</p> + +<p>Following on these bracing incentives, came +a dull blank period of unrewarded search. In +vain I removed all the drawers and felt over +every inch of the smooth surfaces, from front +to back. Never a knob, spring or projection +met the thrilling finger-tips; unyielding the old +bureau stood, stoutly guarding its secret, if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +secret it really had. I began to grow weary +and disheartened. This was not the first time +that Uncle Thomas had proved shallow, uninformed, +a guide into blind alleys where the +echoes mocked you. Was it any good persisting +longer? Was anything any good whatever? +In my mind I began to review past disappointments, +and life seemed one long record of +failure and of non-arrival. Disillusioned and +depressed, I left my work and went to the +window. The light was ebbing from the room, +and seemed outside to be collecting itself on +the horizon for its concentrated effort of sunset. +Far down the garden, Uncle Thomas was holding +Edward in the air reversed, and smacking +him. Edward, gurgling hysterically, was striking +blind fists in the direction where he judged +his uncle's stomach should rightly be; the contents +of his pockets—a motley show—were +strewing the lawn. Somehow, though I had +been put through a similar performance myself +an hour or two ago, it all seemed very far away +and cut off from me.</p> + +<p>Westwards the clouds were massing themselves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +in a low violet bank; below them, to +north and south, as far round as eye could +reach, a narrow streak of gold ran out and +stretched away, straight along the horizon. +Somewhere very far off, a horn was blowing, +clear and thin; it sounded like the golden streak +grown audible, while the gold seemed the visible +sound. It pricked my ebbing courage, this +blended strain of music and colour. I turned +for a last effort; and Fortune thereupon, as if +half-ashamed of the unworthy game she had been +playing with me, relented, opening her clenched +fist. Hardly had I put my hand once more to +the obdurate wood, when with a sort of small +sigh, almost a sob—as it were—of relief, the +secret drawer sprang open.</p> + +<p>I drew it out and carried it to the window, +to examine it in the failing light. Too hopeless +had I gradually grown, in my dispiriting search, +to expect very much; and yet at a glance I saw +that my basket of glass lay in shivers at my +feet. No ingots nor dollars were here, to crown +me the little Monte Cristo of a week. Outside, +the distant horn had ceased its gnat-song, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +gold was paling to primrose, and everything +was lonely and still. Within, my confident +little castles were tumbling down like so many +card-houses, leaving me stripped of estate, +both real and personal, and dominated by the +depressing reaction.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 326px;"> +<img src="images/ill14.jpg" width="326" height="500" alt="'I drew it out and carried it to the window, to examine it in the failing light'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'I drew it out and carried it to the window, to examine it in the failing light'</span> +</div> + +<p>And yet,—as I looked again at the small +collection that lay within that drawer of disillusions, +some warmth crept back to my heart +as I recognised that a kindred spirit to my own +had been at the making of it. Two tarnished +gilt buttons—naval, apparently—a portrait of a +monarch unknown to me, cut from some antique +print and deftly coloured by hand in just my +own bold style of brush-work—some foreign +copper coins, thicker and clumsier of make than +those I hoarded myself—and a list of birds'-eggs, +with names of the places where they had +been found. Also, a ferret's muzzle, and a +twist of tarry string, still faintly aromatic! It +was a real boy's hoard, then, that I had +happened upon. He too had found out the +secret drawer, this happy-starred young person; +and here he had stowed away his treasures, one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +by one, and had cherished them secretly awhile, +and then—what? Well, one would never know +now the reason why these priceless possessions +still lay here unreclaimed; but across the void +stretch of years I seemed to touch hands a +moment with my little comrade of seasons—how +many seasons?—long since dead.</p> + +<p>I restored the drawer, with its contents, to +the trusty bureau, and heard the spring click +with a certain satisfaction. Some other boy, +perhaps, would some day release that spring +again. I trusted he would be equally appreciative. +As I opened the door to go, I could +hear, from the nursery at the end of the passage, +shouts and yells, telling that the hunt was up. +Bears, apparently, or bandits, were on the +evening bill of fare, judging by the character of +the noises. In another minute I would be in +the thick of it, in all the warmth and light and +laughter. And yet—what a long way off it all +seemed, both in space and time, to me yet +lingering on the threshold of that old-world +chamber!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> +<h2>'EXIT TYRANNUS'</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE eventful day had arrived at last, the +day which, when first named, had seemed—like +all golden dates that promise anything +definite—so immeasurably remote. When it +was first announced, a fortnight before, that +Miss Smedley was really going, the resultant +ecstasies had occupied a full week, during which +we blindly revelled in the contemplation and +discussion of her past tyrannies, crimes, malignities; +in recalling to each other this or that +insult, dishonour, or physical assault, sullenly +endured at a time when deliverance was not even +a small star on the horizon: and in mapping out +the shining days to come, with special new +troubles of their own, no doubt—since this is +but a work-a-day world!—but at least free from +one familiar scourge. The time that remained +had been taken up by the planning of practical +expressions of the popular sentiment. Under +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>Edward's masterly direction, arrangements had +been made for a flag to be run up over the hen-house +at the very moment when the fly, with +Miss Smedley's boxes on top and the grim +oppressor herself inside, began to move off +down the drive. Three brass cannons, set on +the brow of the sunk-fence, were to proclaim +our deathless sentiments in the ears of the +retreating foe; the dogs were to wear ribbons; +and later—but this depended on our powers of +evasiveness and dissimulation—there might be +a small bonfire, with a cracker or two if the +public funds could bear the unwonted strain.</div> + +<p>I was awakened by Harold digging me in +the ribs, and 'She's going to-day!' was the +morning hymn that scattered the clouds of +sleep. Strange to say, it was with no corresponding +jubilation of spirits that I slowly +realised the momentous fact. Indeed, as I +dressed, a dull disagreeable feeling that I could +not define grew up in me—something like a +physical bruise. Harold was evidently feeling +it too, for after repeating 'She's going to-day!' +in a tone more befitting the Litany, he looked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +hard in my face for direction as to how the +situation was to be taken. But I crossly bade +him look sharp and say his prayers and not +bother me. What could this gloom portend, +that on a day of days like the present seemed +to hang my heavens with black?</p> + +<p>Down at last and out in the sun, we found +Edward before us, swinging on a gate and +chanting a farm-yard ditty in which all the +beasts appear in due order, jargoning in their +several tongues, and every verse begins with +the couplet:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +'Now, my lads, come with me,<br /> +Out in the morning early!'<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>The fateful exodus of the day had evidently +slipped his memory entirely. I touched him +on the shoulder. 'She's going to-day!' I said. +Edward's carol subsided like a water-tap turned +off. 'So she is!' he replied, and got down +at once off the gate. And we returned to the +house without another word.</div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 331px;"> +<img src="images/ill15.jpg" width="331" height="500" alt="'At breakfast Miss Smedley behaved in a most mean and uncalled-for manner'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'At breakfast Miss Smedley behaved in a most mean and uncalled-for manner'</span> +</div> + +<p>At breakfast Miss Smedley behaved in a +most mean and uncalled-for manner. The +right divine of governesses to govern wrong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +includes no right to cry. In thus usurping +the prerogative of their victims they ignore +the rules of the ring, and hit below the belt. +Charlotte was crying, of course; but that +counted for nothing. Charlotte even cried +when the pigs' noses were ringed in due season; +thereby evoking the cheery contempt of the +operators, who asserted they liked it, and doubtless +knew. But when the cloud-compeller, her +bolts laid aside, resorted to tears, mutinous +humanity had a right to feel aggrieved, and +think itself placed in a false and difficult +position. What would the Romans have done, +supposing Hannibal had cried? History has +not even considered the possibility. Rules and +precedents should be strictly observed on both +sides. When they are violated, the other party +is justified in feeling injured.</p> + +<p>There were no lessons that morning, naturally—another +grievance! The fitness of things +required that we should have struggled to the +last in a confused medley of moods and tenses, +and parted for ever, flushed with hatred, over +the dismembered corpse of the multiplication-table.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +But this thing was not to be; and I +was free to stroll by myself through the garden, +and combat, as best I might, this growing +feeling of depression. It was a wrong system +altogether, I thought, this going of people one +had got used to. Things ought always to +continue as they had been. Change there +must be, of course; pigs, for instance, came +and went with disturbing frequency—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +'Fired their ringing shot and passed,<br /> +Hotly charged and sank at last'—<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>but Nature had ordered it so, and in requital +had provided for rapid successors. Did you +come to love a pig, and he was taken from +you, grief was quickly assuaged in the delight +of selection from the new litter. But now, +when it was no question of a peerless pig, but +only of a governess, Nature seemed helpless, and +the future held no litter of oblivion. Things +might be better, or they might be worse, but +they would never be the same; and the innate +conservatism of youth asks neither poverty nor +riches, but only immunity from change.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></div> + +<p>Edward slouched up alongside of me presently, +with a hangdog look on him, as if he +had been caught stealing jam. 'What a lark +it'll be when she's really gone!' he observed, +with a swagger obviously assumed.</p> + +<p>'Grand fun!' I replied dolorously; and conversation +flagged.</p> + +<p>We reached the hen-house, and contemplated +the banner of freedom lying ready to flaunt the +breezes at the supreme moment.</p> + +<p>'Shall you run it up,' I asked, 'when the fly +starts, or—or wait a little till it's out of +sight?'</p> + +<p>Edward gazed round him dubiously. 'We're +going to have some rain, I think,' he said; 'and—and +it's a new flag. It would be a pity to +spoil it. P'raps I won't run it up at all.'</p> + +<p>Harold came round the corner like a bison +pursued by Indians. 'I've polished up the +cannons,' he cried, 'and they look grand! +Mayn't I load 'em now?'</p> + +<p>'You leave 'em alone,' said Edward severely, +'or you'll be blowing yourself up' (consideration +for others was not usually Edward's strong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +point). 'Don't touch the gunpowder till you're +told, or you'll get your head smacked.'</p> + +<p>Harold fell behind, limp, squashed, obedient. +'She wants me to write to her,' he began presently. +'Says she doesn't mind the spelling, if +I'll only write. Fancy her saying that!'</p> + +<p>'O, shut up, will you?' said Edward +savagely; and once more we were silent, with +only our thoughts for sorry company.</p> + +<p>'Let's go off to the copse,' I suggested +timidly, feeling that something had to be done +to relieve the tension, 'and cut more new bows +and arrows.'</p> + +<p>'She gave me a knife my last birthday,' said +Edward moodily, never budging. 'It wasn't +much of a knife—but I wish I hadn't lost it!'</p> + +<p>'When my legs used to ache,' I said, 'she +sat up half the night, rubbing stuff on them. I +forgot all about that till this morning.'</p> + +<p>'There's the fly!' cried Harold suddenly. +'I can hear it scrunching on the gravel.'</p> + +<p>Then for the first time we turned and stared +each other in the face.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The fly and its contents had finally disappeared +through the gate, the rumble of its +wheels had died away. Yet no flag floated +defiantly in the sun, no cannons proclaimed the +passing of a dynasty. From out the frosted +cake of our existence Fate had cut an irreplaceable +segment: turn which way we would, the +void was present. We sneaked off in different +directions, mutually undesirous of company; +and it seemed borne in upon me that I ought +to go and dig my garden right over, from end +to end. It didn't actually want digging; on +the other hand no amount of digging could +affect it, for good or for evil; so I worked +steadily, strenuously, under the hot sun, stifling +thought in action. At the end of an hour or +so, I was joined by Edward.</p> + +<p>'I've been chopping up wood,' he explained, +in a guilty sort of way, though nobody had +called on him to account for his doings.</p> + +<p>'What for?' I inquired stupidly. 'There's +piles and piles of it chopped up already.'</p> + +<p>'I know,' said Edward, 'but there's no harm +in having a bit over. You never can tell what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +may happen. But what have you been doing +all this digging for?'</p> + +<p>'You said it was going to rain,' I explained +hastily. 'So I thought I'd get the digging +done before it came. Good gardeners always +tell you that's the right thing to do.'</p> + +<p>'It did look like rain at one time,' Edward +admitted; 'but it's passed off now. Very queer +weather we're having. I suppose that's why +I've felt so funny all day.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I suppose it's the weather,' I replied. +'<i>I've</i> been feeling funny too.'</p> + +<p>The weather had nothing to do with it, as +we well knew. But we would both have died +rather than admit the real reason.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec009.png" width="400" height="148" alt="Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE BLUE ROOM</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THAT nature has her moments of sympathy +with man has been noted often enough,—and +generally as a new discovery. To us, +who had never known any other condition of +things, it seemed entirely right and fitting that +the wind sang and sobbed in the poplar tops, +and, in the lulls of it, sudden spirts of rain +spattered the already dusty roads, on that blusterous +March day when Edward and I awaited, +on the station platform, the arrival of the new +tutor. Needless to say, this arrangement had +been planned by an aunt, from some fond idea +that our shy, innocent young natures would +unfold themselves during the walk from the +station, and that, on the revelation of each +other's more solid qualities that must inevitably +ensue, an enduring friendship, springing from +mutual respect, might be firmly based. A +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>pretty dream,—nothing more. For Edward, +who foresaw that the brunt of tutorial oppression +would have to be borne by him, was sulky, +monosyllabic, and determined to be as negatively +disagreeable as good manners would permit. It +was therefore evident that I would have to be +spokesman and purveyor of hollow civilities, and +I was none the more amiable on that account; +all courtesies, welcomes, explanations, and other +court-chamberlain kind of business, being my +special aversion. There was much of the tempestuous +March weather in the hearts of both of +us, as we sullenly glowered along the carriage-windows +of the slackening train.</div> + +<p>One is apt, however, to misjudge the special +difficulties of a situation; and the reception +proved, after all, an easy and informal matter. +In a trainful so uniformly bucolic, a tutor was +readily recognisable; and his portmanteau had +been consigned to the luggage-cart, and his +person conveyed into the lane, before I had +discharged one of my carefully considered +sentences. I breathed more easily, and looking +up at our new friend as we stepped out together,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +remembered that we had been counting on +something altogether more arid, scholastic, and +severe. A boyish eager face and a petulant +<i>pince-nez</i>—untidy hair—a head of constant +quick turns like a robin's, and a voice that kept +breaking into alto—these were all very strange +and new, but not in the least terrible.</p> + +<p>He proceeded jerkily through the village, with +glances on this side and that; and 'Charming,' +he broke out presently; 'quite too charming +and delightful!'</p> + +<p>I had not counted on this sort of thing, and +glanced for help to Edward, who, hands in +pockets, looked grimly down his nose. He had +taken his line, and meant to stick to it.</p> + +<p>Meantime our friend had made an imaginary +spy-glass out of his fist, and was squinting +through it at something I could not perceive. +'What an exquisite bit!' he burst out. 'Fifteenth +century—no—yes it is!'</p> + +<p>I began to feel puzzled, not to say alarmed. +It reminded me of the butcher in the <i>Arabian +Nights</i>, whose common joints, displayed on the +shop-front, took to a startled public the appearance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +of dismembered humanity. This man +seemed to see the strangest things in our dull, +familiar surroundings.</p> + +<p>'Ah!' he broke out again, as we jogged on +between hedgerows: 'and that field now—backed +by the downs—with the rain-cloud +brooding over it,—that's all David Cox—every +bit of it!'</p> + +<p>'That field belongs to Farmer Larkin,' I +explained politely; for of course he could not +be expected to know. 'I'll take you over to +Farmer Cox's to-morrow, if he's a friend of +yours; but there's nothing to see there.'</p> + +<p>Edward, who was hanging sullenly behind, +made a face at me, as if to say, 'What sort of +lunatic have we got here?'</p> + +<p>'It has the true pastoral character, this +country of yours,' went on our enthusiast: 'with +just that added touch in cottage and farmstead, +relics of a bygone art, which makes our English +landscape so divine, so unique!'</p> + +<p>Really this grasshopper was becoming a +burden! These familiar fields and farms, of +which we knew every blade and stick, had done<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +nothing that I knew of to be bespattered with +adjectives in this way. I had never thought of +them as divine, unique, or anything else. They +were—well, they were just themselves, and +there was an end of it. Despairingly I jogged +Edward in the ribs, as a sign to start rational +conversation, but he only grinned and continued +obdurate.</p> + +<p>'You can see the house now,' I remarked +presently; 'and that's Selina, chasing the +donkey in the paddock. Or is it the donkey +chasing Selina? I can't quite make out; but +it's <i>them</i>, anyhow.'</p> + +<p>Needless to say, he exploded with a full +charge of adjectives. 'Exquisite!' he rapped +out; 'so mellow and harmonious! and so +entirely in keeping!' (I could see from Edward's +face that he was thinking who ought to +be in keeping.) 'Such possibilities of romance, +now, in those old gables!'</p> + +<p>'If you mean the garrets,' I said, 'there's a +lot of old furniture in them; and one is generally +full of apples; and the bats get in sometimes, +under the eaves, and flop about till we go up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +with hair-brushes and things and drive 'em +out; but there's nothing else in them that I +know of.'</p> + +<p>'O, but there must be more than bats,' he +cried. 'Don't tell me there are no ghosts. I +shall be deeply disappointed if there aren't any +ghosts.'</p> + +<p>I did not think it worth while to reply, feeling +really unequal to this sort of conversation. +Besides, we were nearing the house, when my +task would be ended. Aunt Eliza met us at +the door, and in the cross-fire of adjectives that +ensued—both of them talking at once, as +grown-up folk have a habit of doing—we two +slipped round to the back of the house, and +speedily put several broad acres between us and +civilisation, for fear of being ordered in to tea in +the drawing-room. By the time we returned, +our new importation had gone up to dress for +dinner, so till the morrow at least we were free +of him.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the March wind, after dropping a +while at sundown, had been steadily increasing +in volume; and although I fell asleep at my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +usual hour, about midnight I was wakened by +the stress and the cry of it. In the bright moonlight, +wind-swung branches tossed and swayed +eerily across the blinds; there was rumbling in +chimneys, whistling in keyholes, and everywhere +a clamour and a call. Sleep was out of +the question, and, sitting up in bed, I looked +round. Edward sat up too. 'I was wondering +when you were going to wake,' he said. 'It's +no good trying to sleep through this. <i>I</i> vote +we get up and do something.'</p> + +<p>'I'm game,' I replied. 'Let's play at being +in a ship at sea' (the plaint of the old house +under the buffeting wind suggested this, naturally); +'and we can be wrecked on an island, +or left on a raft, whichever you choose; but I +like an island best myself, because there's more +things on it.'</p> + +<p>Edward on reflection negatived the idea. 'It +would make too much noise,' he pointed out. +'There's no fun playing at ships, unless you +can make a jolly good row.'</p> + +<p>The door creaked, and a small figure in white +slipped cautiously in. 'Thought I heard you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +talking,' said Charlotte. 'We don't like it; +we're afraid—Selina too! She'll be here in a +minute. She's putting on her new dressing-gown +she's so proud of.'</p> + +<p>His arms round his knees, Edward cogitated +deeply until Selina appeared, barefooted, and +looking slim and tall in the new dressing-gown. +Then, 'Look here,' he exclaimed; 'now we're +all together, I vote we go and explore!'</p> + +<p>'You're always wanting to explore,' I said. +'What on earth is there to explore for in this +house?'</p> + +<p>'Biscuits!' said the inspired Edward.</p> + +<p>'Hooray! Come on!' chimed in Harold, +sitting up suddenly. He had been awake all +the time, but had been shamming asleep, lest +he should be fagged to do anything.</p> + +<p>It was indeed a fact, as Edward had remembered, +that our thoughtless elders occasionally +left the biscuits out, a prize for the night-walking +adventurer with nerves of steel.</p> + +<p>Edward tumbled out of bed, and pulled a +baggy old pair of knickerbockers over his bare +shanks. Then he girt himself with a belt, into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +which he thrust, on the one side a large wooden +pistol, on the other an old single-stick; and +finally he donned a big slouch-hat—once an +uncle's—that we used for playing Guy Fawkes +and Charles-the-Second-up-a-tree in. Whatever +the audience, Edward, if possible, always +dressed for his parts with care and conscientiousness; +while Harold and I, true Elizabethans, +cared little about the mounting of the +piece, so long as the real dramatic heart of it +beat sound.</p> + +<p>Our commander now enjoined on us a silence +deep as the grave, reminding us that Aunt Eliza +usually slept with an open door, past which we +had to file.</p> + +<p>'But we'll take the short cut through the +Blue Room,' said the wary Selina.</p> + +<p>'Of course,' said Edward approvingly. 'I forgot +about that. Now then! You lead the way!'</p> + +<p>The Blue Room had in prehistoric times been +added to by taking in a superfluous passage, and +so not only had the advantage of two doors, but +also enabled us to get to the head of the stairs +without passing the chamber wherein our dragon-aunt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +lay couched. It was rarely occupied, +except when a casual uncle came down for the +night. We entered in noiseless file, the room +being plunged in darkness, except for a bright +strip of moonlight on the floor, across which we +must pass for our exit. On this our leading +lady chose to pause, seizing the opportunity +to study the hang of her new dressing-gown. +Greatly satisfied thereat, she proceeded, after +the feminine fashion, to peacock and to pose, +pacing a minuet down the moonlit patch with +an imaginary partner. This was too much for +Edward's histrionic instincts, and after a +moment's pause he drew his single-stick, and, +with flourishes meet for the occasion, strode on +to the stage. A struggle ensued on approved +lines, at the end of which Selina was stabbed +slowly and with unction, and her corpse borne +from the chamber by the ruthless cavalier. +The rest of us rushed after in a clump, with +capers and gesticulations of delight; the special +charm of the performance lying in the necessity +for its being carried out with the dumbest of +dumb shows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> + +<p>Once out on the dark landing, the noise of the +storm without told us that we had exaggerated +the necessity for silence; so, grasping the tails +of each other's nightgowns, even as Alpine +climbers rope themselves together in perilous +places, we fared stoutly down the staircase-moraine, +and across the grim glacier of the +hall, to where a faint glimmer from the half-open +door of the drawing-room beckoned to us +like friendly hostel-lights. Entering, we found +that our thriftless seniors had left the sound red +heart of a fire, easily coaxed into a cheerful +blaze; and biscuits—a plateful—smiled at us +in an encouraging sort of way, together with the +halves of a lemon, already squeezed, but still +suckable. The biscuits were righteously shared, +the lemon segments passed from mouth to +mouth; and as we squatted round the fire, its +genial warmth consoling our unclad limbs, we +realised that so many nocturnal perils had not +been braved in vain.</p> + +<p>'It's a funny thing,' said Edward, as we +chatted, 'how I hate this room in the daytime. +It always means having your face washed, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +your hair brushed, and talking silly company +talk. But to-night it's really quite jolly. +Looks different, somehow.'</p> + +<p>'I never can make out,' I said, 'what people +come here to tea for. They can have their +own tea at home if they like—they're not +poor people—with jam and things, and drink +out of their saucer, and suck their fingers and +enjoy themselves; but they come here from a +long way off, and sit up straight with their feet +off the bars of their chairs, and have one cup, +and talk the same sort of stuff every time.'</p> + +<p>Selina sniffed disdainfully. 'You don't know +anything about it,' she said. 'In society you +have to call on each other. It's the proper +thing to do.'</p> + +<p>'Pooh! <i>you're</i> not in society,' said Edward +politely; 'and, what's more, you never will be.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I shall, some day,' retorted Selina; +'but I shan't ask you to come and see me, so +there!'</p> + +<p>'Wouldn't come if you did,' growled Edward.</p> + +<p>'Well you won't get the chance,' rejoined +our sister, claiming her right of the last word.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +There was no heat about these little amenities, +which made up—as understood by us—the art +of polite conversation.</p> + +<p>'I don't like society people,' put in Harold +from the sofa, where he was sprawling at full +length—a sight the daylight hours would have +blushed to witness. 'There were some of 'em +here this afternoon, when you two had gone off +to the station. O, and I found a dead mouse +on the lawn, and I wanted to skin it, but I +wasn't sure I knew how, by myself; and they +came out into the garden, and patted my head—I +wish people wouldn't do that—and one of +'em asked me to pick her a flower. Don't +know why she couldn't pick it herself; but I +said, "All right, I will if you'll hold my mouse." +But she screamed, and threw it away; and +Augustus (the cat) got it, and ran away with it. +I believe it was really his mouse all the time, +'cos he'd been looking about as if he had lost +something, so I wasn't angry with <i>him</i>. But +what did <i>she</i> want to throw away my mouse +for?'</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 352px;"> +<img src="images/ill16.jpg" width="352" height="500" alt="'The procession passing solemnly across the moon-lit Blue Room'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'The procession passing solemnly across the moon-lit Blue Room'</span> +</div> + +<p>'You have to be careful with mice,' reflected<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +Edward; 'they're such slippery things. Do +you remember we were playing with a dead +mouse once on the piano, and the mouse was +Robinson Crusoe, and the piano was the island, +and somehow Crusoe slipped down inside the +island, into its works, and we couldn't get him +out, though we tried rakes and all sorts of things, +till the tuner came. And that wasn't till a +week after, and then——'</p> + +<p>Here Charlotte, who had been nodding solemnly, +fell over into the fender; and we realised +that the wind had dropped at last, and the house +was lapped in a great stillness. Our vacant +beds seemed to be calling to us imperiously; and +we were all glad when Edward gave the signal +for retreat. At the top of the staircase Harold +unexpectedly turned mutinous, insisting on his +right to slide down the banisters in a free +country. Circumstances did not allow of argument; +I suggested frog's-marching instead, and +accordingly frog's-marched he was, the procession +passing solemnly across the moon-lit Blue +Room, with Harold horizontal and limply submissive. +Snug in bed at last, I was just slipping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +off into slumber when I heard Edward explode, +with chuckle and snort.</p> + +<p>'By Jove!' he said; 'I forgot all about +it. The new tutor's sleeping in the Blue +Room!'</p> + +<p>'Lucky he didn't wake up and catch us,' I +grunted drowsily; and, without another thought +on the matter, we both sank into well-earned +repose.</p> + +<p>Next morning, coming down to breakfast +braced to grapple with fresh adversity, we were +surprised to find our garrulous friend of the +previous day—he was late in making his +appearance—strangely silent and (apparently) +pre-occupied. Having polished off our porridge, +we ran out to feed the rabbits, explaining to +them that a beast of a tutor would prevent +their enjoying so much of our society as +formerly.</p> + +<p>On returning to the house at the fated hour +appointed for study, we were thunderstruck to +see the station-cart disappearing down the drive, +freighted with our new acquaintance. Aunt +Eliza was brutally uncommunicative; but she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +was overheard to remark casually that she +thought the man must be a lunatic. In this +theory we were only too ready to concur, dismissing +thereafter the whole matter from our +minds.</p> + +<p>Some weeks later it happened that Uncle +Thomas, while paying us a flying visit, produced +from his pocket a copy of the latest weekly, +<i>Psyche: a Journal of the Unseen</i>; and proceeded +laboriously to rid himself of much +incomprehensible humour, apparently at our +expense. We bore it patiently, with the forced +grin demanded by convention, anxious to get +at the source of inspiration, which it presently +appeared lay in a paragraph circumstantially +describing our modest and humdrum habitation. +'Case <span class="smcap">iii</span>.,' it began. 'The following particulars +were communicated by a young member of +the Society, of undoubted probity and earnestness, +and are a chronicle of actual and recent +experience.' A fairly accurate description of +the house followed, with details that were unmistakable; +but to this there succeeded a flood +of meaningless drivel about apparitions, nightly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +visitants, and the like, writ in a manner +betokening a disordered mind, coupled with a +feeble imagination. The fellow was not even +original. All the old material was there—the +storm at night, the haunted chamber, the white +lady, the murder re-enacted, and so on—already +worn threadbare in many a Christmas Number. +No one was able to make head or tail of the +stuff, or of its connexion with our quiet mansion; +and yet Edward, who had always suspected the +fellow, persisted in maintaining that our tutor +of a brief span was, somehow or other, at the +bottom of it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec010.png" width="400" height="137" alt="Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> +<h2>A FALLING OUT</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>HAROLD told me the main facts of this +episode some time later,—in bits and +with reluctance. It was not a recollection he +cared to talk about. The crude blank misery +of a moment is apt to leave a dull bruise which +is slow to depart, if it ever do so entirely; and +Harold confesses to a twinge or two, still, at +times, like the veteran who brings home a bullet +inside him from martial plains over sea.</div> + +<p>He knew he was a brute the moment he had +done it. Selina had not meant to worry, only +to comfort and assist. But his soul was one +raw sore within him, when he found himself +shut up in the schoolroom after hours, merely +for insisting that 7 times 7 amounted to 47. +The injustice of it seemed so flagrant. Why +not 47 as much as 49! One number was no +prettier than the other to look at, and it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +evidently only a matter of arbitrary taste and +preference, and, anyhow, it had always been +47 to him, and would be to the end of time. +So when Selina came in out of the sun, leaving +the Trappers of the Far West behind her, and +putting off the glory of being an Apache squaw +in order to hear him his tables and win his +release, Harold turned on her venomously, rejected +her kindly overtures, and even drove his +elbow into her sympathetic ribs, in his determination +to be left alone in the glory of sulks. +The fit passed directly, his eyes were opened, +and his soul sat in the dust as he sorrowfully +began to cast about for some atonement heroic +enough to salve the wrong.</p> + +<p>Of course poor Selina looked for no sacrifice +nor heroics whatever; she didn't even want him +to say he was sorry. If he would only make it +up, she would have done the apologising part +herself. But that was not a boy's way. Something +solid, Harold felt, was due from him; and +until that was achieved, making-up must not +be thought of, in order that the final effect +might not be spoilt. Accordingly, when his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +release came, and Selina hung about trying to +catch his eye, Harold, possessed by the demon +of a distorted motive, avoided her steadily—though +he was bleeding inwardly at every +minute of delay—and came to me instead. +Needless to say, I warmly approved his plan. +It was so much more high-toned than just +going and making-up tamely, which any one +could do; and a girl who had been <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'jobbed'">jabbed</ins> +in the ribs by a hostile elbow could not be +expected for a moment to overlook it, without +the liniment of an offering to soothe her injured +feelings.</p> + +<p>'I know what she wants most,' said Harold. +'She wants that set of tea-things in the toyshop +window, with the red and blue flowers on 'em; +she's wanted it for months, 'cos her dolls are +getting big enough to have real afternoon tea; +and she wants it so badly that she won't walk +that side of the street when we go into the +town. But it costs five shillings!'</p> + +<p>Then we set to work seriously, and devoted +the afternoon to a realisation of assets and the +composition of a Budget that might have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +dated without shame from Whitehall. The +result worked out as follows:—</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Budget"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='center'><i>s.</i></td><td align='center'><i>d.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>By one uncle, unspent through having been lost for nearly a week—turned up at last in the straw of the dog-kennel</div></td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>2</td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>6</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>By advance from me on security of next uncle, and failing that, to be called in at Christmas</div></td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>1</td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>0</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>By shaken out of missionary-box with the help of a knife-blade. (They were our own pennies and a forced levy)</div></td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>0</td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>4</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>By bet due from Edward, for walking across the field where Farmer Larkin's bull was, and Edward bet him twopence he wouldn't—called in with difficulty</div></td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>0</td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>2</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>By advance from Martha, on no security at all, only you mustn't tell your aunt</div></td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>1</td><td align='center' valign='bottom'>0</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right' colspan='2'>——</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'> Total </td><td align='center'>5</td><td align='center'>0</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='unindent'>and at last we breathed again.</div> + +<p>The rest promised to be easy. Selina had a +tea-party at five on the morrow, with the chipped +old wooden tea-things that had served her successive +dolls from babyhood. Harold would +slip off directly after dinner, going alone, so as +not to arouse suspicion, as we were not allowed +to go into the town by ourselves. It was nearly +two miles to our small metropolis, but there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +would be plenty of time for him to go and +return, even laden with the olive-branch neatly +packed in shavings. Besides, he might meet the +butcher, who was his friend and would give him +a lift. Then, finally, at five, the rapture of the +new tea-service, descended from the skies; and, +retribution made, making-up at last, without +loss of dignity. With the event before us, we +thought it a small thing that twenty-four hours +more of alienation and pretended sulks must +be kept up on Harold's part; but Selina, who +naturally knew nothing of the treat in store for +her, moped for the rest of the evening, and took +a very heavy heart to bed.</p> + +<p>Next day when the hour for action arrived, +Harold evaded Olympian attention with an +easy modesty born of long practice, and made +off for the front gate. Selina, who had been +keeping her eye upon him, thought he was +going down to the pond to catch frogs, a joy +they had planned to share together, and made +after him. But Harold, though he heard her +footsteps, continued sternly on his high mission, +without even looking back; and Selina was left<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +to wander disconsolately among flower-beds that +had lost—for her—all scent and colour. I saw +it all, and, although cold reason approved our +line of action, instinct told me we were brutes.</p> + +<p>Harold reached the town—so he recounted +afterwards—in record time, having run most +of the way for fear the tea-things, which had +reposed six months in the window, should be +snapped up by some other conscience-stricken +lacerator of a sister's feelings; and it seemed +hardly credible to find them still there, and +their owner willing to part with them for the +price marked on the ticket. He paid his money +down at once, that there should be no drawing +back from the bargain; and then, as the things +had to be taken out of the window and packed, +and the afternoon was yet young, he thought +he might treat himself to a taste of urban joys +and the <i>vie de Bohême</i>. Shops came first, of +course, and he flattened his nose successively +against the window with the indiarubber balls +in it, and the clock-work locomotive; and +against the barber's window, with wigs on +blocks, reminding him of uncles, and shaving-cream<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +that looked so good to eat; and the +grocer's window, displaying more currants than +the whole British population could possibly +consume without a special effort; and the +window of the bank, wherein gold was thought +so little of that it was dealt about in shovels. +Next there was the market-place, with all its +clamorous joys; and when a runaway calf came +down the street like a cannon-ball, Harold felt +that he had not lived in vain. The whole place +was so brimful of excitement that he had quite +forgotten the why and the wherefore of his +being there, when a sight of the church clock +recalled him to his better self, and sent him +flying out of the town, as he realised he had +only just time enough left to get back in. If +he were after his appointed hour, he would not +only miss his high triumph, but probably would +be detected as a transgressor of bounds—a +crime before which a private opinion on multiplication +sank to nothingness. So he jogged +along on his homeward way, thinking of many +things, and probably talking to himself a good +deal, as his habit was. He had covered nearly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +half the distance, when suddenly—a deadly +sinking in the pit of his stomach—a paralysis +of every limb—around him a world extinct of +light and music—a black sun and a reeling +sky—he had forgotten the tea-things!</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 341px;"> +<img src="images/ill17.jpg" width="341" height="500" alt="'"Why, Master Harold! whatever be the matter? Baint runnin' away, be ee?"'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"Why, Master Harold! whatever be the matter? Baint runnin' away, be ee?"'</span> +</div> + +<p>It was useless, it was hopeless, all was over +and nothing could now be done. Nevertheless +he turned and ran back wildly, blindly, choking +with the big sobs that evoked neither pity nor +comfort from a merciless mocking world around; +a stitch in his side, dust in his eyes, and black +despair clutching at his heart. So he stumbled +on, with leaden legs and bursting sides, till—as +if Fate had not yet dealt him her last worst +buffet of all—on turning a corner in the road +he almost ran under the wheels of a dog-cart, +in which, as it pulled up, was apparent the +portly form of Farmer Larkin, the arch-enemy, +at whose ducks he had been shying stones that +very morning!</p> + +<p>Had Harold been in his right and unclouded +senses, he would have vanished through the +hedge some seconds earlier, rather than pain +the farmer by any unpleasant reminiscences<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +which his appearance might recall; but, as +things were, he could only stand and blubber +hopelessly, caring, indeed, little now what +further misery might befall him. The farmer, +for his part, surveyed the desolate figure with +some astonishment, calling out in no unfriendly +accents, 'Why, Master Harold! whatever be +the matter? Baint runnin' away, be ee?'</p> + +<p>Then Harold, with the unnatural courage +born of desperation, flung himself on the step, +and, climbing into the cart, fell in the straw at +the bottom of it, sobbing out that he wanted to +go back, go back! The situation had a vagueness; +but the farmer, a man of action rather +than of words, swung his horse round smartly, +and they were in the town again by the time +Harold had recovered himself sufficiently to +furnish details. As they drove up to the shop, +the woman was waiting at the door with the +parcel; and hardly a minute seemed to have +elapsed since the black crisis, ere they were +bowling along swiftly home, the precious parcel +hugged in a close embrace.</p> + +<p>And now the farmer came out in quite a new<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +and unexpected light. Never a word did he +say of broken fences and hurdles, of trampled +crops and harried flocks and herds. One would +have thought the man had never possessed a +head of live stock in his life. Instead, he was +deeply interested in the whole dolorous quest +of the tea-things, and sympathised with Harold +on the disputed point in mathematics as if he +had been himself at the same stage of education. +As they neared home, Harold found +himself, to his surprise, sitting up and chatting +to his new friend like man to man; and before +he was set down at a convenient gap in the +garden hedge, he had promised that when +Selina gave her first public tea-party, little Miss +Larkin should be invited to come and bring +her whole sawdust family along with her; and +the farmer appeared as pleased and proud as if +he had won a gold medal at the Agricultural +Show, and really, when I heard the story, it +began to dawn upon me that those Olympians +must have certain good points, far down in +them, and that I should have to leave off +abusing them some day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> + +<p>At the hour of five, Selina, having spent the +afternoon searching for Harold in all his accustomed +haunts, sat down disconsolately to tea +with her dolls, who ungenerously refused to +wait beyond the appointed hour. The wooden +tea-things seemed more chipped than usual; +and the dolls themselves had more of wax and +sawdust, and less of human colour and intelligence +about them, than she ever remembered +before. It was then that Harold burst in, very +dusty, his stockings at his heels, and the +channels ploughed by tears still showing on his +grimy cheeks; and Selina was at last permitted +to know that he had been thinking of her ever +since his ill-judged exhibition of temper, and +that his sulks had not been the genuine article, +nor had he gone frogging by himself. It was a +very happy hostess who dispensed hospitality +that evening to a glassy-eyed stiff-kneed circle; +and many a dollish <i>gaucherie</i>, that would have +been severely checked on ordinary occasions, +was as much overlooked as if it had been a +birthday.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Harold and I, in what I was afterwards +given to understand was our stupid masculine +way, thought all her happiness sprang from +possession of the long-coveted tea-service.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec011.png" width="400" height="144" alt="Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> +<h2>'LUSISTI SATIS'</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>AMONG the many fatuous ideas that possessed +the Olympian noddle, this one was +pre-eminent; that, being Olympians, they could +talk quite freely in our presence on subjects of +the closest import to us, so long as names, dates, +and other landmarks were ignored. We were +supposed to be denied the faculty for putting +two and two together, and like the monkeys, +who very sensibly refrain from speech lest they +should be set to earn their livings, we were +careful to conceal our capabilities for a simple +syllogism. Thus we were rarely taken by surprise, +and so were considered by our disappointed +elders to be apathetic and to lack the divine +capacity for wonder.</div> + +<p>Now the daily output of the letter-bag, with +the mysterious discussions that ensued thereon,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +had speedily informed us that Uncle Thomas +was intrusted with a mission—a mission, too, +affecting ourselves. Uncle Thomas's missions +were many and various. A self-important man, +one liking the business while protesting that he +sank under the burden, he was the missionary, +so to speak, of our remote habitation. The +matching a ribbon, the running down to the +stores, the interviewing a cook—these and +similar duties lent constant colour and variety +to his vacant life in London, and helped to keep +down his figure. When the matter, however, +had in our presence to be referred to with nods +and pronouns, with significant hiatuses and +interpolations in the French tongue, then the +red flag was flown, the storm-cone hoisted, and +by a studious pretence of inattention we were +not long in plucking out the heart of the +mystery.</p> + +<p>To clinch our conclusion, we descended +suddenly and together on Martha; proceeding, +however, not by simple inquiry as to facts—that +would never have done; but by informing +her that the air was full of school and that we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +knew all about it, and then challenging denial. +Martha was a trusty soul, but a bad witness for +the defence, and we soon had it all out of her. +The word had gone forth, the school had been +selected; the necessary sheets were hemming +even now, and Edward was the designated and +appointed victim.</p> + +<p>It had always been before us as an inevitable +bourne, this strange unknown thing called +school; and yet—perhaps I should say consequently—we +had never seriously set ourselves +to consider what it really meant. But now that +the grim spectre loomed imminent, stretching +lean hands for one of our flock, it behoved us +to face the situation, to take soundings in this +uncharted sea and find out whither we were +drifting. Unfortunately the data in our possession +were absolutely insufficient, and we knew +not whither to turn for exact information. +Uncle Thomas could have told us all about +it, of course; he had been there himself, once, +in the dim and misty past. But an unfortunate +conviction, that nature had intended him for +a humorist, tainted all his evidence, besides<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +making it wearisome to hear. Again, of such +among our contemporaries as we had approached, +the trumpets gave forth an uncertain +sound. According to some it meant larks, +revels, emancipation, and a foretaste of the +bliss of manhood. According to others—the +majority, alas!—it was a private and peculiar +Hades, that could give the original institution +points and a beating. When Edward was observed +to be swaggering round with a jaunty air +and his chest stuck out, I knew that he was contemplating +his future from the one point of view. +When, on the contrary, he was subdued and +unaggressive, and sought the society of his +sisters, I recognised that the other aspect was +in the ascendant. 'You can always run away, +you know,' I used to remark consolingly on +these latter occasions; and Edward would +brighten up wonderfully at the suggestion, +while Charlotte melted into tears before her +vision of a brother with blistered feet and an +empty belly, passing nights of frost 'neath the +lee of windy haystacks.</p> + +<p>It was to Edward, of course, that the situation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +was chiefly productive of anxiety; and yet the +ensuing change in my own circumstances and +position furnished me also with food for grave +reflexion. Hitherto I had acted mostly to +orders. Even when I had devised and counselled +any particular devilry, it had been carried +out on Edward's approbation, and—as eldest—at +his special risk. Henceforward I began to +be anxious of the bugbear Responsibility, and +to realise what a soul-throttling thing it is. +True, my new position would have its compensations. +Edward had been masterful exceedingly, imperious, +perhaps a little narrow; +impassioned for hard facts, and with scant sympathy +for make-believe. I should now be free +and untrammelled; in the conception and the +carrying out of a scheme, I could accept and +reject to better artistic purpose.</p> + +<p>It would, moreover, be needless to be a Radical +any more. Radical I never was, really, by +nature or by sympathy. The part had been +thrust on me one day, when Edward proposed +to foist the House of Lords on our small republic. +The principles of the thing he set forth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +learnedly and well, and it all sounded promising +enough, till he went on to explain that, for the +present at least, he proposed to be the House +of Lords himself. We others were to be the +Commons. There would be promotions, of +course, he added, dependent on service and on +fitness, and open to both sexes; and to me in +especial he held out hopes of speedy advancement. +But in its initial stages the thing +wouldn't work properly unless he were first +and only Lord. Then I put my foot down +promptly, and said it was all rot, and I didn't +see the good of any House of Lords at all. +'Then you must be a low Radical!' said +Edward, with fine contempt. The inference +seemed hardly necessary, but what could I do? +I accepted the situation, and said firmly, Yes, I +was a low Radical. In this monstrous character +I had been obliged to masquerade ever +since; but now I could throw it off, and look +the world in the face again.</p> + +<p>And yet, did this and other gains really +outbalance my losses? Henceforth I should, +it was true, be leader and chief; but I should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +also be the buffer between the Olympians and +my little clan. To Edward this had been +nothing; he had withstood the impact of +Olympus without flinching, like Teneriffe or +Atlas unremoved. But was I equal to the +task? And was there not rather a danger that +for the sake of peace and quietness I might be +tempted to compromise, compound, and make +terms? sinking thus, by successive lapses, into +the Blameless Prig? I don't mean, of course, +that I thought out my thoughts to the exact +point here set down. In those fortunate days +of old one was free from the hard necessity of +transmuting the vague idea into the mechanical +inadequate medium of words. But the feeling +was there, that I might not possess the qualities +of character for so delicate a position.</p> + +<p>The unnatural halo round Edward got more +pronounced, his own demeanour more responsible +and dignified, with the arrival of his new +clothes. When his trunk and play-box were +sent in, the approaching cleavage between our +brother, who now belonged to the future, and +ourselves, still claimed by the past, was accentuated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +indeed. His name was painted on each +of them, in large letters, and after their arrival +their owner used to disappear mysteriously, and +be found eventually wandering round his luggage, +murmuring to himself, 'Edward ——,' in a rapt +remote sort of way. It was a weakness, of +course, and pointed to a soft spot in his character; +but those who can remember the sensation +of first seeing their names in print will not +think hardly of him.</p> + +<p>As the short days sped by and the grim event +cast its shadow longer and longer across our +threshold, an unnatural politeness, a civility +scarce canny, began to pervade the air. In +those latter hours Edward himself was frequently +heard to say 'Please,' and also 'Would +you mind fetchin' that ball?' while Harold and +I would sometimes actually find ourselves trying +to anticipate his wishes. As for the girls, they +simply grovelled. The Olympians, too, in their +uncouth way, by gift of carnal delicacies and +such-like indulgence, seemed anxious to demonstrate +that they had hitherto misjudged this one +of us. Altogether the situation grew strained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +and false, and I think a general relief was felt +when the end came.</p> + +<p>We all trooped down to the station, of course; +it is only in later years that the farce of 'seeing +people off' is seen in its true colours. Edward +was the life and soul of the party; and if his +gaiety struck one at times as being a trifle +overdone, it was not a moment to be critical. +As we tramped along, I promised him I would +ask Farmer Larkin not to kill any more pigs +till he came back for the holidays, and he said +he would send me a proper catapult,—the real +lethal article, not a kid's plaything. Then +suddenly, when we were about half-way down, +one of the girls fell a-snivelling.</p> + +<p>The happy few who dare to laugh at the woes +of sea-sickness will perhaps remember how, on +occasion, the sudden collapse of a fellow-voyager +before their very eyes has caused them hastily to +revise their self-confidence and resolve to walk +more humbly for the future. Even so it was +with Edward, who turned his head aside, feigning +an interest in the landscape. It was but for +a moment; then he recollected the hat he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +wearing—a hard bowler, the first of that sort +he had ever owned. He took it off, examined +it, and felt it over. Something about it seemed +to give him strength, and he was a man once +more.</p> + +<p>At the station, Edward's first care was to +dispose his boxes on the platform so that every +one might see the labels and the lettering +thereon. One did not go to school for the first +time every day! Then he read both sides of +his ticket carefully; shifted it to every one of +his pockets in turn; and finally fell to chinking +of his money, to keep his courage up. We +were all dry of conversation by this time, and +could only stand round and stare in silence +at the victim decked for the altar. And, as I +looked at Edward, in new clothes of a manly +cut, with a hard hat upon his head, a railway +ticket in one pocket and money of his own in +the other—money to spend as he liked and no +questions asked!—I began to feel dimly how +great was the gulf already yawning betwixt us. +Fortunately I was not old enough to realise, +further, that here on this little platform the old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +order lay at its last gasp, and that Edward might +come back to us, but it would not be the Edward +of yore, nor could things ever be the same again.</p> + +<p>When the train steamed up at last, we all +boarded it impetuously with the view of selecting +the one peerless carriage to which Edward +might be intrusted with the greatest comfort +and honour; and as each one found the ideal +compartment at the same moment, and vociferously +maintained its merits, he stood some +chance for a time of being left behind. A porter +settled the matter by heaving him through the +nearest door; and as the train moved off, +Edward's head was thrust out of the window, +wearing on it an unmistakable first-quality grin +that he had been saving up somewhere for the +supreme moment. Very small and white his +face looked, on the long side of the retreating +train. But the grin was visible, undeniable, +stoutly maintained; till a curve swept him from +our sight, and he was borne away in the dying +rumble, out of our placid backwater, out into the +busy world of rubs and knocks and competition, +out into the New Life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 335px;"> +<img src="images/ill18.jpg" width="335" height="500" alt="'Finally we found ourselves sitting silent on an upturned wheelbarrow'" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'Finally we found ourselves sitting silent on an upturned wheelbarrow'</span> +</div> + +<p>When a crab has lost a leg, his gait is still +more awkward than his wont, till Time and +healing Nature make him <i>totus teres atque +rotundus</i> once more. We straggled back from +the station disjointedly; Harold, who was very +silent, sticking close to me, his last slender +prop, while the girls in front, their heads together, +were already reckoning up the weeks to +the holidays. Home at last, Harold suggested +one or two occupations of a spicy and contraband +flavour, but though we did our manful best there +was no knocking any interest out of them. Then +I suggested others, with the same want of success. +Finally we found ourselves sitting silent +on an upturned wheelbarrow, our chins on our +fists, staring haggardly into the raw new conditions +of our changed life, the ruins of a past +behind our backs.</p> + +<p>And all the while Selina and Charlotte were +busy stuffing Edward's rabbits with unwonted +forage, bilious and green; polishing up the cage +of his mice till the occupants raved and swore +like householders in spring-time; and collecting +materials for new bows and arrows, whips, boats,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +guns, and four-in-hand harness, against the +return of Ulysses. Little did they dream that +the hero, once back from Troy and all its onsets, +would scornfully condemn their clumsy but +laborious armoury as rot and humbug and +only fit for kids! This, with many another +like awakening, was mercifully hidden from +them. Could the veil have been lifted, and the +girls permitted to see Edward as he would +appear a short three months hence, ragged +of attire and lawless of tongue, a scorner of +tradition and an adept in strange new physical +tortures, one who would in the same half-hour +dismember a doll and shatter a hallowed belief,—in +fine, a sort of swaggering Captain, fresh +from the Spanish Main,—could they have had +the least hint of this, well, then perhaps——. +But which of us is of mental fibre to stand the +test of a glimpse into futurity? Let us only +hope that, even with certain disillusionment +ahead, the girls would have acted precisely +as they did.</p> + +<p>And perhaps we have reason to be very grateful +that, both as children and long afterwards,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +we are never allowed to guess how the absorbing +pursuit of the moment will appear not only to +others but to ourselves, a very short time hence. +So we pass, with a gusto and a heartiness that +to an onlooker would seem almost pathetic, from +one droll devotion to another misshapen passion; +and who shall dare to play Rhadamanthus, to +appraise the record, and to decide how much +of it is solid achievement, and how much the +merest child's play?</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec012.png" width="400" height="120" alt="Decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> + +<h2><span class="u">BOOKS BY KENNETH GRAHAME</span></h2> + + +<h3><span class="u">DREAM DAYS</span></h3> + +<div class='hang1'>THE OUTLOOK.—'Nobody with a sense of what is rare and humorous +and true can afford to miss this volume.'</div> + +<div class='hang1'>LITERATURE.—'In "Dream Days" we are conscious of the same +magic touch which charmed us in "The Golden Age." There is +magic in all the sketches, but it is perhaps in "Its Walls were as of +Jasper"—the beautiful title of a beautiful story—that Mr. Grahame +stands confessed as a veritable wizard.'</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE DAILY TELEGRAPH.—'Happy Mr. Grahame, who can weave +romances so well.'</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE WORLD.—'Could only have been written by a poet full of +happy imaginings, quaint conceits, and a certain winsome waywardness +which has a charm of its own. . . . The closing chapter is full +of a tenderness and reticent pathos far above anything the author +has yet achieved. It is certainly a book to be read, for it would be a +pity to miss the many exquisite passages it contains.'</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE DAILY MAIL.—'Mr. Grahame's book will bring youth and +joy into many a jaded heart.'<br /><br /></div> + + +<h3><span class="u">THE HEADSWOMAN</span></h3> + +<div class='hang1'>THE BOOKMAN.—'Mr. Grahame's cleverness does not forsake him +when he attempts satire. "The Headswoman" is a pretty bit of +foolery.'</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE LITERARY WORLD.—'A delightful little tale with a tinge +of satire in it. For gracefulness of style and charm in the telling of +a story it is in the front rank, and that is saying a great deal.'</div> + +<div class='hang1'>MR. W. L. COURTNEY IN DAILY TELEGRAPH.—'Well, we are +more than a trifle dull, <i>nous autres</i>; and we should be grateful to +Mr. Kenneth Grahame for throwing in a story or two of his own +as often as he can. Happy Mr. Grahame, who can weave romances +so well.'</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE DUNDEE ADVERTISER.—'Humour is not dead amongst us, +for Kenneth Grahame's witty little romance of "The Headswoman" +brims over with it.'</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE SCOTSMAN.—'Mr. Grahame has written a most charming +book, which cannot fail to delight all who were once children.'<br /><br /></div> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><span class="u">THE GOLDEN AGE</span></h3> + +<div class='hang1'>MR. I. ZANGWILL IN PALL MALL MAGAZINE.—'No more enjoyable +interpretation of the child's mind has been accorded us since +Stevenson's "Child's Garden of Verses."</div> + +<div class='hang1'>MR. A. C. SWINBURNE IN THE DAILY CHRONICLE SAYS,—'The +art of writing adequately and acceptively about children is +among the rarest and most precious of all arts. . . . "The Golden +Age" is one of the few books which are well-nigh too praiseworthy +for praise.'</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE NATIONAL OBSERVER.—'If there is a man or woman living +who cannot read this book with delight, to him or her we offer our +pity and compassion.'</div> + +<div class='hang1'>PROFESSOR J. SULLY.—'Quite lately more than one serious attempt +has been made to give childhood its due in fiction. A notable +instance is Mr. Kenneth Grahame's pictures from child-life.'<br /><br /></div> + + +<h3><span class="u">PAGAN PAPERS</span></h3> + +<div class='hang1'>THE ACADEMY.—'Rarely does one meet with an author whose wit +is so apt, whose touches of sentiment are so genuine. His paper on +tobacco is good reading, though one remembers Calverley and the +Arcadian mixture; the eulogy on the loafer is second only to Mr. +Stevenson's praise of "The Idler." There is too a distinct flavour of +poetry in much of Mr. Grahame's works. One could have wished +"White Poppies" had been written in verse, were not the prose of +it so delicate and adequate.'</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE DAILY CHRONICLE.—'Mr. Kenneth Grahame's accomplishment +is astounding. . . . His style is a delight, so high is its vitality, +so cool its colours, so nimble and various its rhythms. He has read +and assimilated Browne Burton. He has a pretty poetic fancy and +is apt at a quaint analogy. Many forms of beauty—existent and +non-existent—he loves with a deep and discriminating love.'</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> +<h2><span class="u">P.J. BILLINGHURST'S FABLE-BOOKS</span></h2> + + +<h3>A HUNDRED FABLES OF ÆSOP</h3> + +<div class="hang1">With 101 full-page illustrations by PERCY J. BILLINGHURST, +and a fifteen-page introduction including two new +and original fables by KENNETH GRAHAME.</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>A HUNDRED FABLES OF LA FONTAINE</h3> + +<div class='unindent'>With 101 full-page illustrations by PERCY J. BILLINGHURST.</div> + +<div class="hang1">In <i>La Fontaine's Fables</i>, Mr. Billinghurst's delightful animals +pose and strut and swagger in the same powerful and +moral-mending manner that they did in his Æsop.—KENNETH +GRAHAME in <i>Daily Mail</i>.</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>A HUNDRED ANECDOTES OF ANIMALS</h3> + +<div class='unindent'>With 102 full-page illustrations by PERCY J. BILLINGHURST.</div> + +<div class="hang1">It is a treasure-house of natural history anecdotes, sumptuously +illustrated in black and white, and serves both to +arouse and stimulate interest in the subject in children of +a knowledgeable age.</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/endpaper1.jpg" width="600" height="405" alt="Endpapers" title="" /> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>Repeated chapter titles were removed. Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Golden Age, by Kenneth Grahame + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOLDEN AGE *** + +***** This file should be named 32501-h.htm or 32501-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/5/0/32501/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) + + +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. 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