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diff --git a/35187-h/35187-h.htm b/35187-h/35187-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..698297f --- /dev/null +++ b/35187-h/35187-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6059 @@ +<!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 Dream Days, 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 { 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;} + .small {font-size: 70%;} + .big {font-size: 110%;} + .author {font-size: 120%; text-align: center;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .chaptertitle {text-align: center; font-size: 110%; font-weight: bold;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%;} + + .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; + } + .poem {margin-left: 30%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .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 Dream Days, 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: Dream Days + +Author: Kenneth Grahame + +Illustrator: Maxfield Parrish + +Release Date: February 6, 2011 [EBook #35187] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DREAM DAYS *** + + + + +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/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="422" height="600" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 362px;"> +<img src="images/ill01.jpg" width="362" height="500" alt="ITS WALLS WERE AS OF JASPER" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ITS WALLS WERE AS OF JASPER</span> +</div> + + +<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/1288/1288-h/1288-h.htm"> +1288</a> </b> </td><td>(A Table of Contents) +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/270/270-h/270-h.htm"> +270</a></b></td><td>(A Table of Contents) +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/35187/35187-h/35187-h.htm"> +35187</a></b> </td><td>(Illustrated HTML File, and a Table of Contents) +</td></tr> + +</table> + + + + +<h1>DREAM DAYS</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='center'><i><span class='small'>COMPANION VOLUME TO THIS BOOK</span></i><br /> + +THE GOLDEN AGE<br /> + +<span class='small'>BY</span><br /> + +KENNETH GRAHAME<br /> + +<i><span class='small'>PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED BY MAXFIELD PARRISH</span></i></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>DREAM DAYS</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" width="600" height="846" alt="Title page" title="" /> +</div> + +<h1>DREAM DAYS</h1> + +<div class='author'>BY KENNETH GRAHAME</div> + +<div class='center'><br /><br />ILLUSTRATED BY MAXFIELD PARRISH<br /> +<br /><br /> +<br /> +JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD<br /> +LONDON AND NEW YORK<br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='left'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE TWENTY-FIRST OF OCTOBER</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>DIES IRÆ</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MUTABILE SEMPER</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE MAGIC RING</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>ITS WALLS WERE AS OF JASPER</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A SAGA OF THE SEAS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RELUCTANT DRAGON</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A DEPARTURE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_207">207</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>THE TWENTY-FIRST OF OCTOBER</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IN the matter of general culture and attainments, +we youngsters stood on pretty level +ground. True, it was always happening that +one of us would be singled out at any moment, +freakishly, and without regard to his own preferences, +to wrestle with the inflections of some +idiotic language long rightly dead; while another, +from some fancied artistic tendency which +always failed to justify itself, might be told off +without warning to hammer out scales and exercises, +and to bedew the senseless keys with tears +of weariness or of revolt. But in subjects common +to either sex, and held to be necessary even +for him whose ambition soared no higher than +to crack a whip in a circus-ring—in geography, +for instance, arithmetic, or the weary doings of +kings and queens—each would have scorned to +excel. And, indeed, whatever our individual<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +gifts, a general dogged determination to shirk +and to evade kept us all at much the same +dead level,—a level of ignorance tempered +by insubordination.</div> + +<p>Fortunately there existed a wide range of +subjects, of healthier tone than those already +enumerated, in which we were free to choose +for ourselves, and which we would have scorned +to consider education; and in these we freely +followed each his own particular line, often +attaining an amount of special knowledge which +struck our ignorant elders as simply uncanny. +For Edward, the uniforms, accoutrements, +colours, and mottoes of the regiments composing +the British Army had a special glamour. +In the matter of facings he was simply faultless; +among chevrons, badges, medals, and +stars, he moved familiarly; he even knew the +names of most of the colonels in command; +and he would squander sunny hours prone on +the lawn, heedless of challenge from bird or +beast, poring over a tattered Army List. My +own accomplishment was of another character—took, +as it seemed to me, a wider and a more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +untrammelled range. Dragoons might have +swaggered in Lincoln green, riflemen might +have donned sporrans over tartan trews, without +exciting notice or comment from me. But +did you seek precise information as to the fauna +of the American continent, then you had come +to the right shop. Where and why the bison +"wallowed"; how beaver were to be trapped +and wild turkeys stalked; the grizzly and how +to handle him, and the pretty pressing ways of +the constrictor,—in fine, the haunts and the +habits of all that burrowed, strutted, roared, or +wriggled between the Atlantic and the Pacific,—all +this knowledge I took for my province. +By the others my equipment was fully recognised. +Supposing a book with a bear-hunt in +it made its way into the house, and the atmosphere +was electric with excitement; still, it was +necessary that I should first decide whether the +slot had been properly described and properly +followed up, ere the work could be stamped +with full approval. A writer might have won +fame throughout the civilised globe for his +trappers and his realistic backwoods, and all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +went for nothing. If his pemmican were not +properly compounded I damned his achievement, +and it was heard no more of.</p> + +<p>Harold was hardly old enough to possess +a special subject of his own. He had his +instincts, indeed, and at bird's-nesting they almost +amounted to prophecy. Where we others +only suspected eggs, surmised possible eggs, +hinted doubtfully at eggs in the neighbourhood, +Harold went straight for the right bush, bough, +or hole as if he carried a divining-rod. But +this faculty belonged to the class of mere gifts, +and was not to be ranked with Edward's lore +regarding facings, and mine as to the habits of +prairie-dogs, both gained by painful study and +extensive travel in those "realms of gold," the +Army List and Ballantyne.</p> + +<p>Selina's subject, quite unaccountably, happened +to be naval history. There is no laying +down rules as to subjects; you just possess +them—or rather, they possess you—and their +genesis or protoplasm is rarely to be tracked down. +Selina had never so much as seen the sea; but +for that matter neither had I ever set foot on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +the American continent, the by-ways of which +I knew so intimately. And just as I, if set +down without warning in the middle of the +Rocky Mountains, would have been perfectly +at home, so Selina, if a genie had dropped her +suddenly on Portsmouth Hard, could have +given points to most of its frequenters. From +the days of Blake down to the death of Nelson +(she never condescended further), Selina had +taken spiritual part in every notable engagement +of the British Navy; and even in the +dark days when she had to pick up skirts and +flee, chased by an ungallant De Ruyter or Van +Tromp, she was yet cheerful in the consciousness +that ere long she would be gleefully hammering +the fleets of the world, in the glorious +times to follow. When that golden period +arrived, Selina was busy indeed; and, while +loving best to stand where the splinters were +flying the thickest, she was also a careful and +critical student of seamanship and of manœuvre. +She knew the order in which the great line-of-battle +ships moved into action, the vessels they +respectively engaged, the moment when each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +let go its anchor, and which of them had a +spring on its cable (while not understanding the +phrase, she carefully noted the fact); and she +habitually went into an engagement on the +quarter-deck of the gallant ship that reserved +its fire the longest.</p> + +<p>At the time of Selina's weird seizure I was +unfortunately away from home, on a loathsome +visit to an aunt; and my account is therefore +feebly compounded from hearsay. It was an +absence I never ceased to regret—scoring it +up, with a sense of injury, against the aunt. +There was a splendid uselessness about the +whole performance that specially appealed to +my artistic sense. That it should have been +Selina, too, who should break out this way—Selina, +who had just become a regular subscriber +to the "Young Ladies' Journal," and +who allowed herself to be taken out to strange +teas with an air of resignation palpably assumed—this +was a special joy, and served to remind +me that much of this dreaded convention that +was creeping over us might be, after all, only +veneer. Edward also was absent, getting licked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +into shape at school; but to him the loss was +nothing. With his stern practical bent he +wouldn't have seen any sense in it—to recall +one of his favourite expressions. To Harold, +however, for whom the gods had always cherished +a special tenderness, it was granted, not +only to witness, but also, priestlike, to feed the +sacred fire itself. And if at the time he paid +the penalty exacted by the sordid unimaginative +ones who temporarily rule the roast, he must +ever after, one feels sure, have carried inside +him some of the white gladness of the acolyte +who, greatly privileged, has been permitted +to swing a censer at the sacring of the very +Mass.</p> + +<p>October was mellowing fast, and with it the +year itself; full of tender hints, in woodland +and hedgerow, of a course well-nigh completed. +From all sides that still afternoon you caught +the quick breathing and sob of the runner +nearing the goal. Preoccupied and possessed, +Selina had strayed down the garden and out +into the pasture beyond, where, on a bit of +rising ground that dominated the garden on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +one side and the downs with the old coach-road +on the other, she had cast herself down +to chew the cud of fancy. There she was presently +joined by Harold, breathless and very +full of his latest grievance.</p> + +<p>"I asked him not to," he burst out. "I +said if he'd only please wait a bit and Edward +would be back soon, and it couldn't matter to +<i>him</i>, and the pig wouldn't mind, and Edward'd +be pleased and everybody'd be happy. But he +just said he was very sorry, but bacon didn't +wait for nobody. So I told him he was a +regular beast, and then I came away. And—and +I b'lieve they're doing it now!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's a beast," agreed Selina, absently. +She had forgotten all about the pig-killing. +Harold kicked away a freshly thrown-up mole-hill, +and prodded down the hole with a stick. +From the direction of Farmer Larkin's demesne +came a long drawn note of sorrow, a thin cry +and appeal, telling that the stout soul of a black +Berkshire pig was already faring down the stony +track to Hades.</p> + +<p>"D'you know what day it is?" said Selina<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +presently, in a low voice, looking far away +before her.</p> + +<p>Harold did not appear to know, nor yet to +care. He had laid open his mole-run for a yard +or so, and was still grubbing at it absorbedly.</p> + +<p>"It's Trafalgar Day," went on Selina, +trancedly; "Trafalgar Day—and nobody +cares!"</p> + +<p>Something in her tone told Harold that he +was not behaving quite becomingly. He didn't +exactly know in what manner; still, he abandoned +his mole-hunt for a more courteous attitude +of attention.</p> + +<p>"Over there," resumed Selina—she was +gazing out in the direction of the old highroad—"over +there the coaches used to go by. +Uncle Thomas was telling me about it the other +day. And the people used to watch for 'em +coming, to tell the time by, and p'r'aps to get +their parcels. And one morning—they wouldn't +be expecting anything different—one morning, +first there would be a cloud of dust, as usual, +and then the coach would come racing by, and +then they would know! For the coach would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +be dressed in laurel, all laurel from stem to +stern! And the coachman would be wearing +laurel, and the guard would be wearing laurel, +and then they would know, then they would +know!"</p> + +<p>Harold listened in respectful silence. He +would much rather have been hunting the mole, +who must have been a mile away by this time +if he had his wits about him. But he had all +the natural instincts of a gentleman; of whom it +is one of the principal marks, if not the complete +definition, never to show signs of being bored.</p> + +<p>Selina rose to her feet, and paced the turf +restlessly with a short quarter-deck walk.</p> + +<p>"Why can't we <i>do</i> something?" she burst +out presently. "<i>He</i>—he did everything—why +can't we do anything for him?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Who</i> did everything?" inquired Harold, +meekly. It was useless wasting further longings +on that mole. Like the dead, he travelled +fast.</p> + +<p>"Why, Nelson, of course," said Selina, +shortly, still looking restlessly around for help +or suggestion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But he's—he's <i>dead</i>, isn't he?" asked +Harold, slightly puzzled.</p> + +<p>"What's that got to do with it?" retorted +his sister, resuming her caged-lion promenade.</p> + +<p>Harold was somewhat taken aback. In the +case of the pig, for instance, whose last outcry +had now passed into stillness, he had considered +the chapter as finally closed. Whatever innocent +mirth the holidays might hold in store for +Edward, that particular pig, at least, would not +be a contributor. And now he was given to +understand that the situation had not materially +changed! He would have to revise his +ideas, it seemed. Sitting up on end, he +looked towards the garden for assistance in +the task. Thence, even as he gazed, a tiny +column of smoke rose straight up into the still +air. The gardener had been sweeping that +afternoon, and now, an unconscious priest, was +offering his sacrifice of autumn leaves to the +calm-eyed goddess of changing hues and chill +forebodings who was moving slowly about the +land that golden afternoon. Harold was up +and off in a moment, forgetting Nelson, forgetting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +the pig, the mole, the Larkin betrayal, +and Selina's strange fever of conscience. Here +was fire, real fire, to play with, and that was +even better than messing with water, or remodelling +the plastic surface of the earth. Of all +the toys the world provides for right-minded persons, +the original elements rank easily the first.</p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>THE TWENTY-FIRST OF OCTOBER<br /><br /> +"<i>Harold, . . . with a vision of a frenzied gardener, pea-stickless, +and threatening retribution.</i>"</td><td align='left'><img src="images/ill02.jpg" width="364" height="500" alt="THE TWENTY-FIRST OF OCTOBER" title="" /></td> +</tr> +</table></div> +<p>But Selina sat on where she was, her chin on +her fists; and her fancies whirled and drifted, +here and there, in curls and eddies, along with +the smoke she was watching. As the quick-footed +dusk of the short October day stepped +lightly over the garden, little red tongues of fire +might be seen to leap and vanish in the smoke. +Harold, anon staggering under armfuls of leaves, +anon stoking vigorously, was discernible only +at fitful intervals. It was another sort of smoke +that the inner eye of Selina was looking upon,—a +smoke that hung in sullen banks round the +masts and the hulls of the fighting ships; a +smoke from beneath which came thunder and +the crash and the splinter-rip, the shout of the +boarding-party, the choking sob of the gunner +stretched by his gun; a smoke from out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +which at last she saw, as through a riven pall, +the radiant spirit of the Victor, crowned with +the coronal of a perfect death, leap in full +assurance up into the ether that Immortals +breathe. The dusk was glooming towards +darkness when she rose and moved slowly down +towards the beckoning fire; something of the +priestess in her stride, something of the devotee +in the set purpose of her eye.</p> + +<p>The leaves were well alight by this time, and +Harold had just added an old furze bush, which +flamed and crackled stirringly.</p> + +<p>"Go 'n' get some more sticks," ordered +Selina, "and shavings, 'n' chunks of wood, +'n' anything you can find. Look here—in the +kitchen-garden there's a pile of old pea-sticks. +Fetch as many as you can carry, and then go +back and bring some more!"</p> + +<p>"But I say,—" began Harold, amazedly, +scarce knowing his sister, and with a vision of +a frenzied gardener, pea-stickless and threatening +retribution.</p> + +<p>"Go and fetch 'em quick!" shouted Selina, +stamping with impatience.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p>Harold ran off at once, true to the stern system +of discipline in which he had been nurtured. +But his eyes were like round O's, and as he +ran he talked fast to himself, in evident disorder +of mind.</p> + +<p>The pea-sticks made a rare blaze, and the +fire, no longer smouldering sullenly, leapt up +and began to assume the appearance of a genuine +bonfire. Harold, awed into silence at first, +began to jump round it with shouts of triumph. +Selina looked on grimly, with knitted brow; +she was not yet fully satisfied. "Can't you get +any more sticks?" she said presently. "Go +and hunt about. Get some old hampers and +matting and things out of the tool-house. +Smash up that old cucumber frame Edward +shoved you into, the day we were playing scouts +and Mohicans. Stop a bit! Hooray! I know. +You come along with me."</p> + +<p>Hard by there was a hot-house, Aunt Eliza's +special pride and joy, and even grimly approved +of by the gardener. At one end, in an out-house +adjoining, the necessary firing was stored; +and to this sacred fuel, of which we were strictly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +forbidden to touch a stick, Selina went straight. +Harold followed obediently, prepared for any +crime after that of the pea-sticks, but pinching +himself to see if he were really awake.</p> + +<p>"You bring some coals," said Selina briefly, +without any palaver or pro-and-con discussion. +"Here's a basket. <i>I'll</i> manage the faggots!"</p> + +<p>In a very few minutes there was little doubt +about its being a genuine bonfire and no paltry +makeshift. Selina, a Mænad now, hatless and +tossing disordered locks, all the dross of the +young lady purged out of her, stalked around +the pyre of her own purloining, or prodded it +with a pea-stick. And as she prodded she murmured +at intervals, "I <i>knew</i> there was something +we could do! It isn't much—but still +it's <i>something</i>!"</p> + +<p>The gardener had gone home to his tea. +Aunt Eliza had driven out for hers a long way +off, and was not expected back till quite late; +and this far end of the garden was not overlooked +by any windows. So the Tribute blazed on +merrily unchecked. Villagers far away, catching +sight of the flare, muttered something about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +"them young devils at their tricks again", and +trudged on beer-wards. Never a thought of +what day it was, never a thought for Nelson, +who preserved their honest pint-pots, to be paid +for in honest pence, and saved them from <i>litres</i> +and decimal coinage. Nearer at hand, frightened +rabbits popped up and vanished with a +flick of white tails; scared birds fluttered among +the branches, or sped across the glade to quieter +sleeping-quarters; but never a bird nor a beast +gave a thought to the hero to whom they owed +it that each year their little homes of horsehair, +wool, or moss, were safe stablished 'neath the +flap of the British flag; and that Game Laws, +quietly permanent, made <i>la chasse</i> a terror only +to their betters. No one seemed to know, nor +to care, nor to sympathise. In all the ecstasy +of her burnt-offering and sacrifice, Selina stood +alone.</p> + +<p>And yet—not quite alone! For, as the fire +was roaring at its best, certain stars stepped +delicately forth on the surface of the immensity +above, and peered down doubtfully—with wonder +at first, then with interest, then with recognition,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +with a start of glad surprise. <i>They</i> at +least knew all about it, <i>they</i> understood. Among +<i>them</i> the Name was a daily familiar word; his +story was a part of the music to which they +swung, himself was their fellow and their mate +and comrade. So they peeped, and winked, +and peeped again, and called to their laggard +brothers to come quick and see.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"The best of life is but intoxication;" and +Selina, who during her brief inebriation had +lived in an ecstasy as golden as our drab existence +affords, had to experience the inevitable +bitterness of awakening sobriety, when the dying +down of the flames into sullen embers coincided +with the frenzied entrance of Aunt Eliza +on the scene. It was not so much that she was +at once and forever disrated, broke, sent before +the mast, and branded as one on whom no reliance +could be placed, even with Edward safe +at school, and myself under the distant vigilance +of an aunt; that her pocket money was stopped +indefinitely, and her new Church Service, the +pride of her last birthday, removed from her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +own custody and placed under the control of +a Trust. She sorrowed rather because she had +dragged poor Harold, against his better judgment, +into a most horrible scrape, and moreover +because, when the reaction had fairly set in, +when the exaltation had fizzled away and the +young-lady portion of her had crept timorously +back to its wonted lodging, she could only see +herself as a plain fool, unjustified, undeniable, +without a shadow of an excuse or explanation.</p> + +<p>As for Harold, youth and a short memory +made his case less pitiful than it seemed to his +more sensitive sister. True, he started upstairs +to his lonely cot bellowing dismally, before him +a dreary future of pains and penalties, sufficient +to last to the crack of doom. Outside his door, +however, he tumbled over Augustus the cat, +and made capture of him; and at once his +mourning was changed into a song of triumph, +as he conveyed his prize into port. For Augustus, +who detested above all things going to +bed with little boys, was ever more knave than +fool, and the trapper who was wily enough to +ensnare him had achieved something notable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +Augustus, when he realised that his fate was +sealed, and his night's lodging settled, wisely +made the best of things, and listened, with a +languorous air of complete comprehension, to the +incoherent babble concerning pigs and heroes, +moles and bonfires, which served Harold for +a self-sung lullaby. Yet it may be doubted +whether Augustus was one of those rare fellows +who thoroughly understood.</p> + +<p>But Selina knew no more of this source of +consolation than of the sympathy with which the +stars were winking above her; and it was only +after some sad interval of time, and on a very +moist pillow, that she drifted into that quaint +inconsequent country where you may meet your +own pet hero strolling down the road, and commit +what hair-brained oddities you like, and +everybody understands and appreciates.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec01.png" width="400" height="130" alt="Decoration: Two fish and a ship" title="" /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + +<h2>DIES IRÆ</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THOSE memorable days that move in procession, +their heads just out of the mist +of years long dead—the most of them are full-eyed +as the dandelion that from dawn to shade +has steeped itself in sunlight. Here and there +in their ranks, however, moves a forlorn one +who is blind—blind in the sense of the dulled +window-pane on which the pelting raindrops +have mingled and run down, obscuring sunshine +and the circling birds, happy fields, and storied +garden; blind with the spatter of a misery uncomprehended, +unanalysed, only felt as something +corporeal in its buffeting effects.</div> + +<p>Martha began it; and yet Martha was not +really to blame. Indeed, that was half the +trouble of it—no solid person stood full in +view, to be blamed and to make atonement. +There was only a wretched, impalpable condition<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +to deal with. Breakfast was just over; +the sun was summoning us, imperious as a +herald with clamour of trumpet; I ran upstairs +to her with a broken bootlace in my hand, and +there she was, crying in a corner, her head in +her apron. Nothing could be got from her but +the same dismal succession of sobs that would +not have done, that struck and hurt like a +physical beating; and meanwhile the sun was +getting impatient, and I wanted my bootlace.</p> + +<p>Inquiry below stairs revealed the cause. +Martha's brother was dead, it seemed—her +sailor brother Billy; drowned in one of those +strange far-off seas it was our dream to navigate +one day. We had known Billy well, and appreciated +him. When an approaching visit of Billy +to his sister had been announced, we had counted +the days to it. When his cheery voice was at +last heard in the kitchen and we had descended +with shouts, first of all he had to exhibit his +tattooed arms, always a subject for fresh delight +and envy and awe; then he was called upon for +tricks, jugglings, and strange, fearful gymnastics; +and lastly came yarns, and more yarns,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +and yarns till bedtime. There had never been +any one like Billy in his own particular sphere; +and now he was drowned, they said, and Martha +was miserable, and—and I couldn't get a new +bootlace. They told me that Billy would never +come back any more, and I stared out of the +window at the sun which came back, right +enough, every day, and their news conveyed +nothing whatever to me. Martha's sorrow hit +home a little, but only because the actual sight +and sound of it gave me a dull, bad sort of pain +low down inside—a pain not to be actually +located. Moreover, I was still wanting my +bootlace.</p> + +<p>This was a poor sort of a beginning to a day +that, so far as outside conditions went, had +promised so well. I rigged up a sort of jury-mast +of a bootlace with a bit of old string, and +wandered off to look up the girls, conscious of +a jar and a discordance in the scheme of things. +The moment I entered the schoolroom something +in the air seemed to tell me that here, too, +matters were strained and awry. Selina was +staring listlessly out of the window, one foot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +curled round her leg. When I spoke to her +she jerked a shoulder testily, but did not condescend +to the civility of a reply. Charlotte, +absolutely unoccupied, sprawled in a chair, and +there were signs of sniffles about her, even at +that early hour. It was but a trifling matter +that had caused all this electricity in the atmosphere, +and the girls' manner of taking it seemed +to me most unreasonable. Within the last few +days the time had come round for the despatch +of a hamper to Edward at school. Only one +hamper a term was permitted him, so its preparation +was a sort of blend of revelry and religious +ceremony. After the main corpus of the thing +had been carefully selected and safely bestowed—the +pots of jam, the cake, the sausages, and +the apples that filled up corners so nicely—after +the last package had been wedged in, the +girls had deposited their own private and personal +offerings on the top. I forget their precise +nature; anyhow, they were nothing of any particular +practical use to a boy. But they had +involved some contrivance and labour, some +skimping of pocket money, and much delightful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +cloud-building as to the effect on their enraptured +recipient. Well, yesterday there had come a +terse acknowledgment from Edward, heartily +commending the cakes and the jam, stamping +the sausages with the seal of Smith major's +approval, and finally hinting that, fortified as +he now was, nothing more was necessary but +a remittance of five shillings in postage stamps +to enable him to face the world armed against +every buffet of fate. That was all. Never a +word or a hint of the personal tributes or of his +appreciation of them. To us—to Harold and +me, that is—the letter seemed natural and sensible +enough. After all, provender was the +main thing, and five shillings stood for a complete +equipment against the most unexpected +turns of luck. The presents were very well in +their way—very nice, and so on—but life was +a serious matter, and the contest called for cakes +and half-crowns to carry it on, not gew-gaws +and knitted mittens and the like. The girls, however, +in their obstinate way, persisted in taking +their own view of the slight. Hence it was that +I received my second rebuff of the morning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + +<p>Somewhat disheartened, I made my way +downstairs and out into the sunlight, where I +found Harold playing conspirators by himself on +the gravel. He had dug a small hole in the +walk and had laid an imaginary train of powder +thereto; and, as he sought refuge in the laurels +from the inevitable explosion, I heard him murmur: +"'My God!' said the Czar, 'my plans +are frustrated!'" It seemed an excellent occasion +for being a black puma. Harold liked +black pumas, on the whole, as well as any +animal we were familiar with. So I launched +myself on him, with the appropriate howl, rolling +him over on the gravel.</p> + +<p>Life may be said to be composed of things +that come off and things that don't come off. +This thing, unfortunately, was one of the things +that didn't come off. From beneath me I heard +a shrill cry of, "Oh, it's my sore knee!" And +Harold wriggled himself free from the puma's +clutches, bellowing dismally. Now, I honestly +didn't know he had a sore knee, and, what's +more, he knew I didn't know he had a sore +knee. According to boy-ethics, therefore, his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +attitude was wrong, sore knee or not, and no +apology was due from me. I made half-way +advances, however, suggesting we should lie in +ambush by the edge of the pond and cut off the +ducks as they waddled down in simple, unsuspecting +single file; then hunt them as bisons +flying scattered over the vast prairie. A fascinating +pursuit this, and strictly illicit. But +Harold would none of my overtures, and retreated +to the house wailing with full lungs.</p> + +<p>Things were getting simply infernal. I struck +out blindly for the open country; and even as +I made for the gate a shrill voice from a window +bade me keep off the flower-beds. When the +gate had swung to behind me with a vicious +click I felt better, and after ten minutes along +the road it began to grow on me that some radical +change was needed, that I was in a blind +alley, and that this intolerable state of things +must somehow cease. All that I could do I +had already done. As well-meaning a fellow +as ever stepped was pounding along the road +that day, with an exceeding sore heart; one +who only wished to live and let live, in touch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +with his fellows, and appreciating what joys life +had to offer. What was wanted now was a +complete change of environment. Somewhere +in the world, I felt sure, justice and sympathy +still resided. There were places called pampas, +for instance, that sounded well. League upon +league of grass, with just an occasional wild +horse, and not a relation within the horizon! +To a bruised spirit this seemed a sane and a +healing sort of existence. There were other +pleasant corners, again, where you dived for +pearls and stabbed sharks in the stomach with +your big knife. No relations would be likely +to come interfering with you when thus blissfully +occupied. And yet I did not wish—just yet—to +have done with relations entirely. They +should be made to feel their position first, to +see themselves as they really were, and to wish—when +it was too late—that they had behaved +more properly.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Dies Irae illustration and caption"> +<tr><td align='left'><img src="images/ill03.jpg" width="372" height="500" alt="DIES IRÆ" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'>DIES IRÆ<br /> +<br /> +"<i>And, last of all, you—you, the General, the fabled hero—you would +enter, on your coal-black charger, your pale set face seamed by an +interesting sabre cut.</i>"</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p>Of all professions, the army seemed to lend +itself the most thoroughly to the scheme. You +enlisted, you followed the drum, you marched, +fought, and ported arms, under strange skies,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +through unrecorded years. At last, at long +last, your opportunity would come, when the +horrors of war were flickering through the quiet +country-side where you were cradled and bred, +but where the memory of you had long been dim. +Folk would run together, clamorous, palsied +with fear; and among the terror-stricken groups +would figure certain aunts. "What hope is +left us?" they would ask themselves, "save in +the clemency of the General, the mysterious, +invincible General, of whom men tell such +romantic tales?" And the army would march +in, and the guns would rattle and leap along the +village street, and, last of all, you—you, the +General, the fabled hero—you would enter, on +your coal-black charger, your pale set face +seamed by an interesting sabre-cut. And then—but +every boy has rehearsed this familiar +piece a score of times. You are magnanimous, +in fine—that goes without saying, you have +a coal-black horse, and a sabre-cut, and you +can afford to be very magnanimous. But all +the same you give them a good talking-to.</p> + +<p>This pleasant conceit simply ravished my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +soul for some twenty minutes, and then the old +sense of injury began to well up afresh, and to +call for new plasters and soothing syrups. This +time I took refuge in happy thoughts of the sea. +The sea was my real sphere, after all. On the +sea, in especial, you could combine distinction +with lawlessness, whereas the army seemed to +be always weighted by a certain plodding submission +to discipline. To be sure, by all +accounts, the life was at first a rough one. But +just then I wanted to suffer keenly; I wanted +to be a poor devil of a cabin boy, kicked, beaten, +and sworn at—for a time. Perhaps some hint, +some inkling of my sufferings might reach their +ears. In due course the sloop or felucca would +turn up—it always did—the rakish-looking +craft, black of hull, low in the water, and bristling +with guns; the jolly Roger flapping overhead, +and myself for sole commander. By and +by, as usually happened, an East Indiaman +would come sailing along full of relations—not +a necessary relation would be missing. And +the crew should walk the plank, and the captain +should dance from his own yard-arm, and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +I would take the passengers in hand—that +miserable group of well-known figures cowering +on the quarter-deck!—and then—and then the +same old performance: the air thick with magnanimity. +In all the repertory of heroes, none +is more truly magnanimous than your pirate +chief.</p> + +<p>When at last I brought myself back from the +future to the actual present, I found that these +delectable visions had helped me over a longer +stretch of road than I had imagined; and I +looked around and took my bearings. To the +right of me was a long low building of grey +stone, new, and yet not smugly so; new, and +yet possessing distinction, marked with a character +that did not depend on lichen or on crumbling +semi-effacement of moulding and mullion. +Strangers might have been puzzled to classify +it; to me, an explorer from earliest years, the +place was familiar enough. Most folk called it +"The Settlement"; others, with quite sufficient +conciseness for our neighbourhood, spoke +of "them there fellows up by Halliday's"; +others again, with a hint of derision, named<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +them the "monks." This last title I supposed +to be intended for satire, and knew to be fatuously +wrong. I was thoroughly acquainted with +monks—in books—and well knew the cut of +their long frocks, their shaven polls, and their +fascinating big dogs, with brandy-bottles round +their necks, incessantly hauling happy travellers +out of the snow. The only dog at the settlement +was an Irish terrier, and the good fellows +who owned him, and were owned by him, in +common, wore clothes of the most nondescript +order, and mostly cultivated side-whiskers. I +had wandered up there one day, searching (as +usual) for something I never found, and had +been taken in by them and treated as friend and +comrade. They had made me free of their ideal +little rooms, full of books and pictures, and clean +of the antimacassar taint; they had shown me +their chapel, high, hushed, and faintly scented, +beautiful with a strange new beauty born both +of what it had and what it had not—that too +familiar dowdiness of common places of worship. +They had also fed me in their dining-hall, +where a long table stood on trestles plain to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +view, and all the woodwork was natural, unpainted, +healthily scrubbed, and redolent of the +forest it came from. I brought away from that +visit, and kept by me for many days, a sense of +cleanness, of the freshness that pricks the senses—the +freshness of cool spring water; and the +large swept spaces of the rooms, the red tiles, +and the oaken settles, suggested a comfort that +had no connexion with padded upholstery.</p> + +<p>On this particular morning I was in much +too unsociable a mind for paying friendly calls. +Still, something in the aspect of the place harmonized +with my humor, and I worked my +way round to the back, where the ground, after +affording level enough for a kitchen-garden, +broke steeply away. Both the word Gothic +and the thing itself were still unknown to me; +yet doubtless the architecture of the place, consistent +throughout, accounted for its sense of +comradeship in my hour of disheartenment. As +I mused there, with the low, grey, purposeful-looking +building before me, and thought of my +pleasant friends within, and what good times +they always seemed to be having, and how they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +larked with the Irish terrier, whose footing was +one of a perfect equality, I thought of a certain +look in their faces, as if they had a common +purpose and a business, and were acting under +orders thoroughly recognised and understood. +I remembered, too, something that Martha had +told me, about these same fellows doing "a +power o' good," and other hints I had collected +vaguely, of renouncements, rules, self denials, +and the like. Thereupon, out of the depths of +my morbid soul swam up a new and fascinating +idea; and at once the career of arms seemed +over-acted and stale, and piracy, as a profession, +flat and unprofitable. This, then, or something +like it, should be my vocation and my revenge. +A severer line of business, perhaps, such as I +had read of; something that included black +bread and a hair-shirt. There should be vows, +too—irrevocable, blood-curdling vows; and an +iron grating. This iron grating was the most +necessary feature of all, for I intended that on +the other side of it my relations should range +themselves—I mentally ran over the catalogue, +and saw that the whole gang was present, all in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +their proper places—a sad-eyed row, combined +in tristful appeal. "We see our error now," +they would say; "we were always dull dogs, +slow to catch—especially in those akin to us—the +finer qualities of soul! We misunderstood +you, misappreciated you, and we own up to it. +And now—" "Alas, my dear friends," I +would strike in here, waving towards them an +ascetic hand—one of the emaciated sort, that +lets the light shine through at the finger-tips—"Alas, +you come too late! This conduct is +fitting and meritorious on your part, and indeed +I always expected it of you, sooner or later; +but the die is cast, and you may go home again +and bewail at your leisure this too tardy repentance +of yours. For me, I am vowed and dedicated, +and my relations henceforth are austerity +and holy works. Once a month, should you +wish it, it shall be your privilege to come and +gaze at me through this very solid grating; +but—" <i>Whack!</i></p> + +<p>A well aimed clod of garden soil, whizzing +just past my ear, starred on a tree-trunk behind, +spattering me with dirt. The present came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +back to me in a flash, and I nimbly took cover +behind the trees, realising that the enemy was +up and abroad, with ambuscades, alarms, and +thrilling sallies. It was the gardener's boy, I +knew well enough; a red proletariat, who hated +me just because I was a gentleman. Hastily +picking up a nice sticky clod in one hand, with +the other I delicately projected my hat beyond +the shelter of the tree-trunk. I had not fought +with Red-skins all these years for nothing.</p> + +<p>As I had expected, another clod, of the first +class for size and stickiness, took my poor hat +full in the centre. Then, Ajax-like, shouting +terribly, I issued from shelter and discharged +my ammunition. Woe then for the gardener's +boy, who, unprepared, skipping in premature +triumph, took the clod full in his stomach! He, +the foolish one, witless on whose side the gods +were fighting that day, discharged yet other +missiles, wavering and wide of the mark; for +his wind had been taken with the first clod, and +he shot wildly, as one already desperate and in +flight. I got another clod in at short range; +we clinched on the brow of the hill, and rolled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +down to the bottom together. When he had +shaken himself free and regained his legs, he +trotted smartly off in the direction of his mother's +cottage; but over his shoulder he discharged at +me both imprecation and deprecation, menace +mixed up with an under-current of tears.</p> + +<p>But as for me, I made off smartly for the +road, my frame tingling, my head high, with +never a backward look at the Settlement of +suggestive aspect, or at my well-planned future +which lay in fragments around it. Life had its +jollities, then; life was action, contest, victory! +The present was rosy once more, surprises lurked +on every side, and I was beginning to feel villainously +hungry.</p> + +<p>Just as I gained the road a cart came rattling +by, and I rushed for it, caught the chain that +hung below, and swung thrillingly between the +dizzy wheels, choked and blinded with delicious-smelling +dust, the world slipping by me like a +streaky ribbon below, till the driver licked at +me with his whip, and I had to descend to earth +again. Abandoning the beaten track, I then +struck homewards through the fields; not that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +the way was very much shorter, but rather because +on that route one avoided the bridge, and +had to splash through the stream and get refreshingly +wet. Bridges were made for narrow folk, +for people with aims and vocations which compelled +abandonment of many of life's highest +pleasures. Truly wise men called on each element +alike to minister to their joy, and while the +touch of sun-bathed air, the fragrance of garden +soil, the ductible qualities of mud, and the +spark-whirling rapture of playing with fire, had +each their special charm, they did not overlook +the bliss of getting their feet wet. As I came +forth on the common Harold broke out of an +adjoining copse and ran to meet me, the morning +rain-clouds all blown away from his face. +He had made a new squirrel-stick, it seemed. +Made it all himself; melted the lead and everything! +I examined the instrument critically, +and pronounced it absolutely magnificent. As +we passed in at our gate the girls were distantly +visible, gardening with a zeal in cheerful contrast +to their heartsick lassitude of the morning. +"There's bin another letter come to-day,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +Harold explained, "and the hamper got joggled +about on the journey, and the presents worked +down into the straw and all over the place. One +of 'em turned up inside the cold duck. And +that's why they weren't found at first. And +Edward said, Thanks <i>awfully</i>!"</p> + +<p>I did not see Martha again until we were all +re-assembled at tea-time, when she seemed red-eyed +and strangely silent, neither scolding nor +finding fault with anything. Instead, she was +very kind and thoughtful with jams and things, +feverishly pressing unwonted delicacies on us, +who wanted little pressing enough. Then suddenly, +when I was busiest, she disappeared; +and Charlotte whispered me presently that she +had heard her go to her room and lock herself in. +This struck me as a funny sort of proceeding.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec02.png" width="400" height="187" alt="Decoration: Two toy soldiers with a landscape between" title="" /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + +<h2>MUTABILE SEMPER</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>SHE stood on the other side of the garden +fence, and regarded me gravely as I came +down the road. Then she said, "Hi-o!" and +I responded, "Hullo!" and pulled up somewhat +nervously.</div> + +<p>To tell the truth, the encounter was not entirely +unexpected on my part. The previous +Sunday I had seen her in church, and after service +it had transpired who she was, this newcomer, +and what aunt she was staying with. +That morning a volunteer had been called for, +to take a note to the Parsonage, and rather to +my own surprise I had found myself stepping +forward with alacrity, while the others had become +suddenly absorbed in various pursuits, or +had sneaked unobtrusively out of view. Certainly +I had not yet formed any deliberate plan +of action; yet I suppose I recollected that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +road to the Parsonage led past her aunt's +garden.</p> + +<p>She began the conversation, while I hopped +backwards and forwards over the ditch, feigning +a careless ease.</p> + +<p>"Saw you in church on Sunday," she said, +"only you looked different then. All dressed +up, and your hair quite smooth, and brushed +up at the sides, and oh, so shiny! What do +they put on it to make it shine like that? Don't +you hate having your hair brushed?" she ran +on, without waiting for an answer. "How your +boots squeaked when you came down the aisle! +When mine squeak, I walk in all the puddles +till they stop. Think I'll get over the fence."</p> + +<p>This she proceeded to do in a business-like +way, while, with my hands deep in my pockets, +I regarded her movements with silent interest, +as those of some strange new animal.</p> + +<p>"I've been gardening," she explained, when +she had joined me, "but I didn't like it. +There's so many worms about to-day. I hate +worms. Wish they'd keep out of the way when +I'm digging."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I like worms when I'm digging," I +replied heartily, "seem to make things more +lively, don't they?"</p> + +<p>She reflected. "Shouldn't mind 'em so +much if they were warm and <i>dry</i>," she said, +"but—" here she shivered, and somehow I +liked her for it, though if it had been my own +flesh and blood hoots of derision would have +instantly assailed her.</p> + +<p>From worms we passed, naturally enough, +to frogs, and thence to pigs, aunts, gardeners, +rocking-horses, and other fellow-citizens of our +common kingdom. In five minutes we had each +other's confidences, and I seemed to have known +her for a lifetime. Somehow, on the subject of +one's self it was easier to be frank and communicative +with her than with one's female kin. It +must be, I supposed, because she was less +familiar with one's faulty, tattered past.</p> + +<p>"I was watching you as you came along the +road," she said presently, "and you had your +head down and your hands in your pockets, +and you weren't throwing stones at anything, +or whistling, or jumping over things; and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +thought perhaps you'd bin scolded, or got a +stomach-ache."</p> + +<p>"No," I answered shyly, "it wasn't that. +Fact is, I was—I often—but it's a secret."</p> + +<p>There I made an error in tactics. That enkindling +word set her dancing round me, half +beseeching, half imperious. "Oh, do tell it +me!" she cried. "You must! I'll never tell +anyone else at all, I vow and declare I won't!"</p> + +<p>Her small frame wriggled with emotion, and +with imploring eyes she jigged impatiently just +in front of me. Her hair was tumbled bewitchingly +on her shoulders, and even the loss of a +front tooth—a loss incidental to her age—seemed +but to add a piquancy to her face.</p> + +<p>"You won't care to hear about it," I said, +wavering. "Besides, I can't explain exactly. +I think I won't tell you." But all the time I +knew I should have to.</p> + +<p>"But I <i>do</i> care," she wailed plaintively. "I +didn't think you'd be so unkind!"</p> + +<p>This would never do. That little downward +tug at either corner of the mouth—I knew the +symptom only too well!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's like this," I began stammeringly. +"This bit of road here—up as far as that corner—you +know it's a horrid dull bit of road. +I'm always having to go up and down it, and I +know it so well, and I'm so sick of it. So +whenever I get to that corner, I just—well, I +go right off to another place!"</p> + +<p>"What sort of a place?" she asked, looking +round her gravely.</p> + +<p>"Of course it's just a place I imagine," I +went on hurriedly and rather shamefacedly: +"but it's an awfully nice place—the nicest +place you ever saw. And I always go off there +in church, or during joggraphy lessons."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure it's not nicer than my home," she +cried patriotically. "Oh, you ought to see my +home—it's lovely! We've got—"</p> + +<p>"Yes it is, ever so much nicer," I interrupted. +"I mean"—I went on apologetically—"of +course I know your home's beautiful and all +that. But this <i>must</i> be nicer, 'cos if you want +anything at all, you've only <i>got</i> to want it, and +you can have it!"</p> + +<p>"That sounds jolly," she murmured. "Tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +me more about it, please. Tell me how you +get there, first."</p> + +<p>"I—don't—quite—know—exactly," I replied. +"I just go. But generally it begins by—well, +you're going up a broad, clear river in +a sort of a boat. You're not rowing or anything—you're +just moving along. And there's +beautiful grass meadows on both sides, and the +river's very full, quite up to the level of the +grass. And you glide along by the edge. And +the people are haymaking there, and playing +games, and walking about; and they shout to +you, and you shout back to them, and they bring +you things to eat out of their baskets, and let +you drink out of their bottles; and some of 'em +are the nice people you read about in books. +And so at last you come to the Palace steps—great +broad marble steps, reaching right down +to the water. And there at the steps you find +every sort of boat you can imagine—schooners, +and punts, and row-boats, and little men-of-war. +And you have any sort of boating you want to—rowing, +or sailing, or shoving about in a +punt!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'd go sailing," she said decidedly, "and +I'd steer. No, <i>you'd</i> have to steer, and I'd +sit about on the deck. No, I wouldn't though; +I'd row—at least I'd make you row, and I'd +steer. And then we'd—Oh, no! I'll tell +you what we'd do! We'd just sit in a punt +and dabble!"</p> + +<p>"Of course we'll do just what you like," I +said hospitably; but already I was beginning +to feel my liberty of action somewhat curtailed +by this exigent visitor I had so rashly admitted +into my sanctum.</p> + +<p>"I don't think we'd boat at all," she finally +decided. "It's always so <i>wobbly</i>. Where do +you come to next?"</p> + +<p>"You go up the steps," I continued, "and in +at the door, and the very first place you come to +is the Chocolate-room!"</p> + +<p>She brightened up at this, and I heard her +murmur with gusto, "Chocolate-room!"</p> + +<p>"It's got every sort of chocolate you can +think of," I went on: "soft chocolate, with +sticky stuff inside, white and pink, what girls +like; and hard shiny chocolate, that cracks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +when you bite it, and takes such a nice long +time to suck!"</p> + +<p>"I like the soft stuff best," she said: "'cos +you can eat such a lot more of it!"</p> + +<p>This was to me a new aspect of the chocolate +question, and I regarded her with interest and +some respect. With us, chocolate was none +too common a thing, and, whenever we happened +to come by any, we resorted to the quaintest +devices in order to make it last out. Still, +legends had reached us of children who actually +had, from time to time, as much chocolate as +they could possibly eat; and here, apparently, +was one of them.</p> + +<p>"You can have all the creams," I said magnanimously, +"and I'll eat the hard sticks, 'cos +I like 'em best."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you mustn't!" she cried impetuously. +"You must eat the same as I do! It +isn't nice to want to eat different. I'll tell you +what—you must give <i>me</i> all the chocolate, and +then I'll give <i>you</i>—I'll give you what you +ought to have!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, all right," I said in a subdued sort of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +way. It seemed a little hard to be put under +a sentimental restriction like this in one's own +Chocolate-room.</p> + +<p>"In the next room you come to," I proceeded, +"there's fizzy drinks! There's a marble-slab +business all round the room, and little silver +taps; and you just turn the right tap, and have +any kind of fizzy drink you want."</p> + +<p>"What fizzy drinks are there?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>"Oh, all sorts," I answered hastily, hurrying +on. (She might restrict my eatables, but I'd +be hanged if I was going to have her meddle +with my drinks.) "Then you go down the +corridor, and at the back of the palace there's +a great big park—the finest park you ever saw. +And there's ponies to ride on, and carriages +and carts; and a little railway, all complete, +engine and guard's van and all; and you work +it yourself, and you can go first-class, or in +the van, or on the engine, just whichever you +choose."</p> + +<p>"I'd go on the engine," she murmured +dreamily. "No, I wouldn't, I'd—"</p> + +<p>"Then there's all the soldiers," I struck in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +Really the line had to be drawn somewhere, +and I could not have my railway system disorganised +and turned upside down by a mere girl. +"There's any quantity of 'em, fine big soldiers, +and they all belong to me. And a row of brass +cannons all along the terrace! And every now +and then I give the order, and they fire off all +the guns!"</p> + +<p>"No, they don't," she interrupted hastily. +"I won't have 'em fire off any guns! You +must tell 'em not to. I hate guns, and as soon +as they begin firing I shall run right away!"</p> + +<p>"But—but that's what they're <i>there</i> for," +I protested, aghast.</p> + +<p>"I don't care," she insisted. "They mustn't +do it. They can walk about behind me if they +like, and talk to me, and carry things. But +they mustn't fire off any guns."</p> + +<p>I was sadly conscious by this time that in this +brave palace of mine, wherein I was wont to +swagger daily, irresponsible and unquestioned, +I was rapidly becoming—so to speak—a mere +lodger. The idea of my fine big soldiers being +told off to "carry things"! I was not inclined<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +to tell her any more, though there still remained +plenty more to tell.</p> + +<p>"Any other boys there?" she asked presently, +in a casual sort of way.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," I unguardedly replied. "Nice +chaps, too. We'll have great—" Then I +recollected myself. "We'll play with them, +of course," I went on. "But you are going to +be <i>my</i> friend, aren't you? And you'll come in +<i>my</i> boat, and we'll travel in the guard's van +together, and I'll stop the soldiers firing off +their guns!"</p> + +<p>But she looked mischievously away, and—do +what I would—I could not get her to promise.</p> + +<p>Just then the striking of the village clock +awoke within me another clamorous timepiece, +reminding me of mid-day mutton a good half-mile +away, and of penalties and curtailments +attaching to a late appearance. We took a +hurried farewell of each other, and before we +parted I got from her an admission that she +might be gardening again that afternoon, if only +the worms would be less aggressive and give +her a chance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Remember," I said as I turned to go, "you +mustn't tell anybody about what I've been +telling you!"</p> + +<p>She appeared to hesitate, swinging one leg +to and fro while she regarded me sideways with +half-shut eyes.</p> + +<p>"It's a dead secret," I said artfully. "A +secret between us two, and nobody knows it +except ourselves!"</p> + +<p>Then she promised, nodding violently, big-eyed, +her mouth pursed up small. The delight +of revelation, and the bliss of possessing a secret, +run each other very close. But the latter generally +wins—for a time.</p> + +<p>I had passed the mutton stage and was weltering +in warm rice pudding, before I found leisure +to pause and take in things generally; and then +a glance in the direction of the window told me, +to my dismay, that it was raining hard. This +was annoying in every way, for, even if it cleared +up later, the worms—I knew well from experience—would +be offensively numerous and +frisky. Sulkily I said grace and accompanied +the others upstairs to the schoolroom; where I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +got out my paint-box and resolved to devote myself +seriously to Art, which of late I had much +neglected. Harold got hold of a sheet of paper +and a pencil, retired to a table in the corner, +squared his elbows, and protruded his tongue. +Literature had always been <i>his</i> form of artistic +expression.</p> + +<p>Selina had a fit of the fidgets, bred of the +unpromising weather, and, instead of settling +down to something on her own account, must +needs walk round and annoy us artists, intent +on embodying our conceptions of the ideal. She +had been looking over my shoulder some minutes +before I knew of it; or I would have had a +word or two to say upon the subject.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you call that thing a ship," she +remarked contemptuously. "Who ever heard +of a pink ship? Hoo-hoo!"</p> + +<p>I stifled my wrath, knowing that in order to +score properly it was necessary to keep a cool +head.</p> + +<p>"There is a pink ship," I observed with forced +calmness, "lying in the toy-shop window now. +You can go and look at it if you like. D'you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +suppose you know more about ships than the +fellows who make 'em?"</p> + +<p>Selina, baffled for the moment, returned to +the charge presently.</p> + +<p>"Those are funny things, too," she observed. +"S'pose they're meant to be trees. But they're +<i>blue</i>."</p> + +<p>"They <i>are</i> trees," I replied with severity; +"and they <i>are</i> blue. They've <i>got</i> to be blue, +'cos you stole my gamboge last week, so I can't +mix up any green."</p> + +<p>"<i>Didn't</i> steal your gamboge," declared +Selina, haughtily, edging away, however, in the +direction of Harold. "And I wouldn't tell lies, +either, if I was you, about a dirty little bit of +gamboge."</p> + +<p>I preserved a discreet silence. After all, I +knew <i>she</i> knew she stole my gamboge.</p> + +<p>The moment Harold became conscious of +Selina's stealthy approach, he dropped his pencil +and flung himself flat upon the table, protecting +thus his literary efforts from chilling +criticism by the interposed thickness of his +person. From somewhere in his interior proceeded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +a heart-rending compound of squeal and +whistle, as of escaping steam,—long-drawn, +ear-piercing, unvarying in note.</p> + +<p>"I only just want to see," protested Selina, +struggling to uproot his small body from the +scrawl it guarded. But Harold clung limpet-like +to the table edge, and his shrill protest continued +to deafen humanity and to threaten even +the serenities of Olympus. The time seemed +come for a demonstration in force. Personally +I cared little what soul-outpourings of Harold +were pirated by Selina—she was pretty sure +to get hold of them sooner or later—and indeed +I rather welcomed the diversion as favourable +to the undisturbed pursuit of Art. But the +clannishness of sex has its unwritten laws. +Boys, as such, are sufficiently put upon, maltreated, +trodden under, as it is. Should they +fail to hang together in perilous times, what +disasters, what ignominies, may not be looked +for? Possibly even an extinction of the tribe. +I dropped my paint brush and sailed shouting +into the fray.</p> + +<p>The result for a short space hung dubious.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +There is a period of life when the difference of +a year or two in age far outweighs the minor +advantage of sex. Then the gathers of Selina's +frock came away with a sound like the rattle of +distant musketry; and this calamity it was, +rather than mere brute compulsion, that quelled +her indomitable spirit.</p> + +<p>The female tongue is mightier than the sword, +as I soon had good reason to know, when Selina, +her riven garment held out at length, avenged +her discomfiture with the Greek-fire of personalities +and abuse. Every black incident in my +short, but not stainless, career—every error, +every folly, every penalty ignobly suffered—were +paraded before me as in a magic-lantern +show. The information, however, was not particularly +new to me, and the effect was staled +by previous rehearsals. Besides, a victory +remains a victory, whatever the moral character +of the triumphant general.</p> + +<p>Harold chuckled and crowed as he dropped +from the table, revealing the document over +which so many gathers had sighed their short +lives out. "<i>You</i> can read it if you like," he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +said to me gratefully. "It's only a Death-letter."</p> + +<p>It had never been possible to say what Harold's +particular amusement of the hour might turn out +to be. One thing only was certain, that it would +be something improbable, unguessable, not to +be foretold. Who, for instance, in search of +relaxation, would ever dream of choosing the +drawing-up of a testamentary disposition of +property? Yet this was the form taken by +Harold's latest craze; and in justice this much +had to be said for him, that in the christening +of his amusement he had gone right to the heart +of the matter. The words "will" and "testament" +have various meanings and uses; but +about the signification of "death-letter" there +can be no manner of doubt. I smoothed out +the crumpled paper and read. In actual form +it deviated considerably from that usually +adopted by family solicitors of standing, the +only resemblance, indeed, lying in the absence +of punctuation.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"my dear edward (it ran) when I die I leave all my +muny to you my walkin sticks wips my crop my sord and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +gun bricks forts and all things i have goodbye my dear +charlotte when i die I leave you my wach and cumpus +and pencel case my salors and camperdown my picteres +and evthing goodbye your loving brother armen my dear +Martha I love you very much i leave you my garden my +mice and rabets my plants in pots when I die please take +care of them my dear—" <i>Cætera desunt.</i></p></div> + +<p>"Why, you're not leaving <i>me</i> anything!" +exclaimed Selina, indignantly. "You're a +regular mean little boy, and I'll take back the +last birthday present I gave you!"</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Harold, repossessing +himself of the document. "I <i>was</i> going to +leave you something, but I sha'n't now, 'cos +you tried to read my death-letter before I was +dead!"</p> + +<p>"Then I'll write a death-letter myself," +retorted Selina, scenting an artistic vengeance: +"and I sha'n't leave you a single thing!" And +she went off in search of a pencil.</p> + +<p>The tempest within-doors had kept my attention +off the condition of things without. But +now a glance through the window told me that +the rain had entirely ceased, and that everything +was bathed instead in a radiant glow of sunlight,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +more golden than any gamboge of mine could +possibly depict. Leaving Selina and Harold to +settle their feud by a mutual disinheritance, I +slipped from the room and escaped into the open +air, eager to pick up the loose end of my new +friendship just where I had dropped it that +morning. In the glorious reaction of the sunshine +after the downpour, with its moist warm +smells, bespanglement of greenery, and inspiriting +touch of rain-washed air, the parks and +palaces of the imagination glowed with a livelier +iris, and their blurred beauties shone out again +with fresh blush and palpitation. As I sped +along to the tryst, again I accompanied my new +comrade along the corridors of my pet palace +into which I had so hastily introduced her; and +on reflection I began to see that it wouldn't +work properly. I had made a mistake, and +those were not the surroundings in which she +was most fitted to shine. However, it really +did not matter much; I had other palaces to +place at her disposal—plenty of 'em; and on a +further acquaintance with and knowledge of her +tastes, no doubt I could find something to suit her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a real Arabian one, for instance, +which I visited but rarely—only just when I +was in the fine Oriental mood for it; a wonder +of silk hangings, fountains of rosewater, pavilions, +and minarets. Hundreds of silent, well-trained +slaves thronged the stairs and alleys of +this establishment, ready to fetch and carry for +her all day, if she wished it; and my brave +soldiers would be spared the indignity. Also +there were processions through the bazaar at +odd moments—processions with camels, elephants, +and palanquins. Yes, she was more +suited for the East, this imperious young person; +and I determined that thither she should +be personally conducted as soon as ever might +be.</p> + +<p>I reached the fence and climbed up two bars +of it, and leaning over I looked this way and +that for my twin-souled partner of the morning. +It was not long before I caught sight of her, +only a short distance away. Her back was +towards me and—well, one can never foresee +exactly how one will find things—she was talking +to a Boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<p>Of course there are boys and boys, and Lord +knows I was never narrow. But this was the +parson's son from an adjoining village, a red-headed +boy and as common a little beast as ever +stepped. He cultivated ferrets—his only good +point; and it was evidently through the medium +of this art that he was basely supplanting me, +for her head was bent absorbedly over something +he carried in his hands. With some trepidation +I called out, "Hi!" But answer there was +none. Then again I called, "Hi!" but this +time with a sickening sense of failure and of +doom. She replied only by a complex gesture, +decisive in import if not easily described. A +petulant toss of the head, a jerk of the left +shoulder, and a backward kick of the left foot, +all delivered at once—that was all, and that +was enough. The red-headed boy never even +condescended to glance my way. Why, indeed, +should he? I dropped from the fence without +another effort, and took my way homewards +along the weary road.</p> + +<p>Little inclination was left to me, at first, for +any solitary visit to my accustomed palace, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +pleasures of which I had so recently tasted in +company; and yet after a minute or two I found +myself, from habit, sneaking off there much as +usual. Presently I became aware of a certain +solace and consolation in my newly-recovered +independence of action. Quit of all female +whims and fanciful restrictions, I rowed, sailed, +or punted, just as I pleased; in the Chocolate-room +I cracked and nibbled the hard sticks, +with a certain contempt for those who preferred +the soft, veneered article; and I mixed and +quaffed countless fizzy drinks without dread of +any prohibitionist. Finally, I swaggered into +the park, paraded all my soldiers on the terrace, +and, bidding them take the time from me, gave +the order to fire off all the guns.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec03.png" width="400" height="219" alt="Decoration: Man on a weather vane" title="" /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE MAGIC RING</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>GROWN-UP people really ought to be +more careful. Among themselves it may +seem but a small thing to give their word and +take back their word. For them there are so +many compensations. Life lies at their feet, a +party-coloured india-rubber ball; they may kick +it this way or kick it that, it turns up blue, +yellow, or green, but always coloured and +glistening. Thus one sees it happen almost +every day, and, with a jest and a laugh, the +thing is over, and the disappointed one turns to +fresh pleasure, lying ready to his hand. But +with those who are below them, whose little +globe is swayed by them, who rush to build +star-pointing alhambras on their most casual +word, they really ought to be more careful.</div> + +<p>In this case of the circus, for instance, it was +not as if we had led up to the subject. It was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +they who began it entirely—prompted thereto +by the local newspaper. "What, a circus!" +said they, in their irritating, casual way: "that +would be nice to take the children to. Wednesday +would be a good day. Suppose we go +on Wednesday. Oh, and pleats are being worn +again, with rows of deep braid," etc.</p> + +<p>What the others thought I know not; what +they said, if they said anything, I did not comprehend. +For me the house was bursting, walls +seemed to cramp and to stifle, the roof was +jumping and lifting. Escape was the imperative +thing—to escape into the open air, to shake off +bricks and mortar, and to wander in the unfrequented +places of the earth, the more properly +to take in the passion and the promise of the +giddy situation.</p> + +<p>Nature seemed prim and staid that day, and +the globe gave no hint that it was flying round +a circus ring of its own. Could they really be +true, I wondered, all those bewildering things +I had heard tell of circuses? Did long-tailed +ponies really walk on their hind-legs and fire +off pistols? Was it humanly possible for clowns<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +to perform one-half of the bewitching drolleries +recorded in history? And how, oh, how dare +I venture to believe that, from off the backs of +creamy Arab steeds, ladies of more than earthly +beauty discharged themselves through paper +hoops? No, it was not altogether possible, +there must have been some exaggeration. Still, +I would be content with very little, I would take +a low percentage—a very small proportion of +the circus myth would more than satisfy me. +But again, even supposing that history were, +once in a way, no liar, could it be that I myself +was really fated to look upon this thing in the +flesh and to live through it, to survive the rapture? +No, it was altogether too much. Something +was bound to happen, one of us would +develop measles, the world would blow up with +a loud explosion. I must not dare, I must not +presume, to entertain the smallest hope. I must +endeavour sternly to think of something else.</p> + +<p>Needless to say, I thought, I dreamed of +nothing else, day or night. Waking, I walked +arm-in-arm with a clown, and cracked a portentous +whip to the brave music of a band. Sleeping,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +I pursued—perched astride of a coal-black +horse—a princess all gauze and spangles, who +always managed to keep just one unattainable +length ahead. In the early morning Harold +and I, once fully awake, cross-examined each +other as to the possibilities of this or that circus +tradition, and exhausted the lore long ere the +first housemaid was stirring. In this state of +exaltation we slipped onward to what promised +to be a day of all white days—which brings me +right back to my text, that grown-up people +really ought to be more careful.</p> + +<p>I had known it could never really be; I had +said so to myself a dozen times. The vision +was too sweetly ethereal for embodiment. Yet +the pang of the disillusionment was none the less +keen and sickening, and the pain was as that +of a corporeal wound. It seemed strange and +foreboding, when we entered the breakfast-room, +not to find everybody cracking whips, jumping +over chairs, and whooping in ecstatic rehearsal +of the wild reality to come. The situation became +grim and pallid indeed, when I caught the +expressions "garden-party" and "my mauve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +tulle," and realised that they both referred to +that very afternoon. And every minute, as I +sat silent and listened, my heart sank lower and +lower, descending relentlessly like a clock-weight +into my boot soles.</p> + +<p>Throughout my agony I never dreamed of +resorting to a direct question, much less a reproach. +Even during the period of joyful +anticipation some fear of breaking the spell had +kept me from any bald circus talk in the presence +of them. But Harold, who was built in +quite another way, so soon as he discerned the +drift of their conversation and heard the knell +of all his hopes, filled the room with wail and +clamour of bereavement. The grinning welkin +rang with "Circus!" "Circus!" shook the +window-panes; the mocking walls re-echoed +"Circus!" Circus he would have, and the +whole circus, and nothing but the circus. No +compromise for him, no evasions, no fallacious, +unsecured promises to pay. He had drawn his +cheque on the Bank of Expectation, and it had +got to be cashed then and there; else he would +yell, and yell himself into a fit, and come out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +it and yell again. Yelling should be his profession, +his art, his mission, his career. He was +qualified, he was resolute, and he was in no +hurry to retire from the business.</p> + +<p>The noisy ones of the world, if they do not +always shout themselves into the imperial purple, +are sure at least of receiving attention. If they +cannot sell everything at their own price, one +thing—silence—must, at any cost, be purchased +of them. Harold accordingly had to be +consoled by the employment of every specious +fallacy and base-born trick known to those whose +doom it is to handle children. For me their +hollow cajolery had no interest, I could pluck +no consolation out of their bankrupt though +prodigal pledges. I only waited till that hateful, +well-known "Some other time, dear!" told +me that hope was finally dead. Then I left the +room without any remark. It made it worse—if +anything could—to hear that stale, worn-out +old phrase, still supposed by those dullards to +have some efficacy.</p> + +<p>To nature, as usual, I drifted by instinct, and +there, out of the track of humanity, under a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +friendly hedge-row had my black hour unseen. +The world was a globe no longer, space was no +more filled with whirling circuses of spheres. +That day the old beliefs rose up and asserted +themselves, and the earth was flat again—ditch-riddled, +stagnant, and deadly flat. The undeviating +roads crawled straight and white, elms +dressed themselves stiffly along inflexible hedges, +all nature, centrifugal no longer, sprawled flatly +in lines out to its farthest edge, and I felt just +like walking out to that terminus, and dropping +quietly off. Then, as I sat there, morosely +chewing bits of stick, the recollection came +back to me of certain fascinating advertisements +I had spelled out in the papers—advertisements +of great and happy men, owning big ships of +tonnage running into four figures, who yet craved, +to the extent of public supplication, for the sympathetic +co-operation of youths as apprentices. +I did not rightly know what apprentices might +be, nor whether I was yet big enough to be +styled a youth, but one thing seemed clear, +that, by some such means as this, whatever the +intervening hardships, I could eventually visit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +all the circuses of the world—the circuses of +merry France and gaudy Spain, of Holland and +Bohemia, of China and Peru. Here was a plan +worth thinking out in all its bearings; for something +had presently to be done to end this intolerable +state of things.</p> + +<p>Mid-day, and even feeding-time, passed by +gloomily enough, till a small disturbance occurred +which had the effect of releasing some of +the electricity with which the air was charged. +Harold, it should be explained, was of a very +different mental mould, and never brooded, +moped, nor ate his heart out over any disappointment. +One wild outburst—one dissolution +of a minute into his original elements of air and +water, of tears and outcry—so much insulted +nature claimed. Then he would pull himself +together, iron out his countenance with a smile, +and adjust himself to the new condition of +things.</p> + +<p>If the gods are ever grateful to man for anything, +it is when he is so good as to display a +short memory. The Olympians were never slow +to recognise this quality of Harold's, in which,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +indeed, their salvation lay, and on this occasion +their gratitude had taken the practical form of +a fine fat orange, tough-rinded as oranges of +those days were wont to be. This he had eviscerated +in the good old-fashioned manner, by +biting out a hole in the shoulder, inserting a +lump of sugar therein, and then working it +cannily till the whole soul and body of the +orange passed glorified through the sugar into +his being. Thereupon, filled full of orange-juice +and iniquity, he conceived a deadly snare. +Having deftly patted and squeezed the orange-skin +till it resumed its original shape, he filled +it up with water, inserted a fresh lump of sugar +in the orifice, and, issuing forth, blandly proffered +it to me as I sat moodily in the doorway dreaming +of strange wild circuses under tropic skies.</p> + +<p>Such a stale old dodge as this would hardly +have taken me in at ordinary moments. But +Harold had reckoned rightly upon the disturbing +effect of ill-humour, and had guessed, perhaps, +that I thirsted for comfort and consolation, and +would not criticise too closely the source from +which they came. Unthinkingly I grasped the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +golden fraud, which collapsed at my touch, and +squirted its contents into my eyes and over my +collar, till the nethermost parts of me were damp +with the water that had run down my neck. In +an instant I had Harold down, and, with all the +energy of which I was capable, devoted myself +to grinding his head into the gravel; while he, +realising that the closure was applied, and that +the time for discussion or argument was past, +sternly concentrated his powers on kicking me +in the stomach.</p> + +<p>Some people can never allow events to work +themselves out quietly. At this juncture one +of Them swooped down on the scene, pouring +shrill, misplaced abuse on both of us: on me +for ill-treating my younger brother, whereas it +was distinctly I who was the injured and the +deceived; on him for the high offence of assault +and battery on a clean collar—a collar which +I had myself deflowered and defaced, shortly +before, in sheer desperate ill-temper. Disgusted +and defiant we fled in different directions, rejoining +each other later in the kitchen-garden; and +as we strolled along together, our short feud<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +forgotten, Harold observed, gloomily: "I should +like to be a cave-man, like Uncle George was +tellin' us about: with a flint hatchet and no +clothes, and live in a cave and not know anybody!"</p> + +<p>"And if anyone came to see us we didn't +like," I joined in, catching on to the points of +the idea, "we'd hit him on the head with the +hatchet till he dropped down dead."</p> + +<p>"And then," said Harold, warming up, "we'd +drag him into the cave and <i>skin him</i>!"</p> + +<p>For a space we gloated silently over the fair +scene our imaginations had conjured up. It +was <i>blood</i> we felt the need of just then. We +wanted no luxuries, nothing dear-bought nor +far-fetched. Just plain blood, and nothing else, +and plenty of it.</p> + +<p>Blood, however, was not to be had. The +time was out of joint, and we had been born +too late. So we went off to the green-house, +crawled into the heating arrangement underneath, +and played at the dark and dirty and unrestricted +life of cave-men till we were heartily +sick of it. Then we emerged once more into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +historic times, and went off to the road to look +for something living and sentient to throw stones +at.</p> + +<p>Nature, so often a cheerful ally, sometimes +sulks and refuses to play. When in this mood +she passes the word to her underlings, and all +the little people of fur and feather take the hint +and slip home quietly by back streets. In vain +we scouted, lurked, crept, and ambuscaded. +Everything that usually scurried, hopped, or +fluttered—the small society of the undergrowth—seemed +to have engagements elsewhere. The +horrid thought that perhaps they had all gone +off to the circus occurred to us simultaneously, +and we humped ourselves up on the fence and +felt bad. Even the sound of approaching wheels +failed to stir any interest in us. When you are +bent on throwing stones at something, humanity +seems obtrusive and better away. Then suddenly +we both jumped off the fence together, +our faces clearing. For our educated ear had +told us that the approaching rattle could only +proceed from a dog-cart, and we felt sure it +must be the funny man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + +<p>We called him the funny man because he was +sad and serious, and said little, but gazed right +into our souls, and made us tell him just what +was on our minds at the time, and then came +out with some magnificently luminous suggestion +that cleared every cloud away. What was +more, he would then go off with us at once and +play the thing right out to its finish, earnestly +and devotedly, putting all other things aside. +So we called him the funny man, meaning only +that he was different from those others who +thought it incumbent on them to play the painful +mummer. The ideal as opposed to the real +man was what we meant, only we were not acquainted +with the phrase. Those others, with +their laboured jests and clumsy contortions, +doubtless flattered themselves that <i>they</i> were +funny men; we, who had to sit through and +applaud the painful performance, knew better.</p> + +<p>He pulled up to a walk as soon as he caught +sight of us, and the dog-cart crawled slowly +along till it stopped just opposite. Then he +leant his chin on his hand and regarded us long +and soulfully, yet said he never a word; while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +we jigged up and down in the dust, grinning +bashfully but with expectation. For you never +knew exactly what this man might say or do.</p> + +<p>"You look bored," he remarked presently; +"thoroughly bored. Or else—let me see; +you're not married, are you?"</p> + +<p>He asked this in such sad earnestness that +we hastened to assure him we were not married, +though we felt he ought to have known that +much; we had been intimate for some time.</p> + +<p>"Then it's only boredom," he said. "Just +satiety and world-weariness. Well, if you +assure me you aren't married you can climb +into this cart and I'll take you for a drive. I'm +bored, too. I want to do something dark and +dreadful and exciting."</p> + +<p>We clambered in, of course, yapping with +delight and treading all over his toes; and as +we set off, Harold demanded of him imperiously +whither he was going.</p> + +<p>"My wife," he replied, "has ordered me to +go and look up the curate and bring him home +to tea. Does that sound sufficiently exciting +for you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<p>Our faces fell. The curate of the hour was +not a success, from our point of view. He was +not a funny man, in any sense of the word.</p> + +<p>"—but I'm not going to," he added, cheerfully. +"Then I was to stop at some cottage +and ask—what was it? There was <i>nettle-rash</i> +mixed up in it, I'm sure. But never mind, +I've forgotten, and it doesn't matter. Look +here, we're three desperate young fellows who +stick at nothing. Suppose we go off to the +circus?"</p> + +<p>Of certain supreme moments it is not easy to +write. The varying shades and currents of +emotion may indeed be put into words by those +specially skilled that way; they often are, at +considerable length. But the sheer, crude article +itself—the strong, live thing that leaps up +inside you and swells and strangles you, the +dizziness of revulsion that takes the breath like +cold water—who shall depict this and live? +All I knew was that I would have died then +and there, cheerfully, for the funny man; that +I longed for red Indians to spring out from the +hedge on the dog-cart, just to show what I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +would do; and that, with all this, I could not +find the least little word to say to him.</p> + +<p>Harold was less taciturn. With shrill voice, +uplifted in solemn chant, he sang the great +spheral circus-song, and the undying glory of +the Ring. Of its timeless beginning he sang, +of its fashioning by cosmic forces, and of its +harmony with the stellar plan. Of horses he +sang, of their strength, their swiftness, and their +docility as to tricks. Of clowns again, of the +glory of knavery, and of the eternal type that +shall endure. Lastly he sang of Her—the +Woman of the Ring—flawless, complete, untrammelled +in each subtly curving limb; earth's +highest output, time's noblest expression. At +least, he doubtless sang all these things and +more—he certainly seemed to; though all that +was distinguishable was, "We're-goin'-to-the-circus!" +and then, once more, "We're-goin'-to-the-circus!"—the +sweet rhythmic phrase repeated again and again. +But indeed I cannot +be quite sure, for I heard confusedly, as in a +dream. Wings of fire sprang from the old +mare's shoulders. We whirled on our way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +through purple clouds, and earth and the rattle +of wheels were far away below.</p> + +<p>The dream and the dizziness were still in my +head when I found myself, scarce conscious of +intermediate steps, seated actually in the circus +at last, and took in the first sniff of that intoxicating +circus smell that will stay by me while +this clay endures. The place was beset by a +hum and a glitter and a mist; suspense brooded +large o'er the blank, mysterious arena. Strung +up to the highest pitch of expectation, we knew +not from what quarter, in what divine shape, the +first surprise would come.</p> + +<p>A thud of unseen hoofs first set us a-quiver; +then a crash of cymbals, a jangle of bells, a +hoarse applauding roar, and Coralie was in the +midst of us, whirling past 'twixt earth and sky, +now erect, flushed, radiant, now crouched to the +flowing mane; swung and tossed and moulded +by the maddening dance-music of the band. +The mighty whip of the count in the frock-coat +marked time with pistol-shots; his war-cry, +whooping clear above the music, fired the blood +with a passion for splendid deeds, as Coralie,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +laughing, exultant, crashed through the paper +hoops. We gripped the red cloth in front of +us, and our souls sped round and round with +Coralie, leaping with her, prone with her, swung +by mane or tail with her. It was not only the +ravishment of her delirious feats, nor her cream-coloured +horse of fairy breed, long-tailed, roe-footed, +an enchanted prince surely, if ever there +was one! It was her more than mortal beauty—displayed, +too, under conditions never vouchsafed +to us before—that held us spell-bound. +What princess had arms so dazzlingly white, or +went delicately clothed in such pink and spangles? +Hitherto we had known the outward woman as +but a drab thing, hour-glass shaped, nearly legless, +bunched here, constricted there, slow of +movement, and given to deprecating lusty action +of limb. Here was a revelation! From henceforth +our imaginations would have to be revised +and corrected up to date. In one of those swift +rushes the mind makes in high-strung moments, +I saw myself and Coralie, close enfolded, pacing +the world together, o'er hill and plain, through +storied cities, past rows of applauding relations,—I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +in my Sunday knickerbockers, she in her +pink and spangles.</p> + +<p>Summers sicken, flowers fail and die, all +beauty but rides round the ring and out at the +portal; even so Coralie passed in her turn, +poised sideways, panting, on her steed; lightly +swayed as a tulip-bloom, bowing on this side +and on that as she disappeared; and with her +went my heart and my soul, and all the light and +the glory and the entrancement of the scene.</p> + +<p>Harold woke up with a gasp. "Wasn't she +beautiful?" he said, in quite a subdued way for +him. I felt a momentary pang. We had been +friendly rivals before, in many an exploit; but +here was altogether a more serious affair. Was +this, then, to be the beginning of strife and coldness, +of civil war on the hearthstone and the +sundering of old ties? Then I recollected the +true position of things, and felt very sorry for +Harold; for it was inexorably written that he +would have to give way to me, since I was the +elder. Rules were not made for nothing, in +a sensibly constructed universe.</p> + +<p>There was little more to wait for, now Coralie<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +had gone; yet I lingered still, on the chance of +her appearing again. Next moment the clown +tripped up and fell flat, with magnificent artifice, +and at once fresh emotions began to stir. Love +had endured its little hour, and stern ambition +now asserted itself. Oh, to be a splendid fellow +like this, self-contained, ready of speech, agile +beyond conception, braving the forces of society, +his hand against everyone, yet always getting +the best of it! What freshness of humour, what +courtesy to dames, what triumphant ability to +discomfit rivals, frock-coated and moustached +though they might be! And what a grand, +self-confident straddle of the legs! Who could +desire a finer career than to go through life thus +gorgeously equipped! Success was his keynote, +adroitness his panoply, and the mellow +music of laughter his instant reward. Even +Coralie's image wavered and receded. I would +come back to her in the evening, of course; but +I would be a clown all the working hours of +the day.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="The Magic Ring illustration and caption"> +<tr><td align='left'><img src="images/ill04.jpg" width="371" height="500" alt="THE MAGIC RING" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'>THE MAGIC RING<br /> +<br /> +"<i>Oh, to be splendid fellow like this, self-contained, ready of speech, +agile beyond conception, braving the forces of society, his hand +against everyone, and yet always getting the best of it!</i>"</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>The short interval was ended: the band, with +long-drawn chords, sounded a prelude touched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +with significance; and the programme, in letters +overtopping their fellows, proclaimed Zephyrine, +the Bride of the Desert, in her unequalled bareback +equestrian interlude. So sated was I already +with beauty and with wit, that I hardly +dared hope for a fresh emotion. Yet her title +was tinged with romance, and Coralie's display +had aroused in me an interest in her sex which +even herself had failed to satisfy entirely.</p> + +<p>Brayed in by trumpets, Zephyrine swung +passionately into the arena. With a bound she +stood erect, one foot upon each of her supple, +plunging Arabs, and at once I knew that my +fate was sealed, my chapter closed, and the +Bride of the Desert was the one bride for me. +Black was her raiment, great silver stars shone +through it, caught in the dusky twilight of her +gauze; black as her own hair were the two +mighty steeds she bestrode. In a tempest they +thundered by, in a whirlwind, a <i>scirocco</i> of tan; +her cheeks bore the kiss of an Eastern sun, and +the sand-storms of her native desert were her +satellites. What was Coralie, with her pink +silk, her golden hair and slender limbs, beside<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +this magnificent, full-figured Cleopatra? In a +twinkling we were scouring the desert—she +and I and the two coal-black horses. Side by +side, keeping pace in our swinging gallop, we +distanced the ostrich, we outstrode the zebra; +and, as we went, it seemed the wilderness blossomed +like the rose.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>I know not rightly how we got home that +evening. On the road there were everywhere +strange presences, and the thud of phantom +hoofs encircled us. In my nose was the pungent +circus-smell; the crack of the whip and +the frank laugh of the clown were in my ears. +The funny man thoughtfully abstained from +conversation, and left our illusion quite alone, +sparing us all jarring criticism and analysis; +and he gave me no chance, when he deposited +us at our gate, to get rid of the clumsy expressions +of gratitude I had been laboriously framing. +For the rest of the evening, distraught +and silent, I only heard the march-music of the +band, playing on in some corner of my brain. +When at last my head touched the pillow, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +a trice I was with Zephyrine, riding the boundless +Sahara, cheek to cheek, the world well +lost; while at times, through the sand-clouds +that encircled us, glimmered the eyes of Coralie, +touched, one fancied, with something of a tender +reproach.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec04.png" width="400" height="219" alt="Decoration: Two clowns holding a hoop" title="" /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> + +<h2>ITS WALLS WERE AS OF JASPER</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IN the long winter evenings, when we had the +picture-books out on the floor, and sprawled +together over them with elbows deep in the +hearth-rug, the first business to be gone through +was the process of allotment. All the characters +in the pictures had to be assigned and dealt +out among us, according to seniority, as far as +they would go. When once that had been satisfactorily +completed, the story was allowed to +proceed; and thereafter, in addition to the excitement +of the plot, one always possessed a +personal interest in some particular member of +the cast, whose successes or rebuffs one took +as so much private gain or loss.</div> + +<p>For Edward this was satisfactory enough. +Claiming his right of the eldest, he would annex +the hero in the very frontispiece, and for the +rest of the story his career, if chequered at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +intervals, was sure of heroic episodes and a +glorious close. But his juniors, who had to +put up with characters of a clay more mixed—nay, +sometimes with undiluted villany—were +hard put to it on occasion to defend their other +selves (as it was strict etiquette to do) from +ignominy perhaps only too justly merited.</p> + +<p>Edward was indeed a hopeless grabber. In +the "Buffalo-book," for instance (so named +from the subject of its principal picture, though +indeed it dealt with varied slaughter in every +zone), Edward was the stalwart, bearded figure, +with yellow leggings and a powder-horn, who +undauntedly discharged the fatal bullet into the +shoulder of the great bull bison, charging home +to within a yard of his muzzle. To me was +allotted the subsidiary character of the friend +who had succeeded in bringing down a cow; +while Harold had to be content to hold Edward's +spare rifle in the background, with evident signs +of uneasiness. Farther on, again, where the +magnificent chamois sprang rigid into mid-air, +Edward, crouched dizzily against the precipice-face, +was the sportsman from whose weapon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +a puff of white smoke was floating away. A +bare-kneed guide was all that fell to my share, +while poor Harold had to take the boy with the +haversack, or abandon, for this occasion at least, +all Alpine ambitions.</p> + +<p>Of course the girls fared badly in this book, +and it was not surprising that they preferred +the "Pilgrim's Progress" (for instance), where +women had a fair show, and there was generally +enough of 'em to go round; or a good fairy +story, wherein princesses met with a healthy +appreciation. But indeed we were all best +pleased with a picture wherein the characters +just fitted us, in number, sex, and qualifications; +and this, to us, stood for artistic merit.</p> + +<p>All the Christmas numbers, in their gilt frames +on the nursery-wall, had been gone through and +allotted long ago; and in these, sooner or later, +each one of us got a chance to figure in some +satisfactory and brightly coloured situation. +Few of the other pictures about the house +afforded equal facilities. They were generally +wanting in figures, and even when these were +present they lacked dramatic interest. In this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +picture that I have to speak about, although the +characters had a stupid way of not doing anything, +and apparently not wanting to do anything, +there was at least a sufficiency of them; +so in due course they were allotted, too.</p> + +<p>In itself the picture, which—in its ebony and +tortoise-shell frame—hung in a corner of the +dining-room, had hitherto possessed no special +interest for us, and would probably never have +been dealt with at all but for a revolt of the +girls against a succession of books on sport, in +which the illustrator seemed to have forgotten +that there were such things as women in the +world. Selina accordingly made for it one +rainy morning, and announced that she was the +lady seated in the centre, whose gown of rich, +flowered brocade fell in such straight, severe +lines to her feet, whose cloak of dark blue was +held by a jewelled clasp, and whose long, fair +hair was crowned with a diadem of gold and +pearl. Well, we had no objection to that; it +seemed fair enough, especially to Edward, who +promptly proceeded to "grab" the armour-man +who stood leaning on his shield at the lady's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +right hand. A dainty and delicate armour-man +this! And I confess, though I knew it was all +right and fair and orderly, I felt a slight pang +when he passed out of my reach into Edward's +possession. His armour was just the sort I +wanted myself—scalloped and fluted and shimmering +and spotless; and, though he was but +a boy by his beardless face and golden hair, the +shattered spear-shaft in his grasp proclaimed +him a genuine fighter and fresh from some such +agreeable work. Yes, I grudged Edward the +armour-man, and when he said I could have the +fellow on the other side, I hung back and said +I'd think about it.</p> + +<p>This fellow had no armour nor weapons, but +wore a plain jerkin with a leather pouch—a +mere civilian—and with one hand he pointed to +a wound in his thigh. I didn't care about him, +and when Harold eagerly put in his claim I +gave way and let him have the man. The cause +of Harold's anxiety only came out later. It +was the wound he coveted, it seemed. He +wanted to have a big, sore wound of his very +own, and go about and show it to people, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +excite their envy or win their respect. Charlotte +was only too pleased to take the child-angel +seated at the lady's feet, grappling with a musical +instrument much too big for her. Charlotte +wanted wings badly, and, next to those, a guitar +or a banjo. The angel, besides, wore an amber +necklace, which took her fancy immensely.</p> + +<p>This left the picture allotted, with the exception +of two or three more angels, who peeped or +perched behind the main figures with a certain +subdued drollery in their faces, as if the thing +had gone on long enough, and it was now time +to upset something or kick up a row of some +sort. We knew these good folk to be saints +and angels, because we had been told they +were; otherwise we should never have guessed +it. Angels, as we knew them in our Sunday +books, were vapid, colourless, uninteresting +characters, with straight up-and-down sort of +figures, white nightgowns, white wings, and the +same straight yellow hair parted in the middle. +They were serious, even melancholy; and we +had no desire to have any traffic with them. +These bright bejewelled little persons, however,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +piquant of face and radiant of feather, were evidently +hatched from quite a different egg, and +we felt we might have interests in common with +them. Short-nosed, shock-headed, with mouths +that went up at the corners and with an evident +disregard for all their fine clothes, they would +be the best of good company, we felt sure, if +only we could manage to get at them. One +doubt alone disturbed my mind. In games +requiring agility, those wings of theirs would +give them a tremendous pull. Could they be +trusted to play fair? I asked Selina, who replied +scornfully that angels <i>always</i> played fair. +But I went back and had another look at the +brown-faced one peeping over the back of the +lady's chair, and still I had my doubts.</p> + +<p>When Edward went off to school a great deal +of adjustment and re-allotment took place, and +all the heroes of illustrated literature were at +my call, did I choose to possess them. In this +particular case, however, I made no haste to +seize upon the armour-man. Perhaps it was +because I wanted a <i>fresh</i> saint of my own, not +a stale saint that Edward had been for so long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +a time. Perhaps it was rather that, ever since +I had elected to be saintless, I had got into the +habit of strolling off into the background, and +amusing myself with what I found there.</p> + +<p>A very fascinating background it was, and +held a great deal, though so tiny. Meadowland +came first, set with flowers, blue and red, +like gems. Then a white road ran, with wilful, +uncalled-for loops, up a steep, conical hill, +crowned with towers, bastioned walls, and belfries; +and down the road the little knights came +riding, two and two. The hill on one side descended +to water, tranquil, far-reaching, and +blue; and a very curly ship lay at anchor, with +one mast having an odd sort of crow's-nest at +the top of it.</p> + +<p>There was plenty to do in this pleasant land. +The annoying thing about it was, one could +never penetrate beyond a certain point. I might +wander up that road as often as I liked, I was +bound to be brought up at the gateway, the +funny galleried, top-heavy gateway, of the little +walled town. Inside, doubtless, there were high +jinks going on; but the password was denied to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +me. I could get on board a boat and row up +as far as the curly ship, but around the headland +I might not go. On the other side, of a +surety, the shipping lay thick. The merchants +walked on the quay, and the sailors sang as they +swung out the corded bales. But as for me, I +must stay down in the meadow, and imagine it +all as best I could.</p> + +<p>Once I broached the subject to Charlotte, +and found, to my surprise, that she had had the +same joys and encountered the same disappointments +in this delectable country. She, too, +had walked up that road and flattened her nose +against that portcullis; and she pointed out +something that I had overlooked—to wit, that +if you rowed off in a boat to the curly ship, and +got hold of a rope, and clambered aboard of her, +and swarmed up the mast, and got into the +crow's-nest, you could just see over the headland, +and take in at your ease the life and bustle +of the port. She proceeded to describe all the +fun that was going on there, at such length and +with so much particularity that I looked at her +suspiciously. "Why, you talk as if you'd been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +in that crow's-nest yourself!" I said. Charlotte +answered nothing, but pursed her mouth +up and nodded violently for some minutes; and +I could get nothing more out of her. I felt +rather hurt. Evidently she had managed, somehow +or other, to get up into that crow's-nest. +Charlotte had got ahead of me on this occasion.</p> + +<p>It was necessary, no doubt, that grown-up +people should dress themselves up and go forth +to pay calls. I don't mean that we saw any +sense in the practice. It would have been so +much more reasonable to stay at home in your +old clothes and play. But we recognised that +these folk had to do many unaccountable things, +and after all it was <i>their</i> life, and not ours, and +we were not in a position to criticise. Besides, +they had many habits more objectionable than +this one, which to us generally meant a free and +untrammelled afternoon, wherein to play the +devil in our own way. The case was different, +however, when the press-gang was abroad, when +prayers and excuses were alike disregarded, and +we were forced into the service, like native levies +impelled toward the foe less by the inherent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +righteousness of the cause than by the indisputable +rifles of their white allies. This was +unpardonable and altogether detestable. Still, +the thing happened, now and again; and when +it did, there was no arguing about it. The +order was for the front, and we just had to shut +up and march.</p> + +<p>Selina, to be sure, had a sneaking fondness +for dressing up and paying calls, though she +pretended to dislike it, just to keep on the soft +side of public opinion. So I thought it extremely +mean in her to have the earache on that particular +afternoon when Aunt Eliza ordered the pony-carriage +and went on the war-path. I was +ordered also, in the same breath as the pony-carriage; +and, as we eventually trundled off, +it seemed to me that the utter waste of that +afternoon, for which I had planned so much, +could never be made up nor atoned for in all +the tremendous stretch of years that still lay +before me.</p> + +<p>The house that we were bound for on this +occasion was a "big house;" a generic title +applied by us to the class of residence that had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +a long carriage-drive through rhododendrons; +and a portico propped by fluted pillars; and +a grave butler who bolted back swing-doors, +and came down steps, and pretended to have +entirely forgotten his familiar intercourse with +you at less serious moments; and a big hall, +where no boots or shoes or upper garments were +allowed to lie about frankly and easily, as with us; +and where, finally, people were apt to sit about +dressed up as if they were going on to a party.</p> + +<p>The lady who received us was effusive to +Aunt Eliza and hollowly gracious to me. In +ten seconds they had their heads together and +were hard at it talking <i>clothes</i>. I was left high +and dry on a straight-backed chair, longing to +kick the legs of it, yet not daring. For a time +I was content to stare; there was lots to stare +at, high and low and around. Then the inevitable +fidgets came on, and scratching one's legs +mitigated slightly, but did not entirely disperse +them. My two warders were still deep in +clothes; I slipped off my chair and edged +cautiously around the room, exploring, examining, +recording.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> + +<p>Many strange, fine things lay along my route—pictures +and gimcracks on the walls, trinkets +and globular old watches and snuff-boxes on the +tables; and I took good care to finger everything +within reach thoroughly and conscientiously. +Some articles, in addition, I smelt. +At last in my orbit I happened on an open door, +half concealed by the folds of a curtain. I +glanced carefully around. They were still deep +in clothes, both talking together, and I slipped +through.</p> + +<p>This was altogether a more sensible sort of +room that I had got into; for the walls were +honestly upholstered with books, though these +for the most part glimmered provokingly through +the glass doors of their tall cases. I read their +titles longingly, breathing on every accessible +pane of glass, for I dared not attempt to open +the doors, with the enemy encamped so near. +In the window, though, on a high sort of desk, +there lay, all by itself, a most promising-looking +book, gorgeously bound. I raised the leaves +by one corner, and like scent from a pot-pourri +jar there floated out a brief vision of blues and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +reds, telling of pictures, and pictures all highly +coloured! Here was the right sort of thing at +last, and my afternoon would not be entirely +wasted. I inclined an ear to the door by which +I had entered. Like the brimming tide of a +full-fed river the grand, eternal, inexhaustible +clothes-problem bubbled and eddied and surged +along. It seemed safe enough. I slid the book +off its desk with some difficulty, for it was very +fine and large, and staggered with it to the +hearthrug—the only fit and proper place for +books of quality, such as this.</p> + +<p>They were excellent hearthrugs in that house; +soft and wide, with the thickest of pile, and one's +knees sank into them most comfortably. When +I got the book open there was a difficulty at +first in making the great stiff pages lie down. +Most fortunately the coal-scuttle was actually +at my elbow, and it was easy to find a flat bit +of coal to lay on the refractory page. Really, +it was just as if everything had been arranged +for me. This was not such a bad sort of house +after all.</p> + +<p>The beginnings of the thing were gay borders—scrolls<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +and strap-work and diapered backgrounds, +a maze of colour, with small misshapen +figures clambering cheerily up and down everywhere. +But first I eagerly scanned what text +there was in the middle, in order to get a hint +of what it was all about. Of course I was not +going to waste any time in reading. A clue, +a sign-board, a finger-post was all I required. +To my dismay and disgust it was all in a stupid +foreign language! Really, the perversity of some +people made one at times almost despair of the +whole race. However, the pictures remained; +pictures never lied, never shuffled nor evaded; +and as for the story, I could invent it myself.</p> + +<p>Over the page I went, shifting the bit of coal +to a new position; and, as the scheme of the +picture disengaged itself from out the medley +of colour that met my delighted eyes, first there +was a warm sense of familiarity, then a dawning +recognition, and then—O then! along with +blissful certainty came the imperious need to +clasp my stomach with both hands, in order to +repress the shout of rapture that struggled to escape—it +was my own little city!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> + +<p>I knew it well enough, I recognised it at once, +though I had never been quite so near it before. +Here was the familiar gateway, to the left that +strange, slender tower with its grim, square +head shot far above the walls; to the right, +outside the town, the hill—as of old—broke +steeply down to the sea. But to-day everything +was bigger and fresher and clearer, the walls +seemed newly hewn, gay carpets were hung out +over them, fair ladies and long-haired children +peeped and crowded on the battlements. Better +still, the portcullis was up—I could even catch +a glimpse of the sunlit square within—and a +dainty company was trooping through the gate +on horseback, two and two. Their horses, in +trappings that swept the ground, were gay as +themselves; and <i>they</i> were the gayest crew, for +dress and bearing, I had ever yet beheld. It +could mean nothing else but a wedding, I thought, +this holiday attire, this festal and solemn entry; +and, wedding or whatever it was, I meant to be +there. This time I would not be balked by any +grim portcullis; this time I would slip in with +the rest of the crowd, find out just what my little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +town was like, within those exasperating walls +that had so long confronted me, and, moreover, +have my share of the fun that was evidently +going on inside. Confident, yet breathless with +expectation, I turned the page.</p> + +<p>Joy! At last I was in it, at last I was on +the right side of those provoking walls; and, +needless to say, I looked about me with much +curiosity. A public place, clearly, though not +such as I was used to. The houses at the back +stood on a sort of colonnade, beneath which the +people jostled and crowded. The upper stories +were all painted with wonderful pictures. Above +the straight line of the roofs the deep blue of a +cloudless sky stretched from side to side. Lords +and ladies thronged the foreground, while on a +dais in the centre a gallant gentleman, just +alighted off his horse, stooped to the fingers of +a girl as bravely dressed out as Selina's lady +between the saints; and round about stood venerable +personages, robed in the most variegated +clothing. There were boys, too, in plenty, with +tiny red caps on their thick hair; and their shirts +had bunched up and worked out at the waist,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +just as my own did so often, after chasing anybody; +and each boy of them wore an odd pair +of stockings, one blue and the other red. This +system of attire went straight to my heart. I +had tried the same thing so often, and had met +with so much discouragement; and here, at last, +was my justification, painted deliberately in a +grown-up book! I looked about for my saint-friends—the +armour-man and the other fellow—but +they were not to be seen. Evidently +they were unable to get off duty, even for a +wedding, and still stood on guard in that green +meadow down below. I was disappointed, too, +that not an angel was visible. One or two of +them, surely, could easily have been spared for +an hour, to run up and see the show; and they +would have been thoroughly at home here, in +the midst of all the colour and the movement +and the fun.</p> + +<p>But it was time to get on, for clearly the +interest was only just beginning. Over went +the next page, and there we were, the whole +crowd of us, assembled in a noble church. It +was not easy to make out exactly what was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +going on; but in the throng I was delighted to +recognise my angels at last, happy and very +much at home. They had managed to get +leave off, evidently, and must have run up the +hill and scampered breathlessly through the +gate; and perhaps they cried a little when they +found the square empty, and thought the fun +must be all over. Two of them had got hold +of a great wax candle apiece, as much as they +could stagger under, and were tittering sideways +at each other as the grease ran bountifully over +their clothes. A third had strolled in among +the company, and was chatting to a young gentleman, +with whom she appeared to be on the +best of terms. Decidedly, this was the right +breed of angel for us. None of your sick-bed +or night-nursery business for them!</p> + +<p>Well, no doubt they were now being married, +He and She, just as always happened. And +then, of course, they were going to live happily +ever after; and <i>that</i> was the part I wanted to +get to. Story-books were so stupid, always +stopping at the point where they became really +nice; but this picture-story was only in its first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +chapters, and at last I was to have a chance of +knowing <i>how</i> people lived happily ever after. +We would all go home together, He and She, +and the angels, and I; and the armour-man +would be invited to come and stay. And then +the story would really begin, at the point where +those other ones always left off. I turned the +page, and found myself free of the dim and splendid +church and once more in the open country.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="City and boy sitting on frame and caption"> +<tr><td align='center'>ITS WALLS WERE AS OF JASPER<br /> +<br /> +"<i>While every plunge of our bows brought us nearer to the happy +island.</i>"</td><td align='left'><img src="images/ill05.jpg" width="374" height="500" alt="ITS WALLS WERE AS OF JASPER" title="" /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<p>This was all right; this was just as it should +be. The sky was a fleckless blue, the flags +danced in the breeze, and our merry bridal +party, with jest and laughter, jogged down to +the water-side. I was through the town by this +time, and out on the other side of the hill, where +I had always wanted to be; and, sure enough, +there was the harbour, all thick with curly ships. +Most of them were piled high with wedding-presents—bales +of silk, and gold and silver +plate, and comfortable-looking bags suggesting +bullion; and the gayest ship of all lay close up +to the carpeted landing-stage. Already the +bride was stepping daintily down the gangway, +her ladies following primly, one by one; a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +minutes more and we should all be aboard, the +hawsers would splash in the water, the sails +would fill and strain. From the deck I should +see the little walled town recede and sink and +grow dim, while every plunge of our bows +brought us nearer to the happy island—it was +an island we were bound for, I knew well! +Already I could see the island-people waving +hands on the crowded quay, whence the little +houses ran up the hill to the castle, crowning all +with its towers and battlements. Once more +we should ride together, a merry procession, +clattering up the steep street and through the +grim gateway; and then we should have arrived, +then we should all dine together, then we should +have reached home! And then—</p> + +<p><i>Ow! Ow! Ow!</i></p> + +<p>Bitter it is to stumble out of an opalescent +dream into the cold daylight; cruel to lose in +a second a sea-voyage, an island, and a castle +that was to be practically your own; but cruellest +and bitterest of all to know, in addition to +your loss, that the fingers of an angry aunt have +you tight by the scruff of your neck. My beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +book was gone too—ravished from my +grasp by the dressy lady, who joined in the outburst +of denunciation as heartily as if she had +been a relative—and naught was left me but +to blubber dismally, awakened of a sudden to +the harshness of real things and the unnumbered +hostilities of the actual world. I cared little +for their reproaches, their abuse; but I sorrowed +heartily for my lost ship, my vanished island, my +uneaten dinner, and for the knowledge that, if +I wanted any angels to play with, I must henceforth +put up with the anæmic, night-gowned +nonentities that hovered over the bed of the +Sunday-school child in the pages of the <i>Sabbath +Improver</i>.</p> + +<p>I was led ignominiously out of the house, in a +pulpy, watery state, while the butler handled +his swing doors with a stony, impassive countenance, +intended for the deception of the very +elect, though it did not deceive me. I knew +well enough that next time he was off duty, and +strolled around our way, we should meet in our +kitchen as man to man, and I would punch him +and ask him riddles, and he would teach me tricks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +with corks and bits of string. So his unsympathetic +manner did not add to my depression.</p> + +<p>I maintained a diplomatic blubber long after +we had been packed into our pony-carriage and +the lodge-gate had clicked behind us, because +it served as a sort of armour-plating against +heckling and argument and abuse, and I was +thinking hard and wanted to be let alone. And +the thoughts that I was thinking were two.</p> + +<p>First I thought, "I've got ahead of Charlotte +<i>this</i> time!"</p> + +<p>And next I thought, "When I've grown up +big, and have money of my own, and a full-sized +walking-stick, I will set out early one morning, +and never stop till I get to that little walled +town." There ought to be no real difficulty in +the task. It only meant asking here and asking +there, and people were very obliging, and I +could describe every stick and stone of it.</p> + +<p>As for the island which I had never even +seen, that was not so easy. Yet I felt confident +that somehow, at some time, sooner or later, I +was destined to arrive.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> +<h2>A SAGA OF THE SEAS</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IT happened one day that some ladies came +to call, who were not at all the sort I was +used to. They suffered from a grievance, so far +as I could gather, and the burden of their plaint +was Man—Men in general and Man in particular. +(Though the words were but spoken, I +could clearly discern the capital M in their acid +utterance.)</div> + +<p>Of course I was not present officially, so to +speak. Down below, in my sub-world of chair-legs +and hearthrugs and the undersides of sofas, +I was working out my own floor-problems, while +they babbled on far above my head, considering +me as but a chair-leg, or even something lower +in the scale. Yet I was listening hard all the +time, with that respectful consideration one gives +to all grown-up people's remarks, so long as +one knows no better.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> + +<p>It seemed a serious indictment enough, as +they rolled it out. In tact, considerateness, +and right appreciation, as well as in taste and +æsthetic sensibilities—we failed at every point, +we breeched and bearded prentice-jobs of Nature; +and I began to feel like collapsing on the +carpet from sheer spiritual anæmia. But when +one of them, with a swing of her skirt, prostrated +a whole regiment of my brave tin soldiers, and +never apologised nor even offered her aid toward +revivifying the battle-line, I could not help feeling +that in tactfulness and consideration for +others she was still a little to seek. And I said +as much, with some directness of language.</p> + +<p>That was the end of me, from a society point +of view. Rudeness to visitors was the unpardonable +sin, and in two seconds I had my marching +orders, and was sullenly wending my way +to the St. Helena of the nursery. As I climbed +the stair, my thoughts reverted somehow to a +game we had been playing that very morning. +It was the good old game of Rafts,—a game +that will be played till all the oceans are dry +and all the trees in the world are felled—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +after. And we were all crowded together on +the precarious little platform, and Selina occupied +every bit as much room as I did, and +Charlotte's legs didn't dangle over any more +than Harold's. The pitiless sun overhead beat +on us all with tropic impartiality, and the hungry +sharks, whose fins scored the limitless Pacific +stretching out on every side, were impelled by +an appetite that made no exceptions as to sex. +When we shared the ultimate biscuit and circulated +the last water-keg, the girls got an absolute +fourth apiece, and neither more nor less; and +the only partiality shown was entirely in favour +of Charlotte, who was allowed to perceive and +to hail the saviour-sail on the horizon. And +this was only because it was her turn to do so, +not because she happened to be this or that. +Surely, the rules of the raft were the rules of +life, and in what, then, did these visitor-ladies' +grievance consist?</p> + +<p>Puzzled and a little sulky, I pushed open the +door of the deserted nursery, where the raft that +had rocked beneath so many hopes and fears +still occupied the ocean-floor. To the dull eye,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +that merely tarries upon the outsides of things, +it might have appeared unromantic and even +unraftlike, consisting only as it did of a round +sponge-bath on a bald deal towel-horse placed +flat on the floor. Even to myself much of the +recent raft-glamour seemed to have departed as +I half-mechanically stepped inside and curled +myself up in it for a solitary voyage. Once I +was in, however, the old magic and mystery +returned in full flood, when I discovered that +the inequalities of the towel-horse caused the +bath to rock, slightly, indeed, but easily and +incessantly. A few minutes of this delightful +motion, and one was fairly launched. So those +women below didn't want us? Well, there +were other women, and other places, that did. +And this was going to be no scrambling raft-affair, +but a full-blooded voyage of the Man, +equipped and purposeful, in search of what was +his rightful own.</p> + +<p>Whither should I shape my course, and what +sort of vessel should I charter for the voyage? +The shipping of all England was mine to pick +from, and the far corners of the globe were my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +rightful inheritance. A frigate, of course, seemed +the natural vehicle for a boy of spirit to set out +in. And yet there was something rather "uppish" +in commanding a frigate at the very first +set-off, and little spread was left for the ambition. +Frigates, too, could always be acquired +later by sheer adventure; and your real hero +generally saved up a square-rigged ship for the +final achievement and the rapt return. No, it +was a schooner that I was aboard of—a schooner +whose masts raked devilishly as the leaping seas +hissed along her low black gunwale. Many +hairbrained youths started out on a mere cutter; +but I was prudent, and besides I had some inkling +of the serious affairs that were ahead.</p> + +<p>I have said I was already on board; and, +indeed, on this occasion I was too hungry for +adventure to linger over what would have been +a special delight at a period of more leisure—the +dangling about the harbour, the choosing +your craft, selecting your shipmates, stowing +your cargo, and fitting up your private cabin +with everything you might want to put your +hand on in any emergency whatever. I could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +not wait for that. Out beyond soundings the +big seas were racing westward and calling me, +albatrosses hovered motionless, expectant of a +comrade, and a thousand islands held each of +them a fresh adventure, stored up, hidden away, +awaiting production, expressly saved for me. +We were humming, close-hauled, down the +Channel, spray in the eyes and the shrouds +thrilling musically, in much less time than the +average man would have taken to transfer his +Gladstone bag and his rugs from the train to a +sheltered place on the promenade-deck of the +tame daily steamer.</p> + +<p>So long as we were in pilotage I stuck manfully +to the wheel. The undertaking was mine, +and with it all its responsibilities, and there was +some tricky steering to be done as we sped by +headland and bay, ere we breasted the great +seas outside and the land fell away behind us. +But as soon as the Atlantic had opened out I +began to feel that it would be rather nice to +take tea by myself in my own cabin, and it +therefore became necessary to invent a comrade +or two, to take their turn at the wheel.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> + +<p>This was easy enough. A friend or two of +my own age, from among the boys I knew; a +friend or two from characters in the books I +knew; and a friend or two from No-man's-land, +where every fellow's a born sailor; and the +crew was complete. I addressed them on the +poop, divided them into watches, gave instructions +I should be summoned on the first sign of +pirates, whales, or Frenchmen, and retired below +to a well-earned spell of relaxation.</p> + +<p>That was the right sort of cabin that I stepped +into, shutting the door behind me with a click. +Of course, fire-arms were the first thing I looked +for, and there they were, sure enough, in their +racks, dozens of 'em—double-barrelled guns, +and repeating-rifles, and long pistols, and shiny +plated revolvers. I rang up the steward and +ordered tea, with scones, and jam in its native +pots—none of your finicking shallow glass +dishes; and, when properly streaked with jam, +and blown out with tea, I went through the +armoury, clicked the rifles and revolvers, tested +the edges of the cutlasses with my thumb, and +filled the cartridge-belts chock-full. Everything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +was there, and of the best quality, just as if I +had spent a whole fortnight knocking about +Plymouth and ordering things. Clearly, if this +cruise came to grief, it would not be for want +of equipment.</p> + +<p>Just as I was beginning on the lockers and +the drawers, the watch reported icebergs on +both bows—and, what was more to the point, +coveys of Polar bears on the icebergs. I grasped +a rifle or two, and hastened on deck. The +spectacle was indeed magnificent—it generally +is, with icebergs on both bows, and these were +exceptionally enormous icebergs. But I hadn't +come there to paint Academy pictures, so the +captain's gig was in the water and manned almost +ere the boatswain's whistle had ceased +sounding, and we were pulling hard for the +Polar bears—myself and the rifles in the +stern-sheets.</p> + +<p>I have rarely enjoyed better shooting than I +got during that afternoon's tramp over the icebergs. +Perhaps I was in specially good form; +perhaps the bears "rose" well. Anyhow, the +bag was a portentous one. In later days, on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +reading of the growing scarcity of Polar bears, +my conscience has pricked me; but that afternoon +I experienced no compunction. Nevertheless, +when the huge pile of skins had been +hoisted on board, and a stiff grog had been +served out to the crew of the captain's gig, I +ordered the schooner's head to be set due south. +For icebergs were played out, for the moment, +and it was getting to be time for something +more tropical.</p> + +<p>Tropical was a mild expression of what was +to come, as was shortly proved. It was about +three bells in the next day's forenoon watch +when the look-out man first sighted the pirate +brigantine. I disliked the looks of her from the +first, and, after piping all hands to quarters, had +the brass carronade on the fore-deck crammed +with grape to the muzzle.</p> + +<p>This proved a wise precaution. For the flagitious +pirate craft, having crept up to us under +the colours of the Swiss Republic, a state with +which we were just then on the best possible +terms, suddenly shook out the skull-and-cross-bones +at her mast-head, and let fly with roundshot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +at close quarters, knocking into pieces +several of my crew, who could ill be spared. +The sight of their disconnected limbs aroused +my ire to its utmost height, and I let them have +the contents of the brass carronade, with ghastly +effect. Next moment the hulls of the two ships +were grinding together, the cold steel flashed from +its scabbard, and the death-grapple had begun.</p> + +<p>In spite of the deadly work of my grape-gorged +carronade, our foe still outnumbered us, I reckoned, +by three to one. Honour forbade my fixing +it at a lower figure—this was the minimum +rate at which one dared to do business with +pirates. They were stark veterans, too, every +man seamed with ancient sabre-cuts, whereas +my crew had many of them hardly attained the +maturity which is the gift of ten long summers—and +the whole thing was so sudden that I had +no time to invent a reinforcement of riper years. +It was not surprising, therefore, that my dauntless +boarding-party, axe in hand and cutlass +between teeth, fought their way to the pirates' +deck only to be repulsed again and yet again, +and that our planks were soon slippery with our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +own ungrudged and inexhaustible blood. At +this critical point in the conflict, the bo'sun, +grasping me by the arm, drew my attention to +a magnificent British man-of-war, just hove to +in the offing, while the signalman, his glass at +his eye, reported that she was inquiring whether +we wanted any assistance or preferred to go +through with the little job ourselves.</p> + +<p>This veiled attempt to share our laurels with +us, courteously as it was worded, put me on my +mettle. Wiping the blood out of my eyes, I +ordered the signalman to reply instantly, with +the half-dozen or so of flags that he had at his +disposal, that much as we appreciated the valour +of the regular service, and the delicacy of spirit +that animated its commanders, still this was an +orthodox case of the young gentleman-adventurer +<i>versus</i> the unshaved pirate, and Her Majesty's +Marine had nothing to do but to form the usual +admiring and applauding background. Then, +rallying round me the remnant of my faithful +crew, I selected a fresh cutlass (I had worn out +three already) and plunged once more into the +pleasing carnage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> + +<p>The result was not long doubtful. Indeed, +I could not allow it to be, as I was already +getting somewhat bored with the pirate business, +and was wanting to get on to something more +southern and sensuous. All serious resistance +came to an end as soon as I had reached the +quarter-deck and cut down the pirate chief—a +fine black-bearded fellow in his way, but hardly +up to date in his parry-and-thrust business. +Those whom our cutlasses had spared were +marched out along their own plank, in the approved +old fashion; and in time the scuppers +relieved the decks of the blood that made traffic +temporarily impossible. And all the time the +British-man-of-war admired and applauded in +the offing.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Boy battling giant on ship and caption"> +<tr><td align='left'>A SAGA OF THE SEAS<br /> +<br /> +"<i>All serious resistance came to an end as soon as I had reached the +quarter-deck and cut down the pirate chief.</i>"</td><td align='left'><img src="images/ill06.jpg" width="357" height="500" alt="A SAGA OF THE SEAS" title="" /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>As soon as we had got through with the necessary +throat-cutting and swabbing-up all hands +set to work to discover treasure; and soon the +deck shone bravely with ingots and Mexican +dollars and church plate. There were ropes +of pearls, too, and big stacks of <i>nougat</i>; and +rubies, and gold watches, and Turkish Delight +in tubs. But I left these trifles to my crew,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +and continued the search alone. For by this +time I had determined that there should be a +Princess on board, carried off to be sold in captivity +to the bold bad Moors, and now with +beating heart awaiting her rescue by me, the +Perseus of her dreams.</p> + +<p>I came upon her at last in the big state-cabin +in the stern; and she wore a holland pinafore +over her Princess-clothes, and she had brown +wavy hair, hanging down her back, just like—well, +never mind, she had brown wavy hair. +When gentle-folk meet, courtesies pass; and +I will not weary other people with relating all +the compliments and counter-compliments that +we exchanged, all in the most approved manner. +Occasions like this, when tongues wagged +smoothly and speech flowed free, were always +especially pleasing to me, who am naturally inclined +to be tongue-tied with women. But at +last ceremony was over, and we sat on the table +and swung our legs and agreed to be fast friends. +And I showed her my latest knife—one-bladed, +horn-handled, terrific, hung round my neck with +string; and she showed me the chiefest treasures<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +the ship contained, hidden away in a most +private and particular locker—a musical box +with a glass top that let you see the works, and +a railway train with real lines and a real tunnel, +and a tin iron-clad that followed a magnet, and +was ever so much handier in many respects than +the real full-sized thing that still lay and applauded +in the offing.</p> + +<p>There was high feasting that night in my +cabin. We invited the captain of the man-of-war—one +could hardly do less, it seemed to +me—and the Princess took one end of the table +and I took the other, and the captain was very +kind and nice, and told us fairy-stories, and +asked us both to come and stay with him next +Christmas, and promised we should have some +hunting, on real ponies. When he left I gave +him some ingots and things, and saw him into +his boat; and then I went round the ship and +addressed the crew in several set speeches, +which moved them deeply, and with my own +hands loaded up the carronade with grape-shot +till it ran over at the mouth. This done, I +retired into the cabin with the Princess, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +locked the door. And first we started the +musical box, taking turns to wind it up; and +then we made toffee in the cabin-stove; and +then we ran the train round and round the room, +and through and through the tunnel; and lastly +we swam the tin ironclad in the bath, with the +soap-dish for a pirate.</p> + +<p>Next morning the air was rich with spices, +porpoises rolled and gambolled round the bows, +and the South Sea Islands lay full in view (they +were the <i>real</i> South Sea Islands, of course—not +the badly furnished journeymen-islands that +are to be perceived on the map). As for the +pirate brigantine and the man-of-war, I don't +really know what became of them. They had +played their part very well, for the time, but I +wasn't going to bother to account for them, so +I just let them evaporate quietly. The islands +provided plenty of fresh occupation. For here +were little bays of silvery sand, dotted with +land-crabs; groves of palm-trees wherein monkeys +frisked and pelted each other with cocoanuts; +and caves, and sites for stockades, and +hidden treasures significantly indicated by skulls,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +in riotous plenty; while birds and beasts of +every colour and all latitudes made pleasing +noises which excited the sporting instinct.</p> + +<p>The islands lay conveniently close together, +which necessitated careful steering as we threaded +the devious and intricate channels that separated +them. Of course no one else could be trusted +at the wheel, so it is not surprising that for +some time I quite forgot that there was such a +thing as a Princess on board. This is too much +the masculine way, whenever there's any real +business doing. However, I remembered her +as soon as the anchor was dropped, and I went +below and consoled her, and we had breakfast +together, and she was allowed to "pour out," +which quite made up for everything. When +breakfast was over we ordered out the captain's +gig, and rowed all about the islands, and paddled, +and explored, and hunted bisons and beetles and +butterflies, and found everything we wanted. +And I gave her pink shells and tortoises and +great milky pearls and little green lizards; and +she gave me guinea-pigs, and coral to make into +waistcoat-buttons, and tame sea-otters, and a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +real pirate's powder-horn. It was a prolific +day and a long-lasting one, and weary were +we with all our hunting and our getting and +our gathering, when at last we clambered into +the captain's gig and rowed back to a late +tea.</p> + +<p>The following day my conscience rose up and +accused me. This was not what I had come +out to do. These triflings with pearls and +parrakeets, these <i>al fresco</i> luncheons off yams +and bananas—there was no "making of history" +about them. I resolved that without +further dallying I would turn to and capture +the French frigate, according to the original +programme. So we upped anchor with the +morning tide, and set all sail for San Salvador.</p> + +<p>Of course I had no idea where San Salvador +really was. I haven't now, for that matter. +But it seemed a right-sounding sort of name for +a place that was to have a bay that was to hold +a French frigate that was to be cut out; so, as +I said, we sailed for San Salvador, and made +the bay about eight bells that evening, and saw +the topmasts of the frigate over the headland<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +that sheltered her. And forthwith there was +summoned a Council of War.</p> + +<p>It is a very serious matter, a Council of War. +We had not held one hitherto, pirates and truck +of that sort not calling for such solemn treatment. +But in an affair that might almost be +called international, it seemed well to proceed +gravely and by regular steps. So we met in +my cabin—the Princess, and the bo'sun, and +a boy from the real-life lot, and a man from +among the book-men, and a fellow from No-man's-land, +and myself in the chair.</p> + +<p>The bo'sun had taken part in so many cuttings-out +during his past career that practically he did +all the talking, and was the Council of War +himself. It was to be an affair of boats, he +explained. A boat's-crew would be told off to +cut the cables, and two boats'-crews to climb +stealthily on board and overpower the sleeping +Frenchmen, and two more boats'-crews to +haul the doomed vessel out of the bay. This +made rather a demand on my limited resources +as to crews; but I was prepared to stretch +a point in a case like this, and I speedily<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +brought my numbers up to the requisite +efficiency.</p> + +<p>The night was both moonless and starless—I +had arranged all that—when the boats pushed +off from the side of our vessel, and made their +way toward the ship that, unfortunately for itself, +had been singled out by Fate to carry me +home in triumph. I was in excellent spirits, +and, indeed, as I stepped over the side, a lawless +idea crossed my mind, of discovering another +Princess on board the frigate—a French one +this time; I had heard that that sort was rather +nice. But I abandoned the notion at once, recollecting +that the heroes of all history had always +been noted for their unswerving constancy.</p> + +<p>The French captain was snug in bed when +I clambered in through his cabin window and +held a naked cutlass to his throat. Naturally +he was surprised and considerably alarmed, till +I discharged one of my set speeches at him, +pointing out that my men already had his crew +under hatchways, that his vessel was even then +being towed out of harbour, and that, on his +accepting the situation with a good grace, his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +person and private property would be treated +with all the respect due to the representative of +a great nation for which I entertained feelings +of the profoundest admiration and regard and +all that sort of thing. It was a beautiful speech. +The Frenchman at once presented me with his +parole, in the usual way, and, in a reply of some +power and pathos, only begged that I would +retire a moment while he put on his trousers. +This I gracefully consented to do, and the +incident ended.</p> + +<p>Two of my boats were sunk by the fire from +the forts on the shore, and several brave fellows +were severely wounded in the hand-to-hand +struggle with the French crew for the possession +of the frigate. But the bo'sun's admirable +strategy, and my own reckless gallantry in +securing the French captain at the outset, had +the fortunate result of keeping down the death-rate. +It was all for the sake of the Princess +that I had arranged so comparatively tame a +victory. For myself, I rather liked a fair amount +of blood-letting, red-hot shot, and flying splinters. +But when you have girls about the place,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +they have got to be considered to a certain +extent.</p> + +<p>There was another supper-party that night, +in my cabin, as soon as we had got well out to +sea; and the French captain, who was the guest +of the evening, was in the greatest possible form. +We became sworn friends, and exchanged invitations +to come and stay at each other's homes, +and really it was quite difficult to induce him +to take his leave. But at last he and his crew +were bundled into their boats; and after I had +pressed some pirate bullion upon them—delicately, +of course, but in a pleasant manner that +admitted of no denial—the gallant fellows quite +broke down, and we parted, our bosoms heaving +with a full sense of each other's magnanimity +and good-fellowship.</p> + +<p>The next day, which was nearly all taken up +with shifting our quarters into the new frigate, +so honourably and easily acquired, was a very +pleasant one, as everyone who has gone up in +the world and moved into a larger house will +readily understand. At last I had grim, black +guns all along each side, instead of a rotten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +brass carronade; at last I had a square-rigged +ship, with real yards, and a proper quarter-deck. +In fact, now that I had soared as high as could +be hoped in a single voyage, it seemed about +time to go home and cut a dash and show off +a bit. The worst of this ocean-theatre was, it +held no proper audience. It was hard, of course, +to relinquish all the adventures that still lay untouched +in these Southern seas. Whaling, for +instance, had not yet been entered upon; the +joys of exploration, and strange inland cities +innocent of the white man, still awaited me; +and the book of wrecks and rescues was not yet +even opened. But I had achieved a frigate and +a Princess, and that was not so bad for a beginning, +and more than enough to show off with +before those dull unadventurous folk who continued +on their mill-horse round at home.</p> + +<p>The voyage home was a record one, so far as +mere speed was concerned, and all adventures +were scornfully left behind, as we rattled along, +for other adventurers who had still their laurels +to win. Hardly later than the noon of next day +we dropped anchor in Plymouth Sound, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +heard the intoxicating clamour of bells, the roar +of artillery, and the hoarse cheers of an excited +populace surging down to the quays, that told +us we were being appreciated at something like +our true merits. The Lord Mayor was waiting +there to receive us, and with him several Admirals +of the Fleet, as we walked down the lane of +pushing, enthusiastic Devonians, the Princess +and I, and our war-worn, weather-beaten, spoil-laden +crew. Everybody was very nice about +the French frigate, and the pirate booty, and +the scars still fresh on our young limbs; yet I +think what I liked best of all was, that they all +pronounced the Princess to be a duck, and a +peerless, brown-haired darling, and a true mate +for a hero, and of the right Princess-breed.</p> + +<p>The air was thick with invitations and with +the smell of civic banquets in a forward stage; +but I sternly waved all festivities aside. The +coaches-and-four I had ordered immediately on +arriving were blocking the whole of the High +Street; the champing of bits and the pawing +of gravel summoned us to take our seats and be +off, to where the real performance awaited us,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +compared with which all this was but an interlude. +I placed the Princess in the most highly +gilded coach of the lot, and mounted to my place +at her side; and the rest of the crew scrambled +on board of the others as best they might. The +whips cracked and the crowd scattered and +cheered as we broke into a gallop for home. +The noisy bells burst into a farewell peal—</p> + +<p>Yes, that was undoubtedly the usual bell for +school-room tea. And high time too, I thought, +as I tumbled out of the bath, which was beginning +to feel very hard to the projecting portions +of my frame-work. As I trotted downstairs, +hungrier even than usual, farewells floated up +from the front door, and I heard the departing +voices of our angular elderly visitors as they +made their way down the walk. Man was still +catching it, apparently—Man was getting it +hot. And much Man cared! The seas were +his, and their islands; he had his frigates for +the taking, his pirates and their hoards for an +unregarded cutlass-stroke or two; and there +were Princesses in plenty waiting for him somewhere—Princesses +of the right sort.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE RELUCTANT DRAGON</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>FOOTPRINTS in the snow have been unfailing +provokers of sentiment ever since +snow was first a white wonder in this drab-coloured +world of ours. In a poetry-book presented +to one of us by an aunt, there was a +poem by one Wordsworth, in which they stood +out strongly—with a picture all to themselves, +too—but we didn't think very highly either of +the poem or the sentiment. Footprints in the +sand, now, were quite another matter, and we +grasped Crusoe's attitude of mind much more +easily than Wordsworth's. Excitement and +mystery, curiosity and suspense—these were +the only sentiments that tracks, whether in sand +or in snow, were able to arouse in us.</div> + +<p>We had awakened early that winter morning, +puzzled at first by the added light that filled the +room. Then, when the truth at last fully dawned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +on us and we knew that snow-balling was no +longer a wistful dream, but a solid certainty +waiting for us outside, it was a mere brute fight +for the necessary clothes, and the lacing of boots +seemed a clumsy invention, and the buttoning of +coats an unduly tedious form of fastening, with +all that snow going to waste at our very door.</p> + +<p>When dinner-time came we had to be dragged +in by the scruff of our necks. The short armistice +over, the combat was resumed; but presently +Charlotte and I, a little weary of contests +and of missiles that ran shudderingly down inside +one's clothes, forsook the trampled battle-field +of the lawn and went exploring the blank virgin +spaces of the white world that lay beyond. It +stretched away unbroken on every side of us, +this mysterious soft garment under which our +familiar world had so suddenly hidden itself. +Faint imprints showed where a casual bird had +alighted, but of other traffic there was next to +no sign; which made these strange tracks all +the more puzzling.</p> + +<p>We came across them first at the corner of +the shrubbery, and pored over them long, our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +hands on our knees. Experienced trappers that +we knew ourselves to be, it was annoying to be +brought up suddenly by a beast we could not at +once identify.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know?" said Charlotte, rather +scornfully. "Thought you knew all the beasts +that ever was."</p> + +<p>This put me on my mettle, and I hastily rattled +off a string of animal names embracing both the +arctic and the tropic zones, but without much +real confidence.</p> + +<p>"No," said Charlotte, on consideration; +"they won't any of 'em quite do. Seems like +something <i>lizardy</i>. Did you say a iguanodon? +Might be that, p'raps. But that's not British, +and we want a real British beast. <i>I</i> think it's +a dragon!"</p> + +<p>"'Tisn't half big enough," I objected.</p> + +<p>"Well, all dragons must be small to begin +with," said Charlotte: "like everything else. +P'raps this is a little dragon who's got lost. A +little dragon would be rather nice to have. He +might scratch and spit, but he couldn't <i>do</i> anything +really. Let's track him down!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> + +<p>So we set off into the wide snow-clad world, +hand in hand, our hearts big with expectation,—complacently +confident that by a few smudgy +traces in the snow we were in a fair way to +capture a half-grown specimen of a fabulous +beast.</p> + +<p>We ran the monster across the paddock and +along the hedge of the next field, and then he +took to the road like any tame civilised tax-payer. +Here his tracks became blended with +and lost among more ordinary footprints, but +imagination and a fixed idea will do a great +deal, and we were sure we knew the direction +a dragon would naturally take. The traces, +too, kept reappearing at intervals—at least +Charlotte maintained they did, and as it was +<i>her</i> dragon I left the following of the slot to +her and trotted along peacefully, feeling that +it was an expedition anyhow and something was +sure to come out of it.</p> + +<p>Charlotte took me across another field or two, +and through a copse, and into a fresh road; and +I began to feel sure it was only her confounded +pride that made her go on pretending to see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +dragon-tracks instead of owning she was entirely +at fault, like a reasonable person. At last she +dragged me excitedly through a gap in a hedge +of an obviously private character; the waste, +open world of field and hedgerow disappeared, +and we found ourselves in a garden, well-kept, +secluded, most undragon-haunted in appearance. +Once inside, I knew where we were. This was +the garden of my friend the circus-man, though +I had never approached it before by a lawless +gap, from this unfamiliar side. And here was +the circus-man himself, placidly smoking a pipe +as he strolled up and down the walks. I stepped +up to him and asked him politely if he had lately +seen a Beast.</p> + +<p>"May I inquire," he said, with all civility, +"what particular sort of a Beast you may +happen to be looking for?"</p> + +<p>"It's a <i>lizardy</i> sort of Beast," I explained. +"Charlotte says it's a dragon, but she doesn't +really know much about beasts."</p> + +<p>The circus-man looked round about him slowly. +"I don't <i>think</i>," he said, "that I've seen a +dragon in these parts recently. But if I come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +across one I'll know it belongs to you, and I'll +have him taken round to you at once."</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," said Charlotte, +"but don't <i>trouble</i> about it, please, 'cos p'raps +it isn't a dragon, after all. Only I thought I +saw his little footprints in the snow, and we +followed 'em up, and they seemed to lead right +in here, but maybe it's all a mistake, and thank +you all the same."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no trouble at all," said the circus-man, +cheerfully. "I should be only too pleased. +But of course, as you say, it <i>may</i> be a mistake. +And it's getting dark, and he seems to have got +away for the present, whatever he is. You'd +better come in and have some tea. I'm quite +alone, and we'll make a roaring fire, and I've +got the biggest Book of Beasts you ever saw. +It's got every beast in the world, and all of 'em +coloured; and we'll try and find <i>your</i> beast +in it!"</p> + +<p>We were always ready for tea at any time, +and especially when combined with beasts. +There was marmalade, too, and apricot-jam, +brought in expressly for us; and afterwards<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +the beast-book was spread out, and, as the man +had truly said, it contained every sort of beast +that had ever been in the world.</p> + +<p>The striking of six o'clock set the more prudent +Charlotte nudging me, and we recalled +ourselves with an effort from Beastland, and +reluctantly stood up to go.</p> + +<p>"Here, I'm coming along with you," said +the circus-man. "I want another pipe, and a +walk'll do me good. You needn't talk to me +unless you like."</p> + +<p>Our spirits rose to their wonted level again. +The way had seemed so long, the outside world +so dark and eerie, after the bright warm room +and the highly-coloured beast-book. But a walk +with a real Man—why, that was a treat in itself! +We set off briskly, the Man in the middle. +I looked up at him and wondered whether I +should ever live to smoke a big pipe with that +careless sort of majesty! But Charlotte, whose +young mind was not set on tobacco as a possible +goal, made herself heard from the other side.</p> + +<p>"Now, then," she said, "tell us a story, +please, won't you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Man sighed heavily and looked about +him. "I knew it," he groaned. "I <i>knew</i> I +should have to tell a story. Oh, why did I +leave my pleasant fireside? Well, I <i>will</i> tell +you a story. Only let me think a minute."</p> + +<p>So he thought a minute, and then he told us +this story.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Long ago—might have been hundreds of +years ago—in a cottage half-way between this +village and yonder shoulder of the Downs up +there, a shepherd lived with his wife and their +little son. Now the shepherd spent his days—and +at certain times of the year his nights too—up +on the wide ocean-bosom of the Downs, with +only the sun and the stars and the sheep for +company, and the friendly chattering world of +men and women far out of sight and hearing. +But his little son, when he wasn't helping his +father, and often when he was as well, spent +much of his time buried in big volumes that he +borrowed from the affable gentry and interested +parsons of the country round about. And his +parents were very fond of him, and rather proud<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +of him too, though they didn't let on in his hearing, +so he was left to go his own way and read +as much as he liked; and instead of frequently +getting a cuff on the side of the head, as might +very well have happened to him, he was treated +more or less as an equal by his parents, who +sensibly thought it a very fair division of labour +that they should supply the practical knowledge, +and he the book-learning. They knew that +book-learning often came in useful at a pinch, +in spite of what their neighbours said. What +the Boy chiefly dabbled in was natural history +and fairy-tales, and he just took them as they +came, in a sandwichy sort of way, without +making any distinctions; and really his course +of reading strikes one as rather sensible.</p> + +<p>One evening the shepherd, who for some nights +past had been disturbed and preoccupied, and +off his usual mental balance, came home all of +a tremble, and, sitting down at the table where +his wife and son were peacefully employed, she +with her seam, he in following out the adventures +of the Giant with no Heart in his Body, +exclaimed with much agitation:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's all up with me, Maria! Never no +more can I go up on them there Downs, was it +ever so!"</p> + +<p>"Now don't you take on like that," said his +wife, who was a <i>very</i> sensible woman: "but +tell us all about it first, whatever it is as has +given you this shake-up, and then me and you +and the son here, between us, we ought to be +able to get to the bottom of it!"</p> + +<p>"It began some nights ago," said the shepherd. +"You know that cave up there—I never +liked it, somehow, and the sheep never liked it +neither, and when sheep don't like a thing there's +generally some reason for it. Well, for some +time past there's been faint noises coming from +that cave—noises like heavy sighings, with +grunts mixed up in them; and sometimes a +snoring, far away down—<i>real</i> snoring, yet +somehow not <i>honest</i> snoring, like you and me +o'nights, you know!"</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> know," remarked the Boy, quietly.</p> + +<p>"Of course I was terrible frightened," the +shepherd went on; "yet somehow I couldn't +keep away. So this very evening, before I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +come down, I took a cast round by the cave, +quietly. And there—O Lord! there I saw +him at last, as plain as I see you!"</p> + +<p>"Saw <i>who</i>?" said his wife, beginning to +share in her husband's nervous terror.</p> + +<p>"Why <i>him</i>, I'm a telling you!" said the +shepherd. "He was sticking half-way out of +the cave, and seemed to be enjoying of the cool +of the evening in a poetical sort of way. He +was as big as four cart-horses, and all covered +with shiny scales—deep-blue scales at the top +of him, shading off to a tender sort o' green +below. As he breathed, there was that sort +of flicker over his nostrils that you see over our +chalk roads on a baking windless day in summer. +He had his chin on his paws, and I should say +he was meditating about things. Oh, yes, a +peaceable sort o' beast enough, and not ramping +or carrying on or doing anything but what +was quite right and proper. I admit all that. +And yet, what am I to do? <i>Scales</i>, you know, +and claws, and a tail for certain, though I didn't +see that end of him—I ain't <i>used</i> to 'em, and +I don't <i>hold</i> with 'em, and that's a fact!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Boy, who had apparently been absorbed +in his book during his father's recital, now closed +the volume, yawned, clasped his hands behind +his head, and said sleepily:</p> + +<p>"It's all right, father. Don't you worry. +It's only a dragon."</p> + +<p>"Only a dragon?" cried his father. "What +do you mean, sitting there, you and your dragons? +<i>Only</i> a dragon indeed! And what do <i>you</i> know +about it?"</p> + +<p>"'Cos it <i>is</i>, and 'cos I <i>do</i> know," replied the +Boy, quietly. "Look here, father, you know +we've each of us got our line. <i>You</i> know about +sheep, and weather, and things; <i>I</i> know about +dragons. I always said, you know, that that +cave up there was a dragon-cave. I always +said it must have belonged to a dragon some +time, and ought to belong to a dragon now, if +rules count for anything. Well, now you tell +me it <i>has</i> got a dragon, and so <i>that's</i> all right. +I'm not half as much surprised as when you +told me it <i>hadn't</i> got a dragon. Rules always +come right if you wait quietly. Now, please, +just leave this all to me. And I'll stroll up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +to-morrow morning—no, in the morning I can't, +I've got a whole heap of things to do—well, +perhaps in the evening, if I'm quite free, I'll +go up and have a talk to him, and you'll find +it'll be all right. Only, please, don't you go +worrying round there without me. You don't +understand 'em a bit, and they're very sensitive, +you know!"</p> + +<p>"He's quite right, father," said the sensible +mother. "As he says, dragons is his line and +not ours. He's wonderful knowing about bookbeasts, +as every one allows. And to tell the +truth, I'm not half happy in my own mind, +thinking of that poor animal lying alone up +there, without a bit o' hot supper or anyone to +change the news with; and maybe we'll be +able to do something for him; and if he ain't +quite respectable our Boy'll find it out quick +enough. He's got a pleasant sort o' way with +him that makes everybody tell him everything."</p> + +<p>Next day, after he'd had his tea, the Boy +strolled up the chalky track that led to the +summit of the Downs; and there, sure enough, +he found the dragon, stretched lazily on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +sward in front of his cave. The view from that +point was a magnificent one. To the right and +left, the bare and willowy leagues of Downs; +in front, the vale, with its clustered homesteads, +its threads of white roads running through orchards +and well-tilled acreage, and, far away, +a hint of grey old cities on the horizon. A cool +breeze played over the surface of the grass and +the silver shoulder of a large moon was showing +above distant junipers. No wonder the dragon +seemed in a peaceful and contented mood; indeed, +as the Boy approached he could hear the +beast purring with a happy regularity. "Well, +we live and learn!" he said to himself. "None +of my books ever told me that dragons purred!"</p> + +<p>"Hullo, dragon!" said the Boy, quietly, when +he had got up to him.</p> + +<p>The dragon, on hearing the approaching footsteps, +made the beginning of a courteous effort +to rise. But when he saw it was a Boy, he set +his eyebrows severely.</p> + +<p>"Now don't you hit me," he said; "or bung +stones, or squirt water, or anything. I won't +have it, I tell you!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not goin' to hit you," said the Boy, wearily, +dropping on the grass beside the beast: "and +don't, for goodness' sake, keep on saying 'Don't;' +I hear so much of it, and it's monotonous, and +makes me tired. I've simply looked in to ask +you how you were and all that sort of thing; +but if I'm in the way I can easily clear out. +I've lots of friends, and no one can say I'm in +the habit of shoving myself in where I'm not +wanted!"</p> + +<p>"No, no, don't go off in a huff," said the +dragon, hastily; "fact is,—I'm as happy up +here as the day's long; never without an occupation, +dear fellow, never without an occupation! +And yet, between ourselves, it <i>is</i> a trifle dull at +times."</p> + +<p>The Boy bit off a stalk of grass and chewed +it. "Going to make a long stay here?" he +asked, politely.</p> + +<p>"Can't hardly say at present," replied the +dragon. "It seems a nice place enough—but +I've only been here a short time, and one must +look about and reflect and consider before settling +down. It's rather a serious thing, settling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +down. Besides—now I'm going to tell you +something! You'd never guess it if you tried +ever so!—fact is, I'm such a confoundedly +lazy beggar!"</p> + +<p>"You surprise me," said the Boy, civilly.</p> + +<p>"It's the sad truth," the dragon went on, +settling down between his paws and evidently +delighted to have found a listener at last: "and +I fancy that's really how I came to be here. +You see all the other fellows were so active and +<i>earnest</i> and all that sort of thing—always rampaging, +and skirmishing, and scouring the desert +sands, and pacing the margin of the sea, and +chasing knights all over the place, and devouring +damsels, and going on generally—whereas +I liked to get my meals regular and then to prop +my back against a bit of rock and snooze a bit, +and wake up and think of things going on and +how they kept going on just the same, you +know! So when it happened I got fairly +caught."</p> + +<p>"When <i>what</i> happened, please?" asked the +Boy.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Dragon, boy and caption"> +<tr><td align='left'><img src="images/ill07.jpg" width="361" height="500" alt="THE RELUCTANT DRAGON" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'>THE RELUCTANT DRAGON<br /><br />"'<i>What's your mind always occupied about?' asked the Boy. +'That's what I want to know.</i>'"</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>"That's just what I don't precisely know,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +said the dragon. "I suppose the earth sneezed, +or shook itself, or the bottom dropped out of +something. Anyhow there was a shake and a +roar and a general stramash, and I found myself +miles away underground and wedged in as tight +as tight. Well, thank goodness, my wants are +few, and at any rate I had peace and quietness +and wasn't always being asked to come along +and <i>do</i> something. And I've got such an active +mind—always occupied, I assure you! But time +went on, and there was a certain sameness about +the life, and at last I began to think it would +be fun to work my way upstairs and see what +you other fellows were doing. So I scratched +and burrowed, and worked this way and that +way and at last I came out through this cave +here. And I like the country, and the view, +and the people—what I've seen of 'em—and +on the whole I feel inclined to settle down here."</p> + +<p>"What's your mind always occupied about?" +asked the Boy. "That's what I want to +know."</p> + +<p>The dragon coloured slightly and looked +away. Presently he said bashfully:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you ever—just for fun—try to make +up poetry—verses, you know?"</p> + +<p>"'Course I have," said the Boy. "Heaps +of it. And some of it's quite good, I feel sure, +only there's no one here cares about it. Mother's +very kind and all that, when I read it to her, and +so's father for that matter. But somehow they +don't seem to—"</p> + +<p>"Exactly," cried the dragon; "my own +case exactly. They don't seem to, and you +can't argue with 'em about it. Now you've +got culture, you have, I could tell it on you at +once, and I should just like your candid opinion +about some little things I threw off lightly, when +I was down there. I'm awfully pleased to have +met you, and I'm hoping the other neighbours +will be equally agreeable. There was a very +nice old gentleman up here only last night, but +he didn't seem to want to intrude."</p> + +<p>"That was my father," said the Boy, "and +he <i>is</i> a nice old gentleman, and I'll introduce +you some day if you like."</p> + +<p>"Can't you two come up here and dine +or something to-morrow?" asked the dragon,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +eagerly. "Only, of course, if you've got nothing +better to do," he added politely.</p> + +<p>"Thanks awfully," said the Boy, "but we +don't go out anywhere without my mother, and, +to tell you the truth, I'm afraid she mightn't +quite approve of you. You see there's no getting +over the hard fact that you're a dragon, is +there? And when you talk of settling down, +and the neighbours, and so on, I can't help +feeling that you don't quite realise your position. +You're an enemy of the human race, you see!"</p> + +<p>"Haven't got an enemy in the world," said +the dragon, cheerfully. "Too lazy to make +'em, to begin with. And if I <i>do</i> read other +fellows my poetry, I'm always ready to listen +to theirs!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" cried the Boy, "I wish you'd +try and grasp the situation properly. When the +other people find you out, they'll come after +you with spears and swords and all sorts of +things. You'll have to be exterminated, according +to their way of looking at it! You're +a scourge, and a pest, and a baneful monster!"</p> + +<p>"Not a word of truth in it," said the dragon,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +wagging his head solemnly. "Character'll bear +the strictest investigation. And now, there's a +little sonnet-thing I was working on when you +appeared on the scene—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you <i>won't</i> be sensible," cried the +Boy, getting up, "I'm going off home. No, +I can't stop for sonnets; my mother's sitting +up. I'll look you up to-morrow, sometime or +other, and do for goodness' sake try and realise +that you're a pestilential scourge, or you'll find +yourself in a most awful fix. Good-night!"</p> + +<p>The Boy found it an easy matter to set the +mind of his parents at ease about his new friend. +They had always left that branch to him, and +they took his word without a murmur. The +shepherd was formally introduced and many +compliments and kind inquiries were exchanged. +His wife, however, though expressing her willingness +to do anything she could,—to mend +things, or set the cave to rights, or cook a little +something when the dragon had been poring +over sonnets and forgotten his meals, as male +things <i>will</i> do,—could not be brought to recognise +him formally. The fact that he was a dragon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +and "they didn't know who he was" seemed +to count for everything with her. She made no +objection, however, to her little son spending his +evenings with the dragon quietly, so long as he +was home by nine o'clock: and many a pleasant +night they had, sitting on the sward, while the +dragon told stories of old, old times, when dragons +were quite plentiful and the world was a livelier +place than it is now, and life was full of thrills +and jumps and surprises.</p> + +<p>What the Boy had feared, however, soon +came to pass. The most modest and retiring +dragon in the world, if he's as big as four cart-horses +and covered with blue scales, cannot +keep altogether out of the public view. And +so in the village tavern of nights the fact that +a real live dragon sat brooding in the cave on +the Downs was naturally a subject for talk. +Though the villagers were extremely frightened, +they were rather proud as well. It was a distinction +to have a dragon of your own, and it +was felt to be a feather in the cap of the village. +Still, all were agreed that this sort of thing +couldn't be allowed to go on. The dreadful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +beast must be exterminated, the country-side +must be freed from this pest, this terror, this +destroying scourge. The fact that not even a +hen-roost was the worse for the dragon's arrival +wasn't allowed to have anything to do with +it. He was a dragon, and he couldn't deny it, +and if he didn't choose to behave as such that +was his own lookout. But in spite of much +valiant talk no hero was found willing to take +sword and spear and free the suffering village +and win deathless fame; and each night's heated +discussion always ended in nothing. Meanwhile +the dragon, a happy Bohemian, lolled on the +turf, enjoyed the sunsets, told antediluvian anecdotes +to the Boy, and polished his old verses +while meditating on fresh ones.</p> + +<p>One day the Boy, on walking in to the village, +found everything wearing a festal appearance +which was not to be accounted for in the calendar. +Carpets and gay-colored stuffs were hung +out of the windows, the church-bells clamoured +noisily, the little street was flower-strewn, and +the whole population jostled each other along +either side of it, chattering, shoving, and ordering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +each other to stand back. The Boy saw a +friend of his own age in the crowd and hailed +him.</p> + +<p>"What's up?" he cried. "Is it the players, +or bears, or a circus, or what?"</p> + +<p>"It's all right," his friend hailed back. +"He's a-coming."</p> + +<p>"<i>Who's</i> a-coming?" demanded the Boy, +thrusting into the throng.</p> + +<p>"Why, St. George, of course," replied his +friend. "He's heard tell of our dragon, and +he's comin' on purpose to slay the deadly beast, +and free us from his horrid yoke. O my! won't +there be a jolly fight!"</p> + +<p>Here was news indeed! The Boy felt that +he ought to make quite sure for himself, and he +wriggled himself in between the legs of his good-natured +elders, abusing them all the time for +their unmannerly habit of shoving. Once in the +front rank, he breathlessly awaited the arrival.</p> + +<p>Presently from the far-away end of the line +came the sound of cheering. Next, the measured +tramp of a great war-horse made his heart beat +quicker, and then he found himself cheering with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +the rest, as, amidst welcoming shouts, shrill cries +of women, uplifting of babies and waving of +handkerchiefs, St. George paced slowly up the +street. The Boy's heart stood still and he +breathed with sobs, the beauty and the grace +of the hero were so far beyond anything he had +yet seen. His fluted armour was inlaid with +gold, his plumed helmet hung at his saddle-bow, +and his thick fair hair framed a face gracious +and gentle beyond expression till you caught +the sternness in his eyes. He drew rein in front +of the little inn, and the villagers crowded round +with greetings and thanks and voluble statements +of their wrongs and grievances and oppressions. +The Boy heard the grave gentle voice of the +Saint, assuring them that all would be well +now, and that he would stand by them and see +them righted and free them from their foe; then +he dismounted and passed through the doorway +and the crowd poured in after him. But the +Boy made off up the hill as fast as he could lay +his legs to the ground.</p> + +<p>"It's all up, dragon!" he shouted as soon +as he was within sight of the beast. "He's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +coming! He's here now! You'll have to pull +yourself together and <i>do</i> something at last!"</p> + +<p>The dragon was licking his scales and rubbing +them with a bit of house-flannel the Boy's mother +had lent him, till he shone like a great turquoise.</p> + +<p>"Don't be <i>violent</i>, Boy," he said without +looking round. "Sit down and get your breath, +and try and remember that the noun governs the +verb, and then perhaps you'll be good enough +to tell me <i>who's</i> coming?"</p> + +<p>"That's right, take it coolly," said the Boy. +"Hope you'll be half as cool when I've got +through with my news. It's only St. George +who's coming, that's all; he rode into the +village half-an-hour ago. Of course you can +lick him—a great big fellow like you! But I +thought I'd warn you, 'cos he's sure to be round +early, and he's got the longest, wickedest-looking +spear you ever did see!" And the Boy got up +and began to jump round in sheer delight at the +prospect of the battle.</p> + +<p>"O deary, deary me," moaned the dragon; +"this is too awful. I won't see him, and that's +flat. I don't want to know the fellow at all.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +I'm sure he's not nice. You must tell him to +go away at once, please. Say he can write if +he likes, but I can't give him an interview. I'm +not seeing anybody at present."</p> + +<p>"Now dragon, dragon," said the Boy, imploringly, +"don't be perverse and wrongheaded. +You've <i>got</i> to fight him some time or other, you +know, 'cos he's St. George and you're the +dragon. Better get it over, and then we can +go on with the sonnets. And you ought to consider +other people a little, too. If it's been dull +up here for you, think how dull it's been for +me!"</p> + +<p>"My dear little man," said the dragon, solemnly, +"just understand, once for all, that I +can't fight and I won't fight. I've never fought +in my life, and I'm not going to begin now, just +to give you a Roman holiday. In old days I +always let the other fellows—the <i>earnest</i> fellows—do +all the fighting, and no doubt that's why +I have the pleasure of being here now."</p> + +<p>"But if you don't fight he'll cut your head +off!" gasped the Boy, miserable at the prospect +of losing both his fight and his friend.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I think not," said the dragon in his lazy +way. "You'll be able to arrange something. +I've every confidence in you, you're such a +<i>manager</i>. Just run down, there's a dear chap, +and make it all right. I leave it entirely to +you."</p> + +<p>The Boy made his way back to the village in +a state of great despondency. First of all, there +wasn't going to be any fight; next, his dear and +honoured friend the dragon hadn't shown up in +quite such a heroic light as he would have liked; +and lastly, whether the dragon was a hero at +heart or not, it made no difference, for St. George +would most undoubtedly cut his head off. "Arrange +things indeed!" he said bitterly to himself. +"The dragon treats the whole affair as +if it was an invitation to tea and croquet."</p> + +<p>The villagers were straggling homewards as +he passed up the street, all of them in the highest +spirits, and gleefully discussing the splendid +fight that was in store. The Boy pursued his +way to the inn, and passed into the principal +chamber, where St. George now sat alone, +musing over the chances of the fight, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +sad stories of rapine and of wrong that had so +lately been poured into his sympathetic ears.</p> + +<p>"May I come in, St. George?" said the Boy, +politely, as he paused at the door. "I want to +talk to you about this little matter of the dragon, +if you're not tired of it by this time."</p> + +<p>"Yes, come in, Boy," said the Saint, kindly. +"Another tale of misery and wrong, I fear me. +Is it a kind parent, then, of whom the tyrant has +bereft you? Or some tender sister or brother? +Well, it shall soon be avenged."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the sort," said the Boy. "There's +a misunderstanding somewhere, and I want to +put it right. The fact is, this is a <i>good</i> dragon."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said St. George, smiling pleasantly, +"I quite understand. A good <i>dragon</i>. +Believe me, I do not in the least regret that he +is an adversary worthy of my steel, and no feeble +specimen of his noxious tribe."</p> + +<p>"But he's <i>not</i> a noxious tribe," cried the +Boy, distressedly. "Oh dear, oh dear, how +<i>stupid</i> men are when they get an idea into their +heads! I tell you he's a <i>good</i> dragon, and a +friend of mine, and tells me the most beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +stories you ever heard, all about old times and +when he was little. And he's been so kind to +mother, and mother'd do anything for him. And +father likes him too, though father doesn't hold +with art and poetry much, and always falls +asleep when the dragon starts talking about +<i>style</i>. But the fact is, nobody can help liking +him when once they know him. He's so engaging +and so trustful, and as simple as a child!"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, and draw your chair up," said +St. George. "I like a fellow who sticks up for +his friends, and I'm sure the dragon has his +good points, if he's got a friend like you. But +that's not the question. All this evening I've +been listening, with grief and anguish unspeakable, +to tales of murder, theft, and wrong; rather +too highly coloured, perhaps, not always quite +convincing, but forming in the main a most +serious roll of crime. History teaches us that +the greatest rascals often possess all the domestic +virtues; and I fear that your cultivated friend, +in spite of the qualities which have won (and +rightly) your regard, has got to be speedily +exterminated."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, you've been taking in all the yarns +those fellows have been telling you," said the +Boy, impatiently. "Why, our villagers are the +biggest story-tellers in all the country round. +It's a known fact. You're a stranger in these +parts, or else you'd have heard it already. All +they want is a <i>fight</i>. They're the most awful +beggars for getting up fights—it's meat and +drink to them. Dogs, bulls, dragons—anything +so long as it's a fight. Why, they've +got a poor innocent badger in the stable behind +here, at this moment. They were going to have +some fun with him to-day, but they're saving +him up now till <i>your</i> little affair's over. And +I've no doubt they've been telling you what a +hero you were, and how you were bound to win, +in the cause of right and justice, and so on; but +let me tell you, I came down the street just +now, and they were betting six to four on the +dragon freely!"</p> + +<p>"Six to four on the dragon!" murmured St. +George, sadly, resting his cheek on his hand. +"This is an evil world, and sometimes I begin +to think that all the wickedness in it is not entirely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +bottled up inside the dragons. And yet—may +not this wily beast have misled you as +to his real character, in order that your good +report of him may serve as a cloak for his evil +deeds? Nay, may there not be, at this very +moment, some hapless Princess immured within +yonder gloomy cavern?"</p> + +<p>The moment he had spoken, St. George was +sorry for what he had said, the Boy looked so +genuinely distressed.</p> + +<p>"I assure you, St. George," he said earnestly, +"there's nothing of the sort in the cave at +all. The dragon's a real gentleman, every +inch of him, and I may say that no one would +be more shocked and grieved than he would, +at hearing you talk in that—that <i>loose</i> way +about matters on which he has very strong +views!"</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps I've been over-credulous," +said St. George. "Perhaps I've misjudged +the animal. But what are we to do? Here +are the dragon and I, almost face to face, each +supposed to be thirsting for each other's blood. +I don't see any way out of it, exactly. What<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +do you suggest? Can't you arrange things, +somehow?"</p> + +<p>"That's just what the dragon said," replied +the Boy, rather nettled. "Really, the way +you two seem to leave everything to me—I +suppose you couldn't be persuaded to go away +quietly, could you?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible, I fear," said the Saint. "Quite +against the rules. <i>You</i> know that as well as I +do."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, look here," said the Boy, "it's +early yet—would you mind strolling up with +me and seeing the dragon and talking it over? +It's not far, and any friend of mine will be most +welcome."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's <i>irregular</i>," said St. George, rising, +"but really it seems about the most sensible +thing to do. You 're taking a lot of trouble on +your friend's account," he added, good-naturedly, +as they passed out through the door together. +"But cheer up! Perhaps there won't have to +be any fight after all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I hope there will, though!" replied +the little fellow, wistfully.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I've brought a friend to see you, dragon," +said the Boy, rather loud.</p> + +<p>The dragon woke up with a start. "I was +just—er—thinking about things," he said in +his simple way. "Very pleased to make your +acquaintance, sir. Charming weather we're +having!"</p> + +<p>"This is St. George," said the Boy, shortly. +"St. George, let me introduce you to the dragon. +We've come up to talk things over quietly, +dragon, and now for goodness' sake do let us +have a little straight common-sense, and come +to some practical business-like arrangement, for +I'm sick of views and theories of life and personal +tendencies, and all that sort of thing. I +may perhaps add that my mother's sitting up."</p> + +<p>"So glad to meet you, St. George," began +the dragon, rather nervously, "because you've +been a great traveller, I hear, and I've always +been rather a stay-at-home. But I can show +you many antiquities, many interesting features +of our country-side, if you're stopping here any +time—"</p> + +<p>"I think," said St. George, in his frank,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +pleasant way, "that we'd really better take the +advice of our young friend here, and try to come +to some understanding, on a business footing, +about this little affair of ours. Now don't you +think that after all the simplest plan would be +just to fight it out, according to the rules, and +let the best man win? They re betting on you, +I may tell you, down in the village, but I don't +mind that!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, <i>do</i>, dragon," said the Boy, delightedly; +"it'll save such a lot of bother!"</p> + +<p>"My young friend, you shut up," said the +dragon, severely. "Believe me, St. George," +he went on, "there's nobody in the world I'd +sooner oblige than you and this young gentleman +here. But the whole thing's nonsense, and +conventionality, and popular thick-headedness. +There's absolutely nothing to fight about, from +beginning to end. And anyhow I'm not going +to, so that settles it!"</p> + +<p>"But supposing I make you?" said St. +George, rather nettled.</p> + +<p>"You can't," said the dragon, triumphantly. +"I should only go into my cave and retire for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +a time down the hole I came up. You'd soon +get heartily sick of sitting outside and waiting +for me to come out and fight you. And as soon +as you'd really gone away, why, I'd come up +again gaily, for I tell you frankly, I like this +place, and I'm going to stay here!"</p> + +<p>St. George gazed for a while on the fair landscape +around them. "But this would be a +beautiful place for a fight," he began again +persuasively. "These great bare rolling Downs +for the arena,—and me in my golden armour +showing up against your big blue scaly coils! +Think what a picture it would make!"</p> + +<p>"Now you're trying to get at me through my +artistic sensibilities," said the dragon. "But it +won't work. Not but what it would make a +very pretty picture, as you say," he added, +wavering a little.</p> + +<p>"We seem to be getting rather nearer to +<i>business</i>," put in the Boy. "You must see, +dragon, that there's got to be a fight of some +sort, 'cos you can't want to have to go down +that dirty old hole again and stop there till +goodness knows when."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It might be arranged," said St. George, +thoughtfully. "I <i>must</i> spear you somewhere, +of course, but I'm not bound to hurt you very +much. There's such a lot of you that there +must be a few <i>spare</i> places somewhere. Here, +for instance, just behind your foreleg. It couldn't +hurt you much, just here!"</p> + +<p>"Now you're tickling, George," said the +dragon, coyly. "No, that place won't do at +all. Even if it didn't hurt,—and I'm sure it +would, awfully,—it would make me laugh, and +that would spoil everything."</p> + +<p>"Let's try somewhere else, then," said St. +George, patiently. "Under your neck, for +instance,—all these folds of thick skin,—if I +speared you here you'd never even know I'd +done it!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but are you sure you can hit off the +right place?" asked the dragon, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Of course I am," said St. George, with +confidence. "You leave that to me!"</p> + +<p>"It's just because I've <i>got</i> to leave it to you +that I'm asking," replied the dragon, rather +testily. "No doubt you would deeply regret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +any error you might make in the hurry of the +moment; but you wouldn't regret it half as +much as I should! However, I suppose we've +got to trust somebody, as we go through life, +and your plan seems, on the whole, as good a +one as any."</p> + +<p>"Look here, dragon," interrupted the Boy, +a little jealous on behalf of his friend, who +seemed to be getting all the worst of the bargain: +"I don't quite see where <i>you</i> come in! +There's to be a fight, apparently, and you're +to be licked; and what I want to know is, what +are <i>you</i> going to get out of it?"</p> + +<p>"St. George," said the dragon, "just tell +him, please,—what will happen after I'm vanquished +in the deadly combat?"</p> + +<p>"Well, according to the rules I suppose I shall +lead you in triumph down to the market-place or +whatever answers to it," said St. George.</p> + +<p>"Precisely," said the dragon. "And then—"</p> + +<p>"And then there'll be shoutings and speeches +and things," continued St. George. "And I +shall explain that you're converted, and see the +error of your ways, and so on."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Quite so," said the dragon. "And then—?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, and then—" said St. George, "why, +and then there will be the usual banquet, I +suppose."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said the dragon; "and that's +where <i>I</i> come in. Look here," he continued, +addressing the Boy, "I'm bored to death up +here, and no one really appreciates me. I'm +going into Society, I am, through the kindly +aid of our friend here, who's taking such a lot +of trouble on my account; and you'll find I've +got all the qualities to endear me to people who +entertain! So now that's all settled, and if you +don't mind—I'm an old-fashioned fellow—don't +want to turn you out, but—"</p> + +<p>"Remember, you'll have to do your proper +share of the fighting, dragon!" said St. George, +as he took the hint and rose to go; "I mean +ramping, and breathing fire, and so on!"</p> + +<p>"I can <i>ramp</i> all right," replied the dragon, +confidently; "as to breathing fire, it's surprising +how easily one gets out of practice; but I'll do +the best I can. Good-night!"</p> + +<p>They had descended the hill and were almost<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +back in the village again, when St. George +stopped short, "<i>Knew</i> I had forgotten something," +he said. "There ought to be a Princess. +Terror-stricken and chained to a rock, and all +that sort of thing. Boy, can't you arrange a +Princess?"</p> + +<p>The Boy was in the middle of a tremendous +yawn. "I'm tired to death," he wailed, "and +I <i>can't</i> arrange a Princess, or anything more, at +this time of night. And my mother's sitting up, +and <i>do</i> stop asking me to arrange more things +till to-morrow!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Next morning the people began streaming up +to the Downs at quite an early hour, in their +Sunday clothes and carrying baskets with bottlenecks +sticking out of them, every one intent on +securing good places for the combat. This was +not exactly a simple matter, for of course it was +quite possible that the dragon might win, and in +that case even those who had put their money +on him felt they could hardly expect him to deal +with his backers on a different footing to the +rest. Places were chosen, therefore, with circumspection<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +and with a view to a speedy retreat +in case of emergency; and the front rank was +mostly composed of boys who had escaped from +parental control and now sprawled and rolled +about on the grass, regardless of the shrill +threats and warnings discharged at them by +their anxious mothers behind.</p> + +<p>The Boy had secured a good front place, well +up towards the cave, and was feeling as anxious +as a stage-manager on a first night. Could the +dragon be depended upon? He might change +his mind and vote the whole performance rot; +or else, seeing that the affair had been so hastily +planned, without even a rehearsal, he might be +too nervous to show up. The Boy looked narrowly +at the cave, but it showed no sign of life +or occupation. Could the dragon have made a +moon-light flitting?</p> + +<p>The higher portions of the ground were now +black with sightseers, and presently a sound of +cheering and a waving of handkerchiefs told that +something was visible to them which the Boy, +far up towards the dragon-end of the line as he +was, could not yet see. A minute more and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +St. George's red plumes topped the hill, as the +Saint rode slowly forth on the great level space +which stretched up to the grim mouth of the +cave. Very gallant and beautiful he looked, on +his tall war-horse, his golden armour glancing +in the sun, his great spear held erect, the little +white pennon, crimson-crossed, fluttering at its +point. He drew rein and remained motionless. +The lines of spectators began to give back a +little, nervously; and even the boys in front +stopped pulling hair and cuffing each other, and +leaned forward expectant.</p> + +<p>"Now then, dragon!" muttered the Boy, +impatiently, fidgeting where he sat. He need +not have distressed himself, had he only known. +The dramatic possibilities of the thing had tickled +the dragon immensely, and he had been up from +an early hour, preparing for his first public appearance +with as much heartiness as if the years +had run backwards, and he had been again a +little dragonlet, playing with his sisters on the +floor of their mother's cave, at the game of +saints-and-dragons, in which the dragon was +bound to win.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> + +<p>A low muttering, mingled with snorts, now +made itself heard; rising to a bellowing roar +that seemed to fill the plain. Then a cloud of +smoke obscured the mouth of the cave, and out +of the midst of it the dragon himself, shining, +sea-blue, magnificent, pranced splendidly forth; +and everybody said, "Oo oo-oo!" as if he had +been a mighty rocket! His scales were glittering, +his long spiky tail lashed his sides, his claws +tore up the turf and sent it flying high over his +back, and smoke and fire incessantly jetted from +his angry nostrils. "Oh, well done, dragon!" +cried the Boy, excitedly. "Didn't think he +had it in him!" he added to himself.</p> + +<p>St. George lowered his spear, bent his head, +dug his heels into his horse's sides, and came +thundering over the turf. The dragon charged +with a roar and a squeal,—a great blue whirling +combination of coils and snorts and clashing +jaws and spikes and fire.</p> + +<p>"Missed!" yelled the crowd. There was +a moment's entanglement of golden armour and +blue-green coils, and spiky tail, and then the +great horse, tearing at his bit, carried the Saint,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +his spear swung high in the air, almost up to the +mouth of the cave.</p> + +<p>The dragon sat down and barked viciously, +while St. George with difficulty pulled his horse +round into position.</p> + +<p>"End of Round One!" thought the Boy. +"How well they managed it! But I hope the +Saint won't get excited. I can trust the dragon +all right. What a regular play-actor the fellow +is!"</p> + +<p>St. George had at last prevailed on his horse +to stand steady, and was looking round him as +he wiped his brow. Catching sight of the Boy, +he smiled and nodded, and held up three fingers +for an instant.</p> + +<p>"It seems to be all planned out," said the +Boy to himself. "Round Three is to be the +finishing one, evidently. Wish it could have +lasted a bit longer. Whatever's that old fool +of a dragon up to now?"</p> + +<p>The dragon was employing the interval in +giving a ramping-performance for the benefit of +the crowd. Ramping, it should be explained, +consists in running round and round in a wide<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +circle, and sending waves and ripples of movement +along the whole length of your spine, from +your pointed ears right down to the spike at the +end of your long tail. When you are covered +with blue scales, the effect is particularly pleasing; +and the Boy recollected the dragon's +recently expressed wish to become a social +success.</p> + +<p>St. George now gathered up his reins and +began to move forward, dropping the point of +his spear and settling himself firmly in the +saddle.</p> + +<p>"Time!" yelled everybody excitedly; and +the dragon, leaving off his ramping, sat up on +end, and began to leap from one side to the +other with huge ungainly bounds, whooping like +a Red Indian. This naturally disconcerted the +horse, who swerved violently, the Saint only just +saving himself by the mane; and as they shot +past the dragon delivered a vicious snap at the +horse's tail which sent the poor beast careering +madly far over the Downs, so that the language +of the Saint, who had lost a stirrup, was fortunately +inaudible to the general assemblage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> + +<p>Round Two evoked audible evidence of +friendly feeling towards the dragon. The spectators +were not slow to appreciate a combatant +who could hold his own so well and clearly +wanted to show good sport; and many encouraging +remarks reached the ears of our friend as +he strutted to and fro, his chest thrust out and +his tail in the air, hugely enjoying his new +popularity.</p> + +<p>St. George had dismounted and was tightening +his girths, and telling his horse, with quite +an Oriental flow of imagery, exactly what he +thought of him, and his relations, and his conduct +on the present occasion; so the Boy made +his way down to the Saint's end of the line, and +held his spear for him.</p> + +<p>"It's been a jolly fight, St. George!" he +said with a sigh. "Can't you let it last a bit +longer?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I think I'd better not," replied the +Saint. "The fact is, your simple-minded old +friend's getting conceited, now they've begun +cheering him, and he'll forget all about the +arrangement and take to playing the fool, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +there's no telling where he would stop. I'll +just finish him off this round."</p> + +<p>He swung himself into the saddle and took +his spear from the Boy. "Now don't you be +afraid," he added kindly. "I've marked my +spot exactly, and he's sure to give me all the +assistance in his power, because he knows it's +his only chance of being asked to the banquet!"</p> + +<p>St. George now shortened his spear, bringing +the butt well up under his arm; and, instead of +galloping as before, trotted smartly towards the +dragon, who crouched at his approach, flicking +his tail till it cracked in the air like a great +cart-whip. The Saint wheeled as he neared his +opponent and circled warily round him, keeping +his eye on the spare place; while the dragon, +adopting similar tactics, paced with caution +round the same circle, occasionally feinting with +his head. So the two sparred for an opening, +while the spectators maintained a breathless +silence.</p> + +<p>Though the round lasted for some minutes, +the end was so swift that all the Boy saw was +a lightning movement of the Saint's arm, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +then a whirl and a confusion of spines, claws, +tail, and flying bits of turf. The dust cleared +away, the spectators whooped and ran in cheering, +and the Boy made out that the dragon was +down, pinned to the earth by the spear, while +St. George had dismounted, and stood astride +of him.</p> + +<p>It all seemed so genuine that the Boy ran in +breathlessly, hoping the dear old dragon wasn't +really hurt. As he approached, the dragon +lifted one large eyelid, winked solemnly, and +collapsed again. He was held fast to earth by +the neck, but the Saint had hit him in the spare +place agreed upon, and it didn't even seem to +tickle.</p> + +<p>"Bain't you goin' to cut 'is 'ed orf, master?" +asked one of the applauding crowd. He had +backed the dragon, and naturally felt a trifle +sore.</p> + +<p>"Well, not to-day, I think," replied St. +George, pleasantly. "You see, that can be +done at any time. There's no hurry at all. I +think we'll all go down to the village first, and +have some refreshment, and then I'll give him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +a good talking-to, and you'll find he'll be a +very different dragon!"</p> + +<p>At that magic word refreshment the whole +crowd formed up in procession and silently +awaited the signal to start. The time for talking +and cheering and betting was past, the hour +for action had arrived. St. George, hauling on +his spear with both hands, released the dragon, +who rose and shook himself and ran his eye over +his spikes and scales and things, to see that they +were all in order. Then the Saint mounted and +led off the procession, the dragon following +meekly in the company of the Boy, while the +thirsty spectators kept at a respectful interval +behind.</p> + +<p>There were great doings when they got down +to the village again, and had formed up in front +of the inn. After refreshment St. George made +a speech, in which he informed his audience that +he had removed their direful scourge, at a great +deal of trouble and inconvenience to himself, +and now they weren't to go about grumbling +and fancying they'd got grievances, because +they hadn't. And they shouldn't be so fond<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +of fights, because next time they might have to +do the fighting themselves, which would not be +the same thing at all. And there was a certain +badger in the inn stables which had got to be +released at once, and he'd come and see it done +himself. Then he told them that the dragon +had been thinking over things, and saw that +there were two sides to every question, and he +wasn't going to do it any more, and if they +were good perhaps he'd stay and settle down +there. So they must make friends, and not be +prejudiced, and go about fancying they knew +everything there was to be known, because they +didn't, not by a long way. And he warned +them against the sin of romancing, and making +up stories and fancying other people would +believe them just because they were plausible +and highly-coloured. Then he sat down, amidst +much repentant cheering, and the dragon nudged +the Boy in the ribs and whispered that he couldn't +have done it better himself. Then every one +went off to get ready for the banquet.</p> + +<p>Banquets are always pleasant things, consisting +mostly, as they do, of eating and drinking;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +but the specially nice thing about a banquet is, +that it comes when something's over, and there's +nothing more to worry about, and to-morrow +seems a long way off. St. George was happy +because there had been a fight and he hadn't +had to kill anybody; for he didn't really like +killing, though he generally had to do it. The +dragon was happy because there had been a +fight, and so far from being hurt in it he had +won popularity and a sure footing in society. +The Boy was happy because there had been a +fight, and in spite of it all his two friends were +on the best of terms. And all the others were +happy because there had been a fight, and—well, +they didn't require any other reasons for +their happiness. The dragon exerted himself to +say the right thing to everybody, and proved the +life and soul of the evening; while the Saint +and the Boy, as they looked on, felt that they +were only assisting at a feast of which the +honour and the glory were entirely the dragon's. +But they didn't mind that, being good fellows, +and the dragon was not in the least proud or +forgetful. On the contrary, every ten minutes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +or so he leant over towards the Boy and said +impressively: "Look here! you will see me +home afterwards, won't you?" And the Boy +always nodded, though he had promised his +mother not to be out late.</p> + +<p>At last the banquet was over, the guests had +dropped away with many good-nights and congratulations +and invitations, and the dragon, +who had seen the last of them off the premises, +emerged into the street followed by the Boy, +wiped his brow, sighed, sat down in the road +and gazed at the stars. "Jolly night it's +been!" he murmured. "Jolly stars! Jolly +little place this! Think I shall just stop here. +Don't feel like climbing up any beastly hill. +Boy's promised to see me home. Boy had +better do it then! No responsibility on my +part. Responsibility all Boy's!" And his +chin sank on his broad chest and he slumbered +peacefully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, get up, dragon," cried the Boy, piteously. +"You know my mother's sitting up, +and I'm so tired, and you made me promise to +see you home, and I never knew what it meant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +or I wouldn't have done it!" And the Boy +sat down in the road by the side of the sleeping +dragon, and cried.</p> + +<p>The door behind them opened, a stream of +light illumined the road, and St. George, who +had come out for a stroll in the cool night-air, +caught sight of the two figures sitting there—the +great motionless dragon and the tearful little +Boy.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Boy?" he inquired +kindly, stepping to his side.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's this great lumbering <i>pig</i> of a +dragon!" sobbed the Boy. "First he makes +me promise to see him home, and then he says +I'd better do it, and goes to sleep! Might as +well try to see a <i>haystack</i> home! And I'm so +tired, and mother's—" here he broke down again.</p> + +<p>"Now don't take on," said St. George. "I'll +stand by you, and we'll <i>both</i> see him home. +Wake up, dragon!" he said sharply, shaking +the beast by the elbow.</p> + +<p>The dragon looked up sleepily. "What a +night, George!" he murmured; "what a—"</p> + +<p>"Now look here, dragon," said the Saint,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +firmly. "Here's this little fellow waiting to +see you home, and you <i>know</i> he ought to have +been in bed these two hours, and what his +mother'll say <i>I</i> don't know, and anybody but +a selfish pig would have <i>made</i> him go to bed +long ago—"</p> + +<p>"And he <i>shall</i> go to bed!" cried the dragon, +starting up. "Poor little chap, only fancy his +being up at this hour! It's a shame, that's +what it is, and I don't think, St. George, you've +been very considerate—but come along at once, +and don't let us have any more arguing or shilly-shallying. +You give me hold of your hand, Boy—thank +you, George, an arm up the hill is just +what I wanted!"</p> + +<p>So they set off up the hill arm-in-arm, the +Saint, the Dragon, and the Boy. The lights +in the little village began to go out; but there +were stars, and a late moon, as they climbed to +the Downs together. And, as they turned the +last corner and disappeared from view, snatches +of an old song were borne back on the night-breeze. +I can't be certain which of them was +singing, but I <i>think</i> it was the Dragon!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here we are at your gate," said the man, +abruptly, laying his hand on it. "Good-night. +Cut along in sharp, or you'll catch it!"</p> + +<p>Could it really be our own gate? Yes, there +it was, sure enough, with the familiar marks on +its bottom bar made by our feet when we swung +on it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but wait a minute!" cried Charlotte. +"I want to know a heap of things. Did the +dragon really settle down? And did—"</p> + +<p>"There isn't any more of that story," said +the man, kindly but firmly. "At least, not tonight. +Now be off! Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>"Wonder if it's all true?" said Charlotte, +as we hurried up the path. "Sounded dreadfully +like nonsense, in parts!"</p> + +<p>"P'raps it's true for all that," I replied +encouragingly.</p> + +<p>Charlotte bolted in like a rabbit, out of the +cold and the dark; but I lingered a moment in +the still, frosty air, for a backward glance at the +silent white world without, ere I changed it for +the land of firelight and cushions and laughter. +It was the day for choir-practice, and caroltime<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +was at hand, and a belated member was passing +homewards down the road, singing as he went:—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Then St. George: ee made rev'rence: in the stable so dim,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Oo vanquished the dragon: so fearful and grim.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">So-o grim: and so-o fierce: that now may we say</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">All peaceful is our wakin': on Chri-istmas Day!"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>The singer receded, the carol died away. But +I wondered, with my hand on the door-latch, +whether that was the song, or something like it, +that the dragon sang as he toddled contentedly +up the hill.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec05.png" width="400" height="367" alt="Decoration: Boy asleep on ground" title="" /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> + +<h2>A DEPARTURE</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IT is a very fine thing to be a real Prince. +There are points about a Pirate Chief, and +to succeed to the Captaincy of a Robber Band +is a truly magnificent thing. But to be an Heir +has also about it something extremely captivating. +Not only a long-lost heir—an heir of the +melodrama, strutting into your hitherto unsuspected +kingdom at just the right moment, loaded +up with the consciousness of unguessed merit +and of rights so long feloniously withheld—but +even to be a common humdrum domestic heir +is a profession to which few would refuse to be +apprenticed. To step from leading-strings and +restrictions and one glass of port after dinner, +into property and liberty and due appreciation, +saved up, polished and varnished, dusted and +laid in lavender, all expressly for you—why, +even the Princedom and the Robber Captaincy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +when their anxieties and responsibilities are considered, +have hardly more to offer. And so it +will continue to be a problem, to the youth in +whom ambition struggles with a certain sensuous +appreciation of life's side-dishes, whether the +career he is called upon to select out of the +glittering knick-knacks that strew the counter +had better be that of an heir or an engine-driver.</div> + +<p>In the case of eldest sons, this problem has +a way of solving itself. In childhood, however, +the actual heirship is apt to work on the principle +of the "Borough-English" of our happier ancestors, +and in most cases of inheritance it is +the youngest that succeeds. Where the "res" +is "angusta," and the weekly books are simply +a series of stiff hurdles at each of which in succession +the paternal legs falter with growing +suspicion of their powers to clear the flight, it +is in the affair of clothes that the right of succession +tells, and "the hard heir strides about the +land" in trousers long ago framed for fraternal +limbs—<i>frondes novas et non sua poma</i>. A +bitter thing indeed! Of those pretty silken +threads that knit humanity together, high and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +low, past and present, none is tougher, more +pervading, or more iridescent, than the honest, +simple pleasure of new clothes. It tugs at the +man as it tugs at the woman; the smirk of the +well-fitted prince is no different from the smirk +of the Sunday-clad peasant; and the veins of +the elders tingle with the same thrill that sets +their fresh-frocked grandchildren skipping. Never +trust people who pretend that they have no joy +in their new clothes.</p> + +<p>Let not our souls be wrung, however, at contemplation +of the luckless urchin cut off by parental +penury from the rapture of new clothes. +Just as the heroes of his dreams are his immediate +seniors, so his heroes' clothes share the +glamour, and the reversion of them carries a +high privilege—a special thing not sold by +Swears and Wells. The sword of Galahad—and +of many another hero—arrived on the scene +already hoary with history, and the boy rather +prefers his trousers to be legendary, famous, +haloed by his hero's renown—even though the +nap may have altogether vanished in the process.</p> + +<p>But, putting clothes aside, there are other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +matters in which this reversed heirship comes +into play. Take the case of Toys. It is hardly +right or fitting—and in this the child quite acquiesces—that +as he approaches the reverend +period of nine or say ten years, he should still +be the unabashed and proclaimed possessor of +a hoop and a Noah's Ark. The child will quite +see the reasonableness of this, and, the goal of +his ambition being now a catapult, a pistol, or +even a sword-stick, will be satisfied that the +titular ownership should lapse to his juniors, so +far below him in their kilted or petticoated incompetence. +After all, the things are still there, +and if relapses of spirit occur, on wet afternoons, +one can still (nominally) borrow them and be +happy on the floor as of old, without the reproach +of being a habitual baby toy-caresser. Also +one can pretend it's being done to amuse the +younger ones.</p> + +<p>None of us, therefore, grumbled when in the +natural course of things the nominal ownership +of the toys slipped down to Harold, and from +him in turn devolved upon Charlotte. The toys +were still there; they always had been there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +and always would be there, and when the nursery +door was fast shut there were no Kings or +Queens or First Estates in that small Republic +on the floor. Charlotte, to be sure, chin-tilted, +at last an owner of real estate, might patronise +a little at times; but it was tacitly understood +that her "title" was only a drawing-room one.</p> + +<p>Why does a coming bereavement project no +thin faint voice, no shadow of its woe, to warn +its happy, heedless victims? Why cannot +Olympians ever think it worth while to give +some hint of the thunderbolts they are silently +forging? And why, oh, why did it never enter +any of our thick heads that the day would come +when even Charlotte would be considered too +matronly for toys? One's so-called education +is hammered into one with rulers and with canes. +Each fresh grammar or musical instrument, each +new historical period or quaint arithmetical rule, +is impressed on one by some painful physical prelude. +Why does Time, the biggest Schoolmaster, +alone neglect premonitory raps, at each stage +of his curriculum, on our knuckles or our heads?</p> + +<p>Uncle Thomas was at the bottom of it. This<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +was not the first mine he had exploded under +our bows. In his favourite pursuit of fads he +had passed in turn from Psychical Research to +the White Rose and thence to a Children's +Hospital, and we were being daily inundated +with leaflets headed by a woodcut depicting +Little Annie (of Poplar) sitting up in her little +white cot, surrounded by the toys of the nice, +kind, rich children. The idea caught on with +the Olympians, always open to sentiment of a +treacly, woodcut order; and accordingly Charlotte, +on entering one day dishevelled and panting, +having been pursued by yelling Redskins +up to the very threshold of our peaceful home, +was curtly informed that her French lessons +would begin on Monday, that she was henceforth +to cease all pretence of being a trapper or a +Redskin on utterly inadequate grounds, and +moreover that the whole of her toys were at that +moment being finally packed up in a box, for +despatch to London, to gladden the lives and +bring light into the eyes of London waifs and +Poplar Annies.</p> + +<p>Naturally enough, perhaps, we others received<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +no official intimation of this grave cession of +territory. We were not supposed to be interested. +Harold had long ago been promoted to +a knife—a recognised, birthday knife. As for +me, it was known that I was already given over, +heart and soul, to lawless abandoned catapults—catapults +which were confiscated weekly for +reasons of international complications, but with +which Edward kept me steadily supplied, his +school having a fine old tradition for excellence +in their manufacture. Therefore no one was +supposed to be really affected but Charlotte, +and even she had already reached Miss Yonge, +and should therefore have been more interested +in prolific curates and harrowing deathbeds.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding, we all felt indignant, betrayed, +and sullen to the verge of mutiny. Though for +long we had affected to despise them, these toys, +yet they had grown up with us, shared our joys +and our sorrows, seen us at our worst, and become +part of the accepted scheme of existence. +As we gazed at untenanted shelves and empty, +hatefully tidy corners, perhaps for the first time +for long we began to do them a tardy justice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was old Leotard, for instance. Somehow +he had come to be sadly neglected of late +years—and yet how exactly he always responded +to certain moods! He was an acrobat, this +Leotard, who lived in a glass-fronted box. His +loose-jointed limbs were cardboard, cardboard +his slender trunk; and his hands eternally grasped +the bar of a trapeze. You turned the box round +swiftly five or six times; the wonderful unsolved +machinery worked, and Leotard swung and leapt, +backwards, forwards, now astride the bar, now +flying free; iron-jointed, supple-sinewed, unceasingly +novel in his invention of new, unguessable +attitudes; while above, below, and around +him, a richly-dressed audience, painted in skilful +perspective of stalls, boxes, dress-circle, and +gallery, watched the thrilling performance with +a stolidity which seemed to mark them out as +made in Germany. Hardly versatile enough, +perhaps, this Leotard; unsympathetic, not a +companion for all hours; nor would you have +chosen him to take to bed with you. And yet, +within his own limits, how fresh, how engrossing, +how resourceful and inventive! Well, he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +gone, it seemed—merely gone. Never specially +cherished while he tarried with us, he had yet +contrived to build himself a particular niche of +his own. Sunrise and sunset, and the dinner-bell, +and the sudden rainbow, and lessons, and Leotard, +and the moon through the nursery windows—they +were all part of the great order of things, and +the displacement of any one item seemed to disorganise +the whole machinery. The immediate +point was, not that the world would continue to +go round as of old, but that Leotard wouldn't.</p> + +<p>Yonder corner, now swept and garnished, had +been the stall wherein the spotty horse, at the +close of each laborious day, was accustomed to +doze peacefully the long night through. In +days of old each of us in turn had been jerked +thrillingly round the room on his precarious +back, had dug our heels into his unyielding +sides, and had scratched our hands on the tin +tacks that secured his mane to his stiffly-curving +neck. Later, with increasing stature, we came +to overlook his merits as a beast of burden; but +how frankly, how good-naturedly, he had recognised +the new conditions, and adapted himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +to them without a murmur! When the military +spirit was abroad, who so ready to be a squadron +of cavalry, a horde of Cossacks, or artillery +pounding into position? He had even served +with honour as a gun-boat, during a period +when naval strategy was the only theme; and +no false equine pride ever hindered him from +taking the part of a roaring locomotive, earth-shaking, +clangorous, annihilating time and space. +Really it was no longer clear how life, with its +manifold emergencies, was to be carried on at +all without a fellow like the spotty horse, ready +to step in at critical moments and take up just +the part required of him.</p> + +<p>In moments of mental depression, nothing is +quite so consoling as the honest smell of a painted +animal; and mechanically I turned towards the +shelf that had been so long the Ararat of our +weather beaten Ark. The shelf was empty, the +Ark had cast off moorings and sailed away to +Poplar, and had taken with it its haunting smell, +as well as that pleasant sense of disorder that +the best conducted Ark is always able to impart. +The sliding roof had rarely been known to close<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +entirely. There was always a pair of giraffe-legs +sticking out, or an elephant-trunk, taking +from the stiffness of its outline, and reminding +us that our motley crowd of friends inside were +uncomfortably cramped for room and only too +ready to leap in a cascade on the floor and +browse and gallop, flutter and bellow and neigh, +and be their natural selves again. I think that +none of us ever really thought very much of +Ham and Shem and Japhet. They were only +there because they were in the story, but nobody +really wanted them. The Ark was built for the +animals, of course—animals with tails, and +trunks, and horns, and at least three legs apiece, +though some unfortunates had been unable to +retain even that number. And in the animals +were of course included the birds—the dove, +for instance, grey with black wings, and the +red-crested woodpecker—or was it a hoopoe?—and +the insects, for there was a dear beetle, +about the same size as the dove, that held its +own with any of the mammalia.</p> + +<p>Of the doll-department Charlotte had naturally +been sole chief for a long time; if the staff were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +not in their places to-day, it was not I who had +any official right to take notice. And yet one +may have been member of a Club for many a +year without ever exactly understanding the use +and object of the other members, until one enters, +some Christmas day or other holiday, and, surveying +the deserted armchairs, the untenanted sofas, +the barren hat-pegs, realises, with depression, that +those other fellows had their allotted functions, +after all. Where was old Jerry? Where were +Eugenie, Rosa, Sophy, Esmeralda? We had +long drifted apart, it was true, we spoke but +rarely; perhaps, absorbed in new ambitions, +new achievements, I had even come to look +down on these conservative, unprogressive members +who were so clearly content to remain simply +what they were. And now that their corners +were unfilled, their chairs unoccupied—well, +my eyes were opened and I wanted 'em back!</p> + +<p>However it was no business of mine. If +grievances were the question, I hadn't a leg to +stand upon. Though my catapults were officially +confiscated, I knew the drawer in which +they were incarcerated, and where the key of it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +was hidden, and I could make life a burden, if +I chose, to every living thing within a square-mile +radius, so long as the catapult was restored +to its drawer in due and decent time. But I +wondered how the others were taking it. The +edict hit them more severely. They should have +my moral countenance at any rate, if not more, +in any protest or countermine they might be +planning. And, indeed, something seemed possible, +from the dogged, sullen air with which the +two of them had trotted off in the direction of +the raspberry-canes. Certain spots always had +their insensible attraction for certain moods. In +love, one sought the orchard. Weary of discipline, +sick of convention, impassioned for the +road, the mining-camp, the land across the +border, one made for the big meadow. Mutinous, +sulky, charged with plots and conspiracies, +one always got behind the shelter of the raspberry-canes.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"You can come too if you like," said Harold, +in a subdued sort of way, as soon as he was +aware that I was sitting up in bed watching him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +"We didn't think you'd care, 'cos you've got +to catapults. But we're goin' to do what we've +settled to do, so it's no good sayin' we hadn't +ought and that sort of thing, 'cos we're goin' +to!"</p> + +<p>The day had passed in an ominous peacefulness. +Charlotte and Harold had kept out of +my way, as well as out of everybody else's, in +a purposeful manner that ought to have bred +suspicion. In the evening we had read books, +or fitfully drawn ships and battles on fly-leaves, +apart, in separate corners, void of conversation +or criticism, oppressed by the lowering tidiness +of the universe, till bedtime came, and disrobement, +and prayers even more mechanical than +usual, and lastly bed itself without so much as +a giraffe under the pillow. Harold had grunted +himself between the sheets with an ostentatious +pretence of overpowering fatigue; but I noticed +that he pulled his pillow forward and propped +his head against the brass bars of his crib, and, +as I was acquainted with most of his tricks and +subterfuges, it was easy for me to gather that a +painful wakefulness was his aim that night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> + +<p>I had dozed off, however, and Harold was out +and on his feet, poking under the bed for his +shoes, when I sat up and grimly regarded him. +Just as he said I could come if I liked, Charlotte +slipped in, her face rigid and set. And +then it was borne in upon me that I was not on +in this scene. These youngsters had planned +it all out, the piece was their own, and the +mounting, and the cast. My sceptre had fallen, +my rule had ceased. In this magic hour of the +summer night laws went for nothing, codes were +cancelled, and those who were most in touch +with the moonlight and the warm June spirit +and the topsy-turvydom that reigns when the +clock strikes ten, were the true lords and +lawmakers.</p> + +<p>Humbly, almost timidly, I followed without +a protest in the wake of these two remorseless, +purposeful young persons, who were marching +straight for the schoolroom. Here in the moonlight +the grim big box stood visible—the box in +which so large a portion of our past and our +personality lay entombed, cold, swathed in paper, +awaiting the carrier of the morning who should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +speed them forth to the strange, cold, distant +Children's Hospital, where their little failings +would all be misunderstood and no one would +make allowances. A dreamy spectator, I stood +idly by while Harold propped up the lid and the +two plunged in their arms and probed and felt +and grappled.</p> + +<p>"Here's Rosa," said Harold, suddenly. "I +know the feel of her hair. Will you have Rosa +out?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, give me Rosa!" cried Charlotte, with +a sort of gasp. And when Rosa had been +dragged forth, quite unmoved apparently, placid +as ever in her moonfaced contemplation of this +comedy-world with its ups and downs, Charlotte +retired with her to the window-seat, and there +in the moonlight the two exchanged their private +confidences, leaving Harold to his exploration +alone.</p> + +<p>"Here's something with sharp corners," said +Harold, presently. "Must be Leotard, I think. +Better let <i>him</i> go."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, we can't save Leotard," assented +Charlotte, limply.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p> + +<p>Poor old Leotard! I said nothing, of course; +I was not on in this piece. But, surely, had +Leotard heard and rightly understood all that +was going on above him, he must have sent up +one feeble, strangled cry, one faint appeal to be +rescued from unfamiliar little Annies and retained +for an audience certain to appreciate and never +unduly critical.</p> + +<p>"Now I've got to the Noah's Ark," panted +Harold, still groping blindly.</p> + +<p>"Try and shove the lid back a bit," said +Charlotte, "and pull out a dove or a zebra or +a giraffe if there's one handy."</p> + +<p>Harold toiled on with grunts and contortions, +and presently produced in triumph a small grey +elephant and a large beetle with a red stomach.</p> + +<p>"They're jammed in too tight," he complained. +"Can't get any more out. But as I +came up I'm sure I felt Potiphar!" And down +he dived again.</p> + +<p>Potiphar was a finely modelled bull with a +<i>suede</i> skin, rough and comfortable and warm in +bed. He was my own special joy and pride, +and I thrilled with honest emotion when Potiphar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +emerged to light once more, stout-necked +and stalwart as ever.</p> + +<p>"That'll have to do," said Charlotte, getting +up. "We dursn't take any more, 'cos we'll be +found out if we do. Make the box all right, +and bring 'em along."</p> + +<p>Harold rammed down the wads of paper and +twists of straw he had disturbed, replaced the +lid squarely and innocently, and picked up his +small salvage; and we sneaked off for the window +most generally in use for prison-breakings +and nocturnal escapades. A few seconds later +and we were hurrying silently in single file along +the dark edge of the lawn.</p> + +<p>Oh, the riot, the clamour, the crowding chorus, +of all silent things that spoke by scent and colour +and budding thrust and foison, that moonlit night +of June! Under the laurel-shade all was still +ghostly enough, brigand-haunted, crackling, +whispering of night and all its possibilities of +terror. But the open garden, when once we +were in it—how it turned a glad new face to +welcome us, glad as of old when the sunlight +raked and searched it, new with the unfamiliar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +night-aspect that yet welcomed us as guests to +a hall where the horns blew up to a new, strange +banquet! Was this the same grass, could these +be the same familiar flower-beds, alleys, clumps +of verdure, patches of sward? At least this full +white light that was flooding them was new, and +accounted for all. It was Moonlight Land, +and Past-Ten-o'clock Land, and we were in it +and of it, and all its other denizens fully understood, +and, tongue-free and awakened at last, +responded and comprehended and knew. The +other two, doubtless, hurrying forward full of +their mission, noted little of all this. I, who +was only a super, had leisure to take it all in, +and, though the language and the message of +the land were not all clear to me then, long +afterwards I remembered and understood.</p> + +<p>Under the farthest hedge, at the loose end of +things, where the outer world began with the +paddock, there was darkness once again—not +the blackness that crouched so solidly under the +crowding laurels, but a duskiness hung from +far-spread arms of high-standing elms. There, +where the small grave made a darker spot on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +the grey, I overtook them, only just in time to +see Rosa laid stiffly out, her cherry cheeks pale +in the moonlight, but her brave smile triumphant +and undaunted as ever. It was a tiny grave +and a shallow one, to hold so very much. Rosa +once in, Potiphar, who had hitherto stood erect, +stout-necked, through so many days and such +various weather, must needs bow his head and +lie down meekly on his side. The elephant and +the beetle, equal now in a silent land where a +vertebra and a red circulation counted for nothing, +had to snuggle down where best they might, +only a little less crowded than in their native +Ark.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Man in tree watching and caption"> +<tr><td align='left'><img src="images/ill08.jpg" width="371" height="500" alt="A DEPARTURE" title="" /></td> +<td align='center'>A DEPARTURE<br /><br />"<i>As we turned to go, the man in the moon, tangled in elm boughs, +caught my eye for a moment.</i>"</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p>The earth was shovelled in and stamped down, +and I was glad that no orisons were said and no +speechifying took place. The whole thing was +natural and right and self explanatory, and needed +no justifying or interpreting to our audience of +stars and flowers. The connexion was not entirely +broken now—one link remained between +us and them. The Noah's Ark, with its cargo +of sad-faced emigrants, might be hull down on +the horizon, but two of its passengers had missed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +the boat and would henceforth be always near +us; and, as we played above them, an elephant +would understand, and a beetle would hear, and +crawl again in spirit along a familiar floor. +Henceforth the spotty horse would scour along +far-distant plains and know the homesickness of +alien stables; but Potiphar, though never again +would he paw the arena when bull-fights were +on the bill, was spared maltreatment by town-bred +strangers, quite capable of mistaking him +for a cow. Jerry and Esmeralda might shed +their limbs and their stuffing, by slow or swift +degrees, in uttermost parts and unguessed corners +of the globe; but Rosa's book was finally +closed, and no worse fate awaited her than +natural dissolution almost within touch and hail +of familiar faces and objects that had been +friendly to her since first she opened her eyes on +a world where she had never been treated as a +stranger.</p> + +<p>As we turned to go, the man in the moon, +tangled in elm-boughs, caught my eye for a +moment, and I thought that never had he looked +so friendly. He was going to see after them, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +was evident; for he was always there, more or +less, and it was no trouble to him at all, and he +would tell them how things were still going, up +here, and throw in a story or two of his own +whenever they seemed a trifle dull. It made +the going away rather easier, to know one had +left somebody behind on the spot; a good fellow, +too, cheery, comforting, with a fund of anecdote; +a man in whom one had every confidence.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/dec06.png" width="400" height="417" alt="Decoration: Man in the moon" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class='tnote'><div class='center'><b>Transcriber's Notes:</b></div> + +<p>Repeated story titles were deleted to avoid redundancy in reading. Varied hyphenation +has been retained.</p> + +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p></div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dream Days, by Kenneth Grahame + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DREAM DAYS *** + +***** This file should be named 35187-h.htm or 35187-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/1/8/35187/ + +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/American 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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