JOHNNIE'S PROTEGE.
OHNNIE completed his task in two or three days, labouring at it at first very earnestly, then growing tired, getting careless, and finally finishing it up in a hurry, with so little effort at accuracy of rendering or clearness of style, that any one less sanguine than he would have considered the attainment of the half-crown hopeless. Honorius glanced over the translation, and shook his head ominously, wishing that he might be allowed to make some improvements in it; but his father's injunction to Johnnie to accept no help put this out of the question, so it was delivered into Dr. Campbell's hands just as it was. The first part was very satisfactory. 'Very good, very good indeed, Johnnie!' he exclaimed as his eye ran rapidly down the neatly written lines; but his face lengthened as he went on. 'Why, how you have begun to scribble here, Johnnie!' he said as he reached the middle. 'And what do you mean by this? You have not even given the sense of this passage correctly. Here, take the book and translate it to me word by word.'
Johnnie stumbled wofully in his rendering, not from confusion, but from sheer ignorance; and both the written and verbal translation went on getting worse and worse, till at last the Doctor, who was rather a hasty man, lost all patience, and tossed the whole production into the fire, exclaiming, 'Pshaw! far from deserving any reward, that translation is the most wretched exhibition of carelessness and idleness that I ever saw. I don't know what's to become of you, Johnnie, if you can't, or rather won't, do better than that!'
The little boys glanced at poor Lackland in terror and dismay, and Willie's eyes filled with tears; but Johnnie only coloured, and, shutting up the volume of Cæsar, put it in its place again, and resumed the occupation of making a willow-wand into a bow, on which he had been engaged when his father summoned him. If Honorius had met with such a rebuff, he would have remained bitterly hurt and ashamed for the rest of the day, and Willie in the same case would have been utterly humbled and discouraged. Not so 'Jean-sans-terre.' What his cogitations were, his brothers could not decide; but the result was, that when he had bidden his father good-night, he paused a minute, and then added, 'May I have another try at Cæsar, papa?' The tone was bright and cheery, and Dr. Campbell looked up in pleased surprise—
'Do you really mean it, Johnnie?' he said hopefully.
'Yes, I do indeed, papa; but perhaps you wouldn't like the trouble of looking over another translation. I know that one was awful.'
'If you can take the trouble of writing it, I shall not begrudge the trouble of looking over it; but mind, it must be well done. I'd rather you took a month about it than brought me such a one as that of to-night.'
'Oh, thank you, papa, but that wouldn't suit me at all; I want the half-crown as quick as I can get it. I'll work night and day rather than not have the translation done soon.'
'Then I am to understand it is merely for the sake of the half-crown you are willing to do this bit of Cæsar over again?' said Dr. Campbell disappointedly: 'I had hoped that it was from a better motive—a real desire to improve and conquer your carelessness, or a wish to please and satisfy your mother and me.' He looked full at his son as he spoke, and seemed to expect an answer. It came, bold and true: 'I was only thinking of the half-crown, papa.' Yet if Dr. Campbell could have known to what purpose the half-crown was to be devoted, he would have seen that love to the mother was the primary motive, after all, and would not have turned away so coldly as he did from this apparently mercenary speech. Honorius thought so, and would have explained; but Johnnie pulled his sleeve and whispered something, and meanwhile the Doctor left the room.
'Oh, how could you answer like that, Johnnie?' remonstrated Willie when the two boys were alone in the attic which they shared together. 'If you had told papa what you wanted the half-crown for, he would have been pleased, whereas now I don't know what he thinks of you.'
'I only gave a plain answer to a plain question,' said Johnnie. 'If he had asked me what I wanted the money for, I might have told him.'
'But it appeared——'
'I don't care what it appeared,' interrupted Lackland, laughing; 'I only wish papa hadn't burnt the whole of my translation: the beginning of it was all right, and I might have copied it straight off, instead of having to make it all out again.'
'Oh yes! that was dreadful,' replied Willie. 'And then what he said too! I was so sorry, Johnnie; I knew you must be so ashamed.'
Jean-sans-terre's eyes seemed to be searching after penitence again, as they had when his mother spoke to him.
'Ought I to have been ashamed?' he asked with simplicity.
The question appeared to Willie so extraordinary, that he really didn't know what to say in answer. He pondered over it seriously while he was undressing, and added to his evening prayers this clause: 'Make Johnnie more sorry when he has vexed papa.'
Dr. Campbell was certainly vexed and disappointed with his son, and showed it a little in his manner, which was, however, quite useless as far as Johnnie was concerned, for he never even remarked it. There are children so sensitive, that the faintest shade of sadness or disapproval in the manner of their elders towards them will suffice to make them unhappy for days; there are others who, unless they are actually scolded or punished, never perceive that anything is amiss: and Johnnie was one of these last. He was just as pleasant and affectionate to his father as usual, just as fearless in his remarks and questions, and showed up his translation, when he had finished it, quite as unconcernedly as if no previous one had ever existed. He got the half-crown this time, and a fair meed of praise, which he received with undisguised satisfaction, and the mental reflection that 'papa was very kind.'
Dr. Campbell did not inquire how he meant to spend the money, not wishing to show a want of confidence in his son; and Johnnie tarried for no explanation, but raced off to the nurseryman's, only pausing to tell Honorius that he was no longer 'sans argent,' and to ask what plants he should buy.
The boys, by constant labour, had managed already to dig up the proposed flower-border and to level the part intended for the paths; but Honorius was sadly at a loss as to where they should get gravel for the latter. He could not help looking rather wistfully at a great heap of it—beautiful golden gravel too—which lay in one corner of the garden of an old lady to whom his father one day sent him with a message; and Mrs. Western—as this old lady was called—noticed her young friend's expression, and asked what he was thinking of. He told her of his plans for the desert, and inquired where such gravel was to be bought, and if it were very dear. She replied that it was rather so, but this had been given her by her son-in-law, who had a gravel-pit on his estate, and added very kindly, 'You are quite welcome to have what you see there, for I have used as much as I shall want for the present; only you must send some one for it, for I can't ask my maid to carry gravel.' Honorius thanked her warmly, and joyfully accepted her offer, promising to send some one for the gravel as soon as he possibly could.
The difficulty was to know whom to send, for the Campbells' in-door servants were all maids; and when the boys begged the old man who took care of their father's horse and drove his gig to go to Mrs. Western's for them, he replied surlily that he had hard work enough as it was ('night and day both, sometimes, when master is sent for from a distance'), and declined to assist them.
'I know,' said Johnnie. 'The next half-holiday Bob Middleton would do it for sixpence or a shilling; he could take the wheelbarrow and get a load at a time. I declare I wouldn't mind fetching it myself, if I thought papa wouldn't object.'
'Oh, nonsense,' said Honorius. 'Work as hard as you like here, but don't take to wheeling gravel through the village, pray. Bob Middleton might do, only he's such an impudent fellow. I hate having anything to say to him.'
'Oh, I'll transmit your royal commands to him, if that's all,' said Johnnie; 'only say yes, and I'll look him up this afternoon: perhaps he might go to Mrs. Western's for us at once.'
Honorius gave a reluctant consent, and accordingly Johnnie appeared in the desert soon after three o'clock, accompanied by a youth of fifteen, very raggedly attired, and with a face which was an extraordinary compound of ugliness and roguery. Bob undertook for a shilling to fetch all the gravel from Mrs. Western's, and set off at once for the first load, with which he returned ere long. He came and went several times; but at last such a long interval elapsed between his going and returning, that the boys began to be alarmed.
'He's gone off with the wheelbarrow, I do believe,' said Honorius.
'"Body o' me!" as old King Jamie used to say, you don't suppose such a thing,' cried Johnnie. 'Spite of his objections to soap and water and the English grammar, I have a higher opinion of Bob than that.'
But as still time passed on and Bob did not return, Duncan and Seymour were sent in search of him. They looked for him by the way, but saw nothing of him, and at length arrived at Mrs. Western's house and rang the bell.
'Has a boy been here for some gravel Mrs. Western promised us, or is he here now?' inquired Duncan of the maid who came to the gate.
'He has been here, Master Campbell,' she replied, 'but he's gone off as fast as his legs can carry him, and he's taken mistress's new thermometer with him that hung on the south wall, and he's trampled over all the beds, and Mrs. Western she saw him from the window; and your pa' was passing, so she called him in; but the boy made off, and it'll be a wonder if the police are not sent for. They're a bad set, those Middletons.'
Duncan's eyes grew round with excitement, and Seymour, who was rather timid, began to cry. He wanted to run home again, but Duncan considered such a proceeding cowardly; and while they were debating the point, Dr. Campbell saw them, and called to them to come in.
'Who sent Bob here for the gravel?' he inquired.
'Johnnie sent him; Honorius said he might,' replied Duncan.
'Of course they never thought how the boy would behave,' said kind old Mrs. Western. 'I daresay they didn't know he wasn't a fit person to be trusted.'
'They might have known,' said Dr. Campbell; 'Johnnie at least has heard me say that Bob was ripe for any mischief, and he knows I refused to let him take him out fishing with him. If Honorius had told me of your kind present, I would have sent some proper person for the gravel.'
'Honorius did say Mrs. Western had promised us some gravel after dinner, papa, but you were just going out, and I suppose you didn't hear him,' said Duncan. 'He didn't like sending Bob much, but we didn't know who else to get.'
'You should have asked,' began his father; but seeing that Seymour was frightened, he checked himself, saying, 'It's no blame to you little ones; I don't suppose you had anything to do with it. Run away home if you like.'
'Oh, but let Sarah cut you a piece of cake first,' said Mrs. Western. 'My dear (to Seymour), don't fret; you shall have the gravel all the same.'
Mrs. Western's maid brought them out two large slices of pound-cake, which, after they had thanked their kind old friend, they took away with them, Seymour beginning directly to munch at his slice, while Duncan put his into his pocket.
'Papa didn't say we must go home,' he observed,—'he only said we might if we liked; so you can go, and I'll try and find Bob, and tell him I'll give him this piece of cake if he'll give back the thermometer. I'm so afraid, if he doesn't, Johnnie'll get into trouble; and besides, it's so wicked to steal.'
'Yes,' said Seymour with his mouth full of cake; 'and I'll tell you what, Duncan,' reluctantly but firmly, 'you may take the rest of my piece too.'
Duncan, however, declined this, and trudged away, resolutely resisting, as he went along, the temptation to eat even a crumb of his own delicious-looking slice. He soon arrived at Mrs. Middleton's cottage, but of course Bob was not there; and his mother, who was a widow, and supported herself by washing, came to the door with her arms covered with soap-suds, and after hastily answering that 'Bob was nowhere's about, plunged them in the wash-tub again, and took no more heed of Duncan. He hesitated whether to tell her about the thermometer or not, but had been so impressed with the naughtiness of 'telling tales,' that he could not make up his mind it could be right, even in this case, and so turned away and ran back to the desert, where he found his father speaking to Honorius and Johnnie.
'Didn't you remember, boys, what I said about Bob when you wanted to take him out fishing with you?' he was asking.
'It was to me you said it; Honorius was not in the room,' Johnnie said quickly.
'Very well, then, you at any rate knew my opinion of Bob Middleton, and must have known that you were doing wrong in employing him without my leave.'
'I didn't think,' said Lackland carelessly.
'Then I must teach you to think. Put down your spade and go into the house, and up to your room.'
There was no mistaking Dr. Campbell's manner now; even Johnnie was obliged to perceive the displeasure he had provoked: he stuck his spade into the ground, and turned towards the house.
Duncan dashed after him. 'Here, Johnnie, take this piece of cake. Mrs. Western gave it to me; it's so good—do have it, see!'
Lackland was by no means too miserable to appreciate this attempt at consolation. 'It looks jolly,' he said, 'but I won't take it all; you must have half yourself, Duncan,' and he broke it in two.
Duncan would rather his brother should have had the whole, but he was glad to see him munching the half even so contentedly. 'Do you think I may go up into your room with you?' he inquired.
'No, no; papa didn't mean that, I'm sure. Don't stop me, old fellow; good-bye,' and Johnnie ran off and up to his room as fast as he could go. He had not been there more than five minutes, when there was a sound of little toddling steps along the passage, and two fat hands came drumming on the door. 'What do you want, baby?' said Johnnie, rising and opening it.
'I want to tiss 'oo,' answered the child, lifting up his chubby face.
Johnnie bent down and kissed him, asking, 'How did you know I was here, Georgie?'
'Ma heard 'oo tome up 'tairs; ma say what matter wis 'oo?'
'Tell her papa sent me up,' faltered Johnnie; 'or stay, say——'
'I say 'oo naughty,' said Georgie, whose infantine mind had already jumped to the right conclusion. He scampered off with this message, but speedily returned: 'Ma say she vezy sorry; ma say I may tiss 'oo again.'
'I wish I might go to her,' thought Johnnie, and in his softened mood the little brother's kisses were so sweet to him, that he could scarcely make up his mind to let Georgie go. But he did, and stepped back resolutely into his room, while the little one, announcing, 'I going to tea now,' trotted off again down the passage. Meantime Honorius was showing his father the scarlet geraniums that Johnnie had bought with his half-crown, and expatiating on the quantity of digging he had got through, although, being occupied with Cæsar, he had not had so much time to spend in the desert as the others.
'Poor fellow! Well, he has behaved much better than I thought,' said Dr. Campbell relentingly. 'I'm afraid I was rather hard on him just now; that's the worst of being too hasty.'
Of all things, Honorius could not bear that his father should reproach himself. 'I'm sure Johnnie admits that he was in fault about Bob, papa,' he said.
'And do you know I've got a bright idea about Bob and the thermometer, papa,' said Willie. 'May I go as far as Farmer Merryman's field and back? I won't be long.'
'Certainly you may, if it's necessary for the development of your bright idea, Willie; but make haste home to tea. And you, boys, come in with me; if you're not hungry, I am.'
In the strength of his bright idea Willie ran along like a greyhound; moreover, it was pleasant to feel how completely his father trusted him. He went across the fields till he came to Farmer Merryman's pond, which was overhung by a willow-tree, whose branches were thick enough to afford a tempting seat: it was a lonely place, and a favourite resort of Bob's, as Willie well knew; and here he hoped to find him. Was he there? Yes—no—yes! and Willie almost shouted with delight, but restrained himself, and advanced cautiously to the foot of the tree. 'Bob,' he said softly, 'Bob, I want to speak to you, please.'
Bob gave a violent start, and looked down rather savagely at the adventurous child who had discovered his hiding-place. 'What d'ye come prying here for?' he asked rudely.
'I came to ask you to give back Mrs. Western's thermometer,' said Willie; 'and my brother Johnnie says he's quite sure you didn't mean to steal it.'
'No more I did; what's the worth of it to me? I'd only taken it down just to look at it, like, when out came those maids a-storming and a-scolding, and vowed they'd fetch the justice; so I made off, and took the 'mometer with me, for I hadn't had half a look at it.'
'Oh, but you've done with it now, so do take it back,' pleaded Willie urgently.
'Don't you wish you may get it? You'd like to see me make such a fool of myself, wouldn't you?'
'Well, then, let me take it, and I'll tell Mrs. Western how it was, and ask her not to be angry with you. If you give it me, I'll give you the shilling that you were to have had when you fetched all the gravel: of course you can't fetch any more of it for us now, but we would rather you had the shilling. I'm so glad you didn't mean to steal.'
Bob calmly surveyed the flushed, eager face that was turned up to his. 'It's you that's to be the parson, ain't it?' he said mockingly.
Willie made no reply, but folded his arms and leant back against the tree, looking such a perfect little gentleman, that some dim perception of his own impertinence flashed upon Bob's eccentric mind.
'It worn't all on my account you comed along here, was it?' he inquired.
'No; partly on Mrs. Western's, and partly on my brother Johnnie's. Papa is displeased with him for having sent you for the gravel; and, Bob, you know Johnnie trusted you.'
Bob grinned, and Willie felt that the appeal to his sense of honour had failed; but, though very impertinent and mischievous, he was not a thoroughly bad boy, and now swung himself down from the tree, bringing the thermometer with him.
'If I give it to you, you must promise not to tell where you found me,' he said; 'I won't have other folks prying after me here.'
'I won't tell Mrs. Western, if that's what you mean,' said Willie; 'and I'll ask her to forgive you.'
'CAN'T HELP THAT,—HERE GOES.'
See page 52.
'My! you may do as you like about that. I ain't in such a hurry to be forgiven. But what I mean is, you ain't to tell your father nor nobody where you found me.'
'I must tell papa if he asks me,' said Willie.
'Then you shan't have the 'mometer; I'll pitch it into the pond.'
'That would be wicked,' said undaunted Willie, 'for it does not belong to you.'
'Can't help that; here goes,' and he held it over the edge of the pond. 'It'll be in in another minute if you don't say you'll not tell your father.'
'I shan't tell him if he doesn't say I am to; but if he does, I must.'
'Why must you?'
'Because I must obey him, even when I'd rather not; it's right.'
'That beats all,' said Bob in unbounded surprise; but he didn't throw the thermometer into the pond. It was some time, however, before Willie could persuade him to give it up, though at length he did, and received the shilling, observing,
'I could ha' took this from you if I'd liked, and kep' the 'mometer too; but I ain't a thief, let folks say what they please.'
'No, I know you're not,' said Willie. 'Oh, Bob, if you would only——'
'What?' said Bob; 'you hadn't no call to stop just then. I thought you was a-going to make a fine speech.'
'No, I mustn't.'
'Mustn't what?'
'Mustn't lecture; mamma won't ever let me. There are other people to teach you.'
'They did teach me a lot,—parson did, and schoolmaster did; but I got tired of it, and now I'm too big to go to school. But I'm thinking of looking out for a bit of work.'
'Oh do, do, please; we should be so glad.'
'If you ain't the funniest little gentleman!' said Bob with increasing astonishment. 'But I kind o' like you too, I ha' been thinkin' o' taking a turn for the better, as they say, lately; but bless you, not even my mother would believe I was in earnest, so who is there to care if I do?'
'Seven Campbells,' said Willie; and then, fearing this was not quite the truth, he added, 'No, Georgie is too young to care, but all the rest of us would be glad, Bob;' and when he had said this he ran home. His arrival with the thermometer caused great delight to all his brothers, and Dr. Campbell called Lackland down to hear the good news, saying kindly, 'You have had opportunity for a little thought, Johnnie, my man, and I hope will be more careful not to act contrary to my known wishes another time; so now come and help us to rejoice over the recovery of poor Mrs. Western's thermometer.' Johnnie came, nothing loth, pausing, however, to ask, 'May I speak to mamma first? She heard me come up-stairs.'
Permission was given, and after a preliminary tap the bonnie face peeped into the sickroom. 'All right, dear little mother: I was rather in a scrape just now, but papa has forgiven me, and I'm going down-stairs again. Good-night, dear mamma.' The white curtains of the bed were drawn aside for one minute, and the sweet motherly eyes looked out at him.
'Good-night, and thank you for coming to me, my darling boy; only remember'—very gently—'a pardoned fault needn't be a forgotten one, Johnnie.'
'No, mamma.' There was a momentary quiver in the gay, ringing voice, and it was quite enough for the mother. 'That will do; I can trust you not to forget this time, Johnnie,' she said, and with a happy smile she lay down to sleep.
