Uncle Joe's Stories

by Baron Edward Hugessen Knatchbull-Hugessen Brabourne

All that night the boy could scarcely sleep for thinking over the extraordinary things that had happened. He tossed uneasily to and fro, then got up and drank some water, then laid down in one particular position, and determined to remain just so until he did get to sleep—then changed his mind and turned quite round to try another position, and altogether managed to have such a restless and uncomfortable night as seldom falls to the share of a boy of his age and good health.

At last morning came, and Thomas, the footman, called him as usual, wondering again that his young master never wished him "good morning," or asked him if it was a fine day, as he almost always did. Philip dressed and came down to prayers and breakfast, according to his father's rule, or otherwise he would have slipped out of the house and kept away all day, until the time of his silence should be past. It was a great trial to him that morning, for his parents were both evidently vexed with him, and could not understand the meaning of his silence.

His father spoke so sharply to him that the tears came into his eyes, but his mother again interceded for him, and as soon as breakfast was over he stole away to take refuge in the garden.

Here again he had difficulties to encounter, for the gardener came to ask him some question about the rolling of the cricket-ground, about which Philip was always very anxious, and it was exceedingly tiresome not to be able to answer him, especially as this was the head gardener, and anyone who has ever had anything to do with such people, knows that they are personages of dignity and position, with whom it is never safe to trifle. So the boy knew that he ran no small chance of having his cricket-ground altogether neglected if he offended Mr. Collyflower, and would not have run the risk on any account, had not the recovery of his sister been of paramount importance.

Next he sauntered into the park, where the gamekeeper presently appeared to take his wishes as to a hawk's nest which he had found, and the eggs of which he thought he could get, if so be that Master Philip would fancy to have them.

It seemed both uncivil and ungrateful to give no answer, but he felt the whole weight of his responsibility and said never a word. But his worst trial was yet to come.

Flora Malcolm, a young lady who lived near, and of whom Philip was particularly fond, rode over to luncheon that day, and wanted him to ride part of the way back with her. She was astonished at his silence and at his diet at luncheon, and rallied him considerably upon both. Yet the boy held his tongue.

Most fortunately for him, his father had again gone off to renew his search after the lost girl, for had he been at luncheon, I think it more than probable that he would have resorted to some of those paternal remedies for filial disobedience which would have rendered poor Philip extremely uncomfortable, even if it had not ended in his disobeying the injunction of the fairy queen, and so losing Evelyn for ever.

Flora's raillery was hard to bear, but after a while she ceased, and being a clever girl, took it into her head that there might be a reason for his silence which she could not understand. For be it observed that there is no more certain sign of cleverness than when a person is able to feel and realise that there may be some things above and beyond his or her comprehension. For the generality of people think they can understand anything and everything, and that what they cannot comprehend is sure to be absurd, unreasonable, and foolish, whereas in all probability these are the epithets which should in reality be applied to themselves.

Flora took a different view, and being goodnatured moreover, left off teasing Philip when she perceived that it was no joke with him, but that there was something serious as well as singular in his proceeding. She had to ride back alone, poor girl, for Philip shook his head when she suggested that he should join her, and of course she could say no more. She did not stay long after luncheon, finding the distress in which the family were plunged, and as soon as she was gone, the boy again betook himself to the garden, and got through the afternoon without a word.