On reaching home, he told his parents the circumstances connected with his expulsion. He also added that he wouldn’t go to school any more; at all events, he wouldn’t go back to “yon school.” He would rather go to work. He was told that he was too young to work; for he was scarcely six years old. His father proposed to take him to the Lancaster school on the following day, for the purpose of inducing the master to take back the boy.
A NIGHT UNDER THE LOGS.
The next day arrived. His father came home from his work for the purpose of taking the boy to school; but Tom had disappeared. He would not go back. He went first to the fish-market, where he spent the greater part of the day. Then he went down to the Inches. From thence he went towards the logs, and whilst there with a few more boys preparing sparrow-traps, one of them called out “Tam, there’s yer faither!” Tom immediately got up, and ran away; his father, following him, called out “Stop, sir! stop, sir! come back, come back, will you!” Tom’s father was a long slender man, and could not stand much running. He soon dropt behind, while Tom went out Deeside way like a lamplighter. He never stopped until he reached the Clayholes. Not seeing his father following him, he loitered about there until it was nearly dark; he then returned, keeping a close look-out and ready to run off again. At length, about dark, he got back to the logs.
It must be mentioned that on the spare ground above the Inches large piles of logs were laid, some of them of great size. The logs were floated down the Dee, and were laid there until the timber merchants found it convenient to take them away. Little care being exercised in putting up the piles, there were often large openings left at the ends. Instead of going home, the boy got into one of these openings, and crept in as far as he could get. But though he was in a measure out of sight, he soon found that he could obtain very little shelter for the night. He was barefooted, and his clothes were thin and raggy. The wind blew through the logs, and he soon became very cold. He shivered till his teeth chattered. The squeaking and jumping of the rats, of whom there seemed to be myriads, kept him awake. It was so different from being snug in his warm bed, that he once thought of getting out of his hole and running home. But he was terrified to do that, and thus encounter his father’s strap,—his back being still so sore from the effects of his flogging at school. The cold continued to increase, especially towards the small hours of the morning. Indeed, he never experienced so bitterly cold a night in the whole course of his life.
A FRUITLESS SEARCH.
At length morning began to dawn. The first streaks of light were tinging the eastern sky, when Tom prepared to get out of his hole and have a run in the open ground to warm himself. He was creeping out of the logs for the purpose, when in the dim morning light he thought he saw the figure of a man. Yes! it was his father. He saw him moving about, among the sawpits, the logs, and the piles of wood. Tom crept farther into his hole among the logs; and on looking out again, he found his father had disappeared. Half-an-hour later he appeared again; and after going over the former ground, he proceeded in the direction of the Inches. In a few minutes he descended to the channel, doubtless with the intention of crossing, as the tide was out at the time.
EDWARD’S RETURN HOME.
Now, thought Tom, is my opportunity. He crept out of his hole, went round the farther end of the logs, up Lower Dee Street, past the carpet-weaver’s, up Carmelite Street, and then home. Just as he reached the top of the stair, Mrs. Kelman, the kindly “neibour,” who had been kept up all night by the troubles of the Edward family, took him by the collar, and said, “Eh, laddie, ye hae gien yer folk a sair nicht o’t! But bide a wee, I’ll gang in wi’ ye!” As she entered the door, she exclaimed, “Here he’s again, Maggie, a’ safe!” “Oh, ye vagaboon,” said the mother, “where hae ye been a’ nicht? Yer faither’s oot seekin’ ye. I wonder how I can keep my hands aff ye.” “No, no, Maggie,” said Mrs. Kelman, “ye winna do that. But I’ll tell ye what ye’ll do. Gie him some meat, and let him get to his bed as fast as he can.” “His bed?” said his mother, “he shanna bed here till his faither comes in.” “Just gie him something, Maggie, and get him oot o’ the road.” After some parleying, Tom got something to eat, and was in bed, with the blankets over him, before his father returned.
“Weel, John,” said Mrs. Kelman, “ye hinna gotten him?” “No.” “Ye hinna gaun to the right place!” “The right place!” said John, “who on earth could tell the right place for such a wandering Jew as he is?” “Weel, I’ve got him.” “Where?” “At the head o’ the stair!” “And where is he now?” “Where he should be.” “That’s in Bridewell!” “No, no, John, dinna say that.” “Where, then?” “In his bed.” “What! here? And before I have paid him for his night’s work?” “Now, John, just sit doun and hae a cup o’ tea wi’ Maggie and me before you go to your wark; and if ye hae onything to say to the laddie, ye can say it when he gets up.” “You always take his part, Mrs. Kelman, always!”
Tom lay quaking in bed. He heard all that was said. He peeped out of the blankets; but when he saw his father sit down, he knew that all was safe. And when he had his friendly cup o’ tea, and went to his work, Tom fell fast asleep. He did not awake until midday, when his father returned to dinner. Being observed to move in his bed, his father ordered him to get up. This set him a-crying, and he exclaimed that “he wudna gang back to yon school.” His mother now asked the reason why he was so bitter against going to “yon school.” He then told them how he had been treated by the master, and how his back was sore yet.