“And that’s your thanks, Peter, my darlin’ for not biting him, to have him scrunch down upon you, as if you war a cat,” she exclaimed; then, turning suddenly upon poor Richard, she commanded him to eat at once, and be done with it, and not stand there aggravating her, and murdering her dog.
At first Richard ate with a feeling of disgust; but the bread was good, and he was hungry. Peter seated himself before the lad, rising every second moment on his haunches, and making little twitching movements with his fore-paws: Richard gave him a piece of the crumb.
“Look at that, now,” said Matty; “ye’ just give the poor innocent baste the crumb, because ye’ don’t like it ye’rself.”
Richard presented him with a bit of the crisp brown crust.
“See, now, if that brat of a boy ain’t trying already to break every tooth in the creature’s head with his crusts.”
Richard finished without offering Peter another morsel.
“Well!” ejaculated his tormentor, “if ever I saw such a selfish boy of yer age, and that’s speaking volumes, as master says; not to give the brute the last crumb, for good luck; but some has no nature in ’em; and the poor baste bobbing at you, as if you had never scrooged him into a pancake. There, go along, do; and, harkee! if you run the window-bars through the glass, you’ll have to pay for every pane you break: and mind the trap that’s over the cellar: but sure you war here before, when I was sick. Ah! I dare say you’ll go off in consumption, just as the last boy did: it’s all along the smell of the old books, and the ile of the papers, to say nothing of the gas. I wonder how master and I live through it; but it wont be for long, I’m certain of that; I’m a poor fading-away crature.”
As Richard ran up the dark stairs, he could not avoid turning to look at the “fading-away crature.” The cheerful blaze of the fire threw her figure into strong light, and her shadow on the wall grew up into the ceiling. She recalled all Richard had ever heard of “ogres”—so gaunt, and strong, and terrible—tremendous people who trouble the world forever, and never die.
Richard entered the shop with the feeling of a governor going to take the command of a new province. Could it be absolutely real, that he was the appointed messenger to go in and out, backward and forward, amongst such a multitude of books! To him the store seemed more than ever immense. Surely Mr. Whitelock must have added hundreds to his hundreds since he stood upon that threshold to help the poor dying boy. He recalled the feeling of awe with which he regarded that dingy interior; he thought Mr. Whitelock must be the happiest man in the world, not only to live amongst so many books, but to be their absolute owner; he wondered how he could bear to sell them: he resolved to count them; and thrilled from head to foot at the new-born pleasure—even in anticipation—that perhaps he might be permitted to read them. There was a delight; to read every one of the books that filled these shelves! But then came the thought that, however delicious it would be to get all that knowledge into his head, it would do his mother no real good, unless he could put the knowledge so acquired in practice: yes, put it in practice, to make money and means sufficient to keep his mother—his loving, tender, gentle mother—who seemed threatened with a terrible affliction; to keep her from want—from cold—from every apprehension of distress. Richard never stood idly to muse: no, he thought. His thoughts were active—strong, too, for a boy of his years; and they came abundantly while he occupied himself with his duties; fine, healthy, earnest thoughts they were—sanctified by an unexpressed, yet fervent, prayer to the Almighty, to bless his mother, and to prosper his own exertions for her happiness.
There is something most holy and beautiful in the attachment between mother and son: it is not always so tender or so enduring as the love between mother and daughter; but when circumstances arise to call forth the affections of a large-hearted, lonely boy toward his mother, there can be no feeling more intense or more devoted.