*CHAPTER V.*
*JIM STARTS WORK.*
It wanted ten minutes to nine, and the Deanery boys were pouring intothe playground, ready to assemble for morning school. Percy Braithwaitestood just inside the gate talking to a little group of his chums. Hewas a good-looking, fair-skinned boy, with sharp, keen eyes. Somehow hewas not a favourite with the majority, but as his father kept him wellsupplied with pocket-money, he generally had a certain following whichpetted and made much of him.
"I had a jolly lark this morning," he was saying. "What d'you thinkJimmy Hartland's doing? You'd never guess! He's selling papers. Hebrought ours round just now, and I answered the door. You'd have diedto see him: he went as red as a turkey-cock.
"'Hullo!' said I--'a fresh paper-boy? You're very late. This won't do,you know. Tell your master if you can't come earlier than this we shallhave to make a change.'"
"Did you really say that?" asked Simpson, who was sucking one ofBraithwaite's bull's-eyes. "He would be wild. The beggar's as proud asLucifer."
"I don't see why he shouldn't sell papers," said Alec Macdonald."There's nothing to be ashamed of in that."
"Perhaps not for fellows of his class," said Braithwaite, with asuperior air, "but fancy a paper-boy trying for the 'Gayton'! Why, ifhe got it, all the school would cut him dead. I call it a great pieceof cheek."
"Here he comes with the Angel," whispered Simpson, who had finished hisbull's-eye, and was hoping to get another before the bell rang. "I say,let's have a lark!" And raising his voice, he cried, "Hevenin' Noos!Hextry Speshul! Paper, sir?"
The others burst into a roar of laughter; and Braithwaite, who thoughtit an excellent joke, laughed the loudest of all.
The Angel, scenting mischief, laid hold of his chum's arm, saying,--
"Don't take any notice, Jim; it's only the 'Dandy' and his gang."
This was an unfortunate remark, as it would have been safer just then towave a red flag before a bull than to mention Braithwaite's name to Jim.He was hot and tired and cross, angry with himself and the world ingeneral, and with Braithwaite in particular. The incident of the morninghad upset him, and this mocking laughter was, as Dick afterwards said,"the last straw that broke the camel's back."
"Want a hextry, sir? Take the last one!"
Simpson was fairly earning another bull's-eye.
Jim's face was white with passion as he strode over to the group, in themidst of which Braithwaite stood laughing. Blinded by anger, he did notstay to ask questions, but crying, "You beastly cad!" let out straightfrom the shoulder.
The Angel, though rather alarmed, could not resist the chance of a joke.
"That's a drop of _hextry speshul_ claret!" he sang out, as the bloodspurted from Braithwaite's nose.
Instantly there arose a babel of voices.
"Give him one back, Dandy!"
"Off with your coat; I'll hold it!"
"Who has a spare handkerchief?"
I trust my readers are not thirsting for a description of a fight,because in that case they will be disappointed. In the midst of thehubbub the bell sounded, and the boys went to their places, Simpsonleading his friend along, and making a great show of the blood-stainedhandkerchief.
The injured boy, who was in the same class as Jim and Dick, at onceattracted the attention of Mr. Laythorne, who asked what had happened.
"If you please, sir," said Braithwaite, "I was standing just inside thegate when Hartland came along and hit me on the nose."
"Is this correct, Hartland?"
"He called me names, so I hit him, sir," answered Jim sulkily. "AndI'll hit him again, too, if he cheeks me."
"I am sorry to hear you talk in that way," said the young master calmly."Go to your place now, and stay behind during the interval.--Boden, takethat boy to the lavatory."
"Yes, sir," responded the Angel cheerfully, taking Braithwaite, not tootenderly, by the arm.
Everything went wrong that morning with Jim. He made the most stupidmistakes in class, and behaved so badly that Mr. Laythorne felt sorelytempted to send him to the head-master. He was kept in during theinterval, and again at noon, and accordingly looked on himself as amartyr. When he at last got out, the playground was empty except forDick, who would never have dreamed of going without his chum.
"Get your face straight, old man," cried he; "it's as long as a fiddle.I wish I had a looking-glass, so that you could see yourself. Think ofthe milkmen down your way! You'll turn all their milk sour!"
Jim stalked across the playground without deigning to reply.
"Whew!" whistled the Angel; "you ought to be marked _dangerous_, like amagazine. No wonder Laythorne was afraid to keep you inside any longer.But I say, Jim, that was a lovely tap you gave Braithwaite. He asked meif I thought his nose was broken."
"I'll break his head next time!" said Jim savagely.
The Angel clapped him on the back.
"There's nothing like making a good job of a thing while you're at it,"he said. "Going up the lane? All right. I'll call for you afterdinner. And take that frown off your face, or you'll frighten Susie intoa fit."
Mrs. Hartland saw there was something the matter with the boy, buthappily she did not worry him about it, and by the time Dick called hewas almost himself again.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, mother," he said as he was going out, "youneedn't wait tea for me. I'm going to have mine at the shop. It willsave time, Mr. Broad says."
"Have you to work all the evening, Jim?" asked Dick as they went downthe street.
"No, I shall be home by eight."
"That doesn't leave you much time."
"Oh, I shall manage. Laythorne is taking all the subjects at school,and I can get in at least two hours extra every day."
As it happened, Jim found in a short time that he was reckoning withouthis book.
At the close of afternoon school Jim stepped up to the master's desk.
"Do you wish to speak to me?" asked Mr. Laythorne, looking rathersurprised.
"Yes, sir," replied Jim bravely. "I want to beg your pardon for myrudeness this morning. Things seemed to go quite wrong somehow, and Iwas in a bad temper."
"It's very manly to come forward of your own account like this," saidMr. Laythorne pleasantly, "and it does you credit. But you must learnto govern your temper, Hartland, or it will bring you into mischief.How are you getting on for the 'Gayton'? Don't forget that if I canhelp you in any way I shall be pleased to do so."
"Thank you, sir," replied Jim brightly. "I am hoping to make a goodfight for it."
He left the room in good spirits, stopped a minute or two in theplayground to chat with Dick, and then ran off to town.
"'Twill be a scramble," he thought to himself, "but I'll pull through.I can put in from half-past eight till ten at night, and from five tillhalf-past six in the morning, besides an hour at dinner-time. Thatought to be enough, and five shillings a week will be very useful tomother."
"Pretty punctual, my boy," said the stationer as Jim entered the shop."I like to see that. Your tea's ready in the kitchen. When you'vefinished I've something here for you to do."
"Yes, sir," said Jim.
Eager to do his best, and being a smart, intelligent boy, he created afavourable impression at once. Mr. Broad was delighted with him; andthat night after closing time, he told his wife that the new boy was atreasure.
"You had better wait a bit before you judge," she replied. "Don'tforget that new brooms sweep clean."
Mr. Broad laughed, admitted there was a great deal of truth in theproverb, but all the same maintained his opinion.
Meanwhile Jim had gone home, eaten his supper, and settled down to work.To win this Gayton Scholarship was his one idea, and if he failed itwould not be for want of trying. He had heard of the sneer about apaper-boy going in for the "Gayton," and it nettled him.
"I'll beat Perce Braithwaite, anyhow!" he said to himself.
This was the spur that goaded him on, and all that week he devoted everyminute of his spare time to study.
"Don't bury yourself too deep," advised the Angel, who, on the Fridayevening, walked a part of the way with him, "or we mayn't be able to digyou up again."
"Oh, I'm all right," laughed Jim. "I shall cut you out, Dicky, my boy.I've made a big move this week."
"Glad to hear it," said the Angel cheerfully. "It's the history thatbothers me most. I get mixed with the dates and things. I don't thinkhistory ought to count: it's mostly rubbish, anyway. Who wants to knowabout the old kings, and when they lived, and when they died, and whotheir grandfathers were?"
"Or the Provisions of Oxford," added Jim slyly; at which his churnroared with laughter, though the joke was against himself.
Not long before, Mr. Laythorne had asked his class to name the"Provisions of Oxford," whereupon the Angel, though rather astonished atsuch a simple question, replied blandly, "The chief provisions ofOxford, like those of other English towns, are bread, meat, all kinds ofvegetables, poultry, fish--" And he only pulled up when the suppressedtitter of his classmates broke into uncontrollable laughter.
"Laythorne told the Head of that," said Dick, when he had recovered hisbreath, "and it went the round of the masters. They chaffed me about itat the cricket match; but I don't call it a fair question. I hope Ishan't come a cropper like that at the 'Gayton.' Well, I'm off. Seeyou Sunday." And leaving his chum at the shop door, he went awaywhistling.
That night when Jim was leaving, Mr. Broad said, "I shall want you to doa double round in the morning, and to stay till ten o'clock in theevening."
"Yes, sir," said the boy, though he was sorry at having to lose his owntime.
"But you won't be wanted in the middle of the day," continued hismaster. "As soon as you have finished in the morning you can go tilltea-time."
"Oh," said Jim, brightening, "that will be capital," and at onceresolved to use the extra time for study. He felt very tired on theSaturday night, but his heart was light and his face smiling when he gothome. As a great treat Susie had been allowed to stay up, and Mrs.Hartland had prepared a tasty if cheap supper.
"This is prime!" exclaimed Jim, sniffing at the savoury odour, "and I'mas hungry as a hunter. But, first of all, you had better take my wages,mother." And he put down a tiny pile of silver on the table with theair of a millionaire.
"There's too much here by sixpence," said Mrs. Hartland, counting thecoins. "Your master has made a mistake."
"It's all right, mother," replied Jim proudly; "he gave me an extrasixpence for doing my work so well."
"O Jim!" cried Susie, "isn't it splendid? Fancy earning all thatmoney!"
"It will come in handy," said he, "and in a few months I shall be ableto earn more. But while we're chattering the supper's getting cold.Sit down mother. You look tired to death."
"Mother's been sewing all day, and the fine work hurts her eyes,"observed Susie.
"I'm not as young as I was," remarked their mother, trying to laugh,"and my eyes feel the strain more."
"When I'm a bit older you won't need to work at all," said Jim, whomeant what he said. "I'll earn enough for us all."
They lingered a long while over the simple meal, and then Jim helped hismother to carry Susie to her bedroom.
"I shan't call you early in the morning," said Mrs. Hartland, as Jimkissed her good-night; "I think you've earned a rest."
"I wish that horrid exam. was over!" cried Susie; "then you'd have moretime to yourself."
The Gayton Scholarship: A School Story Page 5