Bert Lloyd's Boyhood: A Story from Nova Scotia

by Madeline Leslie

  CHAPTER IV.

  OFF TO THE COUNTRY.

  The letter which came in such good time to relieve Mrs. Lloyd from thedifficulty about Bert's fondness for the guardroom and its hurtfulinfluences, was from her father, and contained an invitation so pressingas to be little short of a demand, for her to pay him a long visit atthe old homestead, bringing Bert with her.

  Mrs. Lloyd very readily and gladly accepted the invitation. Midsummerwas near at hand. She had not visited her old home for some years. Herfather and mother were ageing fast; and then, naturally enough, she waseager to show them what a fine boy Bert was growing to be.

  When Bert heard of it he showed the utmost delight. Three years before,he had spent a summer at grandfather's; but, then, of course, he was tooyoung to do more than be impressed by the novelty of his surroundings.The huge oxen, the noisy pigs, the spirited horses, even the clumsylittle calves, bewildered, if they did not alarm him. But now he feltold enough to enjoy them all; and the very idea of going back to themfilled him with joy, to which he gave expression after his ownboisterous fashion.

  "Mother, are we going to grandfather's to-morrow?" he would eagerly ask,day after day, his little heart throbbing with impatience.

  "We're going soon, Bert dear. You must be patient, you know," his motherwould gently reply; and the little fellow would make a very heroiceffort to control himself.

  At length the day of departure arrived. Too full of importance and greatexpectations to manifest a proper amount of sorrow at leaving his fatherand sister, who felt very reluctant, indeed, to part with him, MasterBert took his place in the cab and drove up to the railway station.Hardly had he entered it than he made a dash for the train, climbed upon the rear platform with the agility of a monkey, much to the amusementof the conductor, whose proffer of assistance he entirely ignored; andwhen Mr. Lloyd entered the train a minute later, he found hisenterprising son seated comfortably upon a central seat, and evidentlyquite ready for the train to start.

  "Would you go away without saying good-bye to your father and to Mary?"asked Mr. Lloyd, in a deeply reproachful tone.

  Bert blushed violently on being thus reminded of his apparentselfishness and, with the threat of a tear in his eye, was about tomake some sort of a defence, when his father put him all right again bysaying brightly:

  "Never mind, my boy. It isn't every day you go off on ahundred-and-fifty-miles' journey. Mary and I will forgive you forforgetting us this time, won't we, Mary?"

  The lunch basket, the wraps, and their other belongings were placed onthe seat, the engine whistled, "all aboard," the bell rang, theconductor shouted, affectionate farewells were hastily exchanged, andpresently the train rolled noisily out of the dark station into thebright sunshine; and Bert, leaning from the window, caught a lastglimpse of his father and sister as they stood waving the handkerchiefswhich one of them, at least, could not refrain from putting to anotheruse, as the last car swept round the turn and vanished.

  But Bert was in no mood for tears. In fact, he never felt less likeanything of the kind. He felt much more disposed to shout aloud for veryjoy, and probably would have done so, but for the restraining influenceexercised by the presence of the other passengers, of whom there were agood many in the carriage. As it was, he gave vent to his excitedfeelings by being as restless as a mosquito, and asking his mother asmany questions as his active brain could invent.

  "You'll be tired out by mid-day, Bert, if you go on at this rate," saidhis mother, in gentle warning.

  "Oh, no, I won't, mother; I won't get tired. See! What's that funny bigthing with the long legs in that field?"

  "That's a frame for a hay stack, I think. You'll see plenty of those atgrandfather's."

  "And what's that queer thing with arms sticking out from that building?"

  "That's a wind-mill. When the wind blows hard those arms go round, andturn machinery inside the barn."

  "And has grandpapa got a wind-mill, mother?"

  "Yes; he has one on his big barn."

  "Oh, I'm so glad; I can watch it going round, and stand quite close,can't I?"

  "Yes, but take care not to go too close to the machinery. It might hurtyou very much, you know."

  And so it went on all through the morning. Mrs. Lloyd would have likedvery much to read a little in an interesting book she had brought withher, but what with watching Bert's restless movements, and answering hisincessant questions, there seemed slight hope of her succeeding in thisuntil, after they had been a couple of hours on their journey, agood-natured gentleman on the opposite seat, who had finished his paper,and had nothing particular to do, took in the situation and came to herrelief.

  "Won't you come over and keep me company for a while, my little man?" hesaid, pleasantly, leaning across the seat. "I will try and answer allyour questions for you."

  Bert looked curiously at the speaker, and then, the inspection provingsatisfactory, inquiringly at his mother. She nodded her assent, soforthwith he ran over to his new friend, and climbed up beside him. Hewas given the corner next the window, and while his bright eyes took ineverything as the train sped on, his tongue wagged no less swiftly asquestion followed question in quick succession. Mrs. Lloyd, thoroughlyat ease now, returned to her book with a grateful sigh of relief, and anhour slipped away, at the end of which Bert's eyes grew heavy withsleep. He no longer was interested in the scenery; and at last, after agallant struggle, his curly head fell over on the cushion, and he wentinto a deep sleep, from which he did not waken until at mid-day thetrain drew up at the station, beyond which they could not go by rail.

  "Come, Bert, wake up! We must get out here," cried his mother, shakinghim vigorously.

  Rubbing his eyes hard, yawning as though he would put his jaws out ofjoint, and feeling very uncomfortable generally, Bert neverthelessmanaged to pull himself together sufficiently to thank the gentleman whohad been so kind to him, before he followed his mother out of the car.

  They had dinner at Thurso, and by the time it was ready Bert was readytoo. He had been altogether too much excited at breakfast time to eatmuch then, but he made up for it now. Mrs. Lloyd laughed as he askedagain and again for more, but she did not check him. She knew very wellthat the contented frame of mind produced by a good dinner was just theright thing with which to enter upon the second part of their journey.This was to be by coach, and as even the best of coaches is a prettycramped sort of an affair unless you have it all to yourself, thequieter Bert was disposed to be the better for all concerned.

  "What are we to ride in now, mother?" asked Bert, after the vacancyunderneath his blue blouse had been sufficiently filled to dispose himto conversation.

  "In a big red coach, dear, with six fine horses to draw us," answeredMrs. Lloyd.

  "Oh, mother, won't that be splendid? And may I sit up with the driver?"

  "Perhaps you may, for a little while, anyway, if he will let you."

  "Hooray!" cried Bert, clapping his hands with delight; "I'm sure thedriver will let me, if you'll only ask him. You will, won't you,mother?"

  "Yes, I will, after we get out of the town. But you must wait until Ithink it's the right time to ask him."

  "I'll wait, mother, but don't you forget."

  Forget! There was much likelihood of Mrs. Lloyd forgetting with thislively young monkey before her as a constant reminder.

  They had just finished dinner, when, with clatter of hoofs, rattle ofsprings, and crush of gravel under the heavy wheels, the great Concordcoach drew up before the hotel door in dashing style.

  Bert was one of the first to greet it. He did not even wait to put onhis hat, and his mother, following with it, found him in the forefrontof the crowd that always gathers about the mail coach in a country town,gazing up at the driver, who sat in superb dignity upon his lofty seat,as though he had never beheld so exalted a being in his life before.

  There was something so impassive, so indifferent to his surroundings,about this big, bronzed, black-moustached, and broad-hatted driver, thatpoor Bert's
heart sank within him. He felt perfectly sure that _he_could never in the world muster up sufficient courage to beg for theprivilege of a seat beside so impressive a potentate, and he doubted ifhis mother could, either.

  Among the passengers Bert was glad to see the gentleman who hadbefriended him on the train, and when this individual, after having theaudacity to hail the driver familiarly with, "Good-morning, Jack; looksas if we were going to have a pleasant trip down," sprang up on thewheel, and thence to the vacant place beside Jack Davis, just as thoughit belonged to him of right, a ray of hope stole into Bert's heart. Ifhis friend of the train, whose name, by the way, he told Bert, was Mr.Miller, was on such good terms with the driver, perhaps he would ask himto let a little boy sit up in front for a while.

  Taking much comfort from this thought, Bert, at a call from his mother,who was already seated, climbed up into the coach, and being allowed thecorner next the window, with head thrust forth as far as was safe heawaited eagerly the signal to start.