“And,” continued the lad who showed the cathedral, “he has lived here these many, many winters. They say he is fifteen years old; and he is so tame, poor fellow! that if I had a bit of bread he’d come down and feed in my hand.”
“I’ve a bit of bun here,” cried Ben, joyfully, producing the remains of the bun which Hal but an hour before would have thrown away. “Pray, let us see the poor robin eat out of your hand.”
The lad crumbled the bun, and called to the robin, who fluttered and chirped, and seemed rejoiced at the sight of the bread; but yet he did not come down from his pinnacle on the organ.
“He is afraid of US,” said Ben; “he is not used to eat before strangers,
I suppose.”
“Ah, no, sir,” said the young man, with a deep sigh, “that is not the thing. He is used enough to eat afore company. Time was he’d have come down for me before ever so many fine folks, and have eat his crumbs out of my hand, at my first call; but, poor fellow! it’s not his fault now. He does not know me now, sir, since my accident, because of this great black patch.” The young man put his hand to his right eye, which was covered with a huge black patch. Ben asked what ACCIDENT he meant; and the lad told him that, but a few weeks ago, he had lost the sight of his eye by the stroke of a stone, which reached him as he was passing under the rocks at Clifton unluckily when the workmen were blasting. “I don’t mind so much for myself, sir,” said the lad; “but I can’t work so well now, as I used to do before my accident, for my old mother, who has had a STROKE of the palsy; and I’ve a many little brothers and sisters not well able yet to get their own livelihood, though they be as willing as willing can be.”
“Where does your mother live?” said Mr. Gresham.
“Hard by, sir, just close to the church here: it was HER that always had the showing of it to strangers, till she lost the use of her poor limbs.”
“Shall we, may we, uncle, go that way? This is the house; is not it?” said Ben, when they went out of the cathedral.
They went into the house; it was rather a hovel than a house; but, poor as it was, it was as neat as misery could make it. The old woman was sitting up in her wretched bed, winding worsted; four meagre, ill- clothed, pale children were all busy, some of them sticking pins in paper for the pin-maker, and others sorting rags for the paper-maker.
“What a horrid place it is!” said Hal, sighing; “I did not know there were such shocking places in the world. I’ve often seen terrible- looking, tumble-down places, as we drove through the town in mamma’s carriage; but then I did not know who lived in them; and I never saw the inside of any of them. It is very dreadful, indeed, to think that people are forced to live in this way. I wish mamma would send me some more pocket-money, that I might do something for them. I had half a crown; but,” continued he, feeling in his pockets, “I’m afraid I spent the last shilling of it this morning upon those cakes that made me sick. I wish I had my shilling now, I’d give it to these poor people.”
Ben, though he was all this time silent, was as sorry as his talkative cousin for all these poor people. But there was some difference between the sorrow of these two boys.
Hal, after he was again seated in the hackney-coach, and had rattled through the busy streets of Bristol, for a few minutes quite forgot the spectacle of misery which he had seen; and the gay shops in Wine Street and the idea of his green and white uniform wholly occupied his imagination.
“Now for our uniforms!” cried he, as he jumped eagerly out of the coach, when his uncle stopped at the woollen-draper’s door.
“Uncle,” said Ben, stopping Mr. Gresham before he got out of the carriage, “I don’t think a uniform is at all necessary for me. I’m very much obliged to you; but I would rather not have one. I have a very good coat, and I think it would be waste.”
“Well, let me get out of the carriage, and we will see about it,” said Mr. Gresham; “perhaps the sight of the beautiful green and white cloth, and the epaulettes (have you ever considered the epaulettes?) may tempt you to change your mind.”
“Oh, no,” said Ben, laughing; “I shall not change my mind,”
The green cloth, and the white cloth, and the epaulettes were produced, to Hal’s infinite satisfaction. His uncle took up a pen, and calculated for a few minutes; then, showing the back of the letter, upon which he was writing, to his nephews, “Cast up these sums, boys,” said he, “and tell me whether I am right.”
“Ben, do you do it,” said Hal, a little embarrassed; “I am not quick at figures.” Ben WAS, and he went over his uncle’s calculation very expeditiously.
“It is right, is it?” said Mr. Gresham.
“Yes, sir, quite right.”
“Then, by this calculation, I find I could, for less than half the money your uniforms would cost, purchase for each of you boys a warm great- coat, which you will want, I have a notion, this winter upon the Downs.”
“Oh, sir,” said Hal, with an alarmed look; “but it is not winter YET; it is not cold weather YET. We sha’n’t want greatcoats YET.”
“Don’t you remember how cold we were, Hal, the day before yesterday, in that sharp wind, when we were flying our kite upon the Downs? and winter will come, though it is not come yet — I am sure, I should like to have a good warm great-coat very much.”
Mr. Gresham took six guineas out of his purse and he placed three of them before Hal, and three before Ben. “Young gentlemen,” said he, “I believe your uniforms would come to about three guineas a piece. Now I will lay out this money for you just as you please. Hal, what say you?”
“Why, sir,” said Hal, “a great-coat is a good thing, to be sure; and then, after the great-coat, as you said it would only cost half as much as the uniform, there would be some money to spare, would not there?”
“Yes, my dear, about five-and-twenty shillings.”
“Five-and-twenty shillings? — I could buy and do a great many things, to be sure, with five-and-twenty shillings; but then, THE THING IS, I must go without the uniform, if I have the great-coat.”
“Certainly,” said his uncle.
“Ah!” said Hal, sighing, as he looked at the epaulettes, “uncle, if you would not be displeased, if I choose the uniform—”
“I shall not be displeased at your choosing whatever you like best,” said
Mr. Gresham.
“Well, then, thank you, sir,” said Hal; “I think I had better have the uniform, because, if I have not the uniform, now, directly, it will be of no use to me, as the archery meeting is the week after next, you know; and, as to the great-coat, perhaps between this time and the VERY cold weather, which, perhaps, won’t be till Christmas, papa will buy a great- coat for me; and I’ll ask mamma to give me some pocket money to give away, and she will, perhaps.” To all this conclusive, conditional reasoning, which depended upon the word PERHAPS, three times repeated, Mr. Gresham made no reply; but he immediately bought the uniform for Hal, and desired that it should be sent to Lady Diana Sweepstakes’ son’s tailor, to be made up. The measure of Hal’s happiness was now complete.
“And how am I to lay out the three guineas for you, Ben?” said Mr.
Gresham; “speak, what do you wish for first?”
“A great-coat, uncle, if you please.” Gresham bought the coat; and, after it was paid for, five-and-twenty shillings of Ben’s three guineas remained.
“What next, my boy?” said his uncle.
“Arrows, uncle, if you please; three arrows.”
“My dear, I promised you a bow and arrows.”
“No, uncle, you only said a bow.”
“Well, I meant a bow and arrows. I’m glad you are so exact, however. It is better to claim less than more than what is promised. The three arrows you shall have. But go on; how shall I dispose of these five-and- twenty shillings for you?”
“In clothes, if you will be so good, uncle, for that poor boy who has the great black patch on his eye.”
“I always believed,” said Mr. Gresham, shaking hands wi
th Ben, “that economy and generosity were the best friends, instead of being enemies, as some silly, extravagant people would have us think them. Choose the poor, blind boy’s coat, my dear nephew, and pay for it. There’s no occasion for my praising you about the matter. Your best reward is in your own mind, child; and you want no other, or I’m mistaken. Now, jump into the coach, boys, and let’s be off. We shall be late, I’m afraid,” continued he, as the coach drove on: “but I must let you stop, Ben, with your goods, at the poor boy’s door.”
When they came to the house, Mr. Gresham opened the coach door, and Ben jumped out with his parcel under his arm.
“Stay, stay! you must take me with you,” said his pleased uncle; “I like to see people made happy, as well as you do.”
“And so do I, too,” said Hal; “let me come with you. I almost wish my uniform was not gone to the tailor’s, so I do.” And when he saw the look of delight and gratitude with which the poor boy received the clothes which Ben gave him; and when he heard the mother and children thank him, he sighed, and said, “Well, I hope mamma will give me some more pocket money soon.”
Upon his return home, however, the sight of the FAMOUS bow and arrow, which Lady Diana Sweepstakes had sent him, recalled to his imagination all the joys of his green and white uniform; and he no longer wished that it had not been sent to the tailor’s.
“But I don’t understand, Cousin Hal,” said little Patty, “why you call this bow a FAMOUS bow. You say famous very often; and I don’t know exactly what it means; a famous uniform — famous doings. I remember you said there are to be famous doings, the first of September, upon the Downs. What does famous mean?”
“Oh, why, famous means — now, don’t you know what famous means? It means- -it is a word that people say — it is the fashion to say it — it means — it means famous.” Patty laughed, and said, “This does not explain it to me.”
“No,” said Hal, “nor can it be explained: if you don’t understand it, that’s not my fault. Everybody but little children, I suppose, understands it; but there’s no explaining THOSE SORT of words, if you don’t TAKE THEM at once. There’s to be famous doings upon the Downs, the first of September; that is grand, fine. In short, what does it signify talking any longer, Patty, about the matter? Give me my bow, for I must go out upon the Downs and practise.”
Ben accompanied him with the bow and the three arrows which his uncle had now given to him; and, every day, these two boys went out upon the Downs and practised shooting with indefatigable perseverance. Where equal pains are taken, success is usually found to be pretty nearly equal. Our two archers, by constant practice, became expert marksmen; and before the day of trial, they were so exactly matched in point of dexterity, that it was scarcely possible to decide which was superior.
The long expected lst of September at length arrived. “What sort of a day is it?” was the first question that was asked by Hal and Ben the moment that they wakened. The sun shone bright, but there was a sharp and high wind. “Ha!” said Ben, “I shall be glad of my good great-coat to-day; for I’ve a notion it will be rather cold upon the Downs, especially when we are standing still, as we must, whilst all the people are shooting.”
“Oh, never mind! I don’t think I shall feel it cold at all,” said Hal, as he dressed himself in his new green and white uniform; and he viewed himself with much complacency.
“Good morning to you, uncle; how do you do?” said he, in a voice of exultation, when he entered the breakfast-room. How do you do? seemed rather to mean, “How do you like me in my uniform?” And his uncle’s cool, “Very well, I thank you, Hal,” disappointed him, as it seemed only to say, “Your uniform makes no difference in my opinion of you.”
Even little Patty went on eating her breakfast much as usual, and talked of the pleasure of walking with her father to the Downs, and of all the little things which interested her; so that Hal’s epaulettes were not the principal object in anyone’s imagination but his own.
“Papa,” said Patty, “as we go up the hill where there is so much red mud, I must take care to pick my way nicely; and I must hold up my frock, as you desired me, and, perhaps, you will be so good, if I am not troublesome, to lift me over the very bad place where are no stepping- stones. My ankle is entirely well, and I’m glad of that, or else I should not be able to walk so far as the Downs. How good you were to me, Ben, when I was in pain the day I sprained my ankle! You played at jack straws and at cat’s-cradle with me. Oh, that puts me in mind — here are your gloves which I asked you that night to let me mend. I’ve been a great while about them; but are not they not very neatly mended, papa? Look at the sewing.”
“I am not a very good judge of sewing, my dear little girl,” said Mr. Gresham, examining the work with a close and scrupulous eye; “but, in my opinion, here is one stitch that is rather too long. The white teeth are not quite even.”
“Oh, papa, I’ll take out that long tooth in a minute,” said Patty, laughing; “I did not think that you would observe it so soon.”
“I would not have you trust to my blindness,” said her father, stroking her head, fondly; “I observe everything. I observe, for instance, that you are a grateful little girl, and that you are glad to be of use to those who have been kind to you; and for this I forgive you the long stitch.”
“But it’s out, it’s out, papa,” said Patty; “and the next time your gloves want mending, Ben, I’ll mend them better.”
“They are very nice, I think,” said Ben, drawing them on; “and I am much obliged to you. I was just wishing I had a pair of gloves to keep my fingers warm to-day, for I never can shoot well when my hands are benumbed. Look, Hal; you know how ragged these gloves were; you said they were good for nothing but to throw away; now look, there’s not a hole in them,” said he, spreading his fingers.
“Now, is it not very extraordinary,” said Hal to himself, “that they should go on so long talking about an old pair of gloves, without saying scarcely a word about my new uniform? Well, the young Sweepstakes and Lady Diana will talk enough about it; that’s one comfort. Is not it time to think of setting out, sir?” said Hal to his uncle. “The company, you know, are to meet at the Ostrich at twelve, and the race to begin at one, and Lady Diana’s horses, I know were ordered to be at the door at ten.”
Mr. Stephen, the butler, here interrupted the hurrying young gentleman in his calculations. “There’s a poor lad, sir, below, with a great black patch on his right eye, who is come from Bristol, and wants to speak a word with the young gentlemen, if you please. I told him they were just going out with you; but he says he won’t detain them more than half a minute.”
“Show him up, show him up,” said Mr. Gresham.
“But, I suppose,” said Hal, with a sigh, “that Stephen mistook, when he said the young GENTLEMEN; he only wants to see Ben, I daresay; I’m sure he has no reason to want to see me.”
“Here he comes — Oh, Ben, he is dressed in the new coat you gave him,” whispered Hal, who was really a good-natured boy, though extravagant. “How much better he looks than he did in the ragged coat! Ah! he looked at you first, Ben — and well he may!”
The boy bowed, without any cringing servility, but with an open, decent freedom in his manner, which expressed that he had been obliged, but that he knew his young benefactor was not thinking of the obligation. He made as little distinction as possible between his bows to the two cousins.
“As I was sent with a message, by the clerk of our parish, to Redland chapel out on the Downs, to-day, sir,” said he to Mr. Gresham, “knowing your house lay in my way, my mother, sir, bid me call, and make bold to offer the young gentlemen two little worsted balls that she has worked for them,” continued the lad, pulling out of his pocket two worsted balls worked in green and orange-coloured stripes. “They are but poor things, sir, she bid me say, to look at; but, considering she has but one hand to work with, and that her left hand, you’ll not despise ‘em, we hopes.” He held the balls to Ben and Hal. “They are bot
h alike, gentlemen,” said he. “If you’ll be pleased to take ’em they’re better than they look, for they bound higher than your head. I cut the cork round for the inside myself, which was all I could do.”
“They are nice balls, indeed: we are much obliged to you,” said the boys as they received them, and they proved them immediately. The balls struck the floor with a delightful sound, and rebounded higher than Mr. Gresham’s head. Little Patty clapped her hands joyfully. But now a thundering double rap at the door was heard.
“The Master Sweepstakes, sir,” said Stephen, “are come for Master Hal. They say that all the young gentlemen who have archery uniforms are to walk together, in a body, I think they say, sir; and they are to parade along the Well Walk, they desired me to say, sir, with a drum and fife, and so up the hill by Prince’s Place, and all to go upon the Downs together, to the place of meeting. I am not sure I’m right, sir; for both the young gentlemen spoke at once, and the wind is very high at the street door; so that I could not well make out all they said; but I believe this is the sense of it.”
“Yes, yes,” said Hal, eagerly, “it’s all right. I know that is just what was settled the day I dined at Lady Diana’s; and Lady Diana and a great party of gentlemen are to ride—”
“Well, that is nothing to the purpose,” interrupted Mr. Gresham. “Don’t keep these Master Sweepstakes waiting. Decide — do you choose to go with them or with us?”
“Sir — uncle — sir, you know, since all the UNIFORMS agreed to go together- -”
“Off with you, then, Mr. Uniform, if you mean to go,” said Mr. Gresham.
Hal ran downstairs in such a hurry that he forgot his bow and arrows. Ben discovered this when he went to fetch his own; and the lad from Bristol, who had been ordered by Mr. Gresham to eat his breakfast before he proceeded to Redland Chapel, heard Ben talking about his cousin’s bow and arrows. “I know,” said Ben, “he will be sorry not to have his bow with him, because here are the green knots tied to it, to match his cockade: and he said that the boys were all to carry their bows, as part of the show.”
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