Holiday House: A Series of Tales

by Catherine Sinclair

  CHAPTER XI.

  THE POOR BOY.

  Not all the fine things that fine people possess, Should teach them the poor to despise; For 'tis in good manners, and not in good dress, That the truest gentility lies.

  The following Saturday morning, Frank, Harry, and Laura were assembledbefore Lady Harriet's breakfast hour, talking over all their adventureson the night of the illumination; and many a merry laugh was heard whileuncle David cracked his jokes and told his stories, for he seemed asfull of fun and spirits as the youngest boy in a play-ground.

  "Well, old fellow!" said he, lifting up Harry, and suddenly seating himon the high marble chimney-piece. "That is the situation where the poorlittle dwarf, Baron Borowloski was always put by his tall wife, when shewished to keep him out of mischief, and I wonder Mrs. Crabtree neverthought of the same plan for you."

  "Luckily there is no fire, or Harry would soon be roasted for the GiantSnap-'em-up's dinner," said Frank, laughing; "he looks up there like aChina Mandarin. Shake your head, Harry, and you will do quite as well!"

  "Uncle David!" cried Harry, eagerly, "pray let me see you stand for onemoment as you do at the club on a cold day, with your feet upon the rug,your back to the fire, and your coat-tails under your arms! Pray do,for one minute!"

  Uncle David did as he was asked, evidently expecting the result, whichtook place, for Harry sprung upon his back with the agility of a monkey,and they went round and round the room at a full gallop, during the nextfive minutes, while Lady Harriet said she never saw two such noisypeople, but it was quite the fashion now, since the king of Francecarried his grandchildren, in the same way, every morning, a picture ofwhich had lately been shown to her.

  "Then I hope his majesty gets as good an appetite with his romp as Ihave done," replied Major Graham, sitting down. "None of your tea andtoast for me! that is only fit for ladies. Frank, reach me thesebeef-steaks, and a cup of chocolate."

  Harry and Laura now planted themselves at the window, gazing at crowdsof people who passed, while, by way of a joke, they guessed whateverybody had come out for, and who they all were.

  "There is a fat cook with a basket under her arm, going to market," saidHarry. "Did you ever observe when Mrs. Marmalade comes home, she says tograndmama, 'I have desired a leg of mutton to come here, my lady! and Itold a goose to be over also,' as if the leg of mutton and the goosewalked here, arm-in-arm, of themselves."

  "Look at those children, going to see the wild beasts," added Laura,"and this little girl is on her way to buy a new frock. I am sure sheneeds one! that old man is hurrying along because he is too late for themail-coach; and this lady with a gown like a yellow daffodil, is goingto take root in the Botanical Gardens!"

  "Uncle David! there is the very poorest boy I ever saw!" cried Harry,turning eagerly round; "he has been standing in the cold here, for tenminutes, looking the picture of misery! he wears no hat, and has pulledhis long lank hair to make a bow, about twenty times. Do come and lookat him! he is very pale, and his clothes seem to have been made beforehe began to grow, for they are so much too small, and he is making usmany signs to open the window. May I do it?"

  "No! no! I never give to chance beggars of that kind, especially youngable-bodied fellows like that, because there are so many needy,deserving people whom I visit, who worked as long as they could, andwhom I know to be sober and honest. Most of the money we scatter tostreet beggars goes straight to the gin-shop, and even the very youngestchildren will buy or steal, to get the means of becoming intoxicated.Only last week, Harry, the landlord of an ale-house at Portobello wasseen at the head of a long table, surrounded with ragged beggar boysabout twelve or fourteen years of age, who were all perfectly drunk, andprobably your friend there might be of the party."

  "Oh no! uncle David! this boy seems quite sober and exceedingly clean,though he is so very poor!" replied Laura; "his black trowsers arepatched and repatched, his jacket has faded into fifty colours, and hisshoes are mended in every direction, but still he looks almostrespectable. His face is so thin you might use it for a hatchet. I wishyou would take one little peep, for he seems so anxious to speak to us."

  "I daresay that! we all know what the youngster has to tell! Probably awife and six small children at home, or, if you like it better, he willbe a shipwrecked sailor at your service. I know the whole affairalready; but if you have sixpence to spare, Laura, come with me afterbreakfast, and we shall bestow it on poor blind Mrs. Wilkie, who hasbeen bed-ridden for the last ten years; or old paralytic Jemmy Dixon theporter, who worked hard as long as he was able. If you had twenty moresixpences, I could tell you of twenty more people who deserve them asmuch."

  "Very true," added Lady Harriet. "Street beggars, who are young and ableto work, like that boy, it is cruelty to encourage. Parents bring uptheir children in profligate idleness, hoping to gain more money bylying and cheating, than by honest industry, and they too often succeed,especially when the wicked mothers also starve and disfigure these poorcreatures, to excite more compassion. We must relieve real distress,Harry, and search for it as we would for hidden treasures, because thuswe show our love to God and man; but a large purse with easy stringswill do more harm than good."

  "Do you remember, Frank, how long I suspected that old John Davidson wasimposing upon me?" said Major Graham. "He told such a dismal storyalways, that I never liked to refuse him some assistance; but yesterday,when he was here, the thought struck me by chance to say, 'What a finesupper you had last night, John!' You should have seen the start hegave, and his look of consternation, when he answered, 'Eh, Sir! how didye hear of that! We got the turkey very cheap, and none of us took morethan two glasses of toddy.'"

  "That boy is pointing to his pockets, and making more signs for us toopen the window!" exclaimed Laura. "What can it all mean! he seems sovery anxious!"

  Major Graham threw down his knife and fork--rose hastily frombreakfast--and flung open the window, calling out in rather a loud,angry voice, "What do you want, you idle fellow? It is a perfect shameto see you standing there all morning! Surely you don't mean to say thatan active youngster like you would disgrace yourself by begging?"

  "No, Sir! I want nothing!" answered the boy respectfully, but colouringto the deepest scarlet. "I never asked for money in my life, and I neverwill."

  "That's right, my good boy!" answered the Major, instantly changing histone. "What brings you here then?"

  "Please, Sir, your servants shut the door in my face, and every body isso hasty like, that I don't know what to do. I can't be listened to fora minute, though I have got something very particular to say, that someone would be glad to hear."

  Major Graham now looked exceedingly vexed with himself, for havingspoken so roughly to the poor boy, who had a thoughtful, mild, butcare-worn countenance, which was extremely interesting, while his mannerseemed better than his dress.

  Frank was despatched, as a most willing messenger, to bring the youngstranger up stairs, while uncle David told Harry that he would take thisas a lesson to himself ever afterwards, not to judge hastily fromappearances, because it was impossible for any one to guess what mightbe in the mind of another; and he began to hope this boy, who was socivil and well-spoken, might yet turn out to be a proper, industriouslittle fellow.

  "Well, my lad! Is there anything I can do for you?" asked Major Graham,when Frank led him kindly into the room. "What is your name?"

  "Evan Mackay, at your service. Please, Sir, did you lose a pocket-booklast Thursday, with your name on the back, and nine gold sovereignsinside?"

  "Yes! that I did, to my cost! Have you heard anything of it?"

  The boy silently drew a parcel from his pocket, and without looking upor speaking, he modestly placed it on the table, then colouring verydeeply, he turned away, and hurried towards the door. In another minutehe would have been off, but Frank sprung forward and took hold of hisarm, saying, in the kindest possible manner, "Stop, Evan! Stop a moment!That parcel seems to contain all my uncle's money. Where did you get it?Wh
o sent it here?"

  "I brought it, Sir! The direction is on the pocket-book, so there couldbe no mistake."

  "Did you find it yourself then?"

  "Yes! it was lying in the street that night when I ran for a Doctor tosee my mother, who is dying. She told me now to come back directly, Sir,so I must be going."

  "But let us give you something for being so honest," said Frank. "Youare a fine fellow, and you deserve to be well rewarded."

  "I only did my duty, Sir. Mother always says we should do right forconscience' sake, and not for a reward."

  "Yes! but you are justly entitled to this," said Major Graham, taking asovereign out of the purse. "I shall do more for you yet, but in themeantime here is what you have honestly earned to-day."

  "If I thought so, Sir,"----said the poor boy, looking wistfully at theglittering coin. "If I was quite sure there could be no harm----, but Imust speak first to mother about it, Sir! She has seen better days once,and she is sadly afraid of my ever taking charity. Mother mends myclothes, and teaches me herself, and works very hard in other ways, butshe is quite bed-ridden, and we have scarcely anything but the trifle Imake by working in the fields. It is very difficult to get a job at allsometimes, and if you could put me in the way of earning that money,Sir, it would make mother very happy. She is a little particular, andwould not taste a morsel that I could get by asking for it."

  "That is being very proud!" said Harry.

  "No, Sir! it is not from pride," replied Evan; "but mother says amerciful God has provided for her many years, and she will not begin todistrust Him now. Her hands are always busy, and her heart is alwayscheerful. She rears many little plants by her bedside, which we sell,and she teaches a neighbour's children, besides sewing for any one whowill employ her, for mother's maxim always was, that there can be nosuch thing as an idle Christian."

  "Very true!" said Lady Harriet. "Even the apostles were mending theirnets and labouring hard, whenever they were not teaching. Either thebody or the mind should always be active."

  "If you saw mother, that is exactly her way, for she does not eat thebread of idleness. Were a stranger to offer us a blanket or a dinner incharity, she would rather go without any than take it. A very kind ladybrought her a gown one day, but mother would only have it if she wereallowed to knit as many stockings as would pay for the stuff. I dare nottake a penny more for my work than is due, for she says, if once I beginreceiving alms, I might get accustomed to it."

  "That is the good old Scotch feeling of former days," observed MajorGraham. "It was sometimes carried too far then, but there is not enoughof it now. Your mother should have lived fifty years ago."

  "You may say so, indeed, Sir! We never had a drop of broth from thesoup-kitchen all winter, and many a day we shivered without a fire,though the society offered her sixpence a-week for coals, but she says'the given morsel is soon done;' and now, many of our neighbours whowasted what they got, feel worse off than we, who are accustomed tosuffer want, and to live upon our honest labour. Long ago, if motherwent out to tea with any of our neighbours, she always took her own teaalong with us."

  "But that is being prouder than anybody else," observed Frank, smiling."If my grandmama goes out to a tea-party, she allows her friends toprovide the fare."

  "Very likely, Sir! but that is different when people can give as good asthey get. Last week a kind neighbour sent us some nice loaf bread, butmother made me take it back, with her best thanks, and she preferred ourown oat cake. She is more ready to give than to take, Sir, and dividesher last bannock, sometimes, with anybody who is worse off thanourselves."

  "Poor fellow!" said Frank, compassionately; "how much you must oftenhave suffered!"

  "Suffered!" said the boy, with sudden emotion. "Yes! I have suffered! Itmatters nothing to be clothed in rags,--to be cold and hungry now! Thereare worse trials than that! My father died last year, crushed to deathin a moment by his own cart-wheels,--my brothers and sisters have allgone to the grave, scarcely able to afford the medicines that might havecured them,--and I am left alone with my poor dying mother. It is acomfort that life is not very long, and we may trust all to God while itlasts."

  "Could you take us to see Mrs. Mackay?" said Major Graham, kindly."Laura, get your bonnet."

  "Oh, Sir! that young lady could not stay half a minute in the placewhere my poor mother lives now. It is not a pretty cottage such as weread of in tracts, but a dark cold room, up a high stair, in thenarrowest lane you ever saw, with nothing to sit on but an old chest."

  "Never mind that, Evan," replied Major Graham. "You and your mother havea spirit of honour and honesty that might shame many who are lying onsofas of silk and damask. I respect her, and shall assist you if it bepossible. Show us the way."

  Many dirty closes and narrow alleys were threaded by the whole party,before they reached a dark ruinous staircase, where Evan paused andlooked round, to see whether Major Graham still approached. He thenslowly mounted one flight of ancient crumbling steps after another,lighted by patched and broken windows, till at last they arrived at anarrow wooden flight, perfectly dark. After groping to the summit, theyperceived a time-worn door, the latch of which was gently lifted byEvan, who stole noiselessly into the room, followed by uncle David andthe wondering children.

  There, a large cold room, nearly empty, but exceedingly clean, presenteditself to their notice. In one corner stood a massive old chest ofcarved oak, surrounded with a perfect glow of geraniums and myrtles infull blossom; beside which were arranged a large antique Bible, a jug ofcold water, and a pile of coarsely-knitted worsted stockings. Beyondthese, on a bed of clean straw, lay a tall, emaciated old woman,apparently in the last stage of life, with a face haggard by suffering;and yet her thin, withered hands were busily occupied with needle-work,while, in low, faltering tones, she chanted these words,

  "When from the dust of death I rise, To claim my mansion in the skies, This, this shall be my only plea, Jesus has liv'd and died for me."

  "Mother!" said Evan, wishing to arouse her attention. "Look, mother!"

  "Good day, Mrs. Mackay," added Major Graham, in a voice of greatconsideration, while she languidly turned her head towards the door. "Ihave come to thank you for restoring my purse this morning."

  "You are kindly welcome, Sir! What else could we do!" replied she, in afeeble, tremulous voice. "The money was yours, and the sooner it wentout of our hands the better."

  "It was perfectly safe while it stayed there," added Major Graham, notaffecting to speak in a homely accent, nor putting on any airs ofcondescension at all, but sitting down on the old chest as if he hadnever sat on any thing but a chest in his life before, and looking atthe clean bare floor with as much respect as if it had been a Turkeycarpet. "Your little boy's pocket seems to be as safe as the Bank ofScotland."

  "That is very true, Sir! My boy is honest; and it is well to keep a goodconscience, as that is all he has in this world to live for. Many have aheavy conscience to carry with a heavy purse; but these he need notenvy. If we are poor in this world, we are rich in faith; and I trustthe money was not even a temptation to Evan, because he has learned fromthe best of all teachers, that it would 'profit him nothing to gain thewhole world, and lose his own soul.'"

  "True, Mrs. Mackay! most true! We have come here this morning to requestthat you and he will do me the favour to accept of a small recompense."

  "We are already rewarded, Sir! This has been an opportunity oftestifying to our own hearts that we desire to do right in the eye ofGod. At the same time, it was Providence who kindly directed my son'ssteps to the place where that money was lying; and if anything seemsjustly due to poor Evan, let him have it. My wants are few, and mustsoon be ended. But oh! when I look at that boy, and think of the longyears he may be struggling with poverty and temptation, my heart meltswithin me, and my whole spirit is broken. Faith itself seems to fail,and I could be a beggar for him now! It is not money I would ask, Sir,because that might soon be spent; but get him some honest employment,and I will
thank you on my very knees."

  Evan seemed startled at the sudden energy of his mother's manner, andtears sprung into his eyes while she spoke with a degree of agitation sodifferent from what he had ever heard before; but he struggled toconceal his feelings, and she continued with increasing emotion,

  "Bodily suffering, and many a year of care and sorrow, are fast closingtheir work on me. The moments are passing away like a weaver's shuttle;and if I had less anxiety about Evan, how blessed a prospect it wouldappear; but that is the bitterness of death to me now. My poor, poorboy! I would rather hear he was in the way of earning his livelihood,than that he got a hundred a-year. Tell me, Sir!--and oh! consider youare speaking to a dying creature--can you possibly give him anycreditable employment, where he might gain a crust of bread, and beindependent?"

  "I honour your very proper feeling on the subject, Mrs. Mackay, andshall help Evan to the best of my ability," replied Major Graham, in atone of seriousness and sincerity. "To judge by these fine geraniums, hemust be fond of cultivating plants; and we want an under-gardener in thecountry; therefore he shall have that situation without loss of time."

  "Oh, mother! mother! speak no more of dying! You will surely get betternow!" said Evan, looking up, while his thin pale face assumed amomentary glow of pleasure. "Try now to get better! I never could workas well, if you were not waiting to see me come home! We shall be sohappy now!"

  "Yes! I am happy!" said Mrs. Mackay, solemnly looking towards heaven,with an expression that could not be mistaken. "The last cord is cutthat bound me to the earth; and may you, Sir, find hereafter theblessings that are promised to those who visit the fatherless and widowsin their affliction."