by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER VII.
FRIENDSHIP.
Nelly Hardy had been unfortunate in her parents, for both drank, and shehad grown up without care or supervision. She had neither brother norsister. At school she was always either at the top or bottom of herclass according as a fit of diligence or idleness seized her. She was awild passionate child, feeling bitterly the neglect with which she wastreated, her ragged clothes, her unkempt appearance. She was feared andyet liked by the girls of her own age, for she was generous, alwaysready to do a service, and good-tempered except when excited to passion.She was fonder of joining with the boys, when they would let her, intheir games, and, when angered, was ready to hold her own against themwith tooth and nail.
So wild were her bursts of passion that they were sources of amusementto some of the boys, until Jack upon one occasion took her part, andfought and conquered the boy who had excited her. This was on theSaturday before the accident had taken place.
For some days after the presentation no one saw her; she kept herselfshut up in the house or wandered far away.
Then she appeared suddenly before Jack Simpson and Harry Shepherd asthey were out together.
"I hate you, Jack Simpson," she said, "I hate you, I hate you;" and thendashed through the gap in the hedge by which she had come.
"Well," Harry exclaimed in astonishment, "only to think!"
"It be nat'ral enough," Jack said, "and I bain't surprised one bit. Iorter ha' known better. I had only to ha' joodged her by myself and Ishould ha' seen it. I hated being dragged forward and talked at; it wasbad enough though I had been made decent and clean scrubbed all over,and got my Soonday clothes on, but of course it would be worse for alass anyway, and she was all anyhow, not expecting it. I ought to ha'known better; I thawt only o' my own feelings and not o' hers, and I'dbeg her pardon a hundred times, but 'taint likely she'd forgive me. Whatis she a doing now?"
The lads peered through the hedge. Far across the field, on the bank,the other side, lay what looked like a bundle of clothes.
"She be a crying, I expect," Jack said remorsefully. "I do wish some bigchap would a come along and give I a hiding; I wouldn't fight, or kick,or do nowt, I would just take it, it would serve me roight. I wonderwhether it would do her any good to let her thrash me. If it would she'dbe welcome. Look here, Harry, she bain't angry wi' you. Do thou goacross to her and tell her how main sorry I be, and that I know I am aselfish brute and thought o' myself and not o' her, and say that if shelikes I will cut her a stick any size she likes and let her welt me justas long as she likes wi'out saying a word."
Harry was rather loath to go on such an errand, but being imperativelyordered by Jack he, as usual, did as his comrade wished. When heapproached Nelly Hardy he saw that the girl was crying bitterly, hersobs shaking her whole body.
"I be coom wi' a message," he began in a tone of apprehension, for heregarded Nelly as resembling a wild cat in her dangerous and unexpectedattacks.
The girl leapt to her feet and turned her flushed tear-stained cheeksand eyes, flashing with anger through the tears, upon him.
"What dost want, Harry Shepherd? Get thee gone, or I'll tear the eyesfrom thy head."
"I doan't coom o' my own accord," Harry said steadily, though herecoiled a little before her fierce outburst. "I came on the part o'Jack Simpson, and I've got to gi' you his message even if you do fly atme. I've got to tell you that he be main sorry, and that he feels hewere a selfish brute in a thinking o' his own feelings instead o' thine.He says he be so sorry that if 'ee like he'll cut a stick o' any sizeyou choose and ull let you welt him as long as you like wi'out saying aword. And when Jack says a thing he means it, so if you wants to wophim, come on."
To Harry's intense surprise the girl's mood changed. She dropped on theground again, and again began to cry.
After standing still for some time and seeing no abatement in her sobs,or any sign of her carrying out the invitation of which he had been thebearer, Jack's emissary returned to him.
"I guv her your message, Jack, and she said nowt, but there she be acrying still."
"Perhaps she didn't believe you," Jack said; "I'd best go myself."
First, with great deliberation, Jack chose a hazel stick from the hedgeand tried it critically. When fully assured that it was at once lissomand tough, and admirably adapted for his purpose, he told Harry to go onhome.
"Maybe," Jack said, "she mayn't loike to use it and you a looking on.Doan't 'ee say a word to no un. If she likes to boast as she ha' weltedme she ha' a roight to do so, but doan't you say nowt."
Jack walked slowly across the field till he was close to the figure onthe ground. Then he quietly removed his jacket and waistcoat and laidthem down. Then he said:
"Now, Nelly, I be ready for a welting, I ha' deserved it if ever a chapdid, and I'll take it. Here's the stick, and he's a good un and willsting rare, I warrant."
The girl sat up and looked at him through her tears.
"Oh, Jack, and didst really think I wanted to welt thee?"
"I didn't know whether thou didst or no, Nelly, but thou said thouhate'st me, and wi' good reason, so if thou likest to welt me here's thestick."
The girl laughed through her tears. "Ah! Jack, thou must think that I ama wild cat, as John Dobson called me t'other day. Throw away that stick,Jack. I would rather a thousand times that thou laidst it on myshoulders than I on thine."
Jack threw away the stick, put on his coat and waistcoat, and sat downon the bank.
"What is it then, lass? I know I were cruel to have thee called forward,but I didn't think o't; but I had rather that thou beat me as I orter bebeaten, than that thou should go on hating me."
"I doan't hate thee, Jack, though I said so; I hate myself; but I likethee better nor all, thou art so brave and good."
"No braver than thou, Nelly," Jack said earnestly; "I doan't understandwhy thou should first say thou hates me and then that thou doan't; butif thou are in earnest, that thou likest me, we'll be friends. I don'tmean that we go for walks together, and such like, as some boys andgirls do, for I ha' no time for such things, and I shouldn't like iteven if I had; but I'll take thy part if anyone says owt to thee, andthou shalt tell me when thou art very bad at hoam"--for the failings ofNelly's parents were public property. "Thou shalt be a friend to me, notas a lass would be, but as Harry is, and thou woan't mind if I blow theeup, and tells 'ee of things. Thou stook to me by the side o' the shaft,and I'll stick to thee."
"I'll do that," the girl said, laying her hand in his. "I'll be thyfriend if thou'lt let me, not as lasses are, but as lads."
And so the friendship was ratified, and they walked back together to thevillage. When he came to think it over, Jack was inclined to repent hisbargain, for he feared that she would attach herself to him, and that hewould have much laughter to endure, and many battles to fight. To hissurprise Nelly did nothing of the sort. She would be at her door everymorning as he went by to the pit and give him a nod, and again as hereturned. Whenever other girls and boys were playing or sittingtogether, Nelly would make one of the group. If he said, as he often didsay, "You, Nell Hardy come and sit by me," she came gladly, but shenever claimed the place. She was ready to come or to go, to run messagesand to do him good in any way.
Jack had promised she should be his friend as Harry was, and as he gotto like her more he would ask her or tell her to accompany them in theirwalks, or to sit on a low wall in some quiet corner and talk. Harry,stirred by his friend's example, had begun to spend half an hour a dayover his old school-books.
"Why dost like larning so much, Jack?" Nelly asked, as Jack was severelyreproaching his friend with not having looked at a book for some days;"what good do it do?"
"It raises folk in the world, Nell, helps 'em make their way up."
"And dost thou mean to get oop i' the world?"
"Ay, lass," Jack said, "if hard work can do it, I will; but it does morenor that. If a man knows things and loves reading it makes him differentlike, he's got summat to t
hink about and talk about and care for besidepublic-houses and dorgs. Canst read, Nell?"
"No, Jack," she said, colouring. "It bain't my fault; mother never hadthe pence to spare for schooling, and I was kept at hoam to help."
Jack sat thoughtful for some time.
"Wouldst like to learn?"
"Ay."
"Well, I'll teach thee."
"Oh, Jack!" and she leapt up with flashing eyes; "how good thou be'est!"
"Doan't," Jack said crossly; "what be there good in teaching a lass tospell? There's twopence, run down to the corner shop and buy aspelling-book; we'll begin at once."
And so Nelly had her first lesson.
NELLY'S FIRST LESSON.]
After that, every afternoon, as Jack came home from work, the girl wouldmeet him in a quiet corner off the general line, and for five minutes hewould teach her, not hearing her say what she had learned, but tellingher fresh sounds and combinations of letters. Five or six times he wouldgo over them, and expected--for Jack was tyrannical in his ways--thatshe would carry them away with her and learn them by heart, and gothrough them again and again, so that when he questioned her duringtheir longer talks she would be perfect.
Then, the five minutes over, Jack would run on to make up for lost time,and be in as soon as Bill Haden.
But however accurately Jack expected his pupil to learn, hisexpectations were surpassed. The girl beyond clearing up the room hadnothing to do, and she devoted herself with enthusiasm to this work.Once she had mastered simple words and felt her own progress, hershyness as to her ignorance left her. She always carried her book in herpocket, and took to asking girls the pronunciation of larger words, andbegging them to read a few lines to her; and sitting on the door-stepporing over her book, she would salute any passer-by with: "Please tellus what is that word." When she could read easily, which she learned todo in two or three months, she borrowed left-off school-books from thegirls, and worked slowly on, and two years later had made up for all herearly deficiencies, and knew as much as any of those who had passedthrough the school.
From the day of her compact of friendship with Jack her appearance anddemeanour had been gradually changing. From the first her wild unkempthair had been smoothly combed and braided, though none but herself knewwhat hours of pain and trouble it took her with a bit of a comb withthree teeth alone remaining, to reduce the tangled mass of hair toorder.
Her companions stared indeed with wonder on the first afternoon, when,thus transformed and with clean face, she came among them, with a newfeeling of shyness.
"Why, it be Nelly Hardy!" "Why, Nell, what ha' done to t'yself? Ishouldn't ha' known ye." "Well, ye be cleaned up surely."
The girl was half inclined to flame out at their greetings, but she knewthat the surprise was natural, and laughed good-humouredly. She wasrewarded for her pains when Jack and some other boys, passing on theirway to play, Jack stopped a moment and said to her quietly, "Well done,lass, thou lookst rarely, who'd ha' thought thou wert so comely!"
As time went on Nelly Hardy grew altogether out of her old self.Sometimes, indeed, bursts of temper, such as those which had gained herthe name of the "Wild Cat," would flare out, but these were very rarenow. She was still very poorly dressed, for her house was as wretchedas of old, but there was an attempt at tidiness. Her manner, too, wassofter, and it became more and more quiet as things went on, and herplaymates wondered again and again what had come over Nell Hardy; shehad got to be as quiet as a mouse.
The boys at first were disposed to joke Jack upon this strangefriendship, but Jack soon let it be understood that upon that subjectjoking was unacceptable.
"She stood by me," he said, "and I'm a-going to stand by her. She ain'tgot no friends, and I'm going to be her friend. She's quiet enough anddoan't bother, no more nor if she were a dorg. She doan't get in noone's way, she doan't want to play, and sits quiet and looks on, so ifany of you doan't like her near ye, you can go away to t' other side o'field. I wish she'd been a boy, 'twould ha' been fitter all ways, butshe can't help that. She's got the sense o' one. and the pluck, and Ilike her. There!"