Part 6 (2/2)
pray, what is that? _The Woman._--You shall see.
She then showed him another cask, and bade him observe the liquor that was in it. This he did, and saw it was covered all over with a thick sc.u.m and froth. _Tommy._--And is this what you call fermentation? _The Woman._--Yes, master. _Tommy._--And what is the reason of it? _The Woman._--That I do not know, indeed; but when we have pressed the juice out, as I told you, we put it into a cask and let it stand in some warm place, and in a short time it begins to work or ferment of itself, as you see; and after this fermentation has continued some time, it acquires the taste and properties of cider, and then we draw it off into casks and sell it, or else keep it for our own use. And I am told this is the manner in which they make wine in other countries.
_Tommy._--What! is wine made of apples, then? _The Woman._--No, master; wine is made of grapes, but they squeeze the juice out, and treat it in the same manner as we do the juice of the apples. _Tommy._--I declare this is very curious indeed. Then cider is nothing but wine made of apples?
While they were conversing in this manner a little clean girl came and brought Tommy an earthen porringer full of new milk, with a large slice of brown bread. Tommy took it, and ate with so good a relish that he thought he had never made a better breakfast in his life.
When Harry and he had eaten their breakfast, Tommy told him it was time they should return home, so he thanked the good woman for her kindness, and putting his hand into his pocket, pulled out a s.h.i.+lling, which he desired her to accept. ”No, G.o.d bless you, my little dear!” said the woman, ”I will not take a farthing off you for the world. What though my husband and I are poor, yet we are able to get a living by our labour, and give a mess of milk to a traveller without hurting ourselves.”
Tommy thanked her again, and was just going away when a couple of surly-looking men came in and asked the woman if her name was _Tosset_.
”Yes, it is,” said the woman: ”I have never been ashamed of it.” ”Why then,” said one of the men, pulling a paper out of his pocket, ”here is an execution against you, on the part of Mr Richard Gruff; and if your husband does not instantly discharge the debt, with interest and all costs, amounting altogether to the sum of thirty-nine pounds ten s.h.i.+llings, we shall take an inventory of all you have, and proceed to sell it by auction for the discharge of the debt.”
”Indeed,” said the poor woman, looking a little confused, ”this must certainly be a mistake, for I never heard of Mr Richard Gruff in all my life, nor do I believe that my husband owes a farthing in the world, unless to his landlord; and I know that he has almost made up half-a-year's rent for him: so that I do not think he would go to trouble a poor man.” ”No, no, mistress,” said the man, shaking his head, ”we know our business too well to make these kind of mistakes; but when your husband comes in we'll talk with him; in the meantime we must go on with our inventory.”
The two men then went into the next room, and immediately after, a stout, comely-looking man, of about the age of forty, came in, with a good-humoured countenance, and asked if his breakfast was ready. ”Oh, my poor dear William,” said the woman, ”here is a sad breakfast for you!
but I think it cannot be true that you owe anything; so what the fellows told me must be false about Richard Gruff.” At this name the man instantly started, and his countenance, which was before ruddy, became pale as a sheet. ”Surely,” said the woman, ”it cannot be true, that you owe forty pounds to Richard Gruff?” ”Alas!” answered the man, ”I do not know the exact sum; but when your brother Peter failed, and his creditors seized all that he had, this Richard Gruff was going to send him to jail, had not I agreed to be bound for him, which enabled him to go to sea. He indeed promised to remit his wages to me, to prevent my getting into any trouble upon that account; but you know it is now three years since he went, and in all that time we have heard nothing about him.” ”Then,” said the woman, bursting into tears, ”you, and all your poor dear children are ruined for my ungrateful brother; for here are two bailiffs in the house, who are come to take possession of all you have, and to sell it.”
At this the man's face became red as scarlet, and seizing an old sword which hung over the chimney, he cried out, ”No, it shall not be; I will die first; I will make these villains know what it is to make honest men desperate.” He then drew the sword, and was going out in a fit of madness, which might have proved fatal either to himself or to the bailiffs, but his wife flung herself upon her knees before him, and, catching hold of his legs, besought him to be more composed. ”Oh, for heaven's sake, my dear, dear husband,” said she, ”consider what you are doing! You can do neither me nor your children any service by this violence; instead of that, should you be so unfortunate as to kill either of these men, would it not be murder? and would not our lot be a thousand times harder than it is at present?”
This remonstrance seemed to have some effect upon the farmer; his children too, although too young to understand the cause of all this confusion, gathered round him, and hung about him, sobbing in concert with their mother. Little Harry too, although a stranger to the poor man before, yet with the tenderest sympathy took him by the hand and bathed it with his tears. At length, softened and overcome by the sorrows of those he loved so well, and by his own cooler reflections, he resigned the fatal instrument, and sat himself down upon a chair, covering his face with his hands, and only saying, ”The will of G.o.d be done!”
Tommy had beheld this affecting scene with the greatest attention, although he had not said a word; and now beckoning Harry away, he went silently out of the house, and took the road which led to Mr Barlow's.
While he was on the way, he seemed to be so full of the scene which he had just witnessed that he did not open his lips; but when he came home he instantly went to Mr Barlow and desired that he would directly send him to his father's. Mr Barlow stared at the request, and asked him what was the occasion of his being so suddenly tired with his residence at the vicarage. ”Sir,” answered Tommy, ”I am not the least tired, I a.s.sure you; you have been extremely kind to me, and I shall always remember it with the greatest grat.i.tude; but I want to see my father immediately, and I am sure, when you come to know the occasion, you will not disapprove of it.” Mr Barlow did not press him any further, but ordered a careful servant to saddle a horse directly and take Tommy home before him.
Mr and Mrs Merton were extremely surprised and over-joyed at the sight of their son, who thus unexpectedly arrived at home; but Tommy, whose mind was full of the project he had formed, as soon as he had answered their first questions, accosted his father thus--”Pray, sir, will you be angry with me if I ask you for a great favour?” ”No, surely,” said Mr Merton, ”that I will not.” ”Why, then,” said Tommy, ”as I have often heard you say that you were very rich, and that if I was good I should be rich too. Will you give me some money?” ”Money!” said Mr Merton; ”yes, to be sure; how much do you want?” ”Why, sir,” said Tommy, ”I want a very large sum indeed.” ”Perhaps a guinea,” answered Mr Merton.
_Tommy._--No, sir, a great deal more--a great many guineas. _Mr Merton._--Let us however see. _T._--Why, sir, I want at least forty pounds. ”Bless the boy!” answered Mrs Merton; ”surely Mr Barlow must have taught him to be ten times more extravagant than he was before.”
_T._--Indeed, madam, Mr Barlow knows nothing about the matter. ”But,”
said Mr Merton, ”what can such an urchin as you want with such a large sum of money?” ”Sir,” answered Tommy, ”that is a secret; but I am sure when you come to hear it, you will approve of the use I intend to make of it.” _Mr M._--That I very much doubt. _T._--But, sir, if you please, you may let me have this money, and I will pay you again by degrees. _Mr M._--How will you ever be able to pay me such a sum? _T._--Why, sir, you know you are so kind as frequently to give me new clothes and pocket-money; now, if you will only let me have this money, I will neither want new clothes nor anything else till I have made it up. _Mr M._--But what can such a child as you want with all this money?
_T._--Pray, sir, wait a few days and you shall know; and if I make a bad use of it, never believe me again as long as I live.
Mr Merton was extremely struck with the earnestness with which his son persevered in the demand; and, as he was both very rich and liberal, he determined to hazard the experiment, and comply with his request. He accordingly went and fetched him the money which he asked for, and put it into his hands, telling him at the same time that he expected to be acquainted with the use he put it to; and that, if he was not satisfied with the account, he would never trust him again. Tommy appeared in ecstasies at the confidence that was reposed in him, and, after thanking his father for his extraordinary goodness, he desired leave to go back again with Mr Barlow's servant.
When he arrived at Mr Barlow's, his first care was to ask Harry to accompany him again to the farmer's house. Thither the two little boys went with the greatest expedition; and, on their entering the house, found the unhappy family in the same situation as before. But Tommy, who had hitherto suppressed his feelings, finding himself now enabled to execute the project he had formed, went up to the good woman of the house, who sat sobbing in a corner of the room, and, taking her gently by the hand, said, ”My good woman, you were very kind to me in the morning, and therefore I am determined to be kind to you in return.”
”G.o.d bless you, my little master,” said the woman, ”you are very welcome to what you had; but you are not able to do anything to relieve our distress.” ”How do you know that?” said Tommy; ”perhaps I can do more for you than you imagine.” ”Alas!” answered the woman, ”I believe you would do all you could; but all our goods will be seized and sold, unless we can immediately raise the sum of forty pounds; and that is impossible, for we have no earthly friend to a.s.sist us; therefore my poor babes and I must soon be turned out of doors, and G.o.d alone can keep them from starving.”
Tommy's little heart was too much affected to keep the woman longer in suspense; therefore, pulling out his bag of money, he poured it into her lap, saying, ”Here, my good woman, take this and pay your debts, and G.o.d bless you and your children!” It is impossible to express the surprise of the poor woman at the sight; she stared wildly round her, and upon her little benefactor, and, clasping her hands together in an agony of grat.i.tude and feeling, she fell back in her chair with a kind of convulsive motion. Her husband, who was in the next room, seeing her in this condition, ran up to her, and catching her in his arms, asked her with the greatest tenderness what was the matter; but she, springing on a sudden from his embraces, threw herself upon her knees before the little boy, sobbing and blessing with a broken inarticulate voice, embracing his knees and kissing his feet. The husband, who did not know what had happened, imagined that his wife had lost her senses; and the little children, who had before been skulking about the room, ran up to their mother, pulling her by the gown, and hiding their faces in her bosom. But the woman, at the sight of them, seemed to recollect herself, and cried out, ”Little wretches, who must all have been starved without the a.s.sistance of this little angel; why do you not join with me in thanking him?” At this the husband said, ”Surely, Mary, you must have lost your senses. What can this young gentleman do for us or to prevent our wretched babes from peris.h.i.+ng?” ”Oh, William,” said the woman, ”I am not mad, though I may appear so; but look here, William, look what Providence has sent us by the hands of this little angel, and then wonder not that I should be wild.” Saying this, she held up the money, and at the sight her husband looked as wild and astonished as she. But Tommy went up to the man, and, taking him by the hand, said, ”My good friend, you are very welcome to this; I freely give it you; and I hope it will enable you to pay what you owe, and to preserve these poor little children.” But the man, who had before appeared to bear his misfortunes with silent dignity, now burst into tears and sobbed like his wife and children; but Tommy, who now began to be pained with this excess of grat.i.tude, went silently out of the house, followed by Harry; and, before the poor family perceived what had become of him, was out of sight.
When he came back to Mr Barlow's that gentleman received him with the greatest affection, and when he had inquired after the health of Mr and Mrs Merton, asked Tommy whether he had forgotten the story of the grateful Turk. Tommy told him he had not, and should now be very glad to hear the remainder; which Mr Barlow gave him to read, and was as follows:--
”CONTINUATION OF THE HISTORY OF THE GRATEFUL TURK.”
”When Hamet had thus finished his story, the Venetian was astonished at the virtue and elevation of his mind; and after saying everything that his grat.i.tude and admiration suggested, he concluded with pressing him to accept the half of his fortune, and to settle in Venice for the remainder of his life. This offer Hamet refused with the greatest respect, but with a generous disdain; and told his friend that, in what he had done, he had only discharged a debt of grat.i.tude and friends.h.i.+p.
'You were,' said he, 'my generous benefactor; you had a claim upon my life by the benefit you had already conferred; that life would have been well bestowed had it been lost in your service; but since Providence hath otherwise decreed, it is a sufficient recompense to me to have proved that Hamet is not ungrateful, and to have been instrumental to the preservation of your happiness.'
”But though the disinterestedness of Hamet made him underrate his own exertions, the merchant could not remain contented without showing his grat.i.tude by all the means within his power. He therefore once more purchased the freedom of Hamet, and freighted a s.h.i.+p on purpose to send him back to his own country; he and his son then embraced him with all the affection that grat.i.tude could inspire, and bade him, as they thought, an eternal adieu.
<script>