Part 23 (2/2)

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”Wootton stood quite upright on the pinnacle of the steeple.”]

STEEPLE-CLIMBERS.

Cleverness or skill in doing some particular thing has been noticed to recur in families, and steeple-climbing is one example, we are told. At Nottingham there was a family named Wootton, members of which had for centuries the reputation of being daring steeple-climbers, not for adventure, but in the way of business. Such persons were also called steeplejacks, and they were paid liberally for their exploits, as they deserved to be.

Robert Wootton, who lived in the time of King George III., was famous for repairing steeples and spires without using a scaffold; he did his work by the help of ladders, hooks, and ropes. When he repaired St.

Peter's spire, Nottingham, in 1789, having finished his work, he beat a drum at its top, thousands of people looking on. Another of the Woottons undertook the perilous task of ascending the spire of St. Mary's, Manchester, which was very lofty. By a tremendous wind the ball and cross had been bent down, and looked dangerous. This steeple-climber raised ladders one after the other, a.s.sisted by blocks and ropes, and secured each in succession to the stonework with clamps. When he got near the top of the spire the work became more difficult, and the spectators anxiously watched him as he fixed the last ladder. Having accomplished this feat, Wootton stepped from the ladder on to the crown or pinnacle of the steeple, and stood quite upright, with his hands free. Then he raised a cheer, which was responded to by the crowds below. More extraordinary still, one of these steeple-climbers is said to have performed the feat of standing upon his head on a steeple's top; but there is some doubt about the story.

J. R. S. C.

THE BOY TRAMP.

(_Continued from page 71._)

CHAPTER IX.

It was agreeable to think that I had nothing to do, and with my hands in my pockets I turned to the right, strolling towards the railway station, a few yards from which was a level crossing. The station yard and booking office stood on the left, and before the entrance were one or two old-fas.h.i.+oned-looking cabs; one in particular I noticed, having a body like a small stage-coach and yellow wheels.

As I hung about the doorway it was alarming to realise that in spite of my two days' journeying, and of all the accompanying dangers, I might take a ticket and reach Castlemore in little over half an hour, and that consequently any one else could travel from Castlemore to Polehampton in the same short time. But it was easy to persuade myself that n.o.body would feel the least desire to travel a yard on my account, although I denied myself the pleasure of going on to the platform. Leaving the station yard, I turned towards Mrs. Riddles' cottage again, and pa.s.sing this came to a standstill in front of a few shops on the opposite side of the way. One was a butcher's; next to the butcher's was a grocer's, and in its window I saw a card:

'ACTIVE LAD WANTED.'

I read, and as I stood gazing at the card, a short, red-haired man came to the door, rubbing his hands and looking smilingly about him.

'Do you want a berth?' he asked, after he had eyed me once or twice.

'I don't know,' I answered.

'A stranger here?'

'Yes,' I said.

'Ah, well,' he answered, 'even if you wanted a job, I could not take you without a character. But Mr. Raikes, at the Home Farm down the road, would take any one this morning. He has got his large field of hay down, and it will probably rain before Monday. If he does not get it carried to-night, as likely as not half will be spoilt.'

With that he re-entered his shop, while I strolled on at first aimlessly down the street.

I began to wonder how far it was to the Home Farm. A day's hay-making seemed to be a kind of play, and if one could be paid for such amus.e.m.e.nt, so much the better. For now that I had paid Mrs. Riddles I had only five s.h.i.+llings, and when once I started again they would not go very far. I had sufficient forethought to return to the cottage and ask for some luncheon to put in my pocket; then, armed with a slice of bread and a chunk of the fat bacon from which I had supped the previous night, I set out for the farm.

There was a large field adjoining the road, with an open gate. At the farther end, two carts were being loaded, but nearer the road, several men and women were busily making the rows of hay into c.o.c.ks. Close at hand stood a tall, sparely built farmer with a cane in his hand and a fox-terrier by his side. He seemed to be trying to hurry everybody along, and there was an air of bustle and haste about the whole scene.

Although the sun shone hotly, threatening clouds were coming up, and it would require a hard day's work to get all the hay carried by nightfall.

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