Part 6 (1/2)
”Imagination follows the boy to his happy home, where his father welcomes him with a hearty shake of the hand, his mother with a fond clinging embrace, and his sisters with smiles and kisses; while his younger brothers, who have been on the watch for hours, greet him with shouts of delight, and hurry him away to see their favourite rabbits, and pet guinea-pigs, and mice. Who so happy as a school-boy home for the holidays!
”But amid all the excitement, and hurry, and joy, and noise, and confusion, how unutterably miserable is that boy who has no home to go to, and is to remain at school during the holidays; his face is like a cloud amid the suns.h.i.+ne, a frown amid smiles; he views the preparations of each departing boy with envy, and, try all he can, he cannot a.s.sume a _nonchalant_ or I-don't-care kind of air, nor prevent a lump rising in his throat, and an occasional dimness gathering over his eyes. May be he hides himself away that he may not see the general departure of all his school-fellows, and as their joyous shouts reach him in his hiding-place, he puts his fingers in his ears to shut out the noise which means such loneliness for himself.
”It so chanced that one Michaelmas I was the one unfortunate boy who was left 'sole monarch of all I surveyed.' My parents were away on the Continent, and, unable to reach home in time, had requested the master, as a favour, to allow me to remain at Ascot House during the holidays. I was anything but pleased myself at the arrangement, but was compelled to grin and bear it.
”I will not be _too_ sure, but I think I hid myself and cried, after Willie Wilc.o.x, the last boy to leave, had shaken me by the hand, saying, 'Cheer up, old fellow; I'm sorry for you, but I suppose it can't be helped. I'll write you a line while I am away.' It was all very well to say 'Cheer up,' but my spirits had gradually sunk at each boy's departure, until they were far below zero when I found myself alone. I wandered aimlessly about the playground, which had never before appeared so deserted or silent, kicking stones about with my feet, and making holes in the ground with the heels of my boots. I sauntered up to the school-room windows, and stared in at the empty room, and at the long desks, which looked strange and unfamiliar. Even the doctor's wife did not raise my spirits when she kindly said, 'You may go into the garden, Hall, whenever you like, and pick some fruit, but be sure you do not eat too much, so as to make yourself unwell.' I availed myself of the privilege, and ate more fruit than I have ever done since. No, nothing could banish the cloud from my face, nor the gloom from my heart. I never knew what loneliness was before. Even night did not wrap me in forgetfulness, for although by way of variety I lay in a different bed each night, sleep seemed to have gone home for a holiday as well as the boys, for it would seldom visit my couch.
”This state of things went on for a week. I took long walks, but the zest seemed to have gone out of them since I was alone, for they were nothing like so pleasant as when my companions were with me. A change came, however, which made the remaining days a little more bright and cheery.
”On the first day of the second week of the holidays, I had sauntered away from the house, and was hunting for nuts in a little wood or plantation, not far from the grounds of Squire Aveling. I was absorbed in my occupation until I heard a scream in the adjoining lane, and the terrified voice of a girl exclaim, 'Oh! papa! papa! do come!' and then another scream, followed by the deep bay of a dog. I bounded from the wood, cleared the old palings which separated it from the lane with one jump, and was just in time to throttle a big brute of a dog round the neck, as it was in the very act of springing upon a little girl, who, in terror, was crouching down in the road.
”The dog was strong, and I found it no easy matter to hold the brute, and restrain its savage attempts to catch some part of my person between its jaws. But just at the moment when I thought I could hold on no longer, and should be compelled to relinquish my grasp, and while tumbling over and over in the dust, a voice cried out--while I could hear rapid steps approaching,--'Hold on; I'll be with you in a minute;' and almost at the same instant the dog was pulled from my grasp, and a heavy whip descended upon its back and flanks, causing it to yell out so l.u.s.tily that the wood echoed again.
”By the time I had risen to my feet, and shaken some of the dust from my clothes, the dog had run howling away, while as pretty a looking little girl as ever I saw was clinging round the neck of a tall gentleman, who was endeavouring to hush her terrified sobs. This was soon accomplished, for what child does not feel safe in its father's arms? and the gentleman, turning to me, held out his hand, and, with a smile, said,--
”'Let me thank you heartily and warmly for saving my little girl from that savage dog.'
”'Oh, sir,' I replied, blus.h.i.+ng up to the roots of my hair, 'it was not much; I should have been a coward had I not done as I did.'
”'My little maid here does not think it was a mere nothing, neither do I. I don't think many boys would have had the courage to do what you did.'
”'I think, sir, that you can't know much about boys to say that, for I could bring no end of a number who would have done the same thing; aye, and better than I did.'
”'Well, I won't contradict you; but what is your name? and where do you come from?'
”'My name, sir,' I replied, 'is Hall--Arthur Hall, and I am one of the boys from Ascot House.'
”'But how is it you are here--I thought it was holiday-time?'
”'So it is, sir; but my friends are away on the Continent, and I am staying at the school through the holidays.'
”How do you like it?'
”'Not at all; I am as lonely and miserable as a rat that has lost its hole.'
”'Well, come up to the house and give your clothes a brush. I suppose you know who I am?'
”'Yes, sir; you are Squire Aveling.'
”When we arrived at the house, Squire Aveling introduced me to his wife, as beautiful and kind a lady as I have ever known, who, when she heard what I had done, fairly kissed me as if I had been her own son.
Both the squire and his wife would not hear of my going away until evening; so I stayed and had dinner with them, while their little girl--Alice, they called her--took me round the gardens and grounds to show me all the beauties of the place. Some preparations were going on at the end of the lawn, which was opposite the front of the house; a marquee was being erected, several swings were being put up, while the lawn itself was being mowed. My conductress informed me these preparations were to celebrate her birthday, which was the day after.
”In the evening, the squire himself walked to Ascot House with me, where he saw the doctor's wife, and asked her to allow me to visit them on the morrow, as his little girl was going to entertain a host of young friends, the number of which would not be complete unless I made one of them. Permission was given, and I went to bed to dream of the pleasures the morrow was to bring.
”I was up early enough on the following morning, no such thing as oversleeping one's-self when there was a prospect of pleasure in view.
(How well it would be if we--you and I, young reader--could be as active when duty and not pleasure calls!) I oiled and scented my hair to perfection, put on my best frilled s.h.i.+rt, made Jim, our odd boy, polish my boots until he could see his face in them; discarded my straw hat and took to the chimney-pot (_i.e._ my best beaver), saw that there was not a speck of dirt on my clothes, viewed myself all over in the gla.s.s, nearly dislocated my neck in trying to get a glimpse of my back, but found my efforts fruitless; and finally put on my best kid gloves, after which I found I had still two hours to spare, and dinner to eat in the meantime.
”The time went by, and at length I set out for my destination, with both a bounding heart and a bounding step, the one keeping pace with the other, as though there existed some private agreement by which they acted in unison, and fulfilled the requirements of the old proverb, 'A light heart, a light step.'
”I was kindly welcomed by the squire and his lady, and by them introduced to their two sons, who had returned the same day from visiting friends; they both thanked me heartily for the service I had rendered to their sister, whom, they said, they 'would not have had hurt for the world.' This I could well believe, as I watched her darting hither and thither, like a good little fairy, in and out among her friends, with a word for one, a kiss for another, and a caress for a third.