Part 4 (1/2)

CHAPTER IV -- WHEREIN IS COMMENCED THE ADVENTURE OF THE MACINTOSH, AND OTHER MATTERS

”How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds, Makes ill deeds done.”

”Come, tailor, let us see't;

Oh! mercy.... What masking stuff is here?

What's this? a sleeve?”

”Disguise, I see; thou art a wickedness Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.”

”A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!”

--Shakspeare.

ON returning to the pupils' room Lawless commenced (to my great delight, as I thereby enjoyed a complete immunity from his somewhat troublesome attentions) a full, true, and particular account of the pigeon-match, in which his friend Clayton had, with unrivalled skill, slain a sufficient number of victims to furnish forth pies for the supply of the whole mess during the ensuing fortnight. At length, however, all was said that could be said, even upon this interesting subject, and the narrator, casting his eyes around in search of wherewithal to amuse himself, chanced to espy my new writing-desk, a parting gift from my little sister f.a.n.n.y, who, with the self-denial of true affection, had saved up her pocket-money during many previous months in order to provide funds for this munificent present.

”Pinafore, is that desk yours?” demanded Lawless.

Not much admiring the _sobriquet_ by which he chose to address me, I did not feel myself called upon to reply.

”Are you deaf, stupid? don't you hear me speaking to you?--where did you get that writing-desk?”

Still I did not answer.

”Sulky, eh? I shall have to lick him before long, I see. Here you, what's your name? Fairlegh, did your grand-mother give you that writing-desk?”

”No,” replied I, ”my sister f.a.n.n.y gave it to me the day before I left home.”

”Oh, you have got a sister f.a.n.n.y, have you? how old is she, and what is she like?”

”She is just thirteen, and she has got the dearest little face in the world,” answered I, earnestly, as the recollection of her bright blue eyes and sunny smile came across me.

-29--”How interesting!” sighed Coleman; ”it quite makes my heart beat; you could not send for her, could you?”

”And she gave you that desk, did she?--how very kind of her,” resumed Lawless, putting the poker in the fire.

”Yes, was it not?” said I, eagerly. ”I would not have any harm happen to it for more than I can tell.”

”So I suppose,” replied Lawless, still devoting himself to the poker, which was rapidly becoming red-hot. ”Have you ever,” continued he, ”seen this new way they have of ornamenting things? encaustic work, I think they call it:--it's done by the application of heat, you know.”

”I never even heard of it,” said I.

”Ah! I thought not,” rejoined Lawless. ”Well, as I happen to understand the process, I'll condescend to enlighten your ignorance. Mullins, give me that desk.”

”Don't touch it,” cried I, bounding forward to the rescue; ”I won't have anything done to it.”

[Ill.u.s.tration: page29 Ornamenting a Writing Desk]

My design was, however, frustrated by c.u.mberland and Lawless, who, both throwing themselves upon me at the same moment, succeeded, despite my struggles, in forcing me into a chair, where they held me, while Mullins, by their direction, with the aid of sundry neckcloths, braces, etc., tied me hand and foot; Coleman, who attempted to interfere in my behalf, receiving a push which sent him reeling across the room, and a hint that if he did not mind his own business he would be served in the same manner.

Having thus effectually placed me _hors de combat_, Lawless took possession of my poor writing-desk, and commenced tracing on the top thereof, with the red-hot poker, what he was pleased to term a ”design from the antique,” which consisted of a spirited outline of that riddle-loving female the Sphinx, as she appeared when dressed in top-boots and a wide-awake, and regaling herself with a choice cigar! He was giving the finis.h.i.+ng touch to a large pair of moustaches, with which he had embellished her countenance, and which he declared was the only thing wanting to complete the likeness to an old aunt of Dr. Mildman's, whom the pupils usually designated by the endearing appellation of ”Growler,” when the door opened, and Thomas announced that ”Smithson”