作者：Martineau, Harriet
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The Crofton Boys试读：
CHAPTER I.
ALL THE PROCTORS BUT PHIL.Mr. Proctor, the chemist and druggist, kept his shop, and lived in the Strand, London. His children thought that there was never anything pleasanter than the way they lived. Their house was warm in winter, and such a little distance from the church, that they had no difficulty in getting to church and back again, in the worst weather, before their shoes were wet. They were also conveniently near to Covent Garden market; so that, if any friend dropped in to dinner unexpectedly, Jane and Agnes could be off to the market, and buy a fowl, or some vegetables or fruit, and be back again before they were missed. It was not even too far for little Harry to trot with one of his sisters, early on a summer's morning, to spend his penny (when he happened to have one) on a bunch of flowers, to lay on papa's plate, to surprise him when he came in to breakfast. Not much farther off was the Temple Garden, where Mrs. Proctor took her children every fine summer evening to walk and breathe the air from the river; and when Mr. Proctor could find time to come to them for a turn or two before the younger ones must go home to bed, it seemed to the whole party the happiest and most beautiful place in the whole world,—except one. They had once been to Broadstairs, when the children were in poor health after the measles: and for ever after, when they thought of the waves beating on the shore, and of the pleasures of growing strong and well among the sea-breezes, they felt that there might be places more delightful than the Temple Garden: but they were still very proud and fond of the grass and trees, and the gravel walks, and the view over the Thames, and were pleased to show off the garden to all friends from the country who came to visit them.
The greatest privilege of all, however, was that they could see the river without going out of their own house. There were three back windows to the house, one above another; and from the two uppermost of these windows there was what the children called a view of the Thames. There was a gap of a few yards wide between two high brick houses: and through this gap might be seen the broad river, with vessels of every kind passing up or down. Outside the second window were some leads, affording space for three or four chairs: and here it was that Jane and Agnes liked to sit at work, on certain hours of fine days. There were times when these leads were too hot, the heat of the sun being reflected from the surrounding brick walls; but at an earlier hour before the shadows were gone, and when the air blew in from the river, the place was cool, and the little girls delighted to carry their stools to the leads, and do their sewing there. There Philip would condescend to spend a part of his mornings, in his Midsummer holidays, frightening his sisters with climbing about in dangerous places, or amusing them with stories of school-pranks, or raising his younger brother Hugh's envy of the boys who were so happy as to be old enough to go to school at Mr. Tooke's, at Crofton.
The girls had no peace from their brothers climbing about in dangerous places. Hugh was, if possible, worse than Philip for this. He imitated all Philip's feats, and had some of his own besides. In answer to Jane's lectures and the entreaties of Agnes, Hugh always declared that he had a right to do such things, as he meant to be a soldier or a sailor; and how should he be able to climb the mast of a ship, or the walls of a city, if he did not begin to practise now? Agnes was almost sorry they had been to Broadstairs, and could see ships in the Thames, when she considered that, if Hugh had not seen so much of the world, he might have been satisfied to be apprenticed to his father, when old enough, and to have lived at home happily with his family. Jane advised Agnes not to argue with Hugh, and then perhaps his wish to rove about the world might go off. She had heard her father say that, when he was a boy, and used to bring home news of victories, and help to put up candles at the windows on illumination nights, he had a great fancy for being a soldier; but that it was his fortune to see some soldiers from Spain, and hear from them what war really was, just when peace came, and when there was no more glory to be got; so that he had happily settled down to be a London shop-keeper—a lot which he would not exchange with that of any man living. Hugh was very like papa, Jane added; and the same change might take place in his mind, if he was not made perverse by argument. So Agnes only sighed, and bent her head closer over her work, as she heard Hugh talk of the adventures he meant to have when he should be old enough to get away from Old England.
There was one person that laughed at Hugh for this fancy of his;—Miss Harold, the daily governess, who came to keep school for three hours every morning. When Hugh forgot his lesson, and sat staring at the upper panes of the window, in a reverie about his future travels; or when he was found to have been drawing a soldier on his slate instead of doing his sum, Miss Harold reminded him what a pretty figure a soldier would cut who knew no geography, or a sailor who could not make his reckonings, for want of attending early to his arithmetic. Hugh could not deny this; but he was always wishing that school-hours were over, that he might get under the great dining-table to read Robinson Crusoe, or might play at shipwreck, under pretence of amusing little Harry. It did make him ashamed to see how his sisters got on, from the mere pleasure of learning, and without any idea of ever living anywhere but in London; while he, who seemed to have so much more reason for wanting the very knowledge that they were obtaining, could not settle his mind to his lessons. Jane was beginning to read French books for her amusement in leisure hours; and Agnes was often found to have covered two slates with sums in Practice, just for pleasure, while he could not master the very moderate lessons Miss Harold set him. It is true, he was two years younger than Agnes: but she had known more of everything that he had learned, at seven years old, than he now did at eight. Hugh began to feel very unhappy. He saw that Miss Harold was dissatisfied, and was pretty sure that she had spoken to his mother about him. He felt that his mother became more strict in making him sit down beside her, in the afternoon, to learn his lessons for the next day; and he was pretty sure that Agnes went out of the room because she could not help crying when his sum was found to be all wrong, or when he mistook his tenses, or when he said (as he did every day, though regularly warned to mind what he was about) that four times seven is fifty-six. Every day these things weighed more on Hugh's spirits; every day he felt more and more like a dunce; and when Philip came home for the Midsummer holidays, and told all manner of stories about all sorts of boys at school, without describing anything like Hugh's troubles with Miss Harold, Hugh was seized with a longing to go to Crofton at once, as he was certainly too young to go at present into the way of a shipwreck or a battle. The worst of it was, there was no prospect of his going yet to Crofton. In Mr. Tooke's large school there was not one boy younger than ten; and Philip believed that Mr. Tooke did not like to take little boys. Hugh was aware that his father and mother meant to send him to school with Philip by-and-by; but the idea of having to wait—to do his lessons with Miss Harold every day till he should be ten years old, made him roll himself on the parlour carpet in despair.
Philip was between eleven and twelve. He was happy at school: and he liked to talk all about it at home. These holidays, Hugh made a better listener than even his sisters; and he was a more amusing one—he knew so little about the country. He asked every question that could be imagined about the playground at the Crofton school, and the boys' doings out of school; and then, when Philip fancied he must know all about what was done, out came some odd remark which showed what wrong notions he had formed of a country life. Hugh had not learned half that he wanted to know, and his little head was full of wonder and mysterious notions, when the holidays came to an end, and Philip had to go away. From that day Hugh was heard to talk less of Spain, and the sea, and desert islands, and more of the Crofton boys; and his play with little Harry was all of being at school. At his lessons, meantime, he did not improve at all.
One very warm day, at the end of August, five weeks after Philip had returned to school, Miss Harold had stayed full ten minutes after twelve o'clock to hear Hugh say one line of the multiplication-table over and over again, to cure him of saying that four times seven is fifty-six; but all in vain: and Mrs. Proctor had begged her not to spend any more time to-day upon it.
Miss Harold went away, the girls took their sewing, and sat down at their mother's work-table, while Hugh was placed before her, with his hands behind his back, and desired to look his mother full in the face, to begin again with "four times one is four," and go through the line, taking care what he was about. He did so; but before he came to four times seven, he sighed, fidgetted, looked up at the corners of the room, off into the work-basket, out into the street, and always, as if by a spell, finished with "four times seven is fifty-six." Jane looked up amazed—Agnes looked down ashamed; his mother looked with severity in his face. He began the line a fourth time, when, at the third figure, he started as if he had been shot. It was only a knock at the door that he had heard; a treble knock, which startled nobody else, though, from the parlour door being open, it sounded pretty loud.
Mrs. Proctor spread a handkerchief over the stockings in her work-basket; Jane put back a stray curl which had fallen over her face; Agnes lifted up her head with a sigh, as if relieved that the multiplication-table must stop for this time; and Hugh gazed into the passage, through the open door, when he heard a man's step there. The maid announced Mr. Tooke, of Crofton; and Mr. Tooke walked in.
Mrs. Proctor had actually to push Hugh to one side,—so directly did he stand in the way between her and her visitor. He stood, with his hands still behind his back, gazing up at Mr. Tooke, with his face hotter than the multiplication-table had ever made it, and his eyes staring quite as earnestly as they had ever done to find Robinson Crusoe's island in the map.
"Go, child," said Mrs. Proctor: but this was not enough. Mr. Tooke himself had to pass him under his left arm before he could shake hands with Mrs. Proctor. Hugh was now covered with shame at this hint that he was in the way; but yet he did not leave the room. He stole to the window, and flung himself down on two chairs, as if looking into the street from behind the blind; but he saw nothing that passed out of doors, so eager was his hope of hearing something of the Crofton boys,—their trap-ball, and their Saturday walk with the usher. Not a word of this kind did he hear. As soon as Mr. Tooke had agreed to stay to dinner, his sisters were desired to carry their work elsewhere,—to the leads, if they liked; and he was told that he might go to play. He had hoped he might be overlooked in the window; and unwillingly did he put down first one leg and then the other from the chairs, and saunter out of the room. He did not choose to go near his sisters, to be told how stupidly he had stood in the gentleman's way; so, when he saw that they were placing their stools on the leads, he went up into the attic, and then down into the kitchen, to see where little Harry was, to play at school-boys in the back yard.
The maid Susan was not sorry that Harry was taken off her hands; for she wished to rub up her spoons, and fill her castors afresh, for the sake of the visitor who had come in. The thoughtful Jane soon came down with the keys to get out a clean table-cloth, and order a dish of cutlets, in addition to the dinner, and consult with Susan about some dessert; so that, as the little boys looked up from their play, they saw Agnes sitting alone at work upon the leads.
They had played some time, Hugh acting a naughty boy who could not say his Latin lesson to the usher, and little Harry punishing him with far more words than a real usher uses on such an occasion, when they heard Agnes calling them from above their heads. She was leaning over from the leads, begging Hugh to come up to her,—that very moment. Harry must be left below, as the leads were a forbidden place for him. So Harry went to Jane, to see her dish up greengage plums which he must not touch: and Hugh ran up the stairs. As he passed through the passage, his mother called him. Full of some kind of hope (he did not himself know what), he entered the parlour, and saw Mr. Tooke's eyes fixed on him. But his mother only wanted him to shut the door as he passed; that was all. It had stood open, as it usually did on warm days. Could his mother wish it shut on account of anything she was saying? It was possible.
"O Hugh!" exclaimed Agnes, as soon as he set foot on the leads. "What do you think?—But is the parlour door shut? Who shut it?"
"Mother bade me shut it, as I passed."
"O dear!" said Agnes, in a tone of disappointment; "then she did not mean us to hear what they were talking about."
"What was it? Anything about the Crofton boys? Anything about Phil?"
"I cannot tell you a word about it. Mamma did not know I heard them. How plain one can hear what they say in that parlour, Hugh, when the door is open! What do you think I heard mamma tell Mrs. Bicknor, last week, when I was jumping Harry off the third stair?"
"Never mind that. Tell me what they are talking about now. Do, Agnes."
Agnes shook her head.
"Now do, dear."
It was hard for Agnes to refuse Hugh anything, at any time; more still when he called her "dear," which he seldom did; and most of all when he put his arm round her neck, as he did now. But she answered,—
"I should like to tell you every word; but I cannot now. Mamma has made you shut the door. She does not wish you to hear it."
"Me! Then will you tell Jane?"
"Yes. I shall tell Jane, when we are with mamma at work."
"That is too bad!" exclaimed Hugh, flinging himself down on the leads so vehemently that his sister was afraid he would roll over into the yard. "What does Jane care about Crofton and the boys to what I do?"
"There is one boy there that Jane cares about more than you do, or I, or anybody, except papa and mamma. Jane loves Phil."
"O, then, what they are saying in the parlour is about Phil."
"I did not say that."
"You pretend you love me as Jane loves Phil! and now you are going to tell her what you wont tell me! Agnes, I will tell you everything I know all my whole life, if you will just whisper this now. Only just whisper—Or, I will tell you what. I will guess and guess; and you can nod or shake your head. That wont be telling."
"For shame, Hugh! Phil would laugh at you for being a girl, if you are so curious. What mamma told Mrs. Bicknor was that Jane was her right hand. What do you think that meant exactly?"
"That Jane might give you a good slap when you are so provoking," said Hugh, rolling over and over, till his clothes were covered with dust, and Agnes really thought once that he was fairly going over the edge into the yard.
"There is something that I can tell you, Hugh; something that I want to tell you, and nobody else," said Agnes, glad to see him stop rolling about, and raise himself on his dusty elbow to look at her.
"Well, come, what is it?"
"You must promise beforehand not to be angry."
"Angry! when am I angry, pray? Come, tell me."
"You must—you really must—I have a particular reason for saying so—you must learn how much four times seven is. Now, remember, you promised not to be angry."
Hugh carried off his anger by balancing himself on his head, as if he meant to send his heels over, but that there was no room. From upside down, his voice was heard saying that he knew that as well as Agnes.
"Well, then, how much is it?"
"Twenty-eight, to be sure. Who does not know that?"
"Then pray do not call it fifty-six any more. Miss Harold——"
"There's the thing," said Hugh. "When Miss Harold is here, I can think of nothing but fifty-six. It seems to sound in my ears, as if somebody spoke it, 'four times seven is fifty-six.'"
"You will make me get it by heart, too, if you say it so often," said Agnes. "You had better say 'twenty-eight' over to yourself all day long. You may say it to me as often as you like. I shall not get tired. Come, begin now—'four times seven——'"
"I have had enough of that for to-day—tiresome stuff! Now, I shall go and play with Harry again."
"But wait—just say that line once over, Hugh. I have a reason for wishing it. I have, indeed."
"Mother has been telling Mr. Tooke that I cannot say my multiplication-table! Now, that is too bad!" exclaimed Hugh. "And they will make me say it after dinner! What a shame!"
"Why, Hugh! you know mamma does not like—you know mamma would not—you know mamma never does anything unkind. You should not say such things, Hugh."
"Ay, there! you cannot say that she has not told Mr. Tooke that I say my tables wrong."
"Well—you know you always do say it wrong to her."
"I will go somewhere. I will hide myself. I will run to the market while the cloth is laying. I will get away, and not come back till Mr. Tooke is gone. I will never say my multiplication-table to him!"
"Never?" said Agnes, with an odd smile and a sigh. "However, do not talk of running away, or hiding yourself. You will not have to say anything to Mr. Tooke to-day."
"How do you know?"
"I feel sure you will not. I do not believe Mr. Tooke will talk to you, or to any of us. There you go! You will be in the water-butt in a minute, if you tumble so."
"I don't care if I am. Mr. Tooke will not come there to hear me say my tables. Let me go!" he cried, struggling, for now Agnes had caught him by the ankle. "If I do tumble in, the water is not up to my chin, and it will be a cool hiding-place this hot day."
"But there is Susan gone to lay the cloth; and you must be brushed; for you are all over dust. Come up, and I will brush you."
Hugh was determined to have a little more dust first. He rolled once more the whole length of the leads, turned over Jane's stool, and upset her work-basket, so that her thimble bounded off to a far corner, and the shirt-collar she was stitching fell over into the water-butt.
"There! what will Jane say?" cried Agnes, picking up the basket, and peeping over into the small part of the top of the water-butt which was not covered.
"There never was anything like boys for mischief," said the maid Susan, who now appeared to pull Hugh in, and make him neat. Susan always found time, between laying the cloth and bringing up dinner, to smooth Hugh's hair, and give a particular lock a particular turn on his forehead with a wet comb.
"Let that alone," said Hugh, as Agnes peeped into the butt after the drowning collar. "I will have the top off this afternoon, and it will make good fishing for Harry and me."
Agnes had to let the matter alone; for Hugh was so dusty that she had to brush one side of him while Susan did the other. Susan gave him some hard knocks while she assured him that he was not going to have Harry up on the leads to learn his tricks, or to be drowned. She hardly knew which of the two would be the worst for Harry. It was lucky for Hugh that Susan was wanted below directly, for she scolded him the whole time she was parting and smoothing his hair. When it was done, however, and the wet lock on his forehead took the right turn at once, she gave him a kiss in the very middle of it, and said she knew he would be a good boy before the gentleman from the country.
Hugh would not go in with Agnes, because he knew Mr. Tooke would shake hands with her, and take notice of any one who was with her. He waited in the passage till Susan carried in the fish, when he entered behind her, and slipped to the window till the party took their seats, when he hoped Mr. Tooke would not observe who sat between Agnes and his father. But the very first thing his father did was to pull his head back by the hair behind, and ask him whether he had
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