It is curious to study the different things which please boys.
Anything less likely to form a fortnight's amusement for a lad than the
iron-pipes, crooks, bends, elbows, syphons and boiler delivered by
waggon from the nearest railway, it would be hard to conceive. But to
Vane they were a source of endless delight, and it thoroughly puzzled
him to find Bruff, the gardener, muttering and grumbling about their
weight.
"It arn't gardener's work, sir, that's why I grumbled," said the man.
"My work's flowers and vegetables and sech. I arn't used to such jobs
as that."
"Why, what difference does it make?" cried Vane.
"A deal, sir. Don't seem respectful to a man whose dooty's flowers and
vegetables and sech, to set him hauling and heaving a lot o' iron-pipes
just got down for your pranks."
"Well, of all the ungrateful, grumbling fellows!" cried Vane. "Isn't it
to save you from coming up here on cold, frosty nights to stoke the
fire?"
"Nay, bud it wean't," said Bruff, with a grin. "Look here, Mester Vane,
I've sin too many of your contraptions not to know better. You're going
to have the greenhouse pulled all to pieces, and the wall half knocked
down to try your bits o' tricks, and less than a month they'll all have
to be pulled out again, and a plain, good, old English flue 'll have to
be put up as ought to be done now."
"You're a stubborn old stick-in-the-way, Bruff. Why, if you could have
done as you liked, there would never have been any railway down here.
Mind! don't break that. Cast-iron's brittle."
"Brittle! It's everything as is bad, sir. But you're right, theere.
Niver a bit o' railway would I hev hed. Coach and waggon was good enew
for my feyther, and it was good enew for me."
"Come along," said Vane; "let's get all in their places, as they'll be
in the greenhouse."
"Ay, we'll get 'em in, I suppose," grumbled the gardener, "bud you mark
my words, Mester Vane; them water pipes 'll nivver get hot, and, when
they do, they'll send out a nasty, pysonous steam as'll kill ivery
plahnt in the greenhouse. Now, you see?"
"Grumble away," said Vane; and Bruff did grumble. He found fault at
being taken away from his work to help in Master Vane's whims, murmured
at having to help move the boiler, and sat down afterwards, declaring
that he had hurt his back, and could do no more that day; whereupon
Vane, who was much concerned, was about to fetch the doctor, but Bruff
suddenly felt a little better, and gradually came round.
Matters had gone as far as this when voices were heard in the avenue,
and Gilmore and Macey made their appearance.
Vane's first movement was to run and get his jacket to put on; but he
stopped himself, and stood fast.
"I don't mind their seeing me," he muttered. But he did, and winced as
the joking began, Gilmore taking a high tone, and asking Vane for an
estimate for fitting up a vinery for him.
Gilmore and Macey both saw that their jokes gave annoyance; and, to turn
them off, offered to help, Macey immediately taking off his coat,
hanging it over the greenhouse door, and seizing the end of a pipe to
move it where it was not wanted.
"Don't be jealous, Bruff," he cried, as he saw the gardener stare.
"I'll leave a little bit of work for you to do."
Bruff grinned and scratched his head.
"Oh, if it comes to that, Mester Macey," he said, "you come here any
time, and I'll give you some sensible work to do, diggin' or sweeping."
"I say," whispered Vane, the next minute, when he had contrived to get
Macey alone, "what made you take off your coat?"
"So as to help."
"No, it wasn't, or not alone for that. You were thinking about what
Distin said about my not being fit to associate with gentlemen."
Macey flushed a little, like a girl.
"Nonsense!" he said.
"Now, confess. The truth!"
"Oh, I don't know. Well, perhaps. Here, come along, or we shan't get
done to-day."
They did not get done that day; in fact they had hardly begun when it
was time to leave off; and though there was plenty of fun and joking and
banging together of pieces of iron-pipe and noise which brought out the
doctor to see, and Aunt Hannah in a state of nervousness to make sure
that nobody was hurt, Vane did not enjoy his work, for he could not help
glancing at his dirty hands, and asking himself whether Distin was not
right. And at these times his fellow-pupil's fastidiously clean hands
and unruffled, prim and dandified aspect came before him, making him
feel resolved to be more particular as to the character of the hobbies
he rode.
At parting, when Gilmore and Macey were taking leave after a visit to
Vane's room and a plenteous application of soap and nail-brushes, in
spite of their declaration that they had had a jolly day, their leader--
their foreman of the works, as Gilmore called him--had quite made up his
mind that he would let the bricklayer and blacksmith finish the job. In
consequence of his resolve, he was up by six o'clock next morning when
the men came, meaning to superintend, but he soon lapsed, and was as
busy as either of them.
Vane fully expected a severe encounter with Martha apropos of her
kitchen-fire being left unlit, and the litter of brick and mortar
rubbish made by the bricklayer; but to his surprise the cook did not
come into the kitchen, and during breakfast Vane asked why this was.
"Aunt's diplomancy," said the doctor, merrily.
"No, no, my dear. Your uncle's," cried Aunt Hannah.
"Ah, well, halves," cried the doctor. "Martha wanted a holiday to visit
her friends, and she started last night for two days. Can you get the
boiler set and all right for Mrs Bruff to clean up before Martha comes
back?"
"You must, my dear, really," cried Aunt Hannah. "You must."
"Oh, very well, aunt, if the bricklayer will only work well, it shall be
done."
"Thank you, my dear, for really I should not dare to meet Martha if
everything were not ready; and pray, pray, my dear, see that nothing is
done to interfere with her kitchen-fire."
The doctor laughed. Vane promised, and forgetful entirely of
appearances he deputed his uncle to go to the rectory and excuse him for
two days, and worked like a slave. The result was that not only was the
boiler set in the wall behind the kitchen-fire, and all put perfectly
straight before the next night, but the iron-pipes, elbows, and syphons
were joined together with their india-rubber rings, and supported on
brick piers, the smith having screwed in a couple of taps for turning
off the communication in hot weather, and the fitting of the boiler; and
pipes through the little iron cistern at the highest point completing
the work.
"Ought by rights, sir, to stand for a few days for the mortar to set,"
said the bricklayer on leaving; and this opinion being conveyed to Aunt
Hannah, she undertook that Martha, should make shift in the back kitchen
for a day or two--just as they had during her absence.
"She will not like it, my dear," said Aunt Hannah, "but as there is no
muddle to clean up, and all looks right, I don't mind making her do
that."
"Real tyrant of the household, Vane," said the doctor. "Don't you ever
start housekeeping and have a cook."
Everything had been finished in such excellent time, consequent upon
certain bribery and corruption in the shape of half-crowns, that early
in the evening, Vane, free from all workmanlike traces, was able to
point triumphantly to the neat appearance of the job, and explain the
working of the supply cistern, and of the stop-cocks between the boiler
and the pipes to his aunt and uncle.
"I thought there ought only to be one tap," said Vane; "but they both
declared that there ought to be one to each pipe, so as to stop the
circulation; and as it only cost a few shillings more I didn't stop the
smith from putting it in."
"Humph!" said the doctor as Vane turned first one and then the other tap
on and off, "seems to work nice and easy."
"And it does look very much neater than all those bricks," said Aunt
Hannah. "But I must say one thing, my dear, though I don't like to damp
your project, it does smell very nasty indeed."
"Oh, aunt, dear," cried Vane merrily; "that's nothing: only the
Brunswick black with which they have painted the pipes. That smell will
all go off when it's hard and dry. That wants to dry slowly, too, so
you'll be sure and tell Martha about not lighting the fire."
"Oh, yes, my dear, I'll see to that."
"Then now I shall go up to the rectory and tell them I'm coming to
lessons in the morning, and--" he hesitated--"I think I shall give up
doing rough jobs for the future."
"Indeed," said the doctor with a humorous twinkle in his eye; "wouldn't
you like to take the church clock to pieces, and clean it and set it
going again?"
Vane turned sharply on his uncle with an appealing look.
"Now really, my dear, you shouldn't," cried Aunt Hannah. "Don't, don't,
pray, set the boy thinking about doing any more such dirty work."
"Dirty work? quite an artist's job. I only mentioned it because Mr
Syme told me that a man would be over from Lincoln to-morrow to see to
the clock. Quite time it was done."
Vane hurried off to escape his uncle's banter, and was soon after in the
lane leading up to the rectory, where, as luck had it, he saw Distin
walking slowly on in front, and, acting on the impulse of the moment, he
ran after him.
"Evening," he cried.
Distin turned his head slowly, and looked him coldly in the face.
"I beg your pardon," he drawled, "were you speaking to me?"
"Oh, hang it, Distie, yes," cried Vane. "What's the good of us two
being out. Shake hands. I'm sorry if I said anything to offend you and
hope you'll forgive me if there is anything to forgive."
Distin stared at him haughtily.
"Really," he said in rather a drawling manner, "I am at a loss to
understand what you mean by addressing me like this, sir."
"Oh, I say, Distie, don't take that queer tone to a fellow," cried Vane,
who could not help feeling nettled. "Here, shake hands--there's a good
fellow."
He held out his own once more for the other to take, but Distin ignored
it, and half turning away he said:--
"Have the goodness to address me next time when I have spoken to you. I
came down here to read with Mr Syme, and I shall go on doing so, but I
presume it is open to me to choose whom I please for my associates, and
I shall select gentlemen."
"Well," said Vane, shortly, "my father was a gentleman; and do you mean
to insinuate that my uncle and aunt are not a gentleman and lady?"
"I refuse to discuss matters with every working-class sort of boy I am
forced to encounter," said Distin, haughtily. "Have the goodness to
keep yourself to yourself, and to associate with people of your own
class. Good-evening."
"Have the goodness to associate with people of your own class!" said
Vane, unconsciously repeating his fellow-pupil's words. "I don't like
fighting, but, oh, how he did make my fingers itch to give him one good
solid punch in the head."
Vane stood looking at the retiring figure thoroughly nettled now.
"Ugh!" he exclaimed, "what a nasty mean temper to have. It isn't manly.
It's like a spiteful boarding-school girl. Well, I'm not going down on
my knees to him. I can get on without Distin if he can get on without
me. But it is so petty and mean to go on about one liking to do a bit
of mechanical work. One can read classics and stick to one's
mathematics all the same, and if I can't write a better paper than he
can it's a queer thing."
Vane turned to go back to the Little Manor, for, in spite of his
defiant, careless way of treating Distin's words, he could not help
feeling too much stung to care about continuing his journey to the
rectory, for the feeling would come to the front that his fellow-pupil
had some excuse for what he had said.
"I suppose I did look like a blacksmith's or bricklayer's boy to-day,"
he said to himself. "But if I did, what business is it of his? There's
nothing disgraceful in it, or uncle would soon stop me. And, besides,
Gilmore and Macey don't seem to mind, and their families are far higher
than Distin's. There: I don't care. I was going to give up all kind of
work that dirties one's hands, but now I will not, just out of spite.
Dirty work, indeed! I'll swear I never looked half so dirty over my
carpentering and turning and scheming as I've seen him look after a game
at football on a wet day."
But all the same, the evening at the Little Manor seemed to be a very
dull one; and when, quite late, the carrier's cart stopped at the gate,
and cook got down, Vane felt no interest in knowing what she would say
about the alterations in her kitchen, nor in knowing whether Aunt Hannah
had spoken to her about not lighting the kitchen-fire.
But he revived a little after his supper, and was eager to take a candle
and go out of the hall-door and along the gravel-path, shading the
light, on his way to the greenhouse, where he had a good quiet
inspection of his work, and was delighted to find that the india-rubber
joints hardly leaked in the least, and no more than would be cured by
the swelling of the caoutchouc, as soon as the pipes were made hot, and
the rings began to fit more tightly, by filling up the uneven places in
the rough iron.
Everything looked delightfully fresh and perfect; the pipes glistened of
an ebon blackness; the two brass taps shone new and smooth; and the
various plants and flowers exhaled their scent and began to master that
of the Brunswick black.
Soon after satisfying himself that all was right, he made his way up to
his bedroom, so thoroughly tired out by the bodily exertion of the two
past days that he dropped off at once into a heavy, dreamless sleep,
which was brought to an end about eight o'clock the next morning by a
sensation of his having been seized by a pair of giant hands and thrown
suddenly and heavily upon the bedroom floor.