_Tom's Presents._
I was sitting behind the Counter, when a smart-looking, sunburnt young
Man of about two-and-twenty, attired as a Sailor, came into the Shop.
He said, "Hallo, _Patty_! how are you?" I said, "Why, _Tom_! can it be
you? I thought you had been in _China_!"
"I _have_ been there," says he, "true enough; more-by-Token, here's a
_China_ Orange for you;" and clapped one into my Hand with such Force
that it went near to go through it.
"How are you all?" said he; "I'm glad to see you, and I hope you're
glad to see me."
"Oh yes, very glad, _Tom_; pray walk into the Parlour--we are all at
Home."
"How are you, _Uncle_?" says he, so loud and sudden that he made my
Father jump. "And you, _Aunt_!"--kissing her. "And you!" kissing _Prue_
too.
"'Manners, _Jack_!'" says my Father, quoting _Gatty's_ Letter.
"My Name's _Tom_, _Uncle_, not _Jack_, though I suppose you meant _Jack
Tar_. Well! so here you all are! I've only just landed--Didn't forget
one of you in foreign Lands; I've brought my _Aunt_ a Monkey."
"A nasty Beast!" cries my _Father_; "we won't have him here, _Tom_!
He'll break all my China."
"Well, _Uncle_, I thought she _might_ do a little Damage that Way,
('tis the prettiest little Creature you ever saw; her Ears are bored,
and her Name's _Jessy_!) So I brought you, Sir, a Tea-Service, to
cover Breakages; the Cups and Saucers fitting into each other; and
the Teapot, no bigger than this Orange, fitting in o' Top; the whole
Concern packs in a Cylinder no bigger than a Spice-Box."
"Dear _Tom_," says my _Mother_, nervously, "we've more Tea-Services
already than we should know what to do with, if we did not keep a
genteel Kind of Tea-Garden for the Quality."
"But as you do, Ma'am, won't it be acceptable? Or otherwise, won't
you want _Jessy_ to break it? She's the prettiest little Dear you can
imagine, the Darling of the whole Ship. Well! it seems you're each
discontented with the other's Presents;--my _Uncle_ don't like your
having the Monkey, and you don't like his having the Crockery. Then
I'll tell you what I'll do--chop and change. I'll take your Presents
down to my _Father_ and _Mother_, and you shall have theirs. I've
bought _you_ a Pair of Slippers, _Prue_, but of course they're too
big."
And out he pulled a Pair of little _Chinese_ Slippers that might have
pinched _Cinderella_.
"I'm sure you can't wear them, _Prue_," said I.
"I'm sure I shan't try," said she, jerking her Chin.
"Well, _Patty_, since I could find you Nothing better, I've brought you
a Feather Fan with an Ivory Handle."
"Thank you, _Tom_!" said I; "it will do nicely to flap the Flies off
the Pastry."
"And since you, _Aunt_, will not have the Monkey, you must be content
with some Gunpowder Tea."
"I shall like that a great deal better, _Tom_, I assure you. The only
Sort of Gunpowder I approve."
Here _Tom_ pulled out of his Pocket what looked like a Mahogany Rule,
about nine Inches long. "Now, Sir," says he to my _Father_, "what's
that?"
"I can't for the Life of me tell," says my _Father_, after eyeing it
askance and then handling it.
"I knew you couldn't! See," (unfolding it,) "it's a Boot-jack!"
"A queer one, _Tom_!"
"And what is it now? Why, a Reading-Desk! What is it now? A Cribbage
Board!"
"Ha! _Tom_, that's ingenious."
"Ingenious, _Uncle_? I believe it is! What is it now? A Ruler. What is
it now? A pair of Snuffers."
"Ha, ha, ha!"
"Ah, I knew you'd laugh--what is it now? An eighteen Inch Rule. What is
it now? A Pair of Nut-crackers. What is it now? Two Candlesticks. What
is it now? A Picquet-Board. What is it now! A Lemon-squeezer. That's
for you, _Uncle_. That's all the Changes. It will go into your Coat
Pocket."
"It _shall_ go there, _Tom_! 'Tis a real Curiosity."
"I knew you'd say so, Sir. I wasn't sure about the Monkey, but I knew
you'd like this. _Jessy_ shall go with me Home, but I shan't go there
till next Week, because they don't know we've come up the River, so I
shall stay a little here first."
"But, _Tom_, I don't know how we can take you in, for we have a Lodger."
"Oh my Goodness! Nay, don't put the poor Fellow to Inconvenience on my
Account, pray."
"Certainly not!" cried _Prue_, indignantly. "Why, Mr. _Fenwick_ is
quite a Gentleman!"
"Oh, is he so?" said _Tom_, bursting out laughing, "and pray, what am
I? 'Sir, you're no Gentleman!'--is that it, _Prue_?"
"Why, you're _Tom_, and that's all."
"And that's enough too, isn't it? Oh, I can swing my Hammock anywhere.
I wouldn't put Anyone to the smallest Inconvenience. Would sooner
catch my Death of Cold, or lose every Shot in my Locker."
"_Tom_, you're such a thoughtless, good-tempered Fellow, we must pack
you in somewhere."
"Oh, no, _Uncle_! don't think of it. I'll be off to the _Three Bells_.
Only, there are two Belles here I like better."
"But, _Tom_, I shouldn't like you to get your Pocket picked."
"And I," said my _Mother_, "should not like you to take your Death of
Cold."
"Never caught Cold in my Life, Ma'am, that was only Flummery; a Sailor
has Something else to do than keep sneezing and blowing his Nose. And I
can leave my Money and Watch here."
"_Prudence_," said I, "you and I could sleep in the little blue Closet."
"Why shouldn't _Tom_," said _Prudence_, "now the other Door is
un-nailed? We should have to move all our Things."
"Thank you, _Patty_," said _Tom_, "you were always as sweet as Syrup
to me. I shall like the blue Closet a precious deal the best, I can
assure you, instead of being mast-headed."
So thus it was arranged; and the light-hearted Fellow was soon
established among us, spinning long Yarns, as he called them, about
_John Chinaman_.
The next Day, he was absent for some Hours, and when he came back, he
said he wanted _Prue_ and me to go with him in the Evening to see a
Conjuror. _Prudence_, for some Whim, would not go; but I accompanied
him with Pleasure. The Way _Tom_ went on, however, spoiled my Evening's
Entertainment.
The Conjurer was dressed somewhat in the Oriental Style, and I should
have taken him for a real Foreigner, only that _Tom_ whispered to me
that was all Sham. In Fact, he began by addressing us in very good
_English_, and saying that the Marvels he was about to display were
unaccompanied by any Fraud or Deception, and that any Lady or Gentleman
who doubted his Word might come and sit at his Elbow. "I accept your
Invitation!" cries _Tom_; and immediately "slued himself round," as he
expressed it, round a Pillar between us and the Stage, slipped down
it as if he had been a Monkey, and was at the Man's Side in a Moment.
The Conjurer looked sufficiently annoyed, but not more so than I felt,
for it seemed to me that the Eyes of all the Audience were alternately
on _Tom_ and me, as indeed they well might be. Luckily for my Comfort
and Respectability, he left me sitting next to a very steady-looking
elderly Couple, the nearest of which said, "Never mind, young Lady,
we'll take Care of you." I said, "It was so very thoughtless of him to
leave me!" and felt quite uncomfortable. "It _was_ very thoughtless,"
said the good Woman's Husband, smiling, "I should think, Miss, he's in
the sea-faring Line." I said, "Yes, Sir," and we then began to attend
to what was going on, on the Stage; but I sat on Thorns all the While.
_Tom_, quite unembarrassed by the Publicity of his Position, kept
his Eyes fixed on the Conjurer's Proceedings with an Air of lively
Interest. The two or three first Tricks drew from him such Exclamations
as "Capital! Excellent!" which appeared somewhat to mollify the
Cunning Man; but at length, when Something was done which seemed very
surprising, _Tom_ coolly remarked, "Ah! I see how that is managed,"
in a Voice as clear as a Bell, that was heard all over the House. The
Conjurer shook his Head at him and frowned; but went on to Something
else. Again _Tom_ was pleased; again he clapped as heartily as any.
The next Trick he marked his Approval of by saying, "Very neat,
very neat." At Length came the grand Feat of the Evening, which was
swallowing a Carving-Knife. Everybody's Attention was riveted, when
_Tom_ said in an Expostulatory Voice, "But, my dear good Fellow, how
can you say there is no Fraud or Deception?" "Sir, I defy you to prove
any," says the Conjurer. "I will prove it directly," says _Tom_, "for
I have often seen the Thing better done in _India_." "Sir, you are an
impertinent Fellow," says the Conjurer; "I must insist upon it that
you withdraw. If you will not retire of your own Accord, you shall do
so on Compulsion, for it is highly indecorous to interrupt a public
Performance in this Manner."
"Well, but why did you ask me?" said _Tom_. "I didn't!" says the
Conjurer. "You did," says _Tom_. "_Didn't_ he?" to the whole House.
"Knock him down! Throw him over!" cried several Voices. "Give him into
Custody!" "Nay," says _Tom_, "I don't want to make any Disturbance:--if
you wish me to go, I'll go, for I never like to put People to the
least Inconvenience, and I'm sure if I'd known you didn't mean to be
taken at your Word, I would have stayed where I was!" Saying which,
he swung himself up the Pillar again, and was by my Side the next
Moment, looking as merry and good-tempered as ever. But I was so
penetrated with Shame, that I could not bear to look up, but begged him
to let us go Home, to which he acceded, though with much Surprise. The
next Morning, I was giving my _Father_ and _Mother_ an Account of my
uncomfortable Evening, when _Tom_, coming in to Breakfast, says, "Who
is that pale, lanky Chap I met just now upon the Stairs?"
"_Tom!_--" said _Prudence_, very indignantly, "it was Mr. _Fenwick_!"
"How should I know who he was?" rejoined _Tom_ unconcernedly, "I
thought he might be a Thief."
"A Thief, indeed!" muttered _Prue_, as she buttered her Roll.
"Well, _Prue_," said he briskly, "I gave _Patty_ a Treat last Night, so
now it's your Turn."
"You _did_ give _Patty_ a Treat, indeed, my Lad," says my _Father_
ironically.
"I'm glad she found it so, _Uncle_," says he, quite cheerfully, "so,
To-Night, _Prudence_, I'll take you to the Play."
"I don't know that I want to go," says _Prudence_.
"Oh! very well, then I'll take _Patty_."
"Thank you, _Tom_," said I, "but I don't quite approve of Theatrical
Amusements."
"You don't? Oh my Goodness!--And do _you_ disapprove of them, _Prue_?"
"No, not I," said _Prue_, "I think _Patty_ more nice than wise."
"Oh, then, come along like a good Girl, and let's go together."
"But, _Tom_," says my _Father_, "I shall put a Spoke in that Wheel,
unless you promise you won't forsake her as you did _Patty_ last Night."
"I'll promise you a Dozen Times, _Uncle_, if you think that will make
it more secure."
"No, if you promise once in earnest, that will do."
"I do promise."
"But, _Tom_," put in my dear _Mother_, "I share _Patty's_ Objections to
the Play-House, and I think two such young Heads as you and _Prue_ are
hardly to be trusted there. In short, I would rather she did not go."
_Prue_ pouted a little on this--My _Father_ began to chafe.
"Fiddlesticks, my Dear," says he, "you and I often went to a Play
together when we were young, and why shouldn't they?"
"Why, my Dear, as I am no longer young, I see Things in a different
Light."
"It may not be a truer Light, though, Mrs. _Honeywood_, and you can't
expect young Folks to see Things differently from what you yourself did
when you were young. Tut, tut! let the Girl go, and say no more about
it."
"But, Mr. _Honeywood_...."
"But, Madam!" (very loud and angry,) "haven't I said it should be so,
and have I a Right to be minded?"
Here my _Mother_ turned pale and trembled, which I never could bear
to see; and I was going to urge _Prue_ and _Tom_, in a low Voice, to
give up their Treat rather than foment a Family Quarrel, when I was
called into the Shop, which prevented my knowing how the Matter ended.
Presently _Tom_ went through the Shop, out of the House; and the next
Time I could look into the Parlour, it was empty.
_Prue_, however, was singing about the House, so I argued that Peace
had been restored somehow; most likely by her giving up the Play.
By-and-by she comes in all Smiles, and says, "I'll take up Mr.
_Fenwick's_ Chocolate," and, before I could say a Word, took the little
Tray out of my Hand and was off with it.
I had forgotten all about this, when, some Time after, happening to
go up Stairs for my Knotting-Bag, in passing the open Door of Mr.
_Fenwick's_ Sitting-Room, I saw him and _Prue_ standing at the Window,
their Backs towards me, in earnest Conversation; he holding her by
the Hand, and she apparently in Tears. This gave me the oddest Feeling
I ever had in my Life--I went up into my Room, sat down on the first
Chair I came to, and could hardly turn my Breath. I could not think
what had come over me! Presently I got up and tried to drink some cold
Water, but could hardly get it down. It seemed to me as if I could not
_think_; and yet there was a great, dull, dark, unwelcome Thought in my
Head all the while!
I leant my Head against the Wall; and having quieted myself a little,
rose to go down Stairs. Just then, _Prue_ came in, and looked as if she
had hoped to find the Room unoccupied. I said, "You've been crying,
_Prue_!" She said, sharply, "No, I haven't!--and what if I had?"--I
said, "Only that I should have been sorry to know that you were in
Sorrow." She said, "Tears are shed for Joy, sometimes, as well as
Sorrow, are not they?" "Certainly," said I; and turned away. "What
_could_ make you think I had been crying, _Patty_?" says she hurriedly.
"Well," I said, "I thought you might be vexed about the Play."--"The
Play? oh, that was given up before _Tom_ went out," said she--"Of
course it _did_ vex me, and I think it was unkind of my _Mother_ not to
let me go." "You know her Motives are always kind," said I. "Well, of
course I do," says she, still crossly, "but don't harp any more on such
a disagreeable Subject. If you do, I shall run away from you." And away
she ran.
Then it was not the Play; then it was not about Anything connected with
_Tom_, that had made her cry! I'd thought as much! "Tears are shed
for Joy as well as for Sorrow," sometimes, though not very often. I
sat down again, and turned my Face to the Wall, with my Head resting
against it, and cried bitterly. Mine were Tears of Sorrow, not of Joy!
[Illustration]