CONFIDENTIAL INTERCOURSE.
But everybody must be tired of all this trouble about that boat. It
shows what a state of things we live in, and what a meddlesome lot we
are, that a good man cannot receive a gift straight into his hands from
Providence, which never before rewarded him, though he said his prayers
every night almost, and did his very best to cheat nobody; it proves, at
least to my mind, something very rotten somewhere, when a man of
blameless character must prove his right to what he finds. However, I
had proved my right, and cut in Colonel Lougher's woods a larger pole
than usual, because the law would guarantee me, if at all assaulted.
And truly, after all my care to be on the right side of it, such a vile
attack of law was now impending on me, that with all my study of it, and
perpetual attempts to jam its helm up almost into the very eye of
reason, my sails very nearly failed to draw, and left me shivering in
the wind. But first for what comes foremost.
At that particular moment all things seemed to be most satisfactory.
Here was my property duly secured and most useful to me, here was a run
of fish up from the Mumbles of a very superior character, here was my
own reputation spread by the vigilance of the public press, so that I
charged three farthings a-pound more than Sandy Mac did, and here was my
cottage once more all alive with the mirth of our Bunny and Bardie. To
see them playing at hide-and-seek with two chairs and a table; or
"French and English," which I taught them; or "come and visit my
grandmother;" or making a cat of the kettle-holder, with a pair of ears
and a tail to it; or giving a noble dinner-party with cockles and
oyster-shells, and buttons, and apple-peel chopped finely; or, what was
even a grander thing, eating their own dinners prettily, with their
dolls beside them,--scarcely any one would have believed that these
little ones had no mothers.
And yet they did not altogether seem to be forgetful, or to view the
world as if there were no serious side to it. Very grave discourse was
sometimes held between their bouts of play, and subjects of great depth
and wonder introduced by doll's clothes. For instance:--
"Hasn't 'a got no mama, poor Bunny, to thread 'e needle?"
"No, my dear," I answered, for my grandchild looked stupid about it;
"poor Bunny's mother is gone to heaven."
"My mama not gone to heaven. My mama come demorrow-day. I'se almost
tired of yaiting, old Davy, but she sure to come demorrow-day."
But as the brave little creature spoke, I saw that "the dust was in her
eyes." This was her own expression always, to escape the reproach of
crying, when her lonely heart was working with its misty troubles, and
sent the tears into her eyes, before the tongue could tell of them.
"Demorrow-day, demorrow-day," all her loss was to be recovered always on
"demorrow-day."
Not even so much as a doll had been saved from the total wreck of her
fortunes; and when I beheld her wistful eyes set one day upon Bunny's
doll--although only fit for hospital, having one arm and one leg and no
nose, besides her neck being broken--I set to at once and sharpened my
knife upon a piece of sandstone. Then I sought out a piece of abele,
laid by from the figure-head of a wrecked Dutchman, and in earnest I
fell to, and shaped such a carving of a doll as never was seen before or
since. Of course the little pet came, and stood, and watched every chip
as I sliced it along, with sighs of deep expectancy, and a laugh when I
got to the tail of it; and of course she picked up every one, not only
as neatest of the neat, but also accounting them sacred offsets of the
mysterious doll unborn. I could not get her to go to bed; and it was as
good as a guinea to me to see the dancing in her eyes, and the spring of
her body returning.
"'E can make a boofely doll, old Davy; but 'e doesn't know the yay to
dess a doll."
"You are quite wrong there," said I, perceiving that I should go up, or
down, according to my assertion; and it made her open her eyes to see me
cut out, with about five snips, a pair of drawers quite good enough for
any decent woman. And she went to bed hugging the doll in that state,
and praying to have her improved to-morrow.
At breakfast-time mother Jones dropped in, for she loved a good
salt-herring, and to lay down the law for the day almost; as if I knew
scarce anything. And I always let her have her talk, and listened to it
gravely; and clever women, as a rule, should not be denied of this
attention; for if they are, it sours them. While she was sucking the
last of the tail, and telling me excellent scandal, my little lady
marched in straight, having finished her breakfast long ago, and bearing
her new doll pompously. The fly-away colour in her cheeks, which always
made her beautiful, and the sparkle of her gleeful eyes, were come again
with pleasure, and so was the lovely pink of her lips, and the proper
aspect of her nose. Also she walked with such motherly rank, throwing
her legs with a female jerk--it is enough for me to say that any
newly-married woman would have kissed her all round the room.
Now, mother Jones, having ten fine children (five male and five female)
going about with clothes up to their forks, need not have done what she
did, I think, and made me so bashful in my own house. For no sooner did
she see this doll, than she cried, "Oh, my!" and covered up her face.
The little maid looked up at me in great wonder, as if I were leading
her astray; and I felt so angry with Mrs Jones, after all the things I
had seen abroad, and even in English churches, that I would not trust
myself to speak. However, to pay her out for that, I begged her to cure
the mischief herself, which she could not well decline; and some of the
green blind still remaining, Dolly became a most handsome sight, with a
crackle in front and a sweeping behind, so that our clerk, a good
natured man, was invited to christen her; and "Patty Green" was the name
he gave: and Bunny's doll was nobody. Such a baby-like thing might seem
almost below my dignity, and that of all the rest of us; only this child
had the power to lead us, as by a special enchantment, back to our own
childhood. Moreover, it was needful for me to go through with this
doll's birth (still more so with her dress, of course, having her a
female), because through her I learned a great deal more of Bardie's
history than ever our Bunny could extract.
Everybody who has no patience with the ways of childhood, may be vexed,
and must be vexed, with our shipwrecked maid for knowing many things,
but not the right; but I think she was to blame, only for her innocence.
In her tiny brain was moving some uncertain sense of wrong; whether done
by herself, or to her, was beyond her infant groping. If she could have
made her mind up, in its little milky shell, that the evil had befallen,
without harm on her part, doubtless she had done her best to let us know
the whole of it. Her best, of course, would be but little, looking at
her age and so on; and perhaps from some harsh word or frown, stamped
into the tender flux of infantile memory, a heavy dread both darkened
and repressed much recollection. Hence, if one tried to examine her, in
order to find out who she was, she would shake her head, and say, "No!
sompfin;" as she always did when puzzled or unable to pronounce a word.
The only chance of learning even any little things she knew, was to
leave her to her own way, and not interrupt her conversation with wooden
or crockery playmates. All of these she endowed with life, having such
power of life herself, and she reckoned them up for good behaviour, or
for bad, as the case might be. And often was I touched at heart, after a
day of bitter fighting with a world that wronged me, by hearing her in
baby-prattle tell her playthings of their unkindness to a little thing
with none to love her.
But when I had finished Patty's face up to complete expression, with two
black buttons for her eyes, and a cowry for her mouth, and a nose of
coral, also a glorious head of hair of crinkled sea-weed growing out of
a shell (toothed like an ivory comb almost), the ecstasy of the child
was such, that I obtained, as well as deserved, some valuable
information.
"Patty Geen, 'e's been aye good," I heard her say in my window-place,
one morning after breakfast; "and 'e is the most boofely doll ever seen,
and I tell 'a sompfin; only 'e musn't tell anybody, till my dear mama
comes. Nat wasn't ickle bother, Patty."
"How do you know, Miss?" Patty inquired by means of my voice in the
distance, and a little art I had learned abroad of throwing it into
corners.
"I tell 'a, Patty, I tell 'a. I 'ouldn't tell 'e nasty man, but I tell
old Davy some day. Ickle bother not like nat at all. Ickle bother not so
big enough, and only two ickle teeth in front, and his hair all gone
ayay it is, but mama say soon come back again."
"And what is little brother's name?" said Patty, in a whisper; "and what
is your name and papa's?"
"Oh, 'e silly Patty Geen! As if 'e didn't know I'se Bardie, ever since I
was anytin. And papa, is papa, he is. Patty, I'se kite ashamed of 'a.
'E's such a silly ickle fin!"
"Well, I know I am not very clever, Miss. But tell me some more things
you remember."
"I tell 'a, if 'e stop kiet. 'I 'ish 'a many happy turns of the day,
Miss Bardie. Many happy turns of the day to 'a!' And poor Bardie get off
her stool, and say what her dear papa tell. 'Gentleyums and yadies, I'se
aye much obiged to 'a.' And then have boofely appledies, and carbies,
and a ickle dop of good yiney-piney. Does 'e know 'hot that means, poor
Patty?"
"No, my dear; how should I know?"
"'E mustn't call me 'my dear,' I tell 'a. 'E must know 'a's pace in
yife. Why, 'e's only a doll, Patty, and Bardie's a young yady, and a
'streamly 'cocious gal I is, and the gentleyums all say so. Ickle bother
can't say nuffin, without me to sow him the yay of it. But Bardie say
almost anyfin; anyfin, when I yikes to ty. Bardie say 'Pomyoleanian
dog!'"
This cost her a long breath, and a great effort; but Patty expressed
intense amazement at such power of diction, and begged to know something
more about that extraordinary animal.
"Pomyoleanian dog is yite, yite all over 'sept his collar, and his
collar's boo. And he's got hair that long, Patty, ever so much longer
than yours. And he yun yound and yound, he does. Oh, I do so yant my
Pomyoleanian dog!"
Patty waited for two great tears to run quietly down two little cheeks;
and then she expressed some contempt of the dog, and a strong desire to
hear some more about the happy turns of the day.
"Don't 'e be jealous, now, Patty, I tell 'a. 'E ickle yite dog can eat,
but 'e can't. And happy turns of the day is yen a geat big gal is two
years old with a ickle bother. And he can't say nuffin, 'cos he grow
too strong enough, and 'e young yady must repy; and ayebody yooks at 'a,
and yaffs, and put 'e gasses up, and say, 'Hot a 'cocious ickle fin!'
And my dear papa say, 'Hot a good gal!' and mama come and tiss 'a all
over a'most, and then 'e all have some more puddeny-pie!"
Overcome with that last memory, she could go no further; and being
unable to give her pies, I felt myself bound to abandon any more
inquiries. For that child scarcely ever roared, so as to obtain relief;
but seemed with a kind of self-control--such as unlucky people form,
however early in their lives--to take her troubles inwardly, and to be
full to the very lip of them, without the power of spilling. This,
though a comfort to other people, is far worse for themselves, I fear.
And I knew that she did love pastry rarely; for one day, after a fine
pair of soles, I said to the two children, "Now, put your little hands
together, and thank God for a good dinner." Bunny did this in a grateful
manner, but Bardie said, "No, I 'ont, old Davy; I'll thank God when I
gets puddeny-pie."
Upon the whole, I concluded thus, that the little creature was after all
(and as might have been expected with any other child almost) too young,
in the third year of her age, to maintain any clear ideas of place, or
time, or names, or doings, or anything that might establish from her own
words only, whence she came or who she was. However, I now knew quite
enough, if the right people ever came to seek for her, to "'dentify"
her, as she expressed it to that stupid Coroner.
Moxy Thomas came to fetch her back to Sker, in a few days' time. I was
now resolved to keep her, and she resolved to stay with me--and
doubtless I had first right to her. But when I saw poor Moxy's face, and
called to mind her desolation, and when she kissed my fishy hand to let
her have this comfort, after all the Lord had taken from her, I could
not find it in my heart to stand to my own interest. It came across me
too that Bardie scarcely throve on so much fish; and we never had any
butcher's meat, or meat of any kind at all, unless I took shares in a
pig, after saving up money for Christmas, or contrived to defend myself
against the hares that would run at me so, when I happened to come
through a gate at night.
So with a clearly-pronounced brave roar, having more music than Bunny's
in it, and enough to wash a great deal of "dust" out of her woefully
lingering eyes, away she went in Moxy's arms, with Patty Green in her
own looking likely to get wet through. And Bunny stuck her thumbs into
my legs, which she had a knack of doing, especially after sucking them;
so thus we stood, at our cottage door, looking after Bardie; and I took
off my hat, and she spread her hand out, in the intervals of woe; and
little thought either of us, I daresay, of the many troubles in store
for us both.
Only before that grievous parting, she had done a little thing which
certainly did amaze me. And if anybody knows the like, I shall be glad
to hear of it. I had a snug and tidy locker very near the fireplace,
wherein I kept some little trifles; such as Bunny had an eye for, but
was gradually broken into distant admiration. One morning I came
suddenly in from looking to my night-lines, and a pretty scene I saw.
The door of my cupboard was wide open, and there stood little Bardie
giving a finishing lick to her fingers. Bunny also in the corner, with
her black eyes staring, as if at the end of the world itself. However,
her pinafore was full.
No sooner did my grandchild see me, than she rushed away with shrieks,
casting down all stolen goods in agony of conscience. I expected Bardie
to do the same; but to my great wonderment up she walked and faced me.
"Must I beat poor Patty Geen?" The tears were in her eyes at having to
propose so sad a thing. And she stroked the doll, to comfort her.
"Beat poor Patty!" said I, in amazement. "Why, what harm has Patty
done?"
"Nare she have been, all 'e time, stealing 'a soogar, old Davy!" And she
looked at me as if she had done a good turn by the information. I
scarcely knew what to do, I declare; for her doll was so truly alive to
her, that she might and perhaps did believe it. However, I shut her in
my little bedroom, until her heart was almost broken; and then I tried
to reason with her, on the subject of telling lies; but she could not
understand what they were; until I said what I was forced to do, when I
went among bad people.
That evening, after she was gone, and while I was very dull about it,
finding poor Bunny so slow and stupid, and nothing to keep me wide
awake--there I was bound to be wide awake, more than at Petty Sessions
even, when mine enemies throng against me. For almost before I had
smoked two pipes, or made up my mind what to do with myself, finding a
hollow inside of me, the great posting-coach from Bridgend came up, with
the sun setting bright on its varnish, and at my very door it stopped.
Next to the driver sat a constable who was always unjust to me; and
from the inside came out first Justice Anthony Stew of Pen Coed, as
odious and as meddlesome a justice of the peace as ever signed a
warrant; and after him came a tall elderly gentleman, on whom I had
never set eyes before, but I felt that he must be a magistrate.