her house. She was alone in her parlour, and was sorting a bundle of
feathers of different colours. They lay on a sheet of pasteboard upon a
window-seat, and it happened that as the sailor was bustling round the
table to show off his shells, he knocked down the sheet of pasteboard,
and scattered all the feathers. The lady looked very sorry, which Jem
observing, he took the opportunity, whilst she was busy looking over
the sailor's bag of shells, to gather together all the feathers, and
sort them according to their different colours, as he had seen thorn
sorted when he came first into the room.
"Where is the little boy you brought with you? I thought I saw him here
just now."
"And here I am, ma'am," cried Jem, creeping from under the table with
some few remaining feathers which he had picked from the carpet. "I
thought," added he, pointing to the others, "I had better be doing
something than standing idle, ma'am."
She smiled, and pleased with his activity and simplicity, began to ask
him several questions; such as who he was, where he lived, and what
employment he had, and how much a day he earned by gathering fossils.
"This is the first day I ever tried," said Jem. "I never sold any yet,
and, if you don't buy 'em new, ma'am, I'm afraid nobody else will, for
I have asked everybody else."
"Come then," said the lady, laughing, "if that is the case, I think I
had better buy them all."
So emptying all the fossils out of his basket, she put half-a-crown
into it. Jew's eyes sparkled with joy.
"Oh! Thank you, ma'am," said he; "I will be sure and bring you as many
more to-morrow."
"Yes, but I don't promise you," said she, "to give half-a-crown
to-morrow."
"But perhaps, though you don't promise it, you will."
"No," said the lady, "do not deceive yourself; I assure you that I will
not. That, instead of encouraging you to be industrious, would teach
you to be idle."
Jem did not quite understand what she meant by this, but answered, "I'm
sure I don't wish to be idle. If you knew all, you'd know I did not."
"How do you mean, if I knew all?"
"Why, I mean, if you knew about Lightfoot."
"Who is Lightfoot?"
"Why, mammy's horse," added Jem, looking out of the window. "I must
make haste home and feed him, afore it get dark; he'll wonder what's
gone with me."
"Let him wonder a few minutes longer," said the lady, "and tell me the
rest of your story."
"I've no story, ma'am, to tell, but as how mammy says he must go to the
fair, Monday fortnight, to be sold, if she can't get the two guineas
for her rent; and I should be main sorry to part with him, for I love
him, and he loves me; so I'll work for him, I will, all I can. To be
sure, as mammy says, I have no chance, such a little fellow as I am, of
earning two guineas afore Monday fortnight."
"But are you in earnest willing to work?" said the lady. "You know
there is a great deal of difference between picking up a few stones,
and working steadily every day and all day long."
"But," said Jem, "I would work every day and all day long."
"Then," said the lady, "I will give you work. Come here to-morrow
morning, and my gardener will set you to weed the shrubberies, and I
will pay you six-pence a day. Remember, you must be at the gates by six
o'clock."
Jem bowed, thanked her, and went away.
It was late in the evening, and he was impatient to get home to feed
Lightfoot, yet he recollected that he had promised the man who had
trusted him to sell the fossils, that he would bring him half of what
he got for them. So he thought that he had better go to him directly;
and away he went, running along by the water-side about a quarter of a
mile, till he came to the man's house.
He was just come home from work, and was surprised when Jem showed him
the half-crown, saying, "Look what I got for the stones; you are to
have half you know."
"No," said the man, when he had heard his story, "I shall not take half
of that; it was given to you. I expected but a shilling at the most,
and the half of that is but six-pence; and that I'll take. Wife, give
the lad two shillings, and take this half-crown."
So the wife opened an old glove, and took out two shillings—and the
man, as she opened the glove, put in his fingers and took out a little
silver penny. "There, he shall have that into the bargain, for his
honesty. Honesty is the best policy. There's a lucky penny for you,
that I've kept ever since I can remember."
"Don't you ever go to part with it, do you hear?" cried the woman.
"Let him do what he will with it, wife," said the man.
"But," argued the wife, "another penny would do just as well to buy
gingerbread; and that's what it will go for."
"No, that it shall not, I promise you," said Jem.
And so he ran away home, fed Lightfoot, stroked him, went to bed,
jumped up at five o'clock in the morning, and went singing to work, as
gay as a lark.
Four days he worked "every day and all day long," and the lady, every
evening, when she came out to walk in her gardens, looked at his work.
At last she said to her gardener, "This little boy works very hard."
"Never had so good a little boy about the grounds," said the gardener;
"he's always at his work, let me come by when I will, and he has got
twice as much done as another would do; yes, twice as much, ma'am; for
look here—he began at this here rose-bush, and now he's got to where
you stand, ma'am; and here is the day's work that t'other boy, and he's
three years older too, did to-day—I say measure Jem's fairly, and it's
twice as much, I'm sure."
"Well," said the lady to her gardener, "show me how much is a fair good
day's work for a boy of his age."
"Come at six o'clock, and go at six? About this much, ma'am," said the
gardener, marking off a piece of the border with his spade.
"Then, little boy," said the lady, "so much shall be your task every
day; the gardener will mark it off for you; and, when you've done, the
rest of the day you may do what you please."
Jem was extremely glad of this; and the next day he had finished his
task by four o'clock; so he had all the rest of the evening to himself.
[Illustration]
Jem was as fond of play as any little boy could be, and when he was at
it, played with all the eagerness and gaiety imaginable; so, as soon as
he had finished his task, fed Lightfoot, and put by the six-pence he
had earned that day, he ran to the play-ground in the village, where he
found a party of boys playing, and among them Lazy Lawrence, who indeed
was not playing, but lounging upon a gate with his thumb in his mouth.
The rest were playing at cricket. Jem joined them, and was the merriest
and most active amongst them; till at last, when quite out of breath
with running, he was obliged to give up to rest himself, and sat down
upon the stile, close to the gate on which Lazy Lawrence was swinging.
"And why don't you play, Lawrence?" said he.
"I'm tired," said Lawrence.
"Tired of what?"
"I don't know well what tires me; grandmother says I'm ill, and I must
take something—I don't know what ails me."
"Oh, puh! Take a good race, one, two, three, and away, and you'll find
yourself as well as ever. Come, run—one, two, three, and away."
"Ah, no, I can't run indeed," said he, hanging back heavily; "you know
I can play all day long if I like it, so I don't mind play as you do,
who have only one hour for it."
"So much the worse for you. Come now, I'm quite fresh again; will you
have one game at ball? Do."
"No, I tell you, I can't; I am tired as if I had been working all day
long as hard as a horse."
"Ten times more," said Jem; "for I have been working all day long as
hard as a horse, and yet you see I'm not a bit tired; only a little out
of breath just now."
"That's very odd," said Lawrence, and yawned, for want of some better
answer; then taking out a handful of half-pence—"See what I got from
father to-day, because I asked him just at the right time, when he had
drunk a glass or two; then I can get anything I want of him. See, a
penny, two-pence, three-pence, four-pence—there's eight-pence in all;
would you not be happy if you had eight-pence?"
"Why, I don't know," said Jem, laughing, "for you don't seem happy, and
you have eight-pence."
"That does not signify, though I'm sure you only say that because you
envy me—you don't know what it is to have eight-pence—you never had
more than two-pence and three-pence at a time in all your life."
Jem smiled; "Oh, as to that," said he, "you are mistaken, for I have at
this very time more than two-pence, three-pence, or eight-pence either
I have—let me see: stones, two shillings; then five days' work, that's
five six-pences, that's two shillings and six-pence, in all makes four
shillings and six-pence, and my silver penny is four and seven-pence."
"Four and seven-pence—you have not," said Lawrence, roused so as
absolutely to stand upright; "four and seven-pence! have you? Show it
me, and then I'll believe you."
"Follow me, then," cried Jem, "and I'll soon make you believe me; come."
"Is it far?" said Lawrence, following, half running, half hobbling,
till he came to the stable, where Jem showed him his treasure.
"And how did you come by it? Honestly?"
"Honestly; to be sure I did; I earned it all.
"Lord bless me, earned it! Well, I've a great mind to work; but then it
is such hot weather; besides, grandmother says I'm not strong enough
yet for hard work; and besides, I know how to coax daddy out of money
when I want it, so I need not work. But four and seven-pence—let's see,
what will you do with it all?"
"That's a secret," said Jem, looking great.
"I can guess; I know what I'd do with it if it was mine. First, I'd buy
my pockets full of gingerbread; then I'd buy never so many apples and
nuts; don't you love nuts? I'd buy nuts enough to last me from this
time to Christmas, and I'd make little Newton crack 'em for me, for
that's the worst of nuts, there's the trouble of cracking 'em."
"Well, you never deserve to have a nut."
"But you'll give me some of yours?" said Lawrence, in a fawning tone,
for he thought it easier to coax than to work. "You'll give me some of
your good things, won't you?"
"I shall not have any of these good things."
"Then what will you do with all your money?"
"Oh, I know very well what to do with it; but, as I told you, that's
a secret, and I shan't tell it anybody. Come now, let's go back and
play—their game's up, I dare say."
Lawrence went back with him, full of curiosity, and out of humour with
himself and his eight-pence. "If I had four and seven-pence," said he
to himself, "I certainly should be happy!"
The next day, as usual, Jem jumped up before six o'clock and went to
his work, whilst Lazy Lawrence sauntered about without knowing what to
do with himself. In the course of two days, he laid out six-pence of
his money in apples and gingerbread, and as long as these lasted, he
found himself well received by his companions; but at length the third
day he spent his last half-penny, and when it was gone, unfortunately
some nuts tempted him very much, but he had no money to pay for them;
so he ran home to coax his father, as he called it.
When he got home, he heard his father talking very loud, and at first
he thought he was drunk; but when he opened the kitchen door, he saw he
was not drunk, but angry.
"You lazy dog!" cried he, turning suddenly upon Lawrence, and gave him
such a violent box on the ear as made the light flash from his eyes.
"You lazy dog! See what you have done for me,—look!—Look, look, I say!"
Lawrence looked as soon as he came to the use of his senses, and with
fear, amazement and remorse, beheld at least a dozen bottles burst, and
the fine Worcestershire cider streaming over the floor. "Now did not I
order you three days ago to carry these bottles to the cellar; and did
not I charge you to wire the corks? Answer me, you lazy rascal; did not
I?"
"Yes," said Lawrence, scratching his head.
"And why was it not done? I ask you," cried his father with renewed
anger, as another bottle burst at the moment. "What do you stand there
for, you lazy brat? Why don't you move? I say—No, no," catching hold of
him, "I believe you can't move; but I'll make you," and he shook him,
till Lawrence was so giddy, he could not stand. "What had you to think
of? What had you to do all day long, that you could not carry my cider,
my Worcestershire cider, to the cellar, when I bade you? But go, you'll
never be good for anything, you are such a lazy rascal; get out of my
sight!" So saying, he pushed him out of the house-door, and Lawrence
sneaked off, seeing that this was no time to make his petition for
half-pence.
The next day he saw the nuts again, and wishing for them more than
ever, went home in hopes that his father, as he said to himself,
would be in a better humour. But the cider was still fresh in his
recollection, and the moment Lawrence began to whisper the word
half-penny in his ear, his father swore with a loud oath,—
"I will not give you a half-penny, no not a farthing, for a month
to come; if you want money, go work for it; I've had enough of your
laziness—go work!"
At these terrible words, Lawrence burst into tears, and going to the
side of a ditch, sat down and cried for an hour. And, when he had cried
till he could cry no more, he exerted himself so far as to empty his
pockets, to see whether there might not be one half-penny left; and, to
his great joy, in the farthest corner of his pocket one half-penny was
found.
With this he proceeded to the fruit woman's stall. She was busy
weighing out some plums, so he was obliged to wait; and whilst he
was waiting, he heard some people near him talking and laughing very
loud. The fruit woman's stall was at the gate of an inn-yard; and,
peeping through the gate into this yard, Lawrence saw a postillion and
stable-boy about his own size, playing at pitch-farthing. He stood by
watching them for a few minutes.
"I began with but one half-penny," cried the stable-boy with an oath,
"and now I have got two-pence!" added he, jingling the half-pence in
his waistcoat pocket.
Lawrence was moved at the sound, and said to himself, "If I begin with
one half-penny, I may end like him with having two-pence; and it is
easier to play at pitch-farthing than to work."
So he stepped forward, presenting his half-penny, offering to toss up
with the stable-boy, who, after looking him full in the face, accepted
the proposal, and threw his half-penny into the air—"Head or tail?"
cried he.
"Head," replied Lawrence, and it came up head.
He seized the penny, surprised at his own success, and would have gone
instantly to have laid it out in nuts, but the stable-boy stopped him
and tempted him to throw again. This time he lost; he threw again and
won; and so he went on, sometimes losing, but most frequently winning,
till half the morning was gone. At last, however, he chanced to win
twice running, and finding himself master of three half-pence, said he
would play no more.
The stable-boy, grumbling, swore he would have his revenge another
time, and Lawrence went and bought the nuts.
"It is a good thing," said he to himself, "to play at pitch-farthing;
the next time I want a half-penny, I'll not ask my father for it, nor
go to work neither."
Satisfied with this resolution, he sat down to crack his nuts at his
leisure, upon the horse-block, in the inn-yard. Here, whilst he ate, he
overheard the conversation of the stable-boys and postillions. At first
their shocking oaths and loud wranglings frightened and shocked him;
for Lawrence, though a lazy, had not yet learned to be a wicked boy.
But, by degrees, he was accustomed to their swearing and quarrelling,
and took a delight and interest in their disputes and battles. As this
was an amusement which he could enjoy without any sort of exertion on
his part, he soon grew so fond of it, that every day he returned to
the stable-yard, and the horse-block became his constant seat. Here he
found some relief from the insupportable fatigue of doing nothing, and
here hour after hour, with his elbows on his knees, and his head on
his hands, he sat, the spectator of wickedness. Gaming, cheating, and
lying soon became familiar to him; and to complete his ruin, he formed
a sudden and close intimacy with the stable-boy, with whom he at first
began to game—a very bad boy. The consequences of this intimacy we
shall presently see.
But it is now time to inquire what little Jem has been doing all this
while.
One day after he had finished his task, the gardener asked him to stay
a little while, to help him to carry some geranium pots into the hall.
Jem, always active and obliging, readily stayed from play, and was
carrying in a heavy flower-pot, when his mistress crossed the hall.
"What a terrible litter," said she, "you are making here!—Why don't you
wipe your shoes upon the mat?"
Jem turned round to look for the mat, but he saw none.
"O," said the lady, recollecting herself, "I can't blame you, for there
is no mat."
"No, ma'am," said the gardener, "nor I don't know when, if ever, the
man will bring home those mats you bespoke, ma'am."
"I am very sorry to hear that," said the lady; "I wish we could find
somebody who would do them, if he can't—I should not care what sort of
mats they were, so that one could wipe one's feet on them."
Jem, as he was sweeping away the litter, when he heard these last
words, said to himself, "Perhaps I could make a mat."
And all the way home, as he trudged along whistling, he was thinking
over a scheme for making mats, which, however bold it may appear, he
did not despair of executing with patience and industry. Many were the
difficulties which his "prophetic eye" foresaw; but he felt within
himself that spirit which spurs men on to great enterprises, and makes
them "trample on impossibilities."
He recollected in the first place, that he had seen Lazy Lawrence,
whilst he lounged upon the gate, twist a bit of heath into different
shapes, and he thought, that if he could find some way of plaiting
heath firmly together, it would make a very pretty green, soft mat,
which would do very well for one to wipe one's shoes on. About a mile
from his mother's house, on the common winch Jem rode over when he
went to farmer Truck's for the giant strawberries, he remembered to
have seen a great quantity of this heath; and, as it was now only
six o'clock in the evening, he knew that he should have time to feed
Lightfoot, stroke him, go to the common, return, and make one trial of
his skill before he went to bed.
Lightfoot carried him swiftly to the common, and there Jem gathered as
much of the heath as he thought he should want. But what toil! What
time! What pains did it cost him, before he could make any thing like
a mat! Twenty times he was ready to throw aside the heath, and give up
his project, from impatience of repeated disappointments. But still he
persevered. Nothing truly great can be accomplished without toil and
time. Two hours he worked before he went to bed.
All his play hours the next day he spent at his mat; which in all, made
five hours of fruitless attempts. The sixth, however, repaid him for
the labours of the other five; he conquered his grand difficulty of
fastening the heath substantially together; and at length completely
finished a mat, which far surpassed his most sanguine expectations. He
was extremely happy—sung—danced round it—whistled—looked at it again
and again, and could hardly leave off looking at it when it was time to
go to bed. He laid it by his bed-side, that he might see it the moment
he awoke in the morning.
And now came the grand pleasure of carrying it to his mistress. She
looked full as much surprised as he expected, when she saw it, and when
she heard who made it. After having duly admired it, she asked him how
much he expected for his mat.
"Expect!—Nothing, ma'am," said Jem. "I meant to give it you if you'd
have it; I did not mean to sell it. I made it at my play hours, and I
was very happy making it; and I'm very glad too that you like it; and
if you please to keep it, Ma'am—that's all."
"But that's not all," said the lady. "Spend your time no more in
weeding my garden; you can employ yourself much better; you shall have
the reward of your ingenuity as well as of your industry. Make as many
more such mats as you can, and I will take care and dispose of them for
you."
"Thank'e, ma'am," said Jem, making his best bow, for he thought by the
lady's looks that she meant to do him a favour, though he repeated to
himself, "Dispose of them! What does that mean?"
The next day he went to work to make more mats, and he soon learned
to make them so well and quickly, that he was surprised at his own
success. In every one he made, he found less difficulty, so that,
instead of making two, he could soon make four, in a day. In a
fortnight, he made eighteen. It was Saturday night when he finished,
and he carried, at three journeys, his eighteen mats to his mistress's
house, piled them all up in the hall, and stood with his hat off, with
a look of proud humility, beside the pile, waiting for his mistress's
appearance. Presently a folding door, at one end of the hall, opened,
and he saw his mistress, with a great many gentlemen and ladies, rising
from several tables.
"O! There is my little boy and his mats," cried the lady.
And, followed by all the rest of the company, she came into the hall.
Jem modestly retired whilst they looked at his mats; but in a minute or
two his mistress beckoned to him, and when he came into the middle of
the circle, he saw that his pile of mats had disappeared.
"Well," said the lady, smiling, "what do you see that makes you look so
surprised?"
"That all my mats are gone," said Jem; "but you are very welcome."
"Are we!" said the lady. "Well, take up your hat and go home then, for
you see it is getting late, and you know Lightfoot will wonder what's
become of you."
Jem turned round to take up his hat, which he had left on the floor.
But how his countenance changed! The hat was heavy with shillings.
Every one who had taken a mat had put in two shillings; so that for the
eighteen mats, he had got thirty-six shillings.
"Thirty-six shillings!" said the lady. "Five and seven-pence I think
you told me you had earned already—how much does that make? I must add,
I believe, one other six-pence to make out your two guineas."
"Two guineas!" exclaimed Jem, now quite conquering his bashfulness, for
at the moment he forgot where he was, and saw nobody that was by.
"Two guineas!" cried he, clapping his hands together—"O Lightfoot! O
mother!"
Then recollecting himself; he saw his mistress, whom he now looked up
to quite as a friend.
"Will you thank them all," said he, scarcely daring to glance his eye
round upon the company, "will you thank 'em? For you know I don't know
how to thank 'em rightly."
Every body thought, however, that they had been thanked rightly.
"Now we won't keep you any longer—only," said his mistress, "I have one
thing to ask you, that I may be by when you show your treasure to your
mother."
"Come, then," said Jem, "come with me now."
"Not now," said the lady laughing, "but I will come to Ashton to-morrow
evening; perhaps your mother can find me a few strawberries."
"That she will," said Jem; "I'll search the garden myself."
He now went home, it, a great restraint to wait till to-morrow evening
before he told his mother.
To console himself, he flew to the stable. "Lightfoot, you're not to be
sold to-morrow! Poor fellow!" said he, patting him, and then could not
refrain from counting out his money Whilst he was intent upon this, Jem
was startled by a noise at the door; somebody was trying to pull up the
latch. It opened, and there came in Lazy Lawrence, with a boy in a red
jacket, who had a cock under his arm. They started when they got into
the middle of the stable, and when they saw Jem, who had been at first
hidden behind the horse.
"We—we—we—came—" stammered Lazy Lawrence—"I mean, I came to—to—to—"
"To ask you," continued the stable-boy in a bold tone, "whether you
will go with us to the cock-fight on Monday? See, I've a fine cock
here, and Lawrence told me you were a great friend of his, so I came."
Lawrence now attempted to say something in praise of the pleasures of
cock-fighting, and in recommendation of his new companion.
But Jem looked at the stable-boy with dislike, and a sort of dread;
then turning his eyes upon the cock with a look of compassion, said in
a low voice to Lawrence, "Shall you like to stand by and see its eyes
pecked out?"
"I don't know," said Lawrence, "as to that; but they say a cock-fight
is a fine sight, and it's no more cruel in me to go than another; and a
great many go; and I've nothing else to do, so I shall go."
"But I have something else to do," said Jem, laughing, "so I shall not
go."
"But," continued Lawrence, "you know Monday is the great Bristol fair,
and one must be merry then, of all days in the year."
"One day in the year, sure there's no harm in being merry," said the
stable-boy.
"I hope not," said Jem, "for I know, for my part, I am merry every day
in the year."