"I'm very sorry, Mr Revitts," I said, "and I hope you don't think I
would do anything to deceive you," for that "R or F" puzzled me.
"Deceive me? Not you, my boy. Why, you couldn't deceive a sparrer or a
hoyster. Why, you're as transparent as a pane of glass. I can see
right through you and out on the other side."
"I'm afraid I am very stupid, sir," I said sadly. "I'll try to learn to
be more clever. I don't know much, only about books, and natural
history, and botany, but I'll try very hard not--not to be so--so--
green."
"Why, bless your young heart, where have you been all your life? You're
either as cunning as--No, you ain't, you really are as innocent as a
lamb."
"I've always been at home with papa and mamma, sir."
"Sir, be hanged! My name's William Revitts; and if you and me's going
to be good friends, my boy, you'll drop that sir-ing and mistering, and
call me plain Bill."
"Should you like it, sir, if I did?" I asked anxiously.
"No, _sir_, I shouldn't. Yes, I should. Now then, is it to be friends
or enemies?"
"Oh, friends, please," I said, holding out my hand.
"Then there's mine, young Antony," he cried seizing it in his great,
fingers. "And mind, I'm Bill, or old Bill, whichever you like."
"I'm sure--Bill, I should be glad to be the best of friends," I said,
"for I have none."
"Oh, come now, you said that Polly was very good to you."
"What, Mary? Oh yes!"
"Well, then, that's one. But, I say, you know you mustn't be so
precious innocent."
"Mustn't I, sir?"
"What!" he cried, bringing his hand down crash on the table.
"Mustn't I, Bill?"
"That's better. No: that you mustn't. I seem to look upon you as quite
an old friend since you lived so long with my Polly. But, I say, your
education has been horribly neglected. You're quite a baby to the boys
up here at your age."
"But papa was so anxious that I should learn everything," I said, as I
thought of Mr Ruddle's words, "and we had lessons every day."
"Hah! Yes; but you can't learn everything out o' books," he continued,
looking at me curiously. "You never went away to school, then?"
"No. I was going in a month or two."
"Hah! and it was put off. Well, we can't help it now, only you mustn't
be so jolly easy-going. Everybody here will glory in taking you in."
"Do you mean cheating me?"
"That's just what I do mean. Why, some chaps would have nailed that sov
like a shot, and you'd never have seen it again. You see, I'm in the
police, and we couldn't stoop to such a thing, but I know lots o' men as
would say as a sov was no use to a boy like you, and think as they ought
to take care of it for you."
"Well, wouldn't that be right, Mr Revitts?" I said.
"No, it wouldn't, young greenhorn," he cried sharply, "because they'd
take care of it their way."
"Greenhorn?" I said eagerly. "Oh, that's what you mean by my being
green! You mean ignorant and unripe in the world's ways."
"That's just what I do mean," he cried, slapping me on the shoulder.
"Brayvo! that's the result of my first lesson," he continued admiringly.
"Why, I'm blessed if I don't think that if I had you here six months,
and took pains, I could make a man of you."
"Oh, I wish you would," I cried excitedly. "I do so want to be a true,
good man--one such as papa used to speak of--one who could carve his way
to a noble and honourable career, and grow to be loved and venerated and
held in high esteem by the world at large. Oh, I would try so hard--I'd
work night and day, and feel at last, that I had not tried in vain."
"He-ar! he-ar! Brayvo, brayvo, youngster! Well done our side! That's
your style!" he cried, clapping his hands and stamping his feet as I
stopped short, flushed and excited with the ideas that had come
thronging to my brain, and then gazed at him in a shamefaced and bashful
manner. "That's your sort, my boy, I like that. I say, did your father
teach you that sorter thing."
"Yes. Mr Rev--Yes, Bill."
"I say, your par, as you called him, wasn't a fool."
"My papa," I said proudly, "I mean my dear father, was the best and
kindest of men."
"That I'll lay sixpence he was. Why, I was feeling quite out of heart
about you, and thinking you such a hinnocent young goose that I
shouldn't know how to help you. Why, lookye here, I've been kicking
about in the world ever since I was ten, and been in the police six
years, and I couldn't make a speech like that."
"Couldn't you, sir--Mr--I mean Bill?"
"No, that I couldn't. Why, I tell you what. You and I'll stick
together and I don't know what we mightn't make of you at last--p'r'aps
Lord Mayor o' London. Or, look here, after a few years we might get you
in the police."
"In the police?" I faltered.
"To be sure, and you being such a scholard and writing such a hand--I
know it, you know. Lookye here," he continued, pulling out a
pocket-book, from one of the wallets in which he drew a note I had
written for Mary, "I say, you writing such a hand, and being well up in
your spelling, you'd rise like a air balloon, and get to be sergeant,
and inspector, and perhaps superintendent, and wear a sword! You mark
my words, youngster; you've got a future before you."
"Do you think so?"
"I just do. I like you, young Antony, hang me if I don't; and if you
stick to me I'll teach you all I know."
"Will you?" I said eagerly.
"Well, all I can. Just hand me that paper o' tobacco. Thankye. I'll
have just one more pipe, and then we'll go to dinner."
He filled and lit his pipe, and went on talking.
"First and foremost, don't you get trying to smoke."
"No, I will not," I said.
"That's right. It's all very well for men, a little of it; but I don't
like to see boys at it, as too many tries just now. I often sees 'em on
my beat, and I never feel so jolly happy as when I come across one
looking white after it about the gills, and so sick he can't hold his
head straight up. But, as I was a-saying, you stick to me and I'll
teach you all I can, and I know two or three things," he continued,
closing one eye and opening it again.
"You must, sir."
"Yes; there's some clever chaps I have to deal with sometimes--roughs
and thieves and the like; but they have to get up very early in the
morning to take me in."
"Do they, sir--Bill?" I said wonderingly.
"There, now you're getting innocent again," he said sharply. "You don't
mean to tell me as you don't understand that?"
"Oh yes, I do: you mean that they would have to get up very early to
master you--say at daybreak."
"What a young innocent you are," he cried, laughing; and then seeing my
pained look, he slapped me on the shoulder again. "It's all right, my
boy. You can't help it; and you'll soon learn all these things. I know
a lot, but so do you--a sight o' things I don't. Why, I'll be bound to
say you could write a long letter without making a single mistake in the
spelling."
"Yes, I think I could," I said innocently. "Both papa and mamma took
great pains with me over that."
"Look at that, now!" he said. "Why, I couldn't write two lines in my
pocket-book without putting down something as the sergeant would chaff."
"Chaff?" I said, "cut-up stuff for horses?"
"Yes: that's it," he said, grinning. "Stuff as they cut up. There,
you'll soon know what chaff is, my lad. But, you know, all the same,
and speaking quite fair, I do maintain as spelling ain't square."
"Not square?"
"I mean fair and square and above-board. Them as invented spelling
couldn't have been very clever, or they'd have made everything spelt as
it sounded. Why, it only seems natural to spell doctor's stuff
f-i-z-z-i-k, and here you have to stick in _p's_, and _h's_, and _y's_,
and _s's_, and _c's_, as ain't wanted at all."
"It is puzzling, certainly," I said.
"Puzzling? Puzzling ain't nothing to it. I can write a fair round
hand, and spell fast enough my way. Our sergeant says there isn't a man
on our station as can write such a nice looking report; but when it
comes to the spelling--there, I won't tell you what he said about that!"
"But you could soon improve your spelling."
"Think so?" he said eagerly. "Oh no, I don't fancy we could."
"I am sure you could," I said. "The best way is to do dictation."
"Dictation? What, ordering about?"
"Oh no; not that sort of dictation. I mean for me to read to you from a
book and you write it down, and then I mark all the misspelt words, and
you write them down and learn them."
"Look at that now!" he exclaimed. "To be sure, that's the way. Now,
you know, I bought a spelling-book, that didn't seem to do no good; so I
bought a pocket dictionary, and that was such a job to go through, so
full of breakneck words as no one never heard of before, that I give
that up. Why, you ain't innocent after all. Would you mind trying me?"
"Mind! no," I cried; "we could use either a slate or paper."
"So we could, and do it with either a pencil or a pen. I say, come:
fair and square, I'll teach you all I know if you'll teach me all you
know."
"That's agreed," I said.
"Done for you," he cried, shaking hands. "And now my pipe's out, and
we'll go and have dinner. Wait till I roll down my sleeves and get on
my stock. Why, you and I will be as jolly as can be here. It's rather
a long way to go to your work, but you must get up a bit earlier. Two
miles night and morning won't kill you; and I've been thinking what
we'll do. You've got your sovereign. We'll go to a place I know, and
buy one o' them little iron fold-up bedsteads and a mattress and pillow
and blanket, and stand it there. It's breaking into your sov, but then
you'll have the bit o' furniture, which will be your property, so the
money won't be wasted. What do you say?"