FOR CHANGE OF AIR.
"But," said my father to Mr. John Windsor, who was urging him to leave
home for a while, that Joe Cowl's anger might blow over; "people pretend
not to understand it, John; but you know as well as I do what it is. How
could I ever live, for a fortnight at a stretch, or even three weeks, as
might be needful, without a breath of the air of the works, John?"
"When I was obliged to spend a week in Parree," replied Mr. Windsor
(who, as Mrs. Windsor said, had "acclimatised himself uncommon quick to
the French style, and their accent"), "I thought I should have died for
a day or two, from the downright emptiness of the air. But, my dear
fellow, I found out some places, where the air was as nourishing, every
bit, as it is at our works on an over-time day. Bubbly, I contrived to
bilk the doctor, by going twice a day to a place with a hole in it, over
some large cookery vapours. And you must contrive to find a place like
that. I'll tell you what, go away to the seaside. At the seaside now,
they are always making smells."
"So they are, I am sure," said Mrs. Windsor, who was come to join in the
attack on father; "the last time I was at Brighton, my dear, with all
the poor children, how I envied you, dwelling,--as the poet so
graphically describes it,--in the sweet fragrancy of home. Mr. Upmore,
the air is never empty at any fashionable seaside place; and for the
sake of your dear wife, and your wonderfully interesting boy, who is a
dear friend of my clever Johnny's, you cannot, with any consistency
whatever, refuse to respond to the call of duty; for duty it is, and
should be looked at in that light, without a second thought of paltry
money."
"She has the gift of eloquence," declared her husband; "and sometimes I
almost wish she hadn't. It comes to her from her mother's side, whose
mother was a celebrated Baptist preacher. And when it is upon her, she
has no consideration of other people's money, and not so very much of
mine. But you must not take the whole of this for high talk, Bubbly. To
make yourself scarce just now, will fetch you a pound, for every penny
you have to spend. An old friend of mine is well up the back-stairs; and
although he could never do a stroke for me--for some reason, which he
explains much better than I can understand it--he whispered to me, last
night, 'keep in with the gentleman, who boils higher up the Lane than
you do. His fortune is made, if he keeps quiet, and the present
Government remains in office. He will have more jobs than he can do, and
he must call you in, to help him.' I thought I had better tell you,
Bubbly; because we have always been straight-forward; and if you are
pulled up in the Police-court, why, you might have to wait months,
before you got a contract."
My father stood up, for nothing could be more illustrative of true
friendship, more incentive to patriotism, and more ennobling to the
human race, than this announcement from his brother boiler. He had
passed through a good deal of emotion lately, having been not only
toasted largely, wherever he appeared with his purse in his pocket, and
visited with post-cards more than once (from people whose names were in
the papers) but even invited to a hot dinner, which he took care to go
to, at the Mansion-House. For that Lord-Mayor was not one of those, who
desire to have no successor.
"John Windsor, we have always been straight-forward. There has never
been the shadow of a doubt between us. Our friendship has never known a
cloud upon it;" I was home for the holidays now, and these words of my
father's made me stare a little; "you know what I am, John,--a humble
Briton, who thinks for himself, and sticks to it. Business is business;
politics come in the evening, to smoke a pipe with. When I was a Rad, I
may have thought of making something out of it. But I only made a loss
of two good hats."
"Hear, hear!" interrupted Mr. Windsor; "and now by repulse of the Rads,
you have gained three hundred hats, the poet says."
"Stuff!" cried my father; "there were not thirty; and shocking bad hats
all of them. You are welcome to your share, if you will take your half
of this confounded summons, Windsor."
"Gentlemen, come," said Mrs. Windsor, "if you once begin with
politics--the point is to settle where to go to, and I think Mrs. Upmore
should have a voice in that. What coast do you prefer, my dear?"
"My views are of very little moment," mother answered quietly, as she
came in, with a bottle of cherry-brandy in her hand; "Bucephalus is so
bigoted. But I love to see the sun rise over the sea from the window,
and then go to bed again."
"Your taste, ma'am, is of the very highest order," said Mr. Windsor, who
never could persuade his wife to turn her hand to pickles, and bottled
fruit, and gravies; "and many a time have I enjoyed the fine results
that comes of it. To see the sun rise over the sea, and the poor fellows
shaking about in their boats, and then to go to bed again, while they
are catching fish enough for your breakfast, prawns, and lobsters, and a
sole with egg and breadcrumbs, and perhaps (if they are lucky) just a
salmon-collop--ah, that is what I call seaside! And then, you lounge
about, and see fine ladies jumping up and down, as the white waves knock
them; and then you have a pipe, and smell fine smells, and talk to an
old salt, as if you were his captain; and he shows you, through his
spy-glass, how rough it is outside, with the people in the vessels
looking enviously at you; and by that time, Bubbly, why you want your
dinner; and you eat it, as if you was made for nothing else."
"I don't remember much about it," answered father, though evidently
struck by this description; "why, it must be thirty years since I saw
the sea. Ah, how we go up and down in life! I dare say I was no bigger
than that little shrimp there."
"Mr. Upmore!" exclaimed Mrs. Windsor, whose manner, we were told, was
more aristocratic than anything on our side of King's Cross; "Mr.
Upmore, with all your opportunities, is it possible that you have not
ever felt it your very first duty, to take your dear wife, and your
Tommy, to the sea? Whatever should we do, without the sea? A great part
of our commerce comes over it, and my Johnny can very nearly swim! Dear
Mrs. Upmore, you should not lose a minute, in taking your darling boy to
the sea. It seems to be considered so essential now, that all young
persons should be taught to swim."
"My Tommy can fly, ma'am," replied dear mother; "and what is swimming to
compare with that?"
"I'll tell you what," said Mr. Windsor, "if you want to see the sun rise
over the sea, the best chance for it is on the east coast. I'm very
partial to Brighton myself, not being so exclusive as Mrs. W. about a
little smell here, or a sort of odour there. That feeling of the higher
orders seems to be cutaneous."
"Spontaneous, you mean, Mr. Windsor, or perhaps contagious, or
indigenous."
"I mean what I say, my dear. And what I say is this--to the best of my
knowledge, the sun don't get up out of the sea, at Brighton, though he
does come over it, in fine weather, by the time the upper classes are
looking about. But I won't pretend to speak positive, because I never
got up to look for him. Only this I do say, and it stands to reason,--if
you want to compel him to get up there, you had better go where the sea
runs east."
"To be sure, I see!" my father answered; "I am not sure, that I should
have thought of that. John, you are a clever fellow, after all."
"I should hope that he was;" cried Mrs. Windsor; "because you have made
yourself famous, Mr. Upmore, with my husband to stand in front of you,
are you going to begin to look down upon us?"
"Don't be so hot, my dear. I assure you, Bubbly, that she means it for
the moment; but it goes in two seconds, like a spurt of steam. Now, I
happen to know a very nice little place, on the east coast, Norfolk or
Suffolk, I believe, for I never can carry all the counties in my head.
Happystowe-on-Sea is the name of it; none of your blessed sewers there.
I know a man who boils there, twice a week; he would let you in as a
visitor, of course, and you would get the nourishment of his air. Barlow
his name is, Billy Barlow; a rising man in compos, and cocoa; he has
found a way to make one out of the other, and both of them out of old
shoes, I believe; and I thought of running down to him, to get a
wrinkle; but Mrs. W. seemed to think there was something _infra dig_ in
it."
"We cannot be too particular, in my humble opinion," said Mrs. Windsor,
"not only not to admit any shadow of fraud, into our own transactions,
but in no way to countenance any one tainted with secrets, however
lucrative."
"That is the true way of looking at things; all on the square, ma'am,
and all above board. And nothing else answers in the long run, does it?
However," continued my father, "if I should by any chance be down that
way, I might like to look in at Barlow's works,--without letting him
know who I was, of course. I should understand all his devices, at a
glance."
"He would know me in a moment, if I went down;" Mr. Windsor was trying
not to wink at father; "but he never would guess that you were in the
trade, if you wear your blue coat, and brass buttons, the one that makes
the boys call you 'the Admiral.' And by the sea-side, that would be the
proper thing. Only fair play, Bubbly, and honour bright. Snacks--as our
Jack says--in whatever you find out."
"Pooh!" cried father; "after all our experience, what could a country
bumpkin teach us? Ah, Mrs. Windsor, what things we could tell you, if
ladies' nerves were stronger! But, John, I've a great mind to take your
advice, and encourage the policy of our noble Government, in doing me a
good turn, as early as they can. We will get away before those
unprincipled Rads can serve their skulking summons. That Joe Cowl means
to get up to-morrow, after shamming to be dead for a fortnight,--a
Conservative sweep would have cured his cold, by stopping up a
chimney--and on Friday he goes for his summons, I hear. The Beak is a
Rad, and will let him have it. I shall trust you to keep it all dark
about us, and mum's the address of our luggage, and letters. But Friday
will find all the Upmore family stowed away happy, at Happystowe."
My father was ever a man of his word. He made his arrangements for
half-time boiling, and the completion of all contracts, and left money
enough for a fortnight's work, and then we set off in the soap-van; with
old _Jerry_ in the shafts, and a hamper of good things, and our best
clothes on, and _Grip_ sitting up in front, and the tilt hanging down,
as if by accident, over the third hoop from the back, so that nobody
could tell that we had got a bit of luggage. And we jogged along up the
Lane first towards Hampstead, so that all the neighbours thought we were
going for a pic-nic, as indeed we thoroughly deserved to do, and they
wished us a pleasant day and no rain; for they all had a kindly will to
us. But as soon as we had thanked them, and got them out of sight, what
did father do but turn old _Jerry_, and take the shortest cut to
Shoreditch?
At that time, London was not such a thorough rat-warren of railways as
it is now; and although I had travelled by steam before, it was new
enough to be delightful. We were going by a line, which was then
considered the most dangerous in Great Britain; and this made my mother
put her head out of the window, in her anxiety about me, and father,
whenever there was anything at all to see. We wanted to look out for
ourselves; but she declared that she understood things best; and there
was no chance of getting at the other window, because four people put a
cloth along their knees, and went on eating, for leagues, and hours. So
my father went to sleep, and I tried to get peeps (behind dear mother's
bonnet) of the far world flying by. With all my heart I longed to see
the sea, of which I had heard so many things, wonderful, terrible, and
enchanting. My mother had bought me a straw-hat, with a blue ribbon on
it, like a gallant sailor's; and she should have endeavoured, after
that, to show me the sea, if it ever came in sight. But nothing that I
could say--though I never stopped bothering, as she called it--would
keep her attention to that point; and I found out afterwards the reason
for it; she was not at all sure about knowing the sea, when she saw it,
and was afraid of making some mistake.
"What do I care about the sea?" said father, rather grumpily, when I
pestered him. "People call it the sea, because you can't see it. Or if
you do, you can't see anything else. I would much rather have a good
London fog. Go to sleep, boy; and don't keep jerking at my legs so."
My father had been out of sorts for some time, which had made it
desirable that he should come away, even without any summons against
him. His appetite was queer, and he wanted setting up. Before Mr.
Windsor came urging him so, I heard him say to mother,
"A leg of mutton goes twice with me now; and I call that a very serious
sign."
"Then be more free-handed with your money," answered mother.
And now he was touchy, because poor _Grip_ though accustomed to living
in a tub at school, was aggrieved at the box which the Company provided
for dogs on their travels, and expressed his grief in a howl, that
out-howled the engine. His chest was capacious, and his lungs elastic,
his heart also of the finest order; and for these gifts of nature, my
father condemned him!
"Now, rouse up, rouse up, everybody;" father shouted, as if we had all
been asleep--which he alone had been, in spite of _Grip_--when the bus
from the "Happystowe Road," (which was five or six miles from the
genuine Happystowe) pulled up, in a ring of newly planted trees, and in
front of a porch with square pillars to it. "Tommy, look sharp, and
count all our boxes in. Put them down in Latin, if it comes more easy.
Sophy, accept my arm, up the steps; never pretend to be younger than you
are. Mrs. Roaker, we are come to spend a week with you if agreeable, and
not too expensive."
"Mr. Upmore!" said mother, in a tone of quiet dignity, such as she had
heard Mrs. Windsor use; "as if a few pounds made any difference to you!
We are out for the holidays, and we mean to have them."
"Then the thing to begin with is a rattling good dinner," father
answered, without any dignity at all; "bless my--something the dinner
goes into, Mrs. Roaker,--if it isn't going on for seven o'clock! And
nothing all the way, but hard boiled eggs, and a cold duck, and ham
sandwiches. I never was so hungry in all my life; starving is the proper
word for it. What can we have for dinner, ma'am, and what is the
shortest time for it?"
"Anything you please to name, sir;" said the landlady, who understood
things; "and the time will naturally depend upon the nature of the
_plats_ you order."
"No foreign kickshaws, and no French plates, for me, ma'am! A pair of
fried soles, and a bit of roast mutton, hot from the fire, and a cold
apple-pie. Sophy, can you think of anything else you want?"
"Can we have a bedroom with a fine sea view?" My mother had been pensive
all day, and religious, because of leaving home, and of the dangers of
the train. "We have not seen the sea yet, Mrs. Roaker, to our certain
knowledge. You must not suppose us to be any sort of Cockneys; and
indeed we live quite outside of London, in a beautiful place, with green
fields round it; still we are what you may call inlanders, and we feel a
kind of interest in the sea."
"Sophy, you had better order dinner, after that;" said my father, very
shortly; "now, Tommy, you be off. I am not going out, till I've had my
dinner. But I can't stand any more of your plague about the sea. Find
somebody to show you where it is; or you ought to find it out, by the
row it makes. I hear a noise now, like an engine with the steam slack.
But don't tumble into it, when you find it; though you never were born
to be drowned, that I'll swear."
Without any answer to this cut at me,--which I did not deserve, as old
Rum could have told him--I whistled for _Grip_, who was looking about,
after running all the way from the station, for any dog anxious to
insult him; and as soon as he came, and made a jump at me, we set off
together without more ado, to find out where the sea was, by the noise
it made; of which I was beginning now to read in Homer.