One evening, his Uncle William came into the kitchen where John was
reading _John Halifax, Gentleman_ to his mother.
"I ought to go to Belfast the morrow," he said, "but Saturday's an
awkward day for me. I was wondering whether to send John instead. He's
nothing to do on Saturdays, and it would be a great help to me!"
John closed the book, "Of course, I'll go, Uncle William!" he said.
Mrs. MacDermott coldly regarded them both. "You know rightly," she
said, "that I'm as busy on Saturday as you are, William. How can he go
up to Belfast when I can't go with him?"
"I never said nothing about you going with him," Uncle William
retorted. "He's well able to go by himself!" _"Go by himself!"_
Mrs. MacDermott almost shouted the words at her brother-in-law. "A lad
that never was out of the town by his lone in his life before!"
"He'll have to go by his lone some day, won't he? And he's a big lump
of a lad now, and well able to look after himself!"
"He'll not stir an inch from the door without me," Mrs. MacDermott
declared in a determined voice. "Think shame to yourself, William, to
be putting such thoughts into a lad's head ... suggesting that he
should be sent out in the world by himself at his age!..."
Uncle William shifted uneasily in his seat. "I'm not suggesting that he
should be sent out into the world," he said. "I'm only suggesting that
he should be sent to Belfast for the day!..."
"And what sort of a place is Belfast on a Saturday afternoon with a lot
of drunk footballers flying about? He will not go, William. You can
send Matthew!..."
Uncle William made a gesture of impatience. "You know rightly,
Matthew's no good for a job of this sort!"
"Well, then, you'll have to go yourself. I'll keep an eye to the shop,
forby my own work!..."
John got up and put _John Halifax, Gentleman_ on the window-ledge.
"You needn't bother yourself, ma," he said. "I'm going to Belfast the
morrow. What is it you want me to do, Uncle William?"
Mrs. MacDermott stared at him for a moment, then she got up and hurried
out of the kitchen. They could hear her mounting the stairs, and then
they heard the sound of her bedroom door being violently slammed.
"Women are queer, John," said Uncle William, "but the queerest women of
all are the women that are mothers. Anybody'd think I was proposing to
send you to the bad place, and dear knows, Belfast's not that!"
"What's the job you want me to do?"
"Come into the shop and I'll tell you!"
John followed his Uncle into the shop and they sat down together in the
little Counting House.
"There's really nothing that a postcard couldn't do," Uncle William
said. "That was the excuse. I've been thinking about you, John, and I
thought it was a terrible pity you should never get out and about by
yourself a bit ... out of Ballyards, I mean ... to look round you. It's
no good to a lad to be always running about with his ma!"
"You're a terrible schemer, Uncle William," said John.
"Ah, g'long with you," his Uncle answered. "Here, pay heed to me now,
while I tell you. This is what I want you to do!..."
He showed a business letter to John and invited him to read it. Then he
explained the nature of the small commission he wished him to execute.
"It'll not take you long," he said, "and then you can look about
yourself in Belfast. You'll want a few coppers in your pocket!" He put
a coin into John's hand and then closed the lad's fingers over it.
"It's great value to go down the quays and have a look at the ships,"
he went on, "and mebbe you could get a look over the shipyard! ... And
perhaps when you're knocking about Belfast, you'll see something you'd
like to do!"