Next morning the old gentleman talked at breakfast-time about the
police, and having the young scoundrels sent to prison. Directly after,
he went down the garden with me and nine cats, to inspect the damages,
and when he saw the trampling and breaking of boughs he stroked a
tom-cat and made it purr, while he declared fiercely that he would not
let an hour pass without having the young dogs punished.
"They shall be caught and sent to prison," he cried.
"Poor old Sammy then.--I'll have 'em severely punished, the young
depredators.--Grant, you'd better get a sharp knife and a light ladder,
and cut off those broken boughs--the young villains--and tell Ike to
bring a big rake and smooth out these footmarks. No; I'll tell him.
You get the knife. I shall go to the police at once."
I cut out the broken boughs, and Ike brought down the ladder for me and
smoothed over the footmarks, chatting about the events of the past night
the while.
"He won't get no police to work, my lad, not he. Forget all about it
directly. Makes him a bit raw, o' course," said Ike, smoothing away
with the rake. "Haw! haw! haw! Think o' you two leathering of 'em. I
wish I'd been here, 'stead of on the road to London. Did you hit 'em
hard?"
"Hard as I could," I said. "I think Shock and I punished them enough."
"So do I. So do he. Rare and frightened they _was_ too. Why, o'
course boys will steal apples. I dunno how it is, but they always
would, and will."
"But these were pears," I said.
"All the same, only one's longer than t'other. Apples and pears. He
won't do nothing."
Ike was right, for the matter was soon forgotten, and Mrs Dodley his
housekeeper used the pillow-case as a bag for clothes-pegs.
Those were bright and pleasant days, for though now and then some
trouble came like a cloud over my life there was more often plenty of
sunshine to clear that cloud away.
My uncles came to see me, first one and then the other, and they had
very long talks with Mr Brownsmith.
One of them told me I was a very noble boy, and that he was proud of me.
He said he was quite sure I should turn out a man.
"Talks to the boy as if he felt he might turn out a woman," Old
Brownsmith grumbled after he was gone.
It was some time after before the other came, and he looked me all over
as if he were trying to find a hump or a crooked rib. Then he said it
was all right, and that I could not do better.
One of them said when he went away that he should not lose sight of me,
but remember me now and then; and when he had gone Old Brownsmith said,
half aloud:
"Thank goodness, I never had no uncles!" Then he gave me a comical
look, but turned serious directly.
"Look here, Grant," he said. "Some folk start life with their gardens
already dug up and planted, some begin with their bit of ground all
rough, and some begin without any land at all. Which do you belong to?"
"The last, sir," I said.
"Right! Well, I suppose you are not going to wait for one uncle to take
a garden for you and the other to dig it up?"
"No," I said sturdily; "I shall work for myself."
"Right! I don't like boys to be cocky and impudent but I like a little
self-dependence."
As the time went on, Old Brownsmith taught me how to bud roses and
prune, and, later on, to graft. He used to encourage me to ask
questions, and I must have pestered him sometimes, but he never seemed
weary.
"It's quite right," he used to say; "the boy who asks questions learns
far more than the one who is simply taught."
"Why, sir?" I said.
"Well, I'll tell you. He has got his bit of ground ready, and is
waiting for the seed or young plant to be popped in. Then it begins to
grow at once. Don't you see this; he has half-learned what he wants to
know in the desire he feels. That desire is satisfied when he is told,
and the chances are that he never forgets. Now you say to me--What is
the good of pruning or cutting this plum-tree? I'll tell you."
We were standing in front of the big red brick wall one bright winter's
day, for the time had gone by very quickly. Old Brownsmith had a sharp
knife in his hand, and I was holding the whetstone and a thin-bladed saw
that he used to cut through the thicker branches.
"Now look here, Grant. Here's this plum-tree, and if you look at it you
will see that there are two kinds of wood in it."
"Two kinds of wood, sir?"
"Yes. Can't you tell the difference?"
"No, sir; only that some of the shoots are big and strong, and some are
little and twiggy."
"Exactly: that is the difference, my lad. Well, can you see any more
difference in the shoots?"