"Do you hear? And say `sir' when you speak," cried Courtenay with a
brutal insolent manner that seemed to fit with his dark thin face. "I
say, do you hear, boy?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Yes, _sir_, you beggar," cried Courtenay. "What was your father?"
"He don't know," cried Philip grinning. "Pauper boys don't know.
They're all mixed up together, and they call 'em Sunday, Monday,
Tuesday, or names of streets or places, anything. He doesn't know what
his father was. He was mixed up with a lot more."
"I'll make him answer," said Courtenay. "Here, what was your father?"
"An officer and a gentleman," I said proudly.
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Philip, dancing about with delight, and hanging on
to his brother, who laughed too. "Here's a game--a gardener's boy a
gentleman! Oh my!"
I was sorry I had said those words, but they slipped out, and I stood
there angry and mortified before my tormentors.
"I say, Court, don't he look like a gentleman? Look at the knees of his
trousers, and his fists."
"Never mind," said Courtenay, "I want to bat. Look here, you, sir, can
you play cricket?"
"Yes," I said, "a little."
"Yes, _sir_, you beggar; how many more times am I to tell you! Come out
in the field. You've got to bowl for us. Here, catch!"
He threw a cricket-ball he had in his hand at me with all his might, and
in a nasty spiteful way, but I caught it, and in a jeering way Philip
shouted:
"Well fielded. Here, come on, Court. We'll make the beggar run."
I hesitated, for I wanted to go on with my work, but these were my
master's sons, and I felt that I ought to obey.
"What are you standing staring like that for, pauper?" cried Philip.
"Didn't you hear Mr Courtenay say you were to come on and bowl?"
"What do you want, young gentleman?" said a voice that was very welcome
to me; and Mr Solomon came from behind the great laurels.
"What's that to you, Browny? He's coming to bowl for us in the field,"
said Courtenay.
"No, he is not," said Mr Solomon coolly. "He's coming to help me in
the cucumber house."
"No, he isn't," said Philip; "he's coming to bowl for us. Come along,
pauper."
I threw the ball towards him and it fell on the lawn, for neither of the
boys tried to catch it.
"Here, you, sir," cried Courtenay furiously, "come and pick up this
ball."