Letters did not travel so rapidly in the year 1850 as nowadays, and the
fact that a week elapsed between the despatch of Mr Ebden's note and
its receipt at the vicarage at Riddington was not a matter to lead to
abuse of the postal authorities; for the town in which Mr Western lived
was somewhat remote, and well away from the main line, and epistles
which were addressed to its residents usually lay for a day or more at a
post-office twenty miles away, from which they were removed at most
twice a week. However, arrive the letter did at last, and Mr Western,
gloomier and more severe if possible than ever, sat in his study reading
it for the second time.
"Look at that," he said icily, tossing it across to Joe, who stood in
his favourite position, leaning against the mantel-piece, with his hands
beneath the tails of his coat.
"Humph! The young rascal!" Joe exclaimed with a chuckle, as soon as he
had glanced through it. "Got himself into trouble, and his master too.
Young donkey! Mischievous young donkey, that's what he is, Edward; and
now he won't have a penny to bless himself with till his share of the
statue is paid for." Then aside to himself he muttered as he helped
himself to snuff: "Humph! Must send him a tip. A few shillings are
always welcome to a school-boy."
Mr Western stared gloomily at the fire and kept silent for a minute or
more. Then, bringing his hand down heavily upon the table, he exclaimed
fretfully: "The boy worries me. What makes him wish to play these
pranks? I have done my best, and so has your sister. He has had
warning enough, and surely ought to keep out of these troubles. I
believe he is wilfully mischievous, yes wilfully mischievous, and a bad
boy at heart, and I will have no more to do with him. I will give him
one more start, and leave him to make his way in the world as best he
can. If he fails then he must look to himself, and thank himself alone
for the trouble he has fallen into."
Joe started and looked uneasily at his brother-in-law.
"Nonsense, Edward! Nonsense!" he said sharply. "I cannot make you out;
and, to be perfectly candid, you are as much a mystery to me as the lad
seems to be to you. Cannot you understand that he is simply full of
spirit, and though, no doubt, he is sorry afterwards for the pranks he
plays, yet they are the result of thoughtlessness and an abundance of
good health and animal spirits? Bless my life! where would England have
been but for lads of his nature? A sunny, cheerful lad he is, and I
tell you plainly you do him an injustice when you say he is bad at
heart. Look at the letter again. Doesn't Mr Ebden admit that he owned
up like a gentleman? What more do you want? Would you have the boy a
girl?"
Joe snorted indignantly, and blew his nose so violently that Mr Western
started.
"The misunderstanding is not on my side," he retorted. "I who have
watched him all these years should know; and it is you, Joseph, who have
helped to ruin him. You have egged him on, and now, when he should be
quiet and steady, he is simply unmanageable. But we will not wrangle
about the matter. Philip shall leave Mr Ebden's house at the end of
this term, and shall take a position as clerk in the office of a friend
of mine. After that he must look to himself, for I will have no more to
do with him."
"Then I tell you the lad will not submit to your proposal," Joe said
hotly. "He is too free and easy to love one of your offices, and is not
the one to sit down tamely and have his spirit broken by long hours of
monotonous drudgery, paid for at a rate which would disgust the average
workman. But I will say nothing to dissuade him, though, mark my words,
he will disappoint you again; and then, if he is thrown on the world, I
will look after him. It is not for me, Edward, to remind you of your
responsibilities to Phil. You took him from the gutter, as I have often
heard you say, and it is your duty to bear with him, however troublesome
he may be. When he reaches man's age he will be well able to look to
himself, but till then he is a boy, just as thoughtless and
high-spirited as I was, and his pranks should not be treated as the
deeds of a criminal.
"He got into mischief at Riddington High School, and you were asked to
remove him, not only that the discipline of the school might not suffer,
but also for the sake of the lad himself. By separating him from some
high-spirited companions there was a better chance that they and he
might settle down and become more sober, and the headmaster fully
realised it. But why on that account you should send him to a school
specially set aside for incorrigible lads passed my comprehension, and,
as you will remember, did not meet with my approval. As a matter of
fact Mr Ebden is a clever man, and took to leading and encouraging Phil
instead of driving him. And now, merely because the foolish young
fellow is dragged into another piece of mischief--innocent, clean-minded
mischief, mind you--you would punish him severely, and possibly ruin his
future by placing him in a position in which all his energies will be
cramped, and from which he can scarcely hope to rise. I call it a
short-sighted policy, and most unfair treatment of the boy."
Joe once more dipped into his snuff-box, blew his nose loudly, and then,
seeing that his brother-in-law did not intend to reply, sniffed loudly
and stumped out of the room. A month later, when the end of the term
arrived, Phil did not return to Riddington for the holidays, but instead
took his box to a dingy lodging in the heart of the city, and
straightway set to work at his new duties.
Mr Western had written a cold and reproving letter to him, warning him
that this was the last he could do for him; while Joe had sent him a few
characteristic lines telling him to do his best, and never to forget
that he had one good friend in the world.
Determined to get on well if possible, Phil was most assiduous in his
duties at the office, and took pains to master the writing put before
him. His employer he saw little of, but whenever they met he was
greeted politely, so that he had no cause to find fault in that
direction. But lack of friends and lack of outdoor exercise soon told
upon him. He lost his healthy looks and became pale and listless, for
in those days cycling was not in vogue, and it was seldom that a city
clerk was able to shake the soot and dirt of the streets from him and
get into the country.
"This won't do," thought Phil one evening as, chained to his desk on
account of unusual business, he drove his pen till the figures were
blurred and his fingers cramped. "If this is the life before me I had
rather be a soldier or a sailor and earn my shilling a day, and a little
adventure. Fellows have often told me that a steady young soldier is
bound to rise, and if he works hard and has a little education, may even
reach to commissioned rank. That takes years, of course, but supposing
it took ten I should be better off than after spending the same time in
this office. Larking has been here fifteen years, and look what he is!"
Phil raised his eyes from his work and stared thoughtfully at a bent and
prematurely-aged man who sat on his right. "Yes, I'd sooner see the
world and run the risk of losing my life in some far-off country than
live to grow up like that," he mused pityingly. "At any rate I'll go
and have a chat with Sergeant-major Williams."
The latter was a veteran of the Foot Guards, who had long ago earned a
pension, and now lived with his wife on the same landing as Phil.
"Tired of your job, lad, are you?" he remarked, when Phil entered his
room that night, saying that he had come for a chat and some advice.
"Well, now, I'm not greatly surprised; though, mind you, there's many a
poor starving chap as would only be too glad to step into your shoes.
What chance has a youngster in the army, you ask? Every chance, sir;
every chance. Look at me"--and the old soldier stood upright on the
hearth-rug and threw out his chest, thereby showing the row of medals
pinned to his waistcoat. "I was your age, my lad, when I first 'listed,
and when I had got my uniform and stood on parade for the first time,
trying to look as though I knew all about it, with my chest somewhere
close to my back and my stomach showing well in front, why, the
sergeant-major came along, and I thought to myself he must be the
colonel, and miles and miles above me. I never guessed I'd reach his
rank some day; but I did, sure enough, and steady, honest work, and
being sober, was what lifted me there. But you've got education, and
that's the pull. I had to teach myself, and a precious grind it was;
but with you it's different, and if you only keep out of scrapes you're
certain to go up."
"But I'm always in trouble and scrapes of one sort or another; at least
I was at school!" exclaimed Phil.
"Yes, I dare say you was, and a precious baby you would be if you hadn't
been; but that sort of thing don't go down in the army. Discipline's
discipline, and so long as you remember that, and the fact that you're
filling a man's place and are no longer a school-boy, you're all right.
Play your larks in the barrack-room as much as you like, and no one will
mind; but never give cheek back to a non-commissioned officer as orders
you to stop. It's mighty trying at times, I know. Some young chap as
has just been made a corporal gets beyond himself, and pitches into you.
Grin and bear it is what you've got to do, and that's discipline, and
it's minding that will help you to get on."
"Then you think I shall do well to enlist?" asked Phil.
"Do well? Of course you will. Why, I'd sooner pick rags than be at the
work you're at," answered the sergeant-major. "How much do you earn a
week, my lad, if it isn't a rude question?"
"Ten shillings, and extra if I'm kept overtime," said Phil.
"Then you'll be no worse off in the army," exclaimed the old soldier.
"A shilling a day, less washing, and your extra messing, is what you'll
have, and it won't be long before you're receiving corporal's pay. Now
think it over, lad. I've no wish to persuade you; but if you decide to
'list for the army, I'll put you in the way of joining the finest
regiment in the world."
Phil thanked the sergeant-major, and retired to bed, only to lie awake
thinking the matter over. By the following morning he had quite made up
his mind to be a soldier, and went in to see his friend.
"Look here, sir," the latter exclaimed, flourishing a morning paper,
"you've made up your mind to leave that musty office and join the army,
but you're barely seventeen yet, you say. Now, I've something to
propose, and something to show you. Before you 'list try what it's like
to rough it amongst rough men and earn your own living. Here's an
advertisement asking for hands in a kind of private zoo. I know the
show, and a friend of mine, an old soldier like myself, is office-man,
and keeps the books. Take a job there for a few months and see how you
like the life, and then, if roughing it suits you, join the army. Even
then you'll be too young; but you're big and strong, and a few months
won't make a great deal of difference."
"But I know nothing about animals," said Phil doubtfully. "I've ridden
a horse occasionally, and always had a dog when possible. What does the
advertisement say? Surely far more experience than I have had is
wanted?"
"Here you are, sir. Read it, and judge for yourself. It's as fine an
offer, and as good an opportunity for you to see what life is in the
rough, as you could wish for."
Phil took the paper and read:
_Wanted, a few hands in a large private menagerie. Applicants must be
young and active, prepared to make themselves useful in any way, and
must not object to travelling_.
Then it concluded by giving the address, which was in the suburbs of
London.
"Well, what do you make of it?" asked the old soldier, who had watched
his face closely all the time.
"It certainly reads in a most inviting manner," Phil replied
hesitatingly; "but still I scarcely think it would suit me, for I really
have had no experience to teach me how to make myself useful. I should
be a raw hand who was always in the way, and should be dismissed before
a week had passed."
"You've no need to worry about that, I can assure you, sir," the
sergeant-major answered encouragingly. "My friend will see that you
have a fair chance given you, and I'll wager that a fortnight will set
you on your feet and make you as knowing as those who've been working a
year and longer with the firm. Mind you, though, I've scarcely more
than an idea what is really required. Anyone can make himself useful if
shown the way, but there must be a lot of work that's difficult and
p'r'aps dangerous. One thing I've learnt from Timms, and that is, that
animals has to be taken by road to various parties, and that means kind
of camp or gipsy life at times. Now look you here, my lad. Just you go
right off, read the 'vertisement again, and then think the matter over.
It don't do to jump into these affairs, for you might find it a case of
`out of the frying-pan into the fire'. There's the place; top of the
centre column. Come back this evening and tell me what you have decided
on."
Phil did as the old soldier suggested. He took the paper to the office,
and during the day thought the matter out, finally deciding to make the
plunge and find out for himself what roughing it really meant.
"After all," he mused, as he absently traced lines and figures on the
blotting-paper, "I shall be in just the position I might have occupied
had not Father taken me from home. My mother was a poor widow, and long
ago I should have had to earn my living and help to keep her too. I'll
do it. I cannot put up with this office life. A few years later it
might be different, but now it stifles me."
Many a wiseacre might shake his head at Phil's cogitations, and more
emphatically still at his determination to abandon a certain livelihood
for an extremely uncertain one. "Do not think of leaving the office,"
some would say, "till a better place offers itself"; or "Remain where
you are till you are thoroughly acquainted with business life, and can
command a higher salary." Certainly the majority would be strongly
against his applying for the post proposed by the sergeant-major.
But deep in Phil's heart was a desire to show his adoptive parents that
he had profited by their kindness, and was able to work his way up in
the world. He knew that by leaving his present place he would give
occasion for more disappointment; but then, after many a chat with
others similarly situated, and being, for all his spirits, a thoughtful
young fellow who looked to the future, he came to the conclusion that
here he had no opportunity of rising. He knew that whenever a vacancy
in some business house did occur there were plenty asking for it, and he
knew, too, that without means at their disposal those who were selected
had prospects none too brilliant. Many did rise undoubtedly from the
office-stool to the armchair of the manager. But how many? Why should
that good fortune come his way? No, in an office he felt like a canary
in a cage; therefore he determined to forsake the life and seek one with
more of the open air about it, and a spice of danger and hardship thrown
in. Who could say that luck would not come his way? If it did, perhaps
it would give him just that necessary heave which would enable him to
set foot upon the first rung of the ladder which leads upward to honour
and glory, and a position of standing in the world.
It was a brilliant prospect, and it must be admitted that Phil built
many castles in the air. Yet for all that, once he had descended to
_terra firma_, he plainly acknowledged to himself that plenty of hard
work, plenty of rough and tumble, and no doubt a share of privation and
hardship, must be faced before the height of his ambition could be
reached.
"I've read the advertisement through," he said that evening, when once
more seated in front of the sergeant-major, "and if you will introduce
me to your friend I will apply for one of the vacant places. First of
all, though, I should like to hear whether they will have me, and then I
will give my present employer notice."
"Shake hands on it, lad! I'm glad you've decided, and I'll be hanged if
you won't make a splendid workman, and one of these days as fine a
soldier as ever stepped. Here's wishing you the best of luck. Now
we'll go off to Timms right away and see what he has to say."
Accordingly the two started off, and in due time reached a big building
in which the menagerie had its home. Phil was introduced to Timms, as
fine an old soldier as the sergeant-major, and was greatly relieved to
hear that his services would be accepted at fifteen shillings a week.
"Come in a week, when your notice is up," Timms said pleasantly, "and
your job will be waiting for you. You'll look after the horses at
first, and perhaps we'll give you one of the cages later on. You'll
want rough clothes and strong boots, and, for sleeping, a couple of
thick rugs. Get a bag to hold your kit, and that will do for your
pillow as well. Set your mind easy, Williams. I'll look after the lad
and see that he comes to no harm."
That day week Phil left the office on the expiration of his notice,
having meanwhile written to Mr Western and to Joe. Then he returned to
his room, packed the few valuables he possessed, and a couple of changes
of clothing in a waterproof bag, and with this under one arm, and a roll
of coarse blankets under the other, set out for the menagerie.
"That you, youngster?" Timms asked cheerily. "'Pon my word I hardly
expected you. Some fellows back out of a job like this at the last
moment. But come along and I'll show you where you will sleep, and who
will be your mate. He's a good fellow, and will show you the ropes."
Passing outside the building, Timms led the way to a large yard at the
back in which was an assortment of the caravans which usually accompany
a circus.
"Jim!" he shouted. "Here, Jim, your new mate's arrived. Show him
round."
A jovial and dirty face, with a two-days' growth of beard upon it, was
thrust out of a wagon, and a voice called out: "Come right in here,
mate. Glad to see yer. Bring your togs along."
Phil scrambled up the steep steps and into the wagon, where, having
grasped the hand extended to him, he looked round with some curiosity,
noticing with much interest the two neat little bunks, one above the
other, at the farther end, the diminutive table close to one
red-curtained window, and the stove on the other side, filled with paper
shavings of all colours, and gold tinsel, with its chimney of
brightly-polished brass.
"Queer little house, mate, ain't it?" sang out the man who went by the
name of Jim, busying himself with a pot of hot water and a shaving-brush
and soap.
"Yes, I've never been in a van of this sort before," said Phil. "It
looks comfortable, and at any rate must be a good shelter on wet
nights."
"That it is, mate, and you'll find it so precious soon. We start at
daylight to-morrow on a long trip to the south, and I tell yer it's
mighty pleasant to know as there's a warm fire, and a dry bed to get
into, when the water's coming down in buckets, and the wind's that cold
it freezes yer to the marrer."
Phil noted every little article in the van, and listened to the scrape,
scrape of the razor as Jim removed his bristles. When this operation
was completed, Jim took him round the horses, and having initiated him
into the mysterious duties of a stableman, invited him back to the wagon
to tea.
"Timms and I sleep here," he remarked, with his pipe firmly clenched
between his teeth, "and you'll put your rugs down on the floor. We'll
mess together, and you'll find that five bob a week joined to our two
fives will feed us well and leave the rest in our pockets. The other
chaps has their own messes. I'll take yer round to see them soon.
They're a queer lot; some has been sailors and soldiers, and some
anything at all. Others has been at this game all their lives. You'll
learn to know them all in a few days, and I'll give yer a hint--keep
clear of the rowdy ones. They soon gets the sack, for the boss is very
particular, and won't have no drinking and such like goings-on.
"Now about your job. What do you know of animals, and what class are
yer on top of a horse what ain't 'xactly a camel?"
"I am sorry to say I am hopelessly ignorant of the first," Phil
answered. "I've ridden horses often, and can manage to keep in my
saddle as a rule, but cannot boast that I am a good horseman."
"Oh, you'll do! besides, I can see you're willing to learn and has got
the grit to stick to things that might bother others of your sort.
You're to be my mate, and for a time, at any rate, we shall be on the
move. The gent who runs this business keeps five and six such vans as
this moving most of the year, besides the cages, of course, which
follow.
"You see, agents in furrin parts collects lions and every sort of animal
down to snakes, and sends them to England. No sooner does the ship come
alongside the river dock than some of us are there with cages, mounted
on wheels and drawn by horses. We unload the animals, slip 'em into the
cage, and bring them here. A day or two later, perhaps a week, or even
as long after as a month, someone wants one or other of them beasts, and
arranges to buy him from the guv'nor. Then in he goes into the
travelling-cage again, and off we take him to wherever he's been
ordered. Of course there's railroads nowadays; but they are risky
things at any time, and the wild beasts we deal in catch cold, and fall
sick so easy that it's been found cheaper and safer to take 'em by road.
And a very pleasant life it is, to be sure. With two of us on the
beat, and drawing our own house, we're as comfortable as chaps could
wish for. Every day there's something different to look at and ask
questions about, and every evening, when yer pull up on some wayside
piece of ground and start to water and feed the animals, there's new
scenery and new people around yer, the last always ready to be civil and
polite. Yes, it's a free, easy life, with plenty of change and movement
to make yer work come pleasant and light. You'll like it, lad. By the
way--what's yer name? Ah, Philip Western! Well, Phil, I've told yer
pretty nigh all I can think about. Timms and me start early to-morrow,
as I told yer, so turn in soon to-night. We'll teach yer all yer want
to know while on the road, and if yer only keeps yer eyes open you'll
soon get a hold on the work." Jim nodded pleasantly, and having invited
Phil to sit down for a short time and rest himself, he ran down the
steps of the van and went to complete his daily work.
"Of course all this is very different from office life," mused Phil,
looking round, and still finding many little things in the quaint
travelling house to interest and amuse him, "I can see that any kind of
work is expected of me, and I must not be afraid of dirtying my hands.
A few months at this will show me whether or not I shall like the army,
for I remember the sergeant-major told me that there too the men have
numerous fatigues to do, cleaning barracks and quarters, carrying coal,
and a hundred-and-one other things. Yes, I've come to rough it, and
I'll do my utmost to prove useful. It seems, too, that this travelling
with wild beasts is very much liked by the other men. It will be funny
to be constantly on the move, and constantly seeing fresh places. Well,
I think I shall like it. It will be what I have hankered after--an
open-air life,--and since Jim is to be my companion I feel sure I shall
be happy, for he looks an excellent fellow."
Indeed, though outwardly rough, Jim was a sterling good fellow, with a
kind heart beating beneath his weather-stained jacket. Already he had
taken a liking to Phil, and seeing that he was altogether different from
the new hands usually employed, and moreover having heard something of
his story from Timms, he determined to look after his charge and make
life as pleasant for him as possible.
That evening the three who were to be companions supped at a little
coffee-stall standing close outside the menagerie, and, having returned
to the van, indulged in a chat before turning-in. Then Jim and the old
soldier Timms climbed into their bunks, while Phil spread his blankets
on the floor, and with his kit-bag beneath his head soon fell asleep, to
be wakened, however, every now and again by the roaring of a big African
lion, which had arrived two days before, and was caged close at hand.
Day had scarcely dawned when Jim turned over in his bunk, yawned loudly,
and, sitting up with a start, consulted a silver watch, of the
proportions of a turnip, which dangled from the arched roof of the van.
"Five o'clock, and not a soul stirring!" he cried. "Up, up yer get, all
of yer. Look lively now, or else we'll be moving before we've had a
morning meal."
"What! Time for breakfast! Hullo, where am I?" cried Phil, sitting up
with a start and staring round in bewilderment. Then the truth dawned
upon him, and, throwing off his blankets, he rose to his feet.
"What orders, Jim?" he asked.
"Come along with me, Phil. That's the orders. Timms'll see to the
breakfast, while you and me looks to the horses."
Hurriedly throwing on their coats--for they had discarded nothing more
when they turned in on the previous night--they ran down the steps to
the stables, where they found other men at work busily grooming their
animals. Instructed by Jim, Phil started with a brush upon the smooth
coat of a fine draught horse which was to form one of their team. From
that he went to another, while Jim looked to the other two. That done
the animals were fed, and while Phil returned to the van Jim went to see
that the lion they were to transport was safely caged and fed in
preparation for the journey.
Meanwhile Timms had not been idle. As Phil reached the van he emerged
from a doorway opposite, bearing a kettle, from the spout of which a
cloud of steam was puffing. Already he had placed a rough folding-table
on the ground, and now he proceeded to infuse the tea. Then he dived
into the van, to reappear immediately with plates and knives and enough
cups and saucers. Ten minutes later Jim had returned, and, sitting
down, the three hastily swallowed thick slices of bread and butter,
washing them down with cups of steaming tea.
"That'll keep us quiet for a few hours, I reckon," exclaimed Jim,
jumping to his feet and hastily filling a pipe in preparation for a
morning smoke. "Now, young un, you and me'll slip off and harness the
horses, while our mate cleans up the breakfast things."
Half an hour later two fine horses had been yoked to the van, while
another pair had been harnessed to the large boxed-in cage on wheels,
which enclosed the magnificent animal they were to transport. A sack of
corn was placed on the van, and a large joint of horse-flesh hung
beneath, and then, fully prepared for the journey, the gates were thrown
open, and with nodded adieus from the other hands they issued from the
yard and took the road for Brighton, Jim driving the horses in the van,
with Phil by his side, while Timms went in front in charge of the lion.
Trundling over the London cobbles they crossed one of the bridges, and
before very long were out of the great city and enjoying to the full the
sunshine and sweet breath of the country.