HOW JIM'S UNCLE AND AUNT SPENT A DIFFERENT SORT OF DAY FROM THAT WHICH
THEY HAD EXPECTED.
The apparition was indeed none other than Jim Halliday's dreaded uncle
and aunt, and the object of their visit was easy to guess. They had, in
fact, taken the long journey from Cornwall as fast as express trains
could bring them, in order to remonstrate personally with their depraved
nephew on the error of his ways.
They were evidently as astonished to find Jim's room full of visitors,
as Jim on his part was to see them, and they looked so taken aback and
disconcerted that the party at once rose, and offered to take their
leave. Clarke and his friend actually did depart, but Jim still had
presence of mind enough left to groan out an entreaty to Charlie and my
master that they would remain--an appeal so pathetic that there was no
resisting it.
Charlie politely handed the good people to chairs, while Jim, under
cover of preparing a second edition of breakfast, hastily arranged his
plan of defence.
"Reader," he whispered to my master, "whatever you do, keep the talk
going, old man, or it's all U P." Then turning to his relatives, he
broke out,--
"This _is_ a surprise! How are you both? Upon my word, you're looking
grandly. How kind to come and see me up here! Will you allow me to
introduce my two friends, Ensign Newcome and Mr Reader? My uncle and
aunt, gentlemen."
The uncle and aunt bowed gravely, and in a frightened sort of way, in
acknowledgment of the courteous greeting of the two young men. It was
clear they had expected to find Jim alone, and over a quiet cup of cocoa
to reduce him to a sense of his wickedness. It put them out of their
reckoning, quite, to find that, if they were to open fire at once, it
would have to be in the presence of these two gentlemanly and rather
imposing strangers. However, they were too full of their mission to
delay, and so the uncle began,--
"It will be as well, James, that I should state to you--"
"Not a word now, till you've had some breakfast," interrupted the wary
Jim. "My poor dear aunt must be simply fagged to death. Do take your
bonnet off, and come and sit here in the easy-chair. Let me make you
some cocoa; I know the way you take it, exactly. Try those chops in
front of you, sir, they are prime, as Charlie will tell you. Reader,
old man, draw in and keep us company. Well, I declare, this _is_ a
jolly family party! And what's the news down in your part of the world?
Have you had a good harvest? My uncle comes from Cornwall, Charlie."
And he gave his friend a lugubrious wink, as much as to say, "Keep it
up."
"Do you live near the sea?" thereupon began Charlie.
"Pretty near, that is, about twenty miles off," said the uncle, looking
at Charlie under his spectacles.
"My love, the gentleman will laugh at you," said his good lady. "I call
twenty miles a long way."
"I perfectly agree with you, ma'am," said Charlie, "Twenty miles is a
good distance in this little island of ours. But it's curious how
little they make of such a distance in a big country like India, for
instance, where I am going. There, I am told, it is quite a common
thing for a man to be twenty miles from his next-door neighbour, and yet
be on constant visiting terms."
"Dear me!" said the uncle.
"You don't know India, I suppose, sir?" inquired Charlie.
"No; that is--"
"He's only read about it in books," again put in the aunt; "and so, my
love, you'd better say at once you don't know anything about it."
"Well," said Charlie, "it depends a good deal on the books. Some books
of travel are so vivid one almost seems to be in the country they
describe.
"Er--what did you say, Reader?"
Reader was quick enough to take this broad hint, and keep up the talk.
"To my mind, the most interesting books are those which describe, not so
much places, as people and their manners. There are a great many books
of this kind about India. One I lately read was specially interesting."
And then, to Jim's unbounded delight and gratitude, George began calmly
to give a review a quarter of an hour long of the work in question for
the benefit of the two old people, who, as they listened, became more
and more impressed with the importance of their nephew's friend, and of
the impossibility of obtruding their special grievance on the party at
the present time. Indeed, the aunt had almost forgotten the speech with
which she had come prepared, in her pleasure at hearing the young men
talk, and she even joined in the conversation in a manner which showed
how she enjoyed it. The uncle was still gloomy, and appeared to be
waiting the first favourable opportunity for "coming to the point."
The opportunity, however, never occurred. After a long and lively talk
on all sorts of matters, Jim adroitly turned the conversation on to the
subject of athletics by appealing to his uncle to add his voice to that
of Reader's other friends in rebuking him for never taking any exercise.
"Look at his pale face!" he exclaimed; "isn't it a disgrace?"
George bore this attack good-naturedly, and began to excuse himself; but
the uncle, who had not before noticed his looks, interrupted him by
saying,--
"Pardon me, sir, but I quite agree with James. If is very wrong to
cultivate the brain at the expense of the body."
This observation brought down Charlie's hearty approval, who forthwith
launched into a rhapsody on athletic sports--particularly football--
appealing in every sentence to the uncle, who now found himself fairly
in the toils.
"If it were for nothing more than the moral training it gives a man,"
said Charlie--"for the pluck, manliness, and endurance it puts into
him--we couldn't over-estimate the value of athletics; could we, sir?"
"No--er--that is to say--"
"Why, look at Jim, here! Upon my word, sir, if you'll excuse me saying
it, it does you the greatest credit the way he has been brought up to
value healthy exercise. Why, there are some parents and guardians who,
instead of encouraging that sort of thing, would positively so far wrong
their sons as to forbid it. I can't make out that sort of training, can
you?"
"Eh? Well, possibly not," faltered the uncle, turning very red.
"Of course not, and you'll have your reward in seeing Jim turn out a far
better clergyman than your mollycoddles, who don't know the way to look
their fellow-men straight in the face. Jim, old man, you've had my cup
up there ten minutes; hand it up."
Jim filled it to overflowing, as a token, perhaps, of the gratitude of
his heart towards his champion, and forthwith handed it up.
"And _a propos_ of that," pursued Charlie, having gulped down his
coffee, "you are just come up here in the nick of time, for there's a
glorious football-match on to-day--"
The uncle groaned and the aunt fidgeted.
"In which Jim is playing, and no one deserves the honour better. You
must come and see it by all means. Eh, Jim?"
"Rather," said Jim; "it would never do to miss it, especially as Newcome
is playing against us. The worst of it is, as we are both engaged,
there will be no one to pilot you about."
"I shall be very glad," said Reader--though, if truth must be told, his
politeness cost him an effort--"if your uncle and aunt will let me. I'm
almost as great a stranger, though, in the town as they are."
"You are very kind, sir," said Jim's aunt, who had been long since
gained over by the enemy. "We shall be most pleased to have your
escort. Eh, my love? Besides, we shall help to keep you out in the
fresh air for once. But, James," she said, "I can't get over you and
Mr Newcome being opponents in this match and yet such friends."
Every one laughed at this, and Charlie confided to the good lady his
fixed determination of breaking her nephew's legs before the day was
out--a purpose which, from the speaker's point of view, she could not
help admitting was a laudable one.
Thus the breakfast ended very satisfactorily for everyone except the
uncle, who had at last discovered the trap into which he had let himself
fall, from which, however, he could not with grace free himself.
Three hours later the two worthies, having seen many of the sights of
Cambridge with the advantage of Reader's escort, found themselves with
some hundreds of other spectators on the field in which the notable
football-match of Cambridge _versus_ Sandhurst was immediately about to
begin.
Jim Halliday's uncle and aunt could hardly have denied that the thirty
young men, half of them in blue jerseys and half in red, who were now
strolling out onto the ground, were as fine a body of youths as one
could easily encounter in the course of a long day's march. The picture
of health and physique, they seemed almost like some of those heroes of
old beside whom poor everyday man was wont to shrink into
insignificance. Among the blues towered Jim, among the reds Charlie,
two by no means the least noble-looking of the company.
"How well James looks in that dress, my love!" said the aunt.
"My love" could hardly dispute the fact, so he said nothing; but in his
secret heart he began to doubt whether he had not taken an exaggerated
view of the demoralising nature of athletic sports.
Play was soon ordered, and then amidst breathless silence the ball shot
upward, propelled by the vigorous kick of the Sandhurst captain.
It is not my purpose to follow in all its details the famous match of
which I was that day spectator. My muse has other things to sing of
besides rallies and charges, scrimmages and drop kicks, touch-downs and
passings. To me the game was chiefly interesting as it was interesting
to Jim Halliday and Charlie Newcome; but as during the first part of the
match both these worthies were what they would call "out of it"--that
is, on outpost duty--I found the company I was in better worth studying
than the ups and downs of the football.
When the game first began the two good people gazed in silent
astonishment. It always takes some time to understand the humour of a
football-match from outside, and Jim's uncle and aunt consequently for a
time could make nothing out of the constant succession of charges and
scrimmages of which they were witnesses. Presently, however, with the
aid of their own observation and the remarks of people around them, they
came to appreciate the sport better, and grew proportionately
interested. After a time the interest grew to excitement and excitement
found relief in speech.
"There's that little red-haired fellow got it again!" exclaimed the
aunt; "see how he runs!"
"Wait a bit!" cried the uncle; "that fellow there will catch him--no, he
hasn't--just look at him; there's smartness for you! Ah! he's down!"
"But another of the blues has got the ball!" cried the aunt, starting on
tiptoe. "Well, to be sure! five onto one! what a shame!"
And so they kept up a running commentary on the fortunes of the game,
much to George's amusement and that of those near us. Now and then the
uncle appeared suddenly to recollect himself, and would come out with a
grunt of disapproval. Once, for instance, when by a sort of common
impulse the whole of the players engaged in one of the scrimmages fell
to the ground, he was hardy enough to ejaculate--
"Disgraceful!"
"Hold your tongue, my love," broke in his wife; "you know very well
you'd like to be in it yourself if you were a boy. _I_ would!"
After that the uncle, whatever he thought, said nothing.
The sides appeared to be very evenly matched; so much so, that when
"half-time" was called neither had gained the least advantage.
Just as the sides were changing over, preparing to renew the contest, a
man came running up to where our party stood and called out,--
"Will anyone lend me a watch? Mine has stopped." This man was the
timekeeper for Cambridge, and indeed was no other than Clarke's friend,
one of the breakfast-party that morning.
"Here is one!" cried George, recognising him and unfastening me from his
ribbon-chain. The next moment I was hurrying towards the goals in my
borrower's hands.
I had now nothing for it but to attend closely to the game, for the old
gentleman and lady were too far away for me to be able to observe them
any further.
The ball was started again, and I had the satisfaction of seeing that
both Jim and Charlie were in new posts, which promised a better chance
of sport.
And so it happened.
Hardly had the first scrimmage been formed when Jim was seen slipping
out of it with the ball under his arm, making straight for the Sandhurst
goal. He was quickly stopped, however, and after a desperate encounter
the ball got free and rolled out of the crush towards where Charlie
stood.
He, not waiting to pick it up, went at it with a flying kick. Up flew
the ball, amid cheers and shouts, right over the heads of the players,
and had it not been for the promptitude of the Cambridge "backs" it
might have got behind their goal. And now, as if every one knew the
time was getting short, the play became harder than ever. Many a time
did I catch sight of my two Randlebury friends in the thick of the
fight, sometimes hand to hand, sometimes separated by a living wall of
humanity, but always doing their work, and straining for the one object.
The time went on. The man who held me looked at me now oftener than he
had done hitherto; and presently, when I pointed to five minutes to
four, he cried out to a player near him, "Five minutes more."
That player was Charlie Newcome, and I saw his face flush as of old, and
knew he at any rate intended to make the most of the brief time
remaining.
But two of the minutes were gone before his chance came. Then there was
a cry, and all eyes turned towards him, for there came the ball flying
straight to where he stood. In a moment he had it, and started to run.
It was a desperate chance, but Charlie was ready for desperate deeds.
Shout rose on shout, and cheer on cheer, as first one, then another of
the enemy was overturned or dodged. The more he achieved, the less his
enemies ventured against him, and he dashed through their "forwards" and
between their "quarter-backs." Next moment, with a mighty swoop, their
"half-back" fell to the earth.
And now there are but two men to pass, and one of these is Jim Halliday.
The avenging host follows in hot haste behind, but the issue of the
fight lies with these two. See the grin of joy on Jim's face as he
throws away his cap, and watches his dear enemy advance! It was as if a
trumpet-call had suddenly sounded in the ears of two old chargers, and
to them that moment the world was all contained in the space which
severed them. Straight as an arrow rushed Charlie, firm as a rock
waited Jim. Nor had he long to wait. With a bound and a howl his enemy
leapt at him, and next moment the two were locked in an embrace the
shock of which even I could distinctly hear. Oh, shades of Randlebury I
did your school every turn out two finer men than this pair of
struggling, straining, rival friends! The collision occurred close to
the goal-line, and a moment afterwards a cry of "Maul!" proclaimed that
they had in their struggle crossed the line, and that consequently (in
accordance with the law of the game) the contest for the ball must be
decided by these two alone, without aid or hindrance from the breathless
friends and foes who stood round. A fair field and no favour! A ring
was formed, and as my heart beat rapidly on towards the critical moment,
these two strained every nerve to get the advantage for his side before
"time" should be called.
"Bravo, our man!" cried one. "Stick to it, Newcome!" shouted others.
"Now you have it, Halliday!" called out a third. Never was duel before
the walls of Troy more desperate. The crowd burst in onto the field and
thronged round, foremost among whom Jim's aunt's voice was heard crying
out shrilly,--
"Well, I never, it's James and Mr Newcome, my love. How hot they are!"
It was evident the contest in which the two youths were engaged was one
not destined to end before time was up. I pointed to within half a
minute of the fated hour--and it would take far longer than that for
even so powerful a champion as Jim to wrest the ball from Charlie's
defiant grasp. The timekeeper turned away from the rivals and held me
up. On went my hand, and on went the struggle.
"Now, Newcome; one tug more?"
"Bravo, our man! You'll do it yet!"
"Time's up! No side!"
Then rose those two from the earth, and immediately the astonished Jim
felt himself embraced before the whole multitude by his aunt.
"Well, James, and how do you feel after it all?"
"Hungry," replied Jim.
So ended the famous match. After that Jim had no more trouble from his
uncle and aunt on the subject of athletics, which they were fain to
admit were a branch of science beyond their comprehension.
Charlie started that same night for London, with the intention of making
one more effort to help Tom Drift at all hazards. I, meanwhile, was
restored to the possession of my lawful owner, who returned to his
studies in the "Mouse-trap"; sitting up all night, I am sorry to say, to
make up for the loss of the day.