CHAPTER IV.

LIFE AT DENHAM COURT.

IT will be easier for the reader to imagine than for me to describe

the delight of a young London boy, removed from such a home as that

of Dick's in Roan's Court, to this in which he awoke the morning

after his arrival. Mrs Naylor was disposed to be pleased with her

young charge. Her husband at first thought him too young and ignorant

to have been worth transplanting from London to Denham Court. It was

"one of Sir John's whims," he said to his wife. However, the liberal

board that they were to receive for him was not to be despised, and

being so young was a fault which he would gradually grow out of. Then

as for his ignorance, he soon found it was not so great as he

supposed. Thanks to Walters, he could read and write very fairly; and

what astonished Naylor greatly, was finding he knew the names of

almost all the flowers in the gardens, and of some in the

greenhouses. He had supposed he would not know a bit of groundsel

from a fern, he said. But the mystery was explained when he found

that he had been so constantly in Covent Garden Market, where he had

contrived to learn the different names of shrubs and flowers as few

other boys would have done. There were a good many men employed about

the grounds, and several boys, who came from the village every

morning and returned home to their meals and to sleep at night. Dick

was looked at with curiosity at first, because Sir John had sent him

down from London and was boarding him at his head gardener's. It was

all very new and strange to him, and he could not help feeling rather

lonely at times. Sir John and his family were gone to the sea for a

little while, and were not expected till the shooting season began.

Dick rather longed to see Sir John's kind face again, and he felt so

grateful to him for his kindness that he thought he never could do

enough to show his gratitude.

The work that was given him in the gardens was easy enough. Clearing

the gravel walks of weeds, carrying in vegetables and fruit to the

house, or sometimes--and this he liked best--helping one of the

under gardeners to pot geraniums or other plants. One of his greatest

treats was to be allowed to go through the hothouses and greenhouses

with Mr Naylor, who began to grow fond of the intelligent lad, and to

think that after all Sir John knew what he was about when he sent him

down to learn gardening. "He's an uncommon little chap," he said to

his wife one day--"nothing seems to escape his observation; and if I

tell him the name of a plant or flower he remembers it. Most boys

would forget it as soon as told. Such a memory as he's got will do

him good service some day."

"He's a nice, good little fellow," remarked Mrs Naylor, "and so

obliging. He's always ready to run errands for me of an evening, or

to play with the little boys. I thought I shouldn't like having him

when Sir John first wrote about his coming, but I declare I'd sooner

have him here than not. And as for Ned and Tommy, they follow him

like their shadow whenever he's in the house."

Ned and Tommy were Mrs Naylor's own two children. They were merry

little fellows, several years younger than Dick. To them he was a

great acquisition. When the day's work was over, they were sure to be

watching for him at the lodge gate, to claim his services in mending

their paper kites, and to help to fly them when mended, as well as

many other similar offices, such as good-natured older boys can

execute for little ones. No wonder that Mrs Naylor's motherly

feelings made her think she would sooner have Dick as an inmate than

not.

When the days were beginning to shorten, and the first delicate tinge

of autumn brown was stealing gently over the green foliage, it was

announced that Sir John and the family were coming home. They had

been detained at the sea longer than was at first intended, owing to

the illness of one of the young ladies. But now the day was fixed,

and preparations were being made for them both within and without the

house. Even Dick had to be busy. Not a weed must be seen on the

walks, not a dead leaf on the geranium beds. Pot plants were to be

placed in rows on either side of the broad terrace in front of the

house, and others had to be carried into the drawing-room to fill the

jardinière and baskets. Also the conservatory adjoining the

morning-room was to be adorned with choice flowers from the

greenhouses. Dick carried and fetched, carried and fetched, till his

arms ached; but they might almost have dropped off before he would

have given in, so pleased was he to have such a chance for seeing the

tasteful and artistic way in which Mr Naylor arranged the different

plants according to their colouring. When all was complete, Mr Naylor

stepped to a little distance to see that the effect was quite to his

mind, and he caught sight of Dick standing in such enrapt admiration

that he fixed his gaze on him for a moment rather than on the

flowers.

"Well, Dick," said he, "what do you think of it?"

"Oh, sir, it is beautiful! I could look at it for ever."

"The boy is born to be a gardener," said Mr Naylor to himself. "He

ought to begin and learn Latin. I shall tell Sir John so."

All honour was due to worthy, honest-hearted Mr Naylor, that not a

shade of jealousy crossed his mind about Dick, although he hoped to

bring up his two boys to his own profession. Full of taste and

intelligence himself, he quickly saw that the boy was naturally

gifted with these qualities in no common degree, and felt they ought

to be thoroughly cultivated.

The next day the family arrived. Dick was standing at the lodge, well

pleased to be allowed to throw open the gates for the carriage to

enter, and to receive a smile and nod from Sir John as he sat inside

it with his wife and daughters.

The report that Mr Naylor was able to give of his charge was very

satisfactory to the benevolent baronet, and he quite agreed with him

that it would be well to let the boy have some education. There was

an excellent village school in Denham, and a superior schoolmaster.

So it was arranged for Dick to attend school every morning, and be in

the garden in the afternoon. The schoolmaster also agreed to teach

him Latin three evenings in the week.

"Sir John never does things by halves," remarked Mrs Naylor to her

husband. "He'll be the making of that boy, you'll see."

"He'll help him to be the making of himself," replied Naylor. "Dick

is a boy, if I mistake not, who will make good use of whatever

advantages are held out to him."

Time went on. Dick learnt quickly, and pleased his master. He was a

favourite with most people from his good humour and readiness to

oblige. Sir John took great interest in his improvement; and his wife

and daughter often stopped and spoke to the boy who had come to

Denham Court under such peculiar circumstances.

But go where we will, happen to us what will in this world, trouble

of some sort is sure to crop up, and Dick was not without his, even

in his happy life at Denham Court. It seems strange that he could

have an enemy, but so it was. There was a boy named George Bentham,

who was employed in the gardens, and who from the first had looked

upon the London lad with jealousy and dislike. He saw that he was a

favourite with Sir John and with Mr Naylor, and being of a mean and

selfish disposition, he took an aversion to him for this reason. To

use his own expression, he liked to _spite_ him. That is to say, he

never lost an occasion of saying or doing anything that he thought

would be disagreeable to him; and it is wonderful how much petty

tyranny may be exercised by one boy over another when opportunities

are sought. For instance, he would sometimes hide his garden tools to

cause him to waste time in searching for them, and so bring on him Mr

Naylor's displeasure. One day in autumn, when Dick had been

industriously sweeping up the fallen leaves in one of the walks, and

had gone to fetch a wheelbarrow to carry them away, he found that

some one had, during his short absence, scattered the heaps which he

had so carefully piled up at regular distances, so that his work had

almost all to be done over again. He had been told to finish it by

eleven o'clock, at which hour Lady Tralaway generally came to walk

there, as being a sunny, sheltered spot. He did his very best to try

and set it all right in time, but the leaves at the end of the walk

were in a sadly untidy state when her ladyship appeared with one of

her daughters. She remarked on the unswept state of the path, and

asked Dick to have it cleared earlier another day; and she repeated

her request to Mr Naylor a little later, when she met him in the

greenhouse. This caused Mr Naylor to reprove Dick for idleness, and

he seemed inclined to think that what he said about the leaves having

been scattered was all an excuse, especially as Dick could not say

who had done it, though in his secret heart he felt quite sure he

knew.

Another ill-natured trick that was played on Dick by an unseen,

though to him not an unknown hand, was when he one day left his slate

for a few minutes on a seat just inside the lodge gate, on which was

a difficult sum over which he had spent a long time the evening

before, and had at last mastered, though with great difficulty. He

had just started to go to school, slate and books in hand, when he

remembered he had forgotten one of them, and ran back into the lodge

to fetch it. He could not immediately find it, though he was not away

from his slate for more than five or six minutes, and it stood

precisely where he had left it when he returned. He snatched it up

and ran off, but it was not till he had got near the school-house

that he discovered the lower figures of the sum were all rubbed out

carefully as with a sponge. He was sorely distressed, but could only

tell the master of what had happened, and begged to be allowed to do

it over again that evening. The master, accustomed to boys often

making excuses at the expense of truth, reproved him for leaving his

slate so carelessly about, and said he could not understand who would

care to take the trouble to do such a thing as efface the figures

just to get him into a scrape. Dick saw he was not believed, and it

distressed him a good deal. Yet he could not tell his suspicions

about George, for he had no proof that he had done it. He only knew

that about that time he generally passed through the gate on his way

back from breakfast, and he also knew that he would be quite ready to

do him such a bit of mischief as this.

Old Walters did not forget his little friend, nor did Dick lose his

warm, affectionate love for him. They exchanged letters from time to

time, and the correspondence was very useful in keeping up in Dick's

mind the remembrance of all Walters had taught him. Sir John kindly

sent for the old man when he was in town to give a favourable report

of the boy, and tell him that Mr Naylor was well satisfied with him,

and believed he would one day make a first-rate gardener, for that

his good taste was something quite unusual, and his general

intelligence of no ordinary stamp.

"I should like him to be a great gardener some day," said Walters;

"and still more, I should like him to be a good man, with the fear of

God ever before him."

"I trust he will be both, my friend," said Sir John. "How are his

parents going on?"

"Worse than ever," said Walters. "The mother is in such a wretched

state of health from drinking that she is not likely to be long

alive, and the father is seldom sober. I went lately to tell them I

had heard from their boy, but they seemed very indifferent to what he

was doing, and scarcely asked any questions about him. They will

probably soon both be in the Union."

"Then it is clear it is no use bringing up their son to London to see

them," said Sir John, "as I would have done had they been

respectable. He is better to be quite separated from them under the

circumstances."

"Far better, Sir John. Roan's Court is no place for him now. The

sooner he forgets the very existence of what goes on there the

better. I should like to see my lad again some day, please God, but

it's not likely, for I'm getting nigh to seventy, and though I'm hale

and hearty as ever now, yet at my age I mustn't expect many more

years. God bless you, Sir John, for being such a friend to him; he's

got strangely about my heart, and I shall pray for him whilst I

live."

How a Farthing Made a Fortune; or "Honesty is the best policy" · 第 4 / 7 章