LITMIR.BIZ

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school’s topsy-turvy: we’re like a lot of things rattled in a box. Oh, dear! how I do like a good commander. On he goes, you after him, never mind what happens.’

      A pair of inseparable friends, Happitt and Larkins, nicknamed Happy-go-Lucky, were rolling arm-in-arm, declaring they were perfectly sober, and, for a proof of it, trying to direct their feet upon a lump of chalk, and marching, and missing it. Up came Chaunter to them: ‘Fat goose?’ he said-no more. Both the boys rushed straight as far as they could go; both sung out, ‘I’m done!’ and they were.

      Temple and I contemplated these proceedings as matters belonging to the ordinary phenomena of feasting. We agreed that gentlemen were always the last to drop, and were assured, therefore, of our living out the field; but I dreaded the moment of the goose’s appearance, and I think he did also. Saddlebank’s pertinacity in withholding the cool ginger-beer and the apples offended us deeply; we should have conspired against him had we reposed confidence in our legs and our tongues.

      Twilight was around us. The tramp-children lay in little bundles in one tent; another was being built by the women and the girl. Overhead I counted numbers of stars, all small; and lights in the valley-lights of palaces to my imagination. Stars and tramps seemed to me to go together. Houses imprisoned us, I thought a lost father was never to be discovered by remaining in them. Plunged among dark green leaves, smelling wood-smoke, at night; at morning waking up, and the world alight, and you standing high, and marking the hills where you will see the next morning and the next, morning after morning, and one morning the dearest person in the world surprising you just before you wake: I thought this a heavenly pleasure. But, observing the narrowness of the tents, it struck me there would be snoring companions. I felt so intensely sensitive, that the very idea of a snore gave me tremours and qualms: it was associated with the sense of fat. Saddlebank had the lid of the pot in his hand; we smelt the goose, and he cried, ‘Now for supper; now for it! Halloa, you fellows!’

      ‘Bother it, Saddlebank, you’ll make Catman hear you,’ said Temple, wiping his forehead.

      I perspired coldly.

      ‘Catman! He’s been at it for the last hour and a half,’ Saddlebank replied.

      One boy ran up: he was ready, and the only one who was. Presently Chaunter rushed by.

      ‘Barnshed ‘s in custody; I’m away home,’ he said, passing.

      We stared at the black opening of the dell.

      ‘Oh, it’s Catman; we don’t mind him,’ Saddlebank reassured us; but we heard ominous voices, and perceived people standing over a prostrate figure. Then we heard a voice too well known to us. It said, ‘The explanation of a pupil in your charge, Mr. Catman, being sent barefaced into the town—a scholar of mine-for sage and onions…’

      ‘Old Rippenger!’ breathed Temple.

      We sat paralyzed. Now we understood the folly of despatching a donkey like Barnshed for sage and onions.

      ‘Oh, what asses we have been!’ Temple continued. ‘Come along-we run for it! Come along, Richie! They ‘re picking up the fellows like windfalls.’

      I told him I would not run for it; in fact, I distrusted my legs; and he was staggering, answering Saddlebank’s reproaches for having come among tramps.

      ‘Temple, I see you, sir!’ called Mr. Rippenger. Poor Temple had advanced into the firelight.

      With the instinct to defeat the master, I crawled in the line of the shadows to the farther side of a tent, where I felt a hand clutch mine. ‘Hide me,’ said I; and the curtain of the tent was raised. After squeezing through boxes and straw, I lay flat, covered by a mat smelling of abominable cheese, and felt a head outside it on my chest. Several times Mr. Rippenger pronounced my name in the way habitual to him in anger: ‘Rye!’

      Temple’s answer was inaudible to me. Saddlebank spoke, and other boys, and the man and the woman. Then a light was thrust in the tent, and the man said, ‘Me deceive you, sir! See for yourself, to satisfy yourself. Here’s our little uns laid warm, and a girl there, head on the mat, going down to join her tribe at Lipcombe, and one of our women sleeps here, and all told. But for you to suspect me of combining—Thank ye, sir. You’ve got my word as a man.’

      The light went away. My chest was relieved of the weight on it. I sat up, and the creature who had been kind to me laid mat and straw on the ground, and drew my head on her shoulder, where I slept fast.

      CHAPTER VII. A FREE LIFE ON THE ROAD

      I woke very early, though I had taken kindly to my pillow, as I found by my having an arm round my companion’s neck, and her fingers intertwisted with mine. For awhile I lay looking at her eyes, which had every imaginable light and signification in them; they advised me to lie quiet, they laughed at my wonder, they said, ‘Dear little fellow!’ they flashed as from under a cloud, darkened, flashed out of it, seemed to dip in water and shine, and were sometimes like a view into a forest, sometimes intensely sunny, never quite still. I trusted her, and could have slept again, but the sight of the tent stupefied me; I fancied the sky had fallen, and gasped for air; my head was extremely dizzy too; not one idea in it was kept from wheeling. This confusion of my head flew to my legs when, imitating her, I rose to go forth. In a fit of horror I thought, ‘I ‘ve forgotten how to walk!’

      Summoning my manful resolution, I made the attempt to step across the children swaddled in matting and straw and old gowns or petticoats. The necessity for doing it with a rush seized me after the first step. I pitched over one little bundle, right on to the figure of a sleeping woman. All she did was to turn round, murmuring, ‘Naughty Jackie.’ My companion pulled me along gravely, and once in the air, with a good breath of it in my chest, I felt tall and strong, and knew what had occurred. The tent where I had slept struck me as more curious than my own circumstances. I lifted my face to the sky; it was just sunrise, beautiful; bits of long and curling cloud brushed any way close on the blue, and rosy and white, deliciously cool; the grass was all grey, our dell in shadow, and the tops of the trees burning, a few birds twittering.

      I sucked a blade of grass.

      ‘I wish it was all water here,’ I said.

      ‘Come and have a drink and a bathe,’ said my companion.

      We went down the dell and over a juniper slope, reminding me of my day at John Salter’s house and the last of dear Heriot. Rather to my shame, my companion beat me at running; she was very swift, and my legs were stiff.

      ‘Can you swim?’ she asked me.

      ‘I can row, and swim, and fence, and ride, and fire a pistol,’ I said.

      ‘Oh, dear,’ said she, after eyeing me enviously. I could see that I had checked a recital of her accomplishments.

      We arrived at a clear stream in a gentleman’s park, where grass rolled smooth as sea-water on a fine day, and cows and horses were feeding.

      ‘I can catch that horse and mount him,’ she said.

      I was astonished.

      ‘Straddle?’

      She nodded down for ‘Yes.’

      ‘No saddle?’

      She nodded level for ‘No.’

      My respect for her returned. But she could not swim.

      ‘Only up to my knees,’ she confessed.

      ‘Have a look at me,’ said I; and I stripped and shot into the water, happy as a fish, and thinking how much nicer it was than champagne. My enjoyment made her so envious that she plucked off her stockings, and came in as far as she dared. I called to her. ‘You’re like a cow,’ and she showed her teeth, bidding me not say that.

      ‘A cow! a cow!’ I repeated, in my superior pleasure.

      She spun out in a breath, ‘If you say that, I ‘ll run away with every bit of your clothes, and you’ll come out and run about naked, you will.’

      ‘Now I float,’ was my answer, ‘now I dive’; and when I came up she welcomed me with a big bright grin.

      A

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