Mrs. Lirriper's Legacy

Published：2026-07-30 03:12:10 Source: prize box toys for 10 year olds Author: Slime Kits

Transcribed from the 1894 Chapman and benefits of toy garagesHall “Christmas Stories”edition by David Price, email [email protected]

MRS. LIRRIPER’S LEGACY

CHAPTER I—MRS. LIRRIPER RELATES HOW SHE WENT ON, AND WENTOVER

Ah!  It’s pleasant to drop into my own easy-chair my dearthough a little palpitating what with trotting up-stairs and what withtrotting down, and why kitchen stairs should all be corner stairs isfor the builders to justify though I do not think they fully understandtheir trade and never did, else why the sameness and why not more conveniencesand fewer draughts and likewise making a practice of laying the plasteron too thick I am well convinced which holds the damp, and as to chimney-potsputting them on by guess-work like hats at a party and no more knowingwhat their effect will be upon the smoke bless you than I do if so much,except that it will mostly be either to send it down your throat ina straight form or give it a twist before it goes there.  And whatI says speaking as I find of those new metal chimneys all manner ofshapes (there’s a row of ’em at Miss Wozenham’s lodging-houselower down on the other side of the way) is that they only work yoursmoke into artificial patterns for you before you swallow it and thatI’d quite as soon swallow mine plain, the flavour being the same,not to mention the conceit of putting up signs on the top of your houseto show the forms in which you take your smoke into your inside.

Being here before your eyes my dear in my own easy-chair in my ownquiet room in my own Lodging-House Number Eighty-one Norfolk StreetStrand London situated midway between the City and St. James’s—ifanything is where it used to be with these hotels calling themselvesLimited but called unlimited by Major Jackman rising up everywhere andrising up into flagstaffs where they can’t go any higher, butmy mind of those monsters is give me a landlord’s or landlady’swholesome face when I come off a journey and not a brass plate withan electrified number clicking out of it which it’s not in naturecan be glad to see me and to which I don’t want to be hoistedlike molasses at the Docks and left there telegraphing for help withthe most ingenious instruments but quite in vain—being here mydear I have no call to mention that I am still in the Lodgings as abusiness hoping to die in the same and if agreeable to the clergy partlyread over at Saint Clement’s Danes and concluded in Hatfield churchyardwhen lying once again by my poor Lirriper ashes to ashes and dust todust.

Neither should I tell you any news my dear in telling you that theMajor is still a fixture in the Parlours quite as much so as the roofof the house, and that Jemmy is of boys the best and brightest and hasever had kept from him the cruel story of his poor pretty young motherMrs. Edson being deserted in the second floor and dying in my arms,fully believing that I am his born Gran and him an orphan, though whatwith engineering since he took a taste for it and him and the Majormaking Locomotives out of parasols broken iron pots and cotton-reelsand them absolutely a getting off the line and falling over the tableand injuring the passengers almost equal to the originals it reallyis quite wonderful.  And when I says to the Major, “Majorcan’t you by anymeans give us a communication with theguard?” the Major says quite huffy, “No madam it’snot to be done,” and when I says “Why not?” the Majorsays, “That is between us who are in the Railway Interest madamand our friend the Right Honourable Vice-President of the Board of Trade”and if you’ll believe me my dear the Major wrote to Jemmy at schoolto consult him on the answer I should have before I could get even thatamount of unsatisfactoriness out of the man, the reason being that whenwe first began with the little model and the working signals beautifuland perfect (being in general as wrong as the real) and when I sayslaughing “What appointment am I to hold in this undertaking gentlemen?”Jemmy hugs me round the neck and tells me dancing, “You shallbe the Public Gran” and consequently they put upon me just asmuch as ever they like and I sit a growling in my easy-chair.

My dear whether it is that a grown man as clever as the Major cannotgive half his heart and mind to anything—even a plaything—butmust get into right down earnest with it, whether it is so or whetherit is not so I do not undertake to say, but Jemmy is far out-done bythe serious and believing ways of the Major in the management of theUnited Grand Junction Lirriper and Jackman Great Norfolk Parlour Line,“For” says my Jemmy with the sparkling eyes when it waschristened, “we must have a whole mouthful of name Gran or ourdear old Public” and there the young rogue kissed me, “won’tstump up.”  So the Public took the shares—ten at ninepence,and immediately when that was spent twelve Preference at one and sixpence—andthey were all signed by Jemmy and countersigned by the Major, and betweenourselves much better worth the money than some shares I have paid forin my time.  In the same holidays the line was made and workedand opened and ran excursions and had collisions and burst its boilersand all sorts of accidents and offences all most regular correct andpretty.  The sense of responsibility entertained by the Major asa military style of station-master my dear starting the down train behindtime and ringing one of those little bells that you buy with the littlecoal-scuttles off the tray round the man’s neck in the streetdid him honour, but noticing the Major of a night when he is writingout his monthly report to Jemmy at school of the state of the RollingStock and the Permanent Way and all the rest of it (the whole kept uponthe Major’s sideboard and dusted with his own hands every morningbefore varnishing his boots) I notice him as full of thought and careas full can be and frowning in a fearful manner, but indeed the Majordoes nothing by halves as witness his great delight in going out surveyingwith Jemmy when he has Jemmy to go with, carrying a chain and a measuring-tapeand driving I don’t know what improvements right through WestminsterAbbey and fully believed in the streets to be knocking everything upsidedown by Act of Parliament.  As please Heaven will come to passwhen Jemmy takes to that as a profession!

Mentioning my poor Lirriper brings into my head his own youngestbrother the Doctor though Doctor of what I am sure it would be hardto say unless Liquor, for neither Physic nor Music nor yet Law doesJoshua Lirriper know a morsel of except continually being summoned tothe County Court and having orders made upon him which he runs awayfrom, and once was taken in the passage of this very house with an umbrellaup and the Major’s hat on, giving his name with the door-mat roundhim as Sir Johnson Jones, K.C.B. in spectacles residing at the HorseGuards.  On which occasion he had got into the house not a minutebefore, through the girl letting him on the mat when he sent in a pieceof paper twisted more like one of those spills for lighting candlesthan a note, offering me the choice between thirty shillings in handand his brains on the premises marked immediate and waiting for an answer. My dear it gave me such a dreadful turn to think of the brains of mypoor dear Lirriper’s own flesh and blood flying about the newoilcloth however unworthy to be so assisted, that I went out of my roomhere to ask him what he would take once for all not to do it for lifewhen I found him in the custody of two gentlemen that I should havejudged to be in the feather-bed trade if they had not announced thelaw, so fluffy were their personal appearance.  “Bring yourchains, sir,” says Joshua to the littlest of the two in the biggesthat, “rivet on my fetters!”  Imagine my feelings whenI pictered him clanking up Norfolk Street in irons and Miss Wozenhamlooking out of window!  “Gentlemen,” I says all ofa tremble and ready to drop “please to bring him into Major Jackman’sapartments.”  So they brought him into the Parlours, andwhen the Major spies his own curly-brimmed hat on him which Joshua Lirriperhad whipped off its peg in the passage for a military disguise he goesinto such a tearing passion that he tips it off his head with his handand kicks it up to the ceiling with his foot where it grazed long afterwards. “Major” I says “be cool and advise me what to do withJoshua my dead and gone Lirriper’s own youngest brother.” “Madam” says the Major “my advice is that you boardand lodge him in a Powder Mill, with a handsome gratuity to the proprietorwhen exploded.”  “Major” I says “as a Christianyou cannot mean your words.”  “Madam” says theMajor “by the Lord I do!” and indeed the Major besides beingwith all his merits a very passionate man for his size had a bad opinionof Joshua on account of former troubles even unattended by libertiestaken with his apparel.  When Joshua Lirriper hears this conversationbetwixt us he turns upon the littlest one with the biggest hat and says“Come sir!  Remove me to my vile dungeon.  Where ismy mouldy straw?”  My dear at the picter of him rising inmy mind dressed almost entirely in padlocks like Baron Trenck in Jemmy’sbook I was so overcome that I burst into tears and I says to the Major,“Major take my keys and settle with these gentlemen or I shallnever know a happy minute more,” which was done several timesboth before and since, but still I must remember that Joshua Lirriperhas his good feelings and shows them in being always so troubled inhis mind when he cannot wear mourning for his brother.  Many along year have I left off my widow’s mourning not being wishfulto intrude, but the tender point in Joshua that I cannot help a littleyielding to is when he writes “One single sovereign would enableme to wear a decent suit of mourning for my much-loved brother. I vowed at the time of his lamented death that I would ever wear sablesin memory of him but Alas how short-sighted is man, How keep that vowwhen penniless!”  It says a good deal for the strength ofhis feelings that he couldn’t have been seven year old when mypoor Lirriper died and to have kept to it ever since is highly creditable. But we know there’s good in all of us,—if we only knew whereit was in some of us,—and though it was far from delicate in Joshuato work upon the dear child’s feelings when first sent to schooland write down into Lincolnshire for his pocket-money by return of postand got it, still he is my poor Lirriper’s own youngest brotherand mightn’t have meant not paying his bill at the Salisbury Armswhen his affection took him down to stay a fortnight at Hatfield churchyardand might have meant to keep sober but for bad company.  Consequentlyif the Major hadplayed on him with the garden-engine which hegot privately into his room without my knowing of it, I think that muchas I should have regretted it there would have been words betwixt theMajor and me.  Therefore my dear though he played on Mr. Buffleby mistake being hot in his head, and though it might have been misrepresenteddown at Wozenham’s into not being ready for Mr. Buffle in otherrespects he being the Assessed Taxes, still I do not so much regretit as perhaps I ought.  And whether Joshua Lirriper will yet dowell in life I cannot say, but I did hear of his coming, out at a PrivateTheatre in the character of a Bandit without receiving any offers afterwardsfrom the regular managers.

Mentioning Mr. Baffle gives an instance of there being good in personswhere good is not expected, for it cannot be denied that Mr. Buffle’smanners when engaged in his business were not agreeable.  To collectis one thing, and to look about as if suspicious of the goods beinggradually removing in the dead of the night by a back door is another,over taxing you have no control but suspecting is voluntary.  Allowancestoo must ever be made for a gentleman of the Major’s warmth notrelishing being spoke to with a pen in the mouth, and while I do notknow that it is more irritable to my own feelings to have a low-crownedhat with a broad brim kept on in doors than any other hat still I canappreciate the Major’s, besides which without bearing malice orvengeance the Major is a man that scores up arrears as his habit alwayswas with Joshua Lirriper.  So at last my dear the Major lay inwait for Mr. Buffle, and it worrited me a good deal.  Mr. Bufflegives his rap of two sharp knocks one day and the Major bounces to thedoor.  “Collector has called for two quarters’ AssessedTaxes” says Mr. Buffle.  “They are ready for him”says the Major and brings him in here.  But on the way Mr. Bufflelooks about him in his usual suspicious manner and the Major fires andasks him “Do you see a Ghost sir?”  “No sir”says Mr. Buffle.  “Because I have before noticed you”says the Major “apparently looking for a spectre very hard beneaththe roof of my respected friend.  When you find that supernaturalagent, be so good as point him out sir.”  Mr. Buffle staresat the Major and then nods at me.  “Mrs. Lirriper sir”says the Major going off into a perfect steam and introducing me withhis hand.  “Pleasure of knowing her” says Mr. Buffle. “A—hum!—Jemmy Jackman sir!” says the Major introducinghimself.  “Honour of knowing you by sight” says Mr.Buffle.  “Jemmy Jackman sir” says the Major wagginghis head sideways in a sort of obstinate fury “presents to youhis esteemed friend that lady Mrs. Emma Lirriper of Eighty-one NorfolkStreet Strand London in the County of Middlesex in the United Kingdomof Great Britain and Ireland.  Upon which occasion sir,”says the Major, “Jemmy Jackman takes your hat off.” Mr. Buffle looks at his hat where the Major drops it on the floor, andhe picks it up and puts it on again.  “Sir” says theMajor very red and looking him full in the face “there are twoquarters of the Gallantry Taxes due and the Collector has called.” Upon which if you can believe my words my dear the Major drops Mr. Buffle’shat off again.  “This—” Mr. Buffle begins veryangry with his pen in his mouth, when the Major steaming more and moresays “Take your bit out sir!  Or by the whole infernal systemof Taxation of this country and every individual figure in the NationalDebt, I’ll get upon your back and ride you like a horse!”which it’s my belief he would have done and even actually jerkinghis neat little legs ready for a spring as it was.  “This,”says Mr. Buffle without his pen “is an assault and I’llhave the law of you.”  “Sir” replies the Major“if you are a man of honour, your Collector of whatever may bedue on the Honourable Assessment by applying to Major Jackman at theParlours Mrs. Lirriper’s Lodgings, may obtain what he wants infull at any moment.”

When the Major glared at Mr. Buffle with those meaning words my dearI literally gasped for a teaspoonful of salvolatile in a wine-glassof water, and I says “Pray let it go no farther gentlemen I begand beseech of you!”  But the Major could be got to do nothingelse but snort long after Mr. Buffle was gone, and the effect it hadupon my whole mass of blood when on the next day of Mr. Buffle’srounds the Major spruced himself up and went humming a tune up and downthe street with one eye almost obliterated by his hat there are notexpressions in Johnson’s Dictionary to state.  But I safelyput the street door on the jar and got behind the Major’s blindswith my shawl on and my mind made up the moment I saw danger to rushout screeching till my voice failed me and catch the Major round theneck till my strength went and have all parties bound.  I had notbeen behind the blinds a quarter of an hour when I saw Mr. Buffle approachingwith his Collecting-books in his hand.  The Major likewise sawhim approaching and hummed louder and himself approached.  Theymet before the Airy railings.  The Major takes off his hat at arm’slength and says “Mr. Buffle I believe?”  Mr. Buffletakes off hishat at arm’s length and says “Thatis my name sir.”  Says the Major “Have you any commandsfor me, Mr. Buffle?”  Says Mr. Buffle “Not any sir.” Then my dear both of ’em bowed very low and haughty and parted,and whenever Mr. Buffle made his rounds in future him and the Majoralways met and bowed before the Airy railings, putting me much in mindof Hamlet and the other gentleman in mourning before killing one another,though I could have wished the other gentleman had done it fairer andeven if less polite no poison.

Mr. Buffle’s family were not liked in this neighbourhood, forwhen you are a householder my dear you’ll find it does not comeby nature to like the Assessed, and it was considered besides that aone-horse pheayton ought not to have elevated Mrs. Buffle to that heightespecially when purloined from the Taxes which I myself did consideruncharitable.  But they were notliked and there was thatdomestic unhappiness in the family in consequence of their both beingvery hard with Miss Buffle and one another on account of Miss Buffle’sfavouring Mr. Buffle’s articled young gentleman, that it waswhispered that Miss Buffle would go either into a consumption or a conventshe being so very thin and off her appetite and two close-shaved gentlemenwith white bands round their necks peeping round the corner whenevershe went out in waistcoats resembling black pinafores.  So thingsstood towards Mr. Buffle when one night I was woke by a frightful noiseand a smell of burning, and going to my bedroom window saw the wholestreet in a glow.  Fortunately we had two sets empty just thenand before I could hurry on some clothes I heard the Major hammeringat the attics’ doors and calling out “Dress yourselves!—Fire! Don’t be frightened!—Fire!  Collect your presence ofmind!—Fire!  All right—Fire!” most tremenjously. As I opened my bedroom door the Major came tumbling in over himselfand me, and caught me in his arms.  “Major” I saysbreathless “where is it?”  “I don’t knowdearest madam” says the Major—“Fire!  Jemmy Jackmanwill defend you to the last drop of his blood—Fire!  If thedear boy was at home what a treat this would be for him—Fire!”and altogether very collected and bold except that he couldn’tsay a single sentence without shaking me to the very centre with roaringFire.  We ran down to the drawing-room and put our heads out ofwindow, and the Major calls to an unfeeling young monkey, scamperingby be joyful and ready to split “Where is it?—Fire!” The monkey answers without stopping “O here’s a lark! Old Buffle’s been setting his house alight to prevent its beingfound out that he boned the Taxes.  Hurrah!  Fire!” And then the sparks came flying up and the smoke came pouring down andthe crackling of flames and spatting of water and banging of enginesand hacking of axes and breaking of glass and knocking at doors andthe shouting and crying and hurrying and the heat and altogether gaveme a dreadful palpitation.  “Don’t be frightened dearestmadam,” says the Major, “—Fire!  There’snothing to be alarmed at—Fire!  Don’t open the streetdoor till I come back—Fire!  I’ll go and see if I canbe of any service—Fire!  You’re quite composed andcomfortable ain’t you?—Fire, Fire, Fire!”  Itwas in vain for me to hold the man and tell him he’d be gallopedto death by the engines—pumped to death by his over-exertions—wet-feetedto death by the slop and mess—flattened to death when the roofsfell in—his spirit was up and he went scampering off after theyoung monkey with all the breath he had and none to spare, and me andthe girls huddled together at the parlour windows looking at the dreadfulflames above the houses over the way, Mr. Buffle’s being roundthe corner.  Presently what should we see but some people runningdown the street straight to our door, and then the Major directing operationsin the busiest way, and then some more people and then—carriedin a chair similar to Guy Fawkes—Mr. Buffle in a blanket!

My dear the Major has Mr. Buffle brought up our steps and whiskedinto the parlour and carted out on the sofy, and then he and all therest of them without so much as a word burst away again full speed leavingthe impression of a vision except for Mr. Buffle awful in his blanketwith his eyes a rolling.  In a twinkling they all burst back againwith Mrs. Buffle in another blanket, which whisked in and carted outon the sofy they all burst off again and all burst back again with MissBuffle in another blanket, which again whisked in and carted out theyall burst off again and all burst back again with Mr. Buffle’sarticled young gentleman in another blanket—him a holding roundthe necks of two men carrying him by the legs, similar to the picterof the disgraceful creetur who has lost the fight (but where the chairI do not know) and his hair having the appearance of newly played upon. When all four of a row, the Major rubs his hands and whispers me withwhat little hoarseness he can get together, “If our dear remarkableboy was only at home what a delightful treat this would be for him!”

My dear we made them some hot tea and toast and some hot brandy-and-waterwith a little comfortable nutmeg in it, and at first they were scaredand low in their spirits but being fully insured got sociable. And the first use Mr. Buffle made of his tongue was to call the Majorhis Preserver and his best of friends and to say “My for everdearest sir let me make you known to Mrs. Buffle” which also addressedhim as her Preserver and her best of friends and was fully as cordialas the blanket would admit of.  Also Miss Buffle.  The articledyoung gentleman’s head was a little light and he sat a moaning“Robina is reduced to cinders, Robina is reduced to cinders!” Which went more to the heart on account of his having got wrapped inhis blanket as if he was looking out of a violinceller case, until Mr.Buffle says “Robina speak to him!”  Miss Buffle says“Dear George!” and but for the Major’s pouring downbrandy-and-water on the instant which caused a catching in his throatowing to the nutmeg and a violent fit of coughing it might have provedtoo much for his strength.  When the articled young gentleman gotthe better of it Mr. Buffle leaned up against Mrs. Buffle being twobundles, a little while in confidence, and then says with tears in hiseyes which the Major noticing wiped, “We have not been an unitedfamily, let us after this danger become so, take her George.” The young gentleman could not put his arm out far to do it, but hisspoken expressions were very beautiful though of a wandering class. And I do not know that I ever had a much pleasanter meal than the breakfastwe took together after we had all dozed, when Miss Buffle made tea verysweetly in quite the Roman style as depicted formerly at Covent GardenTheatre and when the whole family was most agreeable, as they have everproved since that night when the Major stood at the foot of the Fire-Escapeand claimed them as they came down—the young gentleman head-foremost,which accounts.  And though I do not say that we should be lessliable to think ill of one another if strictly limited to blankets,still I do say that we might most of us come to a better understandingif we kept one another less at a distance.

Why there’s Wozenham’s lower down on the other side ofthe street.  I had a feeling of much soreness several years respectingwhat I must still ever call Miss Wozenham’s systematic underbiddingand the likeness of the house in Bradshaw having far too many windowsand a most umbrageous and outrageous Oak which never yet was seen inNorfolk Street nor yet a carriage and four at Wozenham’s door,which it would have been far more to Bradshaw’s credit to havedrawn a cab.  This frame of mind continued bitter down to the veryafternoon in January last when one of my girls, Sally Rairyganoo whichI still suspect of Irish extraction though family represented Cambridge,else why abscond with a bricklayer of the Limerick persuasion and bemarried in pattens not waiting till his black eye was decently got roundwith all the company fourteen in number and one horse fighting outsideon the roof of the vehicle,—I repeat my dear my ill-regulatedstate of mind towards Miss Wozenham continued down to the very afternoonof January last past when Sally Rairyganoo came banging (I can use nomilder expression) into my room with a jump which may be Cambridge andmay not, and said “Hurroo Missis!  Miss Wozenham’ssold up!”  My dear when I had it thrown in my face and consciencethat the girl Sally had reason to think I could be glad of the ruinof a fellow-creeter, I burst into tears and dropped back in my chairand I says “I am ashamed of myself!”

Well!  I tried to settle to my tea but I could not do it whatwith thinking of Miss Wozenham and her distresses.  It was a wretchednight and I went up to a front window and looked over at Wozenham’sand as well as I could make it out down the street in the fog it wasthe dismallest of the dismal and not a light to be seen.  So atlast I save to myself “This will not do,” and I puts onmy oldest bonnet and shawl not wishing Miss Wozenham to be remindedof my best at such a time, and lo and behold you I goes over to Wozenham’sand knocks.  “Miss Wozenham at home?” I says turningmy head when I heard the door go.  And then I saw it was Miss Wozenhamherself who had opened it and sadly worn she was poor thing and hereyes all swelled and swelled with crying.  “Miss Wozenham”I says “it is several years since there was a little unpleasantnessbetwixt us on the subject of my grandson’s cap being down yourAiry.  I have overlooked it and I hope you have done the same.” “Yes Mrs. Lirriper” she says in a surprise, “I have.” “Then my dear” I says “I should be glad to come inand speak a word to you.”  Upon my calling her my dear MissWozenham breaks out a crying most pitiful, and a not unfeeling elderlyperson that might have been better shaved in a nightcap with a hat overit offering a polite apology for the mumps having worked themselvesinto his constitution, and also for sending home to his wife on thebellows which was in his hand as a writing-desk, looks out of the backparlour and says “The lady wants a word of comfort” andgoes in again.  So I was able to say quite natural “Wantsa word of comfort does she sir?  Then please the pigs she shallhave it!”  And Miss Wozenham and me we go into the frontroom with a wretched light that seemed to have been crying too and wassputtering out, and I says “Now my dear, tell me all,” andshe wrings her hands and says “O Mrs. Lirriper that man is inpossession here, and I have not a friend in the world who is able tohelp me with a shilling.”

It doesn’t signify a bit what a talkative old body like mesaid to Miss Wozenham when she said that, and so I’ll tell youinstead my dear that I’d have given thirty shillings to have takenher over to tea, only I durstn’t on account of the Major. Not you see but what I knew I could draw the Major out like thread andwind him round my finger on most subjects and perhaps even on that ifI was to set myself to it, but him and me had so often belied Miss Wozenhamto one another that I was shamefaced, and I knew she had offended hispride and never mine, and likewise I felt timid that that Rairyganoogirl might make things awkward.  So I says “My dear if youcould give me a cup of tea to clear my muddle of a head I should betterunderstand your affairs.”  And we had the tea and the affairstoo and after all it was but forty pound, and—There! she’sas industrious and straight a creeter as ever lived and has paid backhalf of it already, and where’s the use of saying more, particularlywhen it ain’t the point?  For the point is that when shewas a kissing my hands and holding them in hers and kissing them againand blessing blessing blessing, I cheered up at last and I says “Whywhat a waddling old goose I have been my dear to take you for somethingso very different!”  “Ah but I too” says she“how have Imistaken you!”  “Comefor goodness’ sake tell me” I says “what you thoughtof me?”  “O” says she “I thought you hadno feeling for such a hard hand-to-mouth life as mine, and were rollingin affluence.”  I says shaking my sides (and very glad todo it for I had been a choking quite long enough) “Only look atmy figure my dear and give me your opinion whether if I was in affluenceI should be likely to roll in it?”  That did it?  Wegot as merry as grigs (whatever theyare, if you happen to knowmy dear—Idon’t) and I went home to my blessed homeas happy and as thankful as could be.  But before I make an endof it, think even of my having misunderstood the Major!  Yes! For next forenoon the Major came into my little room with his brushedhat in his hand and he begins “My dearest madam—”and then put his face in his hat as if he had just come into church. As I sat all in a maze he came out of his hat and began again. “My esteemed and beloved friend—” and then went intohis hat again.  “Major,” I cries out frightened “hasanything happened to our darling boy?”  “No, no, no”says the Major “but Miss Wozenham has been here this morning tomake her excuses to me, and by the Lord I can’t get over whatshe told me.”  “Hoity toity, Major,” I says “youdon’t know yet that I was afraid of you last night and didn’tthink half as well of you as I ought!  So come out of church Majorand forgive me like a dear old friend and I’ll never do so anymore.”  And I leave you to judge my dear whether I ever didor will.  And how affecting to think of Miss Wozenham out of hersmall income and her losses doing so much for her poor old father, andkeeping a brother that had had the misfortune to soften his brain againstthe hard mathematics as neat as a new pin in the three back representedto lodgers as a lumber-room and consuming a whole shoulder of muttonwhenever provided!

And now my dear I really am a going to tell you about my Legacy ifyou’re inclined to favour me with your attention, and I did fullyintend to have come straight to it only one thing does so bring up another. It was the month of June and the day before Midsummer Day when my girlWinifred Madgers—she was what is termed a Plymouth Sister, andthe Plymouth Brother that made away with her was quite right, for atidier young woman for a wife never came into a house and afterwardscalled with the beautifullest Plymouth Twins—it was the day beforeMidsummer Day when Winifred Madgers comes and says to me “A gentlemanfrom the Consul’s wishes particular to speak to Mrs. Lirriper.” If you’ll believe me my dear the Consols at the bank where I havea little matter for Jemmy got into my head, and I says “Good graciousI hope he ain’t had any dreadful fall!”  Says Winifred“He don’t look as if he had ma’am.”  AndI says “Show him in.”

The gentleman came in dark and with his hair cropped what I shouldconsider too close, and he says very polite “Madame Lirrwiper!” I says, “Yes sir.  Take a chair.”  “I come,”says he “frrwom the Frrwench Consul’s.”  So Isaw at once that it wasn’t the Bank of England.   “Wehave rrweceived,” says the gentleman turning his r’s verycurious and skilful, “frrwom the Mairrwie at Sens, a communicationwhich I will have the honour to rrwead.  Madame Lirrwiper understandsFrrwench?”  “O dear no sir!” says I.  “MadameLirriper don’t understand anything of the sort.”  “Itmatters not,” says the gentleman, “I will trrwanslate.”

With that my dear the gentleman after reading something about a Departmentand a Marie (which Lord forgive me I supposed till the Major came homewas Mary, and never was I more puzzled than to think how that youngwoman came to have so much to do with it) translated a lot with themost obliging pains, and it came to this:—That in the town ofSons in France an unknown Englishman lay a dying.  That he wasspeechless and without motion.  That in his lodging there was agold watch and a purse containing such and such money and a trunk containingsuch and such clothes, but no passport and no papers, except that onhis table was a pack of cards and that he had written in pencil on theback of the ace of hearts: “To the authorities.  When I amdead, pray send what is left, as a last Legacy, to Mrs. Lirriper Eighty-oneNorfolk Street Strand London.”  When the gentleman had explainedall this, which seemed to be drawn up much more methodical than I shouldhave given the French credit for, not at that time knowing the nation,he put the document into my hand.  And much the wiser I was forthat you may be sure, except that it had the look of being made outupon grocery paper and was stamped all over with eagles.

“Does Madame Lirrwiper” says the gentleman “believeshe rrwecognises her unfortunate compatrrwiot?”

You may imagine the flurry it put me into my dear to be talked toabout my compatriots.

I says “Excuse me.  Would you have the kindness sir tomake your language as simple as you can?”

“This Englishman unhappy, at the point of death.  Thiscompatrrwiot afflicted,” says the gentleman.

“Thank you sir” I says “I understand you now. No sir I have not the least idea who this can be.”

“Has Madame Lirrwiper no son, no nephew, no godson, no frrwiend,no acquaintance of any kind in Frrwance?”

“To my certain knowledge” says I “no relation orfriend, and to the best of my belief no acquaintance.”

“Pardon me.  You take Locataires?” says the gentleman.

My dear fully believing he was offering me something with his obligingforeign manners,—snuff for anything I knew,—I gave a littlebend of my head and I says if you’ll credit it, “No I thankyou.  I have not contracted the habit.”

The gentleman looks perplexed and says “Lodgers!”

“Oh!” says I laughing.  “Bless the man! Why yes to be sure!”

“May it not be a former lodger?” says the gentleman. “Some lodger that you pardoned some rrwent?  You have pardonedlodgers some rrwent?”

“Hem!  It has happened sir” says I, “but Iassure you I can call to mind no gentleman of that description thatthis is at all likely to be.”

In short my dear, we could make nothing of it, and the gentlemannoted down what I said and went away.  But he left me the paperof which he had two with him, and when the Major came in I says to theMajor as I put it in his hand “Major here’s Old Moore’sAlmanac with the hieroglyphic complete, for your opinion.”

It took the Major a little longer to read than I should have thought,judging from the copious flow with which he seemed to be gifted whenattacking the organ-men, but at last he got through it, and stood agazing at me in amazement.

“Major” I says “you’re paralysed.”

“Madam” says the Major, “Jemmy Jackman is doubledup.”

Now it did so happen that the Major had been out to get a littleinformation about railroads and steamboats, as our boy was coming homefor his Midsummer holidays next day and we were going to take him somewherefor a treat and a change.  So while the Major stood a gazing itcame into my head to say to him “Major I wish you’d go andlook at some of your books and maps, and see whereabouts this same townof Sens is in France.”

The Major he roused himself and he went into the Parlours and hepoked about a little, and he came back to me and he says, “Sensmy dearest madam is seventy-odd miles south of Paris.”

With what I may truly call a desperate effort “Major,”I says “we’ll go there with our blessed boy.”

If ever the Major was beside himself it was at the thoughts of thatjourney.  All day long he was like the wild man of the woods aftermeeting with an advertisement in the papers telling him something tohis advantage, and early next morning hours before Jemmy could possiblycome home he was outside in the street ready to call out to him thatwe was all a going to France.  Young Rosycheeks you may believewas as wild as the Major, and they did carry on to that degree thatI says “If you two children ain’t more orderly I’llpack you both off to bed.”  And then they fell to cleaningup the Major’s telescope to see France with, and went out andbought a leather bag with a snap to hang round Jemmy, and him to carrythe money like a little Fortunatus with his purse.

If I hadn’t passed my word and raised their hopes, I doubtif I could have gone through with the undertaking but it was too lateto go back now.  So on the second day after Midsummer Day we wentoff by the morning mail.  And when we came to the sea which I hadnever seen but once in my life and that when my poor Lirriper was courtingme, the freshness of it and the deepness and the airiness and to thinkthat it had been rolling ever since and that it was always a rollingand so few of us minding, made me feel quite serious.  But I felthappy too and so did Jemmy and the Major and not much motion on thewhole, though me with a swimming in the head and a sinking but ableto take notice that the foreign insides appear to be constructed hollowerthan the English, leading to much more tremenjous noises when bad sailors.

But my dear the blueness and the lightness and the coloured lookof everything and the very sentry-boxes striped and the shining rattlingdrums and the little soldiers with their waists and tidy gaiters, whenwe got across to the Continent—it made me feel as if I don’tknow what—as if the atmosphere had been lifted off me.  Andas to lunch why bless you if I kept a man-cook and two kitchen-maidsI couldn’t got it done for twice the money, and no injured youngwoman a glaring at you and grudging you and acknowledging your patronageby wishing that your food might choke you, but so civil and so hot andattentive and every way comfortable except Jemmy pouring wine down histhroat by tumblers-full and me expecting to see him drop under the table.

And the way in which Jemmy spoke his French was a real charm. It was often wanted of him, for whenever anybody spoke a syllable tome I says “Non-comprenny, you’re very kind, but it’sno use—Now Jemmy!” and then Jemmy he fires away at ’emlovely, the only thing wanting in Jemmy’s French being as it appearedto me that he hardly ever understood a word of what they said to himwhich made it scarcely of the use it might have been though in otherrespects a perfect Native, and regarding the Major’s fluency Ishould have been of the opinion judging French by English that theremight have been a greater choice of words in the language though stillI must admit that if I hadn’t known him when he asked a militarygentleman in a gray cloak what o’clock it was I should have tookhim for a Frenchman born.

Before going on to look after my Legacy we were to make one regularday in Paris, and I leave you to judge my dear what a day thatwas with Jemmy and the Major and the telescope and me and the prowlingyoung man at the inn door (but very civil too) that went along withus to show the sights.  All along the railway to Paris Jemmy andthe Major had been frightening me to death by stooping down on the platformsat stations to inspect the engines underneath their mechanical stomachs,and by creeping in and out I don’t know where all, to find improvementsfor the United Grand Junction Parlour, but when we got out into thebrilliant streets on a bright morning they gave up all their Londonimprovements as a bad job and gave their minds to Paris.  Saysthe prowling young man to me “Will I speak Inglis No?” So I says “If you can young man I shall take it as a favour,”but after half-an-hour of it when I fully believed the man had gonemad and me too I says “Be so good as fall back on your Frenchsir,” knowing that then I shouldn’t have the agonies oftrying to understand him, which was a happy release.  Not thatI lost much more than the rest either, for I generally noticed thatwhen he had described something very long indeed and I says to Jemmy“What does he say Jemmy?”  Jemmy says looking withvengeance in his eye “He is so jolly indistinct!” and thatwhen he had described it longer all over again and I says to Jemmy “WellJemmy what’s it all about?” Jemmy says “He says thebuilding was repaired in seventeen hundred and four, Gran.”

Wherever that prowling young man formed his prowling habits I cannotbe expected to know, but the way in which he went round the corner whilewe had our breakfasts and was there again when we swallowed the lastcrumb was most marvellous, and just the same at dinner and at night,prowling equally at the theatre and the inn gateway and the shop doorswhen we bought a trifle or two and everywhere else but troubled witha tendency to spit.  And of Paris I can tell you no more my dearthan that it’s town and country both in one, and carved stoneand long streets of high houses and gardens and fountains and statuesand trees and gold, and immensely big soldiers and immensely littlesoldiers and the pleasantest nurses with the whitest caps a playingat skipping-rope with the bunchiest babies in the flattest caps, andclean table-cloths spread everywhere for dinner and people sitting outof doors smoking and sipping all day long and little plays being actedin the open air for little people and every shop a complete and elegantroom, and everybody seeming to play at everything in this world. And as to the sparkling lights my dear after dark, glittering high upand low down and on before and on behind and all round, and the crowdof theatres and the crowd of people and the crowd of all sorts, it’spure enchantment.  And pretty well the only thing that grated onme was that whether you pay your fare at the railway or whether youchange your money at a money-dealer’s or whether you take yourticket at the theatre, the lady or gentleman is caged up (I supposeby government) behind the strongest iron bars having more of a Zoologicalappearance than a free country.

Well to be sure when I did after all get my precious bones to bedthat night, and my Young Rogue came in to kiss me and asks “Whatdo you think of this lovely lovely Paris, Gran?”  I says“Jemmy I feel as if it was beautiful fireworks being let off inmy head.”  And very cool and refreshing the pleasant countrywas next day when we went on to look after my Legacy, and rested memuch and did me a deal of good.

So at length and at last my dear we come to Sens, a pretty littletown with a great two-towered cathedral and the rooks flying in andout of the loopholes and another tower atop of one of the towers likea sort of a stone pulpit.  In which pulpit with the birds skimmingbelow him if you’ll believe me, I saw a speck while I was restingat the inn before dinner which they made signs to me was Jemmy and whichreally was.  I had been a fancying as I sat in the balcony of thehotel that an Angel might light there and call down to the people tobe good, but I little thought what Jemmy all unknown to himself wasa calling down from that high place to some one in the town.

The pleasantest-situated inn my dear!  Right under the two towers,with their shadows a changing upon it all day like a kind of a sundial,and country people driving in and out of the courtyard in carts andhooded cabriolets and such like, and a market outside in front of thecathedral, and all so quaint and like a picter.  The Major andme agreed that whatever came of my Legacy this was the place to stayin for our holiday, and we also agreed that our dear boy had best notbe checked in his joy that night by the sight of the Englishman if hewas still alive, but that we would go together and alone.  Foryou are to understand that the Major not feeling himself quite equalin his wind to the height to which Jemmy had climbed, had come backto me and left him with the Guide.

So after dinner when Jemmy had set off to see the river, the Majorwent down to the Mairie, and presently came back with a military characterin a sword and spurs and a cocked hat and a yellow shoulder-belt andlong tags about him that he must have found inconvenient.  Andthe Major says “The Englishman still lies in the same state dearestmadam.  This gentleman will conduct us to his lodging.” Upon which the military character pulled off his cocked hat to me, andI took notice that he had shaved his forehead in imitation of NapoleonBonaparte but not like.

We wont out at the courtyard gate and past the great doors of thecathedral and down a narrow High Street where the people were sittingchatting at their shop doors and the children were at play.  Themilitary character went in front and he stopped at a pork-shop witha little statue of a pig sitting up, in the window, and a private doorthat a donkey was looking out of.

When the donkey saw the military character he came slipping out onthe pavement to turn round and then clattered along the passage intoa back yard.  So the coast being clear, the Major and me were conductedup the common stair and into the front room on the second, a bare roomwith a red tiled floor and the outside lattice blinds pulled close todarken it.  As the military character opened the blinds I saw thetower where I had seen Jemmy, darkening as the sun got low, and I turnedto the bed by the wall and saw the Englishman.

It was some kind of brain fever he had had, and his hair was allgone, and some wetted folded linen lay upon his head.  I lookedat him very attentive as he lay there all wasted away with his eyesclosed, and I says to the Major—

“Inever saw this face before.”

The Major looked at him very attentive too, and he says “Inever saw this face before.”

When the Major explained our words to the military character, thatgentleman shrugged his shoulders and showed the Major the card on whichit was written about the Legacy for me.  It had been written witha weak and trembling hand in bed, and I knew no more of the writingthan of the face.  Neither did the Major.

Though lying there alone, the poor creetur was as well taken careof as could be hoped, and would have been quite unconscious of any one’ssitting by him then.  I got the Major to say that we were not goingaway at present and that I would come back to-morrow and watch a bitby the bedside.  But I got him to add—and I shook my headhard to make it stronger—“We agree that we never saw thisface before.”

Our boy was greatly surprised when we told him sitting out in thebalcony in the starlight, and he ran over some of those stories of formerLodgers, of the Major’s putting down, and asked wasn’t itpossible that it might be this lodger or that lodger.  It was notpossible, and we went to bed.

In the morning just at breakfast-time the military character camejingling round, and said that the doctor thought from the signs he sawthere might be some rally before the end.  So I says to the Majorand Jemmy, “You two boys go and enjoy yourselves, and I’lltake my Prayer Book and go sit by the bed.”  So I went, andI sat there some hours, reading a prayer for him poor soul now and then,and it was quite on in the day when he moved his hand.

He had been so still, that the moment he moved I knew of it, andI pulled off my spectacles and laid down my book and rose and lookedat him.  From moving one hand he began to move both, and then hisaction was the action of a person groping in the dark.  Long afterhis eyes had opened, there was a film over them and he still felt forhis way out into light.  But by slow degrees his sight clearedand his hands stopped.  He saw the ceiling, he saw the wall, hesaw me.  As his sight cleared, mine cleared too, and when at lastwe looked in one another’s faces, I started back, and I criespassionately:

“O you wicked wicked man!  Your sin has found you out!”

For I knew him, the moment life looked out of his eyes, to be Mr.Edson, Jemmy’s father who had so cruelly deserted Jemmy’syoung unmarried mother who had died in my arms, poor tender creetur,and left Jemmy to me.

“You cruel wicked man!  You bad black traitor!”

With the little strength he had, he made an attempt to turn overon his wretched face to hide it.  His arm dropped out of the bedand his head with it, and there he lay before me crushed in body andin mind.  Surely the miserablest sight under the summer sun!

“O blessed Heaven,” I says a crying, “teach mewhat to say to this broken mortal!  I am a poor sinful creetur,and the Judgment is not mine.”

As I lifted my eyes up to the clear bright sky, I saw the high towerwhere Jemmy had stood above the birds, seeing that very window; andthe last look of that poor pretty young mother when her soul brightenedand got free, seemed to shine down from it.

“O man, man, man!” I says, and I went on my knees besidethe bed; “if your heart is rent asunder and you are truly penitentfor what you did, Our Saviour will have mercy on you yet!”

As I leaned my face against the bed, his feeble hand could just moveitself enough to touch me.  I hope the touch was penitent. It tried to hold my dress and keep hold, but the fingers were too weakto close.

I lifted him back upon the pillows and I says to him:

“Can you hear me?”

He looked yes.

“Do you know me?”

He looked yes, even yet more plainly.

“I am not here alone.  The Major is with me.  Yourecollect the Major?”

Yes.  That is to say he made out yes, in the same way as before.

“And even the Major and I are not alone.  My grandson—hisgodson—is with us.  Do you hear?  My grandson.”

The fingers made another trial to catch my sleeve, but could onlycreep near it and fall.

“Do you know who my grandson is?”

Yes.

“I pitied and loved his lonely mother.  When his motherlay a dying I said to her, ‘My dear, this baby is sent to a childlessold woman.’  He has been my pride and joy ever since. I love him as dearly as if he had drunk from my breast.  Do youask to see my grandson before you die?”

Yes.

“Show me, when I leave off speaking, if you correctly understandwhat I say.  He has been kept unacquainted with the story of hisbirth.  He has no knowledge of it.  No suspicion of it. If I bring him here to the side of this bed, he will suppose you tobe a perfect stranger.  It is more than I can do to keep from himthe knowledge that there is such wrong and misery in the world; butthat it was ever so near him in his innocent cradle I have kept fromhim, and I do keep from him, and I ever will keep from him, for hismother’s sake, and for his own.”

He showed me that he distinctly understood, and the tears fell fromhis eyes.

“Now rest, and you shall see him.”

So I got him a little wine and some brandy, and I put things straightabout his bed.  But I began to be troubled in my mind lest Jemmyand the Major might be too long of coming back.  What with thisoccupation for my thoughts and hands, I didn’t hear a foot uponthe stairs, and was startled when I saw the Major stopped short in themiddle of the room by the eyes of the man upon the bed, and knowinghim then, as I had known him a little while ago.

There was anger in the Major’s face, and there was horror andrepugnance and I don’t know what.  So I went up to him andI led him to the bedside, and when I clasped my hands and lifted ofthem up, the Major did the like.

“O Lord” I says “Thou knowest what we two saw togetherof the sufferings and sorrows of that young creetur now with Thee. If this dying man is truly penitent, we two together humbly pray Theeto have mercy on him!”

The Major says “Amen!” and then after a little stop Iwhispers him, “Dear old friend fetch our beloved boy.” And the Major, so clever as to have got to understand it all withoutbeing told a word, went away and brought him.

Never never never shall I forget the fair bright face of our boywhen he stood at the foot of the bed, looking at his unknown father. And O so like his dear young mother then!

“Jemmy” I says, “I have found out all about thispoor gentleman who is so ill, and he did lodge in the old house once. And as he wants to see all belonging to it, now that he is passing away,I sent for you.”

“Ah poor man!” says Jemmy stepping forward and touchingone of his hands with great gentleness.  “My heart meltsfor him.  Poor, poor man!”

The eyes that were so soon to close for ever turned to me, and Iwas not that strong in the pride of my strength that I could resistthem.

“My darling boy, there is a reason in the secret history ofthis fellow-creetur lying as the best and worst of us must all lie oneday, which I think would ease his spirit in his last hour if you wouldlay your cheek against his forehead and say, ‘May God forgiveyou!’”

“O Gran,” says Jemmy with a full heart, “I am notworthy!”  But he leaned down and did it.  Then the falteringfingers made out to catch hold of my sleeve at last, and I believe hewas a-trying to kiss me when he died.

* * * *

There my dear!  There you have the story of my Legacy in full,and it’s worth ten times the trouble I have spent upon it if youare pleased to like it.

You might suppose that it set us against the little French town ofSens, but no we didn’t find that.  I found myself that Inever looked up at the high tower atop of the other tower, but the dayscame back again when that fair young creetur with her pretty brighthair trusted in me like a mother, and the recollection made the placeso peaceful to me as I can’t express.  And every soul aboutthe hotel down to the pigeons in the courtyard made friends with Jemmyand the Major, and went lumbering away with them on all sorts of expeditionsin all sorts of vehicles drawn by rampagious cart-horses,—withheads and without,—mud for paint and ropes for harness,—andevery new friend dressed in blue like a butcher, and every new horsestanding on his hind legs wanting to devour and consume every otherhorse, and every man that had a whip to crack crack-crack-crack-crack-crackingit as if it was a schoolboy with his first.  As to the Major mydear that man lived the greater part of his time with a little tumblerin one hand and a bottle of small wine in the other, and whenever hesaw anybody else with a little tumbler, no matter who it was,—themilitary character with the tags, or the inn-servants at their supperin the courtyard, or townspeople a chatting on a bench, or country peoplea starting home after market,—down rushes the Major to clink hisglass against their glasses and cry,—Hola!  Vive Somebody!or Vive Something! as if he was beside himself.  And though I couldnot quite approve of the Major’s doing it, still the ways of theworld are the ways of the world varying according to the different partsof it, and dancing at all in the open Square with a lady that kept abarber’s shop my opinion is that the Major was right to dancehis best and to lead off with a power that I did not think was in him,though I was a little uneasy at the Barricading sound of the cries thatwere set up by the other dancers and the rest of the company, untilwhen I says “What are they ever calling out Jemmy?” Jemmysays, “They’re calling out Gran, Bravo the Military English! Bravo the Military English!” which was very gratifying to my feelingsas a Briton and became the name the Major was known by.

But every evening at a regular time we all three sat out in the balconyof the hotel at the end of the courtyard, looking up at the golden androsy light as it changed on the great towers, and looking at the shadowsof the towers as they changed on all about us ourselves included, andwhat do you think we did there?  My dear, if Jemmy hadn’tbrought some other of those stories of the Major’s taking downfrom the telling of former lodgers at Eighty-one Norfolk Street, andif he didn’t bring ’em out with this speech:

“Here you are Gran!  Here you are godfather!  Moreof ’em!  I’ll read.  And though you wrote ’emfor me, godfather, I know you won’t disapprove of my making ’emover to Gran; will you?”

“No, my dear boy,” says the Major.  “Everythingwe have is hers, and we are hers.”

“Hers ever affectionately and devotedly J. Jackman, and J.Jackman Lirriper,” cries the Young Rogue giving me a close hug. “Very well then godfather.  Look here.  As Gran is inthe Legacy way just now, I shall make these stories a part of Gran’sLegacy.  I’ll leave ’em to her.  What do you saygodfather?”

“Hip hip Hurrah!” says the Major.

“Very well then,” cries Jemmy all in a bustle. “Vive the Military English!  Vive the Lady Lirriper! Vive the Jemmy Jackman Ditto!  Vive the Legacy!  Now, youlook out, Gran.  And you look out, godfather.  I’llread!  And I’ll tell you what I’ll do besides. On the last night of our holiday here when we are all packed and goingaway, I’ll top up with something of my own.”

“Mind you do sir” says I.

CHAPTER II—MRS. LIRRIPER RELATES HOW JEMMY TOPPED UP

Well my dear and so the evening readings of those jottings of theMajor’s brought us round at last to the evening when we were allpacked and going away next day, and I do assure you that by that timethough it was deliciously comfortable to look forward to the dear oldhouse in Norfolk Street again, I had formed quite a high opinion ofthe French nation and had noticed them to be much more homely and domesticin their families and far more simple and amiable in their lives thanI had ever been led to expect, and it did strike me between ourselvesthat in one particular they might be imitated to advantage by anothernation which I will not mention, and that is in the courage with whichthey take their little enjoyments on little means and with little thingsand don’t let solemn big-wigs stare them out of countenance orspeechify them dull, of which said solemn big-wigs I have ever had theone opinion that I wish they were all made comfortable separately incoppers with the lids on and never let out any more.

“Now young man,” I says to Jemmy when we brought ourchairs into the balcony that last evening, “you please to rememberwho was to ‘top up.’”

“All right Gran” says Jemmy.  “I am the illustriouspersonage.”

But he looked so serious after he had made me that light answer,that the Major raised his eyebrows at me and I raised mine at the Major.

“Gran and godfather,” says Jemmy, “you can hardlythink how much my mind has run on Mr. Edson’s death.”

It gave me a little check.  “Ah! it was a sad scene mylove” I says, “and sad remembrances come back stronger thanmerry.  But this” I says after a little silence, to rousemyself and the Major and Jemmy all together, “is not topping up. Tell us your story my dear.”

“I will” says Jemmy.

“What is the date sir?” says I.  “Once upona time when pigs drank wine?”

“No Gran,” says Jemmy, still serious; “once upona time when the French drank wine.”

Again I glanced at the Major, and the Major glanced at me.

“In short, Gran and godfather,” says Jemmy, looking up,“the date is this time, and I’m going to tell you Mr. Edson’sstory.”

The flutter that it threw me into.  The change of colour onthe part of the Major!

“That is to say, you understand,” our bright-eyed boysays, “I am going to give you my version of it.  I shallnot ask whether it’s right or not, firstly because you said youknew very little about it, Gran, and secondly because what little youdid know was a secret.”

I folded my hands in my lap and I never took my eyes off Jemmy ashe went running on.

“The unfortunate gentleman” Jemmy commences, “whois the subject of our present narrative was the son of Somebody, andwas born Somewhere, and chose a profession Somehow.  It is notwith those parts of his career that we have to deal; but with his earlyattachment to a young and beautiful lady.”

I thought I should have dropped.  I durstn’t look at theMajor; but I know what his state was, without looking at him.

“The father of our ill-starred hero” says Jemmy, copyingas it seemed to me the style of some of his story-books, “wasa worldly man who entertained ambitious views for his only son and whofirmly set his face against the contemplated alliance with a virtuousbut penniless orphan.  Indeed he went so far as roundly to assureour hero that unless he weaned his thoughts from the object of his devotedaffection, he would disinherit him.  At the same time, he proposedas a suitable match the daughter of a neighbouring gentleman of a goodestate, who was neither ill-favoured nor unamiable, and whose eligibilityin a pecuniary point of view could not be disputed.  But youngMr. Edson, true to the first and only love that had inflamed his breast,rejected all considerations of self-advancement, and, deprecating hisfather’s anger in a respectful letter, ran away with her.”

My dear I had begun to take a turn for the better, but when it cometo running away I began to take another turn for the worse.

“The lovers” says Jemmy “fled to London and wereunited at the altar of Saint Clement’s Danes.  And it isat this period of their simple but touching story that we find theminmates of the dwelling of a highly-respected and beloved lady of thename of Gran, residing within a hundred miles of Norfolk Street.”

I felt that we were almost safe now, I felt that the dear boy hadno suspicion of the bitter truth, and I looked at the Major for thefirst time and drew a long breath.  The Major gave me a nod.

“Our hero’s father” Jemmy goes on “provingimplacable and carrying his threat into unrelenting execution, the strugglesof the young couple in London were severe, and would have been far moreso, but for their good angel’s having conducted them to the abodeof Mrs. Gran; who, divining their poverty (in spite of their endeavoursto conceal it from her), by a thousand delicate arts smoothed theirrough way, and alleviated the sharpness of their first distress.”

Here Jemmy took one of my hands in one of his, and began a markingthe turns of his story by making me give a beat from time to time uponhis other hand.

“After a while, they left the house of Mrs. Gran, and pursuedtheir fortunes through a variety of successes and failures elsewhere. But in all reverses, whether for good or evil, the words of Mr. Edsonto the fair young partner of his life were, ‘Unchanging Love andTruth will carry us through all!’”

My hand trembled in the dear boy’s, those words were so wofullyunlike the fact.

“Unchanging Love and Truth” says Jemmy over again, asif he had a proud kind of a noble pleasure in it, “will carryus through all!  Those were his words.  And so they foughttheir way, poor but gallant and happy, until Mrs. Edson gave birth toa child.”

“A daughter,” I says.

“No,” says Jemmy, “a son.  And the fatherwas so proud of it that he could hardly bear it out of his sight. But a dark cloud overspread the scene.  Mrs. Edson sickened, drooped,and died.”

“Ah!  Sickened, drooped, and died!” I says.

“And so Mr. Edson’s only comfort, only hope on earth,and only stimulus to action, was his darling boy.  As the childgrew older, he grew so like his mother that he was her living picture. It used to make him wonder why his father cried when he kissed him. But unhappily he was like his mother in constitution as well as in face,and lo, died too before he had grown out of childhood.  Then Mr.Edson, who had good abilities, in his forlornness and despair, threwthem all to the winds.  He became apathetic, reckless, lost. Little by little he sank down, down, down, down, until at last he almostlived (I think) by gaming.  And so sickness overtook him in thetown of Sens in France, and he lay down to die.  But now that helaid him down when all was done, and looked back upon the green Pastbeyond the time when he had covered it with ashes, he thought gratefullyof the good Mrs. Gran long lost sight of, who had been so kind to himand his young wife in the early days of their marriage, and he leftthe little that he had as a last Legacy to her.  And she, beingbrought to see him, at first no more knew him than she would know fromseeing the ruin of a Greek or Roman Temple, what it used to be beforeit fell; but at length she remembered him.  And then he told her,with tears, of his regret for the misspent part of his life, and besoughther to think as mildly of it as she could, because it was the poor fallenAngel of his unchanging Love and Constancy after all.  And becauseshe had her grandson with her, and he fancied that his own boy, if hehad lived, might have grown to be something like him, he asked her tolet him touch his forehead with his cheek and say certain parting words.”

Jemmy’s voice sank low when it got to that, and tears filledmy eyes, and filled the Major’s.

“You little Conjurer” I says, “how did you evermake it all out?  Go in and write it every word down, for it’sa wonder.”

Which Jemmy did, and I have repeated it to you my dear from his writing.

Then the Major took my hand and kissed it, and said, “Dearestmadam all has prospered with us.”

“Ah Major” I says drying my eyes, “we needn’thave been afraid.  We might have known it.  Treachery don’tcome natural to beaming youth; but trust and pity, love and constancy,—theydo, thank God!”

Related articles