ThenhecaughtsightoftheHighlandbonnetwithitsribbons。
Hepickeditupgleefully,forgettingher。Shewentout。
WhenhewasnineteenhesuddenlylefttheCo-op。officeandgot,asituationinNottingham。Inhisnewplacehehadthirtyshillings,aweekinsteadofeighteen。Thiswasindeedarise。Hismotherand,hisfatherwerebrimmedupwithpride。EverybodypraisedWilliam。
Itseemedhewasgoingtogetonrapidly。Mrs。Morelhoped,withhisaid,tohelpheryoungersons。Anniewasnowstudying,tobeateacher。Paul,alsoveryclever,wasgettingonwell,havinglessonsinFrenchandGermanfromhisgodfather,theclergyman,whowasstillafriendtoMrs。Morel。Arthur,aspoiltandvery,good-lookingboy,wasattheBoardschool,buttherewastalk,ofhistryingtogetascholarshipfortheHighSchoolinNottingham。
WilliamremainedayearathisnewpostinNottingham。
Hewasstudyinghard,andgrowingserious。Somethingseemedtobe,frettinghim。Stillhewentouttothedancesandtheriverparties。
Hedidnotdrink。Thechildrenwereallrabidteetotallers。
Hecamehomeverylateatnight,andsatyetlongerstudying。
Hismotherimploredhimtotakemorecare,todoonething,oranother。
“Dance,ifyouwanttodance,myson;butdon’tthinkyoucan,workintheoffice,andthenamuseyourself,andTHEN
studyontopofall。Youcan’t;thehumanframewon’t,standit。Doonethingortheother——amuseyourselforlearnLatin;
butdon’ttrytodoboth。”
ThenhegotaplaceinLondon,atahundredandtwentyayear。
Thisseemedafabuloussum。Hismotherdoubtedalmostwhetherto,rejoiceortogrieve。
“TheywantmeinLimeStreetonMondayweek,mother,“hecried,hiseyesblazingashereadtheletter。Mrs。Morelfelteverything,gosilentinsideher。Hereadtheletter:,“’Andwillyoureply,byThursdaywhetheryouaccept。Yoursfaithfully——’,Theywantme,mother,atahundredandtwentyayear,anddon’tevenasktoseeme。
Didn’tItellyouIcoulddoit!,ThinkofmeinLondon!,AndI
cangiveyoutwentypoundsayear,mater。Wes’llallberolling,inmoney。”
“Weshall,myson,“sheansweredsadly。
Itneveroccurredtohimthatshemightbemorehurtathisgoing,awaythangladofhissuccess。Indeed,asthedaysdrewnearfor,hisdeparture,herheartbegantocloseandgrowdrearywithdespair。
Shelovedhimsomuch!,Morethanthat,shehopedinhimsomuch。
Almostshelivedbyhim。Shelikedtodothingsforhim:,sheliked,toputacupforhisteaandtoironhiscollars,ofwhichhewas,soproud。Itwasajoytohertohavehimproudofhiscollars。
Therewasnolaundry。Sosheusedtorubawayatthemwithherlittle,convexiron,topolishthem,tilltheyshonefromthesheerpressure,ofherarm。Nowshewouldnotdoitforhim。Nowhewasgoingaway。
Shefeltalmostasifheweregoingaswelloutofherheart。
Hedidnotseemtoleaveherinhabitedwithhimself。Thatwasthegrief,andthepaintoher。Hetooknearlyallhimselfaway。
Afewdaysbeforehisdeparture——hewasjusttwenty——heburnedhis,love-letters。Theyhadhungonafileatthetopofthekitchencupboard。
Fromsomeofthemhehadreadextractstohismother。Someofthem,shehadtakenthetroubletoreadherself。Butmostweretootrivial。
Now,ontheSaturdaymorninghesaid:
“Comeon,Postle,let’sgothroughmyletters,andyoucan,havethebirdsandflowers。”
Mrs。MorelhaddoneherSaturday’sworkontheFriday,becausehewashavingalastday’sholiday。Shewasmakinghim,aricecake,whichheloved,totakewithhim。Hewasscarcely,consciousthatshewassomiserable。
Hetookthefirstletteroffthefile。Itwasmauve-tinted,andhadpurpleandgreenthistles。Williamsniffedthepage。
“Nicescent!,Smell。”
AndhethrustthesheetunderPaul’snose。
“Um!”saidPaul,breathingin。”Whatd’youcallit?,Smell,mother。”
Hismotherduckedhersmall,finenosedowntothepaper。
“Idon’twanttosmelltheirrubbish,“shesaid,sniffing。
“Thisgirl’sfather,“saidWilliam,“isasrichasCroesus。
Heownspropertywithoutend。ShecallsmeLafayette,becauseI
knowFrench。’Youwillsee,I’veforgivenyou’——IlikeHERforgivingme。
’Itoldmotheraboutyouthismorning,andshewillhavemuch,pleasureifyoucometoteaonSunday,butshewillhavetoget,father’sconsentalso。Isincerelyhopehewillagree。Iwilllet,youknowhowittranspires。If,however,you——’“
“’Letyouknowhowit’what?”interruptedMrs。Morel。
“’Transpires’——ohyes!”
“’Transpires!’“repeatedMrs。Morelmockingly。”Ithought,shewassowelleducated!”
Williamfeltslightlyuncomfortable,andabandonedthismaiden,givingPaulthecornerwiththethistles。Hecontinuedtoread,extractsfromhisletters,someofwhichamusedhismother,someofwhichsaddenedherandmadeheranxiousforhim。
“Mylad,“shesaid,“they’reverywise。Theyknowthey’ve,onlygottoflatteryourvanity,andyoupressuptothemlike,adogthathasitsheadscratched。”
“Well,theycan’tgoonscratchingforever,“hereplied。
“Andwhenthey’vedone,Itrotaway。”
“Butonedayyou’llfindastringroundyourneckthatyou,can’tpulloff,“sheanswered。
“Notme!,I’mequaltoanyof’em,mater,theyneedn’t,flatterthemselves。”
“YouflatterYOURSELF,“shesaidquietly。
Soontherewasaheapoftwistedblackpages,allthatremained,ofthefileofscentedletters,exceptthatPaulhadthirtyor,fortyprettyticketsfromthecornersofthenotepaper——swallows,andforget-me-notsandivysprays。AndWilliamwenttoLondon,tostartanewlife。
CHAPTERIV
THEYOUNGLIFEOFPAUL
PAULwouldbebuiltlikehismother,slightlyandrathersmall。
Hisfairhairwentreddish,andthendarkbrown;hiseyesweregrey。
Hewasapale,quietchild,witheyesthatseemedtolisten,andwith,afull,droppingunderlip。
Asaruleheseemedoldforhisyears。Hewassoconscious,ofwhatotherpeoplefelt,particularlyhismother。Whenshe,frettedheunderstood,andcouldhavenopeace。Hissoulseemed,alwaysattentivetoher。
Ashegrewolderhebecamestronger。Williamwastoofar,removedfromhimtoaccepthimasacompanion。Sothesmallerboy,belongedatfirstalmostentirelytoAnnie。Shewasatomboyanda,“flybie-skybie“ashermothercalledher。Butshewasintensely,fondofhersecondbrother。SoPaulwastowedroundattheheels,ofAnnie,sharinghergame。Sheracedwildlyatlerkywiththeother,youngwild-catsoftheBottoms。AndalwaysPaulflewbesideher,livinghershareofthegame,havingasyetnopartofhisown。
Hewasquietandnotnoticeable。Buthissisteradoredhim。
Healwaysseemedtocareforthingsifshewantedhimto。
Shehadabigdollofwhichshewasfearfullyproud,thoughnot,sofond。Soshelaidthedollonthesofa,andcovereditwith,anantimacassar,tosleep。Thensheforgotit。MeantimePaul,mustpractisejumpingoffthesofaarm。Sohejumpedcrashinto,thefaceofthehiddendoll。Annierushedup,utteredaloudwail,andsatdowntoweepadirge。Paulremainedquitestill。
“Youcouldn’ttellitwasthere,mother;youcouldn’ttellit,wasthere,“herepeatedoverandover。SolongasAnnieweptfor,thedollhesathelplesswithmisery。Hergriefworeitselfout。
Sheforgaveherbrother——hewassomuchupset。Butadayortwo,afterwardsshewasshocked。
“Let’smakeasacrificeofArabella,“hesaid。”Let’sburnher。”
Shewashorrified,yetratherfascinated。Shewantedtosee,whattheboywoulddo。Hemadeanaltarofbricks,pulledsomeof,theshavingsoutofArabella’sbody,putthewaxenfragmentsinto,thehollowface,pouredonalittleparaffin,andsetthewholething,alight。Hewatchedwithwickedsatisfactionthedropsofwaxmeltoff,thebrokenforeheadofArabella,anddroplikesweatintotheflame。
Solongasthestupidbigdollburnedherejoicedinsilence。
Attheendbepokedamongtheemberswithastick,fishedoutthearms,andlegs,allblackened,andsmashedthemunderstones。
“That’sthesacrificeofMissisArabella,“hesaid。”An’I’m,gladthere’snothingleftofher。”
WhichdisturbedAnnieinwardly,althoughshecouldsaynothing。
Heseemedtohatethedollsointensely,becausehehadbrokenit。
Allthechildren,butparticularlyPaul,werepeculiarly,againsttheirfather,alongwiththeirmother。Morelcontinued,tobullyandtodrink。Hehadperiods,monthsatatime,whenhe,madethewholelifeofthefamilyamisery。Paulneverforgot,cominghomefromtheBandofHopeoneMondayeveningandfinding,hismotherwithhereyeswollenanddiscoloured,hisfatherstanding,onthehearthrug,feetastride,hisheaddown,andWilliam,justhomefromwork,glaringathisfather。Therewasasilence,astheyoungchildrenentered,butnoneoftheelderslookedround。
Williamwaswhitetothelips,andhisfistswereclenched。
Hewaiteduntilthechildrenweresilent,watchingwithchildren’s,rageandhate;thenhesaid:
“Youcoward,youdaren’tdoitwhenIwasin。”
ButMorel’sbloodwasup。Heswungroundonhisson。
Williamwasbigger,butMorelwashard-muscled,andmadwithfury。
“Dossn’tI?”heshouted。”Dossn’tI?,Ha’emuchmoreo’
thychelp,myyoungjockey,an’I’llrattlemyfistaboutthee。
Ay,an’Ishollthat,dostsee?”
Morelcrouchedatthekneesandshowedhisfistinanugly,almostbeast-likefashion。Williamwaswhitewithrage。
“Willyer?”hesaid,quietandintense。”It’udbethe,lasttime,though。”
Moreldancedalittlenearer,crouching,drawingbackhisfist,tostrike。Williamputhisfistsready。Alightcameintohis,blueeyes,almostlikealaugh。Hewatchedhisfather。Anotherword,andthemenwouldhavebeguntofight。Paulhopedtheywould。
Thethreechildrensatpaleonthesofa。
“Stopit,bothofyou,“criedMrs。Morelinahardvoice。
“We’vehadenoughforONEnight。AndYOU,“
shesaid,turningontoherhusband,“lookatyourchildren!”
Morelglancedatthesofa。
“Lookatthechildren,younastylittlebitch!”hesneered。
“Why,whathaveIdonetothechildren,Ishouldliketoknow?
Butthey’relikeyourself;you’veput’emuptoyourowntricksand,nastyways——you’velearned’eminit,you’ave。”
Sherefusedtoanswerhim。Noonespoke。Afterawhilehe,threwhisbootsunderthetableandwenttobed。
“Whydidn’tyouletmehaveagoathim?”saidWilliam,whenhisfatherwasupstairs。”Icouldeasilyhavebeatenhim。”
“Anicething——yourownfather,“shereplied。
“’FATHER!’“repeatedWilliam。”CallHIMMYfather!”
“Well,heis——andso——“
“Butwhydon’tyouletmesettlehim?,Icoulddo,easily。”
“Theidea!”shecried。”Ithasn’tcometoTHATyet。”
“No,“hesaid,“it’scometoworse。Lookatyourself。
WHYdidn’tyouletmegiveithim?”
“BecauseIcouldn’tbearit,soneverthinkofit,“
shecriedquickly。
Andthechildrenwenttobed,miserably。
WhenWilliamwasgrowingup,thefamilymovedfromtheBottoms,toahouseonthebrowofthehill,commandingaviewofthevalley,whichspreadoutlikeaconvexcockle-shell,oraclamp-shell,beforeit。
Infrontofthehousewasahugeoldash-tree。Thewestwind,sweepingfromDerbyshire,caughtthehouseswithfullforce,andthetreeshriekedagain。Morellikedit。
“It’smusic,“hesaid。”Itsendsmetosleep。”
ButPaulandArthurandAnniehatedit。ToPaulitbecame,almostademoniacalnoise。Thewinteroftheirfirstyear,inthenewhousetheirfatherwasverybad。Thechildrenplayed,inthestreet,onthebrimofthewide,darkvalley,untileight,o’clock。Thentheywenttobed。Theirmothersatsewingbelow。
Havingsuchagreatspaceinfrontofthehousegavethechildren,afeelingofnight,ofvastness,andofterror。Thisterrorcame,infromtheshriekingofthetreeandtheanguishofthehomediscord。
OftenPaulwouldwakeup,afterhehadbeenasleepalongtime,awareofthudsdownstairs。Instantlyhewaswideawake。Thenhe,heardtheboomingshoutsofhisfather,comehomenearlydrunk,thenthe,sharprepliesofhismother,thenthebang,bangofhisfather’sfiston,thetable,andthenastysnarlingshoutastheman’svoicegothigher。
Andthenthewholewasdrownedinapiercingmedleyofshrieks,andcriesfromthegreat,wind-sweptash-tree。Thechildren,laysilentinsuspense,waitingforalullinthewindtohear,whattheirfatherwasdoing。Hemighthittheirmotheragain。
Therewasafeelingofhorror,akindofbristlinginthedarkness,andasenseofblood。Theylaywiththeirheartsinthegripofan,intenseanguish。Thewindcamethroughthetreefiercerandfiercer。
Allthechordsofthegreatharphummed,whistled,andshrieked。
Andthencamethehorrorofthesuddensilence,silenceeverywhere,outsideanddownstairs。Whatwasit?,Wasitasilenceofblood?
Whathadhedone?
Thechildrenlayandbreathedthedarkness。Andthen,atlast,theyheardtheirfatherthrowdownhisbootsandtrampupstairs,inhisstockingedfeet。Stilltheylistened。Thenatlast,ifthewindallowed,theyheardthewaterofthetapdrumminginto,thekettle,whichtheirmotherwasfillingformorning,andthey,couldgotosleepinpeace。
Sotheywerehappyinthemorning——happy,veryhappyplaying,dancingatnightroundthelonelylamp-postinthemidstof,thedarkness。Buttheyhadonetightplaceofanxietyintheirhearts,onedarknessintheireyes,whichshowedalltheirlives。
Paulhatedhisfather。Asaboyhehadaferventprivatereligion。
“Makehimstopdrinking,“heprayedeverynight。”Lord,letmy,fatherdie,“heprayedveryoften。”Lethimnotbekilledatpit,“
heprayedwhen,aftertea,thefatherdidnotcomehomefromwork。
Thatwasanothertimewhenthefamilysufferedintensely。
Thechildrencamefromschoolandhadtheirteas。Onthehob,thebigblacksaucepanwassimmering,thestew-jarwasintheoven,readyforMorel’sdinner。Hewasexpectedatfiveo’clock。Butfor,monthshewouldstopanddrinkeverynightonhiswayfromwork。
Inthewinternights,whenitwascold,andgrewdarkearly,Mrs。Morelwouldputabrasscandlestickonthetable,lighta,tallowcandletosavethegas。Thechildrenfinishedtheir,bread-and-butter,ordripping,andwerereadytogoouttoplay。
ButifMorelhadnotcometheyfaltered。Thesenseofhissitting,inallhispit-dirt,drinking,afteralongday’swork,notcoming,homeandeatingandwashing,butsitting,gettingdrunk,onanemptystomach,madeMrs。Morelunabletobearherself。Fromherthefeelingwas,transmittedtotheotherchildren。Sheneversufferedaloneanymore:
thechildrensufferedwithher。
Paulwentouttoplaywiththerest。Downinthegreattrough,oftwilight,tinyclustersoflightsburnedwherethepitswere。
Afewlastcolliersstraggledupthedimfieldpath。Thelamplighter,camealong。Nomorecollierscame。Darknessshutdownoverthevalley;
workwasdone。Itwasnight。
ThenPaulrananxiouslyintothekitchen。Theonecandlestill,burnedonthetable,thebigfireglowedred。Mrs。Morelsatalone。
Onthehobthesaucepansteamed;thedinner-platelaywaiting,onthetable。Alltheroomwasfullofthesenseofwaiting,waitingforthemanwhowassittinginhispit-dirt,dinnerless,somemileawayfromhome,acrossthedarkness,drinkinghimselfdrunk。
Paulstoodinthedoorway。
“Hasmydadcome?”heasked。
“Youcanseehehasn’t,“saidMrs。Morel,crosswiththe,futilityofthequestion。
Thentheboydawdledaboutnearhismother。Theyshared,thesameanxiety。PresentlyMrs。Morelwentoutandstrained,thepotatoes。
“They’reruinedandblack,“shesaid;“butwhatdoIcare?”
Notmanywordswerespoken。Paulalmosthatedhismother,forsufferingbecausehisfatherdidnotcomehomefromwork。
“Whatdoyoubotheryourselffor?”hesaid。”Ifhewants,tostopandgetdrunk,whydon’tyoulethim?”
“Lethim!”flashedMrs。Morel。”Youmaywellsay’lethim’。”
Sheknewthatthemanwhostopsonthewayhomefromworkisona,quickwaytoruininghimselfandhishome。Thechildrenwereyetyoung,anddependedonthebreadwinner。Williamgaveherthesenseofrelief,providingheratlastwithsomeonetoturntoifMorelfailed。But,thetenseatmosphereoftheroomonthesewaitingeveningswasthesame。
Theminutestickedaway。Atsixo’clockstilltheclothlay,onthetable,stillthedinnerstoodwaiting,stillthesamesense,ofanxietyandexpectationintheroom。Theboycouldnotstandit,anylonger。Hecouldnotgooutandplay。SoheranintoMrs。Inger,nextdoorbutone,forhertotalktohim。Shehadnochildren。
Herhusbandwasgoodtoherbutwasinashop,andcamehomelate。
So,whenshesawtheladatthedoor,shecalled:
“Comein,Paul。”
Thetwosattalkingforsometime,whensuddenly,theboyrose,saying:
“Well,I’llbegoingandseeingifmymotherwantsanerranddoing。”
Hepretendedtobeperfectlycheerful,anddidnottellhis,friendwhatailedhim。Thenheranindoors。
Morelatthesetimescameinchurlishandhateful。
“Thisisanicetimetocomehome,“saidMrs。Morel。
“Wha’sitmattertoyo’whattimeIcomewhoam?”heshouted。
Andeverybodyinthehousewasstill,becausehewasdangerous。
Heatehisfoodinthemostbrutalmannerpossible,and,whenhe,haddone,pushedallthepotsinaheapawayfromhim,tolayhis,armsonthetable。Thenhewenttosleep。
Paulhatedhisfatherso。Thecollier’ssmall,meanhead,withitsblackhairslightlysoiledwithgrey,layonthebarearms,andtheface,dirtyandinflamed,withafleshynoseandthin,paltrybrows,wasturnedsideways,asleepwithbeerandweariness,andnastytemper。Ifanyoneenteredsuddenly,oranoiseweremade,themanlookedupandshouted:
“I’lllaymyfistaboutthyy’ead,I’mtellin’thee,iftha,doesnastopthatclatter!,Dosthear?”
Andthetwolastwords,shoutedinabullyingfashion,usuallyatAnnie,madethefamilywrithewithhateoftheman。
Hewasshutoutfromallfamilyaffairs。Noonetoldhimanything。
Thechildren,alonewiththeirmother,toldherallaboutthe,day’shappenings,everything。Nothinghadreallytakenplacein,themuntilitwastoldtotheirmother。Butassoonasthefather,camein,everythingstopped。Hewaslikethescotchinthesmooth,happymachineryofthehome。Andhewasalwaysawareofthisfall,ofsilenceonhisentry,theshuttingoffoflife,theunwelcome。
Butnowitwasgonetoofartoalter。
Hewoulddearlyhavelikedthechildrentotalktohim,buttheycouldnot。SometimesMrs。Morelwouldsay:
“Yououghttotellyourfather。”
Paulwonaprizeinacompetitioninachild’spaper。
Everybodywashighlyjubilant。
“Nowyou’dbettertellyourfatherwhenbecomesin,“
saidMrs。Morel。”Youknowhowbecarriesonandsayshe’snever,toldanything。”
“Allright,“saidPaul。Buthewouldalmostratherhave,forfeitedtheprizethanhavetotellhisfather。
“I’vewonaprizeinacompetition,dad,“hesaid。
Morelturnedroundtohim。
“Haveyou,myboy?,Whatsortofacompetition?”
“Oh,nothing——aboutfamouswomen。”
“Andhowmuchistheprize,then,asyou’vegot?”
“It’sabook。”
“Oh,indeed!“
“Aboutbirds。”
“Hm——hm!“
Andthatwasall。Conversationwasimpossiblebetweenthe,fatherandanyothermemberofthefamily。Hewasanoutsider。
HehaddeniedtheGodinhim。
Theonlytimeswhenheenteredagainintothelifeofhisownpeople,waswhenheworked,andwashappyatwork。Sometimes,intheevening,hecobbledthebootsormendedthekettleorhispit-bottle。Then,healwayswantedseveralattendants,andthechildrenenjoyedit。
Theyunitedwithhiminthework,intheactualdoingofsomething,whenhewashisrealselfagain。
Hewasagoodworkman,dexterous,andonewho,whenhewasina,goodhumour,alwayssang。Hehadwholeperiods,months,almostyears,offrictionandnastytemper。Thensometimeshewasjollyagain。
Itwasnicetoseehimrunwithapieceofred-hotironinto,thescullery,crying:
“Outofmyroad——outofmyroad!”
Thenhehammeredthesoft,red-glowingstuffonhisirongoose,andmadetheshapehewanted。Orhesatabsorbedforamoment,soldering。Thenthechildrenwatchedwithjoyasthemetalsank,suddenlymolten,andwasshovedaboutagainstthenoseofthe,soldering-iron,whiletheroomwasfullofascentofburntresin,andhottin,andMorelwassilentandintentforaminute。Healways,sangwhenhemendedbootsbecauseofthejollysoundofhammering。
Andhewasratherhappywhenhesatputtinggreatpatchesonhis,moleskinpittrousers,whichhewouldoftendo,consideringthem,toodirty,andthestufftoohard,forhiswifetomend。
Butthebesttimefortheyoungchildrenwaswhenhemadefuses。
Morelfetchedasheafoflongsoundwheat-strawsfromtheattic。
Thesehecleanedwithhishand,tilleachonegleamedlikea,stalkofgold,afterwhichhecutthestrawsintolengthsof,aboutsixinches,leaving,ifhecould,anotchatthebottom,ofeachpiece。Healwayshadabeautifullysharpknifethatcould,cutastrawcleanwithouthurtingit。Thenhesetinthemiddle,ofthetableaheapofgunpowder,alittlepileofblackgrains,uponthewhite-scrubbedboard。Hemadeandtrimmedthestraws,whilePaulandAnnierifledandpluggedthem。Paullovedtosee,theblackgrainstrickledownacrackinhispalmintothemouth,ofthestraw,pepperingjollilydownwardstillthestrawwasfull。
Thenhebungedupthemouthwithabitofsoap——whichhegoton,histhumb-nailfromapatinasaucer——andthestrawwasfinished。
“Look,dad!”hesaid。
“That’sright,mybeauty,“repliedMorel,whowaspeculiarly,lavishofendearmentstohissecondson。Paulpoppedthefuseinto,thepowder-tin,readyforthemorning,whenMorelwouldtakeit,tothepit,anduseittofireashotthatwouldblastthecoaldown。
MeantimeArthur,stillfondofhisfather,wouldlean,onthearmofMorel’schairandsay:
“Tellusaboutdownpit,daddy。”
ThisMorellovedtodo。
“Well,there’sonelittle’oss——wecall’imTaffy,“hewouldbegin。
“An’he’safawce’un!”
Morelhadawarmwayoftellingastory。Hemadeonefeel,Taffy’scunning。
“He’sabrown’un,“hewouldanswer,“an’notveryhigh。
Well,hecomesi’th’stallwi’arattle,an’thenyo’’ear’imsneeze。
“’Ello,Taff,’yousay,’whatartsneezin’for?,Binta’ein’
somesnuff?’
“An’’esneezesagain。Thenheslivesupan’shoves’is’ead,onyer,thatcadin’。
“’What’swant,Taff?’yo’say。”
“Andwhatdoeshe?”Arthuralwaysasked。
“Hewantsabito’bacca,myduckie。”
ThisstoryofTaffywouldgooninterminably,andeverybody,lovedit。
Orsometimesitwasanewtale。
“An’whatdostthink,mydarlin’?WhenIwenttoputmycoat,onatsnap-time,whatshouldgorunnin’upmyarmbutamouse。
“’Heyup,theer!’,Ishouts。
“An’Iworjustintimeterget’imbyth’tail。”
“Anddidyoukillit?”
“Idid,forthey’reanuisance。Theplaceisfairsniedwi’’em。”
“An’whatdotheyliveon?”
“Thecornasthe’ossesdrops——an’they’llgetinyourpocketan’
eatyoursnap,ifyou’lllet’em——nomatterwhereyo’hingyourcoat——
theslivin’,nibblin’littlenuisances,fortheyare。”
ThesehappyeveningscouldnottakeplaceunlessMorel,hadsomejobtodo。Andthenhealwayswenttobedveryearly,oftenbeforethechildren。Therewasnothingremainingforhim,tostayupfor,whenhehadfinishedtinkering,andhadskimmed,theheadlinesofthenewspaper。
Andthechildrenfeltsecurewhentheirfatherwasinbed。
Theylayandtalkedsoftlyawhile。Thentheystartedasthelights,wentsuddenlysprawlingovertheceilingfromthelampsthatswung,inthehandsofthecollierstrampingbyoutside,goingtotake,thenineo’clockshift。Theylistenedtothevoicesofthemen,imaginedthemdippingdownintothedarkvalley。Sometimesthey,wenttothewindowandwatchedthethreeorfourlampsgrowing,tinierandtinier,swayingdownthefieldsinthedarkness。
Thenitwasajoytorushbacktobedandcuddlecloselyin,thewarmth。
Paulwasratheradelicateboy,subjecttobronchitis。
Theotherswereallquitestrong;sothiswasanotherreason,forhismother’sdifferenceinfeelingforhim。Onedayhecame,homeatdinner-timefeelingill。Butitwasnotafamilytomake,anyfuss。
“What’sthematterwithYOU?”hismotheraskedsharply。
“Nothing,“hereplied。
Butheatenodinner。
“Ifyoueatnodinner,you’renotgoingtoschool,“shesaid。
“Why?”heasked。
“That’swhy。”
Soafterdinnerhelaydownonthesofa,onthewarmchintz,cushionsthechildrenloved。Thenhefellintoakindofdoze。
ThatafternoonMrs。Morelwasironing。Shelistenedtothesmall,restlessnoisetheboymadeinhisthroatassheworked。Againrose,inherhearttheold,almostwearyfeelingtowardshim。Shehad,neverexpectedhimtolive。Andyethehadagreatvitalityinhisyoungbody。
Perhapsitwouldhavebeenalittlerelieftoherifhehaddied。
Shealwaysfeltamixtureofanguishinherloveforhim。
He,inhissemi-conscioussleep,wasvaguelyawareof,theclatteroftheironontheiron-stand,ofthefaintthud,thudontheironing-board。Onceroused,heopenedhiseyestosee,hismotherstandingonthehearthrugwiththehotironnear,hercheek,listening,asitwere,totheheat。Herstillface,withthemouthclosedtightfromsufferinganddisillusionand,self-denial,andhernosethesmallestbitononeside,andherblue,eyessoyoung,quick,andwarm,madehisheartcontractwithlove。
Whenshewasquiet,so,shelookedbraveandrichwithlife,butas,ifshehadbeendoneoutofherrights。Ithurttheboykeenly,thisfeelingaboutherthatshehadneverhadherlife’sfulfilment:
andhisownincapabilitytomakeuptoherhurthimwithasenseof,impotence,yetmadehimpatientlydoggedinside。Itwashischildishaim。
Shespatontheiron,andalittleballofspitbounded,racedoffthedark,glossysurface。Then,kneeling,sherubbed,theirononthesackliningofthehearthrugvigorously。Shewas,warmintheruddyfirelight。Paullovedthewayshecrouched,andputherheadononeside。Hermovementswerelightandquick。
Itwasalwaysapleasuretowatchher。Nothingsheeverdid,nomovementsheevermade,couldhavebeenfoundfaultwithby,herchildren。Theroomwaswarmandfullofthescentofhotlinen。
Laterontheclergymancameandtalkedsoftlywithher。
Paulwaslaidupwithanattackofbronchitis。Hedidnot,mindmuch。Whathappenedhappened,anditwasnogoodkicking,againstthepricks。Helovedtheevenings,aftereighto’clock,whenthelightwasputout,andhecouldwatchthefire-flamesspring,overthedarknessofthewallsandceiling;couldwatchhugeshadows,wavingandtossing,tilltheroomseemedfullofmenwhobattledsilently。
Onretiringtobed,thefatherwouldcomeintothesickroom。
Hewasalwaysverygentleifanyonewereill。Buthedisturbedthe,atmospherefortheboy。
“Areterasleep,mydarlin’?”Morelaskedsoftly。
“No;ismymothercomin’?”
“She’sjustfinishin’foldin’theclothes。Doyouwantanything?”
Morelrarely“thee’d“hisson。
“Idon’twantnothing。Buthowlongwillshebe?”
“Notlong,myduckie。”
Thefatherwaitedundecidedlyonthehearthrugforamoment,ortwo。Hefelthissondidnotwanthim。Thenhewenttothetop,ofthestairsandsaidtohiswife:
“Thischildt’saxin’forthee;howlongartgoin’tobe?”
“UntilI’vefinished,goodgracious!,Tellhimtogotosleep。”
“Shesaysyou’retogotosleep,“thefatherrepeatedgently,toPaul。
“Well,IwantHERtocome,“insistedtheboy。
“Hesayshecan’tgoofftillyoucome,“Morelcalleddownstairs。
“Eh,dear!,Ishan’tbelong。Anddostopshoutingdownstairs。
There’stheotherchildren——“
ThenMorelcameagainandcrouchedbeforethebedroomfire。
Helovedafiredearly。
“Shesaysshewon’tbelong,“hesaid。
Heloiteredaboutindefinitely。Theboybegantogetfeverish,withirritation。Hisfather’spresenceseemedtoaggravateall,hissickimpatience。AtlastMorel,afterhavingstoodlooking,athissonawhile,saidsoftly:
“Good-night,mydarling。”
“Good-night,“Paulreplied,turningroundinrelieftobealone。
Paullovedtosleepwithhismother。Sleepisstillmostperfect,inspiteofhygienists,whenitissharedwithabeloved。
Thewarmth,thesecurityandpeaceofsoul,theuttercomfortfrom,thetouchoftheother,knitsthesleep,sothatittakesthebody,andsoulcompletelyinitshealing。Paullayagainstherandslept,andgotbetter;whilstshe,alwaysabadsleeper,felllateron,intoaprofoundsleepthatseemedtogiveherfaith。
Inconvalescencehewouldsitupinbed,seethefluffy,horsesfeedingatthetroughsinthefield,scatteringtheirhay,onthetroddenyellowsnow;watchtheminerstroophome——small,blackfigurestrailingslowlyingangsacrossthewhitefield。
Thenthenightcameupindarkbluevapourfromthesnow。
Inconvalescenceeverythingwaswonderful。Thesnowflakes,suddenlyarrivingonthewindow-pane,clungthereamomentlikeswallows,thenweregone,andadropofwaterwascrawlingdowntheglass。
Thesnowflakeswhirledroundthecornerofthehouse,likepigeonsdashingby。Awayacrossthevalleythelittleblack,traincrawleddoubtfullyoverthegreatwhiteness。
Whiletheyweresopoor,thechildrenweredelightedifthey,coulddoanythingtohelpeconomically。AnnieandPaulandArthur,wentoutearlyinthemorning,insummer,lookingformushrooms,huntingthroughthewetgrass,fromwhichthelarkswererising,forthewhite-skinned,wonderfulnakedbodiescrouchedsecretlyin,thegreen。Andiftheygothalfapoundtheyfeltexceedinglyhappy:
therewasthejoyoffindingsomething,thejoyofacceptingsomething,straightfromthehandofNature,andthejoyofcontributingto,thefamilyexchequer。
Butthemostimportantharvest,aftergleaningforfrumenty,wastheblackberries。Mrs。Morelmustbuyfruitforpuddingson,theSaturdays;alsoshelikedblackberries。SoPaulandArthurscoured,thecoppicesandwoodsandoldquarries,solongasablackberry,wastobefound,everyweek-endgoingontheirsearch。Inthat,regionofminingvillagesblackberriesbecameacomparativerarity。
ButPaulhuntedfarandwide。Helovedbeingoutinthecountry,amongthebushes。Buthealsocouldnotbeartogohometohis,motherempty。That,hefelt,woulddisappointher,andhewould,havediedrather。
“Goodgracious!”shewouldexclaimastheladscamein,late,andtiredtodeath,andhungry,“whereverhaveyoubeen?”
“Well,“repliedPaul,“therewasn’tany,sowewentover,MiskHills。Andlookhere,ourmother!”
Shepeepedintothebasket。
“Now,thosearefineones!”sheexclaimed。
“Andthere’sovertwopounds-isn’tthereovertwopounds“?
Shetriedthebasket。
“Yes,“sheanswereddoubtfully。
ThenPaulfishedoutalittlespray。Healwaysbroughther,onespray,thebesthecouldfind。
“Pretty!”shesaid,inacurioustone,ofawomanaccepting,alove-token。
Theboywalkedallday,wentmilesandmiles,ratherthan,ownhimselfbeatenandcomehometoherempty-handed。Shenever,realisedthis,whilsthewasyoung。Shewasawomanwhowaited,forherchildrentogrowup。AndWilliamoccupiedherchiefly。
ButwhenWilliamwenttoNottingham,andwasnotsomuchat,home,themothermadeacompanionofPaul。Thelatterwas,unconsciouslyjealousofhisbrother,andWilliamwasjealousofhim。
Atthesametime,theyweregoodfriends。
Mrs。Morel’sintimacywithhersecondsonwasmoresubtleandfine,perhapsnotsopassionateaswithhereldest。Itwastherule,thatPaulshouldfetchthemoneyonFridayafternoons。Thecolliers,ofthefivepitswerepaidonFridays,butnotindividually。
Alltheearningsofeachstallwereputdowntothechiefbutty,ascontractor,andhedividedthewagesagain,eitherinthe,public-houseorinhisownhome。Sothatthechildrencould,fetchthemoney,schoolclosedearlyonFridayafternoons。
EachoftheMorelchildren——William,thenAnnie,thenPaul——hadfetched,themoneyonFridayafternoons,untiltheywentthemselvestowork。
Paulusedtosetoffathalf-pastthree,withalittlecalicobag,inhispocket。Downallthepaths,women,girls,children,andmen,wereseentroopingtotheoffices。
Theseofficeswerequitehandsome:,anew,red-brickbuilding,almostlikeamansion,standinginitsowngroundsattheendof,GreenhillLane。Thewaiting-roomwasthehall,along,bareroom,pavedwithbluebrick,andhavingaseatallround,againstthewall。
Heresatthecolliersintheirpit-dirt。Theyhadcomeupearly。
Thewomenandchildrenusuallyloiteredaboutontheredgravelpaths。
Paulalwaysexaminedthegrassborder,andthebiggrassbank,becauseinitgrewtinypansiesandtinyforget-me-nots。There,wasasoundofmanyvoices。ThewomenhadontheirSundayhats。
Thegirlschatteredloudly。Littledogsranhereandthere。
Thegreenshrubsweresilentallaround。
Thenfrominsidecamethecry“SpinneyPark——SpinneyPark。”
AllthefolkforSpinneyParktroopedinside。Whenitwastime,forBrettytobepaid,Paulwentinamongthecrowd。Thepay-room,wasquitesmall。Acounterwentacross,dividingitintohalf。
Behindthecounterstoodtwomen——Mr。Braithwaiteandhisclerk,Mr。Winterbottom。Mr。Braithwaitewaslarge,somewhatofthestern,patriarchinappearance,havingaratherthinwhitebeard。
Hewasusuallymuffledinanenormoussilkneckerchief,andright,uptothehotsummerahugefireburnedintheopengrate。
Nowindowwasopen。Sometimesinwintertheairscorchedthethroats,ofthepeople,cominginfromthefreshness。Mr。Winterbottom,wasrathersmallandfat,andverybald。Hemaderemarksthatwere,notwitty,whilsthischieflaunchedforthpatriarchaladmonitions,againstthecolliers。
Theroomwascrowdedwithminersintheirpit-dirt,menwhohad,beenhomeandchanged,andwomen,andoneortwochildren,andusually,adog。Paulwasquitesmall,soitwasoftenhisfatetobejammed,behindthelegsofthemen,nearthefirewhichscorchedhim。
Heknewtheorderofthenames——theywentaccordingtostallnumber。
“Holliday,“cametheringingvoiceofMr。Braithwaite。
ThenMrs。Hollidaysteppedsilentlyforward,waspaid,drewaside。
“Bower——JohnBower。”
Aboysteppedtothecounter。Mr。Braithwaite,largeandirascible,gloweredathimoverhisspectacles。
“JohnBower!”herepeated。
“It’sme,“saidtheboy。
“Why,youusedto’aveadifferentnosethanthat,“saidglossy,Mr。Winterbottom,peeringoverthecounter。Thepeopletittered,thinkingofJohnBowersenior。
“Howisityourfather’snotcome!”saidMr。Braithwaite,inalargeandmagisterialvoice。
“He’sbadly,“pipedtheboy。
“Youshouldtellhimtokeepoffthedrink,“pronouncedthe,greatcashier。
“An’nivermindifheputshisfootthroughyer,“saidamocking,voicefrombehind。
Allthemenlaughed。Thelargeandimportantcashierlooked,downathisnextsheet。
“FredPilkington!”hecalled,quiteindifferent。
Mr。Braithwaitewasanimportantshareholderinthefirm。
Paulknewhisturnwasnextbutone,andhisheartbegantobeat。
Hewaspushedagainstthechimney-piece。Hiscalveswereburning。
Buthedidnothopetogetthroughthewallofmen。
“WalterMorel!”cametheringingvoice。
“Here!”pipedPaul,smallandinadequate。
“Morel——WalterMorel!”thecashierrepeated,hisfinger,andthumbontheinvoice,readytopasson。
Paulwassufferingconvulsionsofself-consciousness,andcould,notorwouldnotshout。Thebacksofthemenobliteratedhim。
ThenMr。Winterbottomcametotherescue。
“He’shere。Whereishe?,Morel’slad?”
Thefat,red,baldlittlemanpeeredroundwithkeeneyes。
Hepointedatthefireplace。Thecollierslookedround,movedaside,anddisclosedtheboy。
“Hereheis!”saidMr。Winterbottom。
Paulwenttothecounter。
“Seventeenpoundselevenandfivepence。Whydon’tyou,shoutupwhenyou’recalled?”saidMr。Braithwaite。Hebanged,ontotheinvoiceafive-poundbagofsilver,theninadelicate,andprettymovement,pickedupalittleten-poundcolumnofgold,andplumpeditbesidethesilver。Thegoldslidinabrightstream,overthepaper。Thecashierfinishedcountingoffthemoney;
theboydraggedthewholedownthecountertoMr。Winterbottom,towhomthestoppagesforrentandtoolsmustbepaid。Herehe,sufferedagain。
“Sixteenan’six,“saidMr。Winterbottom。
Theladwastoomuchupsettocount。Hepushedforwardsome,loosesilverandhalfasovereign。
“Howmuchdoyouthinkyou’vegivenme?”askedMr。Winterbottom。
Theboylookedathim,butsaidnothing。Hehadnotthe,faintestnotion。
“Haven’tyougotatongueinyourhead?”
Paulbithislip,andpushedforwardsomemoresilver。
“Don’ttheyteachyoutocountattheBoard-school?”heasked。
“Nowtbutalgibbraan’French,“saidacollier。
“An’cheekan’impidence,“saidanother。
Paulwaskeepingsomeonewaiting。Withtremblingfingershe,gothismoneyintothebagandslidout。Hesufferedthetortures,ofthedamnedontheseoccasions。
Hisrelief,whenhegotoutside,andwaswalkingalongthe,MansfieldRoad,wasinfinite。Ontheparkwallthemossesweregreen。
Thereweresomegoldandsomewhitefowlspeckingundertheapple,treesofanorchard。Thecollierswerewalkinghomeinastream。
Theboywentnearthewall,self-consciously。Heknewmanyofthemen,butcouldnotrecognisethemintheirdirt。Andthiswasanew,torturetohim。
WhenhegotdowntotheNewInn,atBretty,hisfatherwasnot,yetcome。Mrs。Wharmby,thelandlady,knewhim。Hisgrandmother,Morel’smother,hadbeenMrs。Wharmby’sfriend。
“Yourfather’snotcomeyet,“saidthelandlady,inthepeculiar,half-scornful,half-patronisingvoiceofawomanwhotalkschiefly,togrownmen。”Sityoudown。”
Paulsatdownontheedgeofthebenchinthebar。
Somecollierswere“reckoning“——sharingouttheirmoney——inacorner;
otherscamein。Theyallglancedattheboywithoutspeaking。
AtlastMorelcame;brisk,andwithsomethingofanair,evenin,hisblackness。
“Hello!”hesaidrathertenderlytohisson。”Haveyoubestedme?
Shallyouhaveadrinkofsomething?”
Paulandallthechildrenwerebredupfierceanti-alcoholists,andhewouldhavesufferedmoreindrinkingalemonadebeforeall,thementhaninhavingatoothdrawn。
Thelandladylookedathimdehautenbas,ratherpitying,andatthesametime,resentinghisclear,fiercemorality。
Paulwenthome,glowering。Heenteredthehousesilently。
Fridaywasbakingday,andtherewasusuallyahotbun。Hismother,putitbeforehim。
Suddenlyheturnedonherinafury,hiseyesflashing:
“I’mNOTgoingtotheofficeanymore,“hesaid。
“Why,what’sthematter?”hismotheraskedinsurprise。
Hissuddenragesratheramusedher。
“I’mNOTgoinganymore,“hedeclared。
“Oh,verywell,tellyourfatherso。”
Hechewedhisbunasifhehatedit。
“I’mnot——I’mnotgoingtofetchthemoney。”
“ThenoneofCarlin’schildrencango;they’dbegladenough,ofthesixpence,“saidMrs。Morel。
ThissixpencewasPaul’sonlyincome。Itmostlywentinbuying,birthdaypresents;butitWASanincome,andhetreasuredit。
But——
“Theycanhaveit,then!”hesaid。”Idon’twantit。”
“Oh,verywell,“saidhismother。”Butyouneedn’tbullyME
aboutit。”
“They’rehateful,andcommon,andhateful,theyare,andI’mnotgoinganymore。Mr。Braithwaitedropshis’h’s’,an’
Mr。Winterbottomsays’Youwas’。”
“Andisthatwhyyouwon’tgoanymore?”smiledMrs。Morel。
Theboywassilentforsometime。Hisfacewaspale,hiseyes,darkandfurious。Hismothermoved,aboutatherwork,takingnonoticeofhim。
“Theyalwaysstan’infrontofme,so’sIcan’tgetout,“
hesaid。
“Well,mylad,you’veonlytoASKthem,“shereplied。
“An’thenAlfredWinterbottomsays,’Whatdotheyteachyou,attheBoard-school?’“
“TheynevertaughtHIMmuch,“saidMrs。Morel,“thatisafact——
neithermannersnorwit——andhiscunninghewasbornwith。”
So,inherownway,shesoothedhim。
Hisridiculoushypersensitivenessmadeher,heartache。Andsometimesthefuryinhiseyes,rousedher,madehersleepingsoulliftupitsheadamoment,surprised。
“Whatwasthecheque?”sheasked。
“Seventeenpoundselevenandfivepence,andsixteen,andsixstoppages,“repliedtheboy。”It’sagoodweek;
andonlyfiveshillingsstoppagesformyfather。”
Soshewasabletocalculatehowmuchherhusbandhadearned,andcouldcallhimtoaccountifhegavehershortmoney。
Morelalwayskepttohimselfthesecretoftheweek’samount。
Fridaywasthebakingnightandmarketnight。Itwasthe,rulethatPaulshouldstayathomeandbake。Helovedtostop,inanddraworread;hewasveryfondofdrawing。Anniealways,“gallivanted“onFridaynights;Arthurwasenjoyinghimselfasusual。
Sotheboyremainedalone。
Mrs。Morellovedhermarketing。Inthetinymarket-placeon,thetopofthehill,wherefourroads,fromNottinghamandDerby,IlkestonandMansfield,meet,manystallswereerected。Brakesran,infromsurroundingvillages。Themarket-placewasfullofwomen,thestreetspackedwithmen。Itwasamazingtoseesomanymen,everywhereinthestreets。Mrs。Morelusuallyquarrelledwith,herlacewoman,sympathisedwithherfruitman——whowasagabey,buthiswifewasabad’un——laughedwiththefishman——whowas,ascampbutsodroll——putthelinoleummaninhisplace,wascold,withtheodd-waresman,andonlywenttothecrockerymanwhenshe,wasdriven——ordrawnbythecornflowersonalittledish;thenshe,wascoldlypolite。
“Iwonderedhowmuchthatlittledishwas,“shesaid。
“Sevenpencetoyou。”
“Thankyou。”
Sheputthedishdownandwalkedaway;butshecouldnotleave,themarket-placewithoutit。Againshewentbywherethepots,laycoldlyonthefloor,andsheglancedatthedishfurtively,pretendingnotto。
Shewasalittlewoman,inabonnetandablackcostume。
Herbonnetwasinitsthirdyear;itwasagreatgrievancetoAnnie。
“Mother!”thegirlimplored,“don’twearthatnubblylittlebonnet。”
“ThenwhatelseshallIwear,“repliedthemothertartly。
“AndI’msureit’srightenough。”
Ithadstartedwithatip;thenhadhadflowers;nowwas,reducedtoblacklaceandabitofjet。
“Itlooksrathercomedown,“saidPaul。”Couldn’tyougive,itapick-me-up?”
“I’lljowlyourheadforimpudence,“saidMrs。Morel,andshe,tiedthestringsoftheblackbonnetvaliantlyunderherchin。
Sheglancedatthedishagain。Bothsheandherenemy,thepotman,hadanuncomfortablefeeling,asifthereweresomething,betweenthem。Suddenlyheshouted:
“Doyouwantitforfivepence?”
Shestarted。Herhearthardened;butthenshestoopedandtook,upherdish。
“I’llhaveit,“shesaid。
“Yer’lldomethefavour,like?”hesaid。”Yer’dbetterspit,init,likeyerdowheny’avesomethinggiveyer。”
Mrs。Morelpaidhimthefivepenceinacoldmanner。
“Idon’tseeyougiveitme,“shesaid。”Youwouldn’tletme,haveitforfivepenceifyoudidn’twantto。”
“Inthisflamin’,scrattlin’placeyoumaycountyerselflucky,ifyoucangiveyourthingsaway,“hegrowled。
“Yes;therearebadtimes,andgood,“saidMrs。Morel。
Butshehadforgiventhepotman。Theywerefriends。
Shedarenowfingerhispots。Soshewashappy。
Paulwaswaitingforher。Helovedherhome-coming。She,wasalwaysherbestso——triumphant,tired,ladenwithparcels,feelingrichinspirit。Heheardherquick,lightstepintheentry,andlookedupfromhisdrawing。
“Oh!”shesighed,smilingathimfromthedoorway。
“Myword,youAREloaded!”heexclaimed,puttingdownhisbrush。
“Iam!”shegasped。”ThatbrazenAnniesaidshe’dmeetme。
SUCHaweight!”
Shedroppedherstringbagandherpackagesonthetable。
“Isthebreaddone?”sheasked,goingtotheoven。
“Thelastoneissoaking,“hereplied。”Youneedn’tlook,I’venotforgottenit。”
“Oh,thatpotman!”shesaid,closingtheovendoor。
“YouknowwhatawretchI’vesaidhewas?,Well,Idon’tthinkhe’s,quitesobad。”
“Don’tyou?”
Theboywasattentivetoher。Shetookoffherlittle,blackbonnet。
“No。Ithinkhecan’tmakeanymoney——well,it’severybody’s,cryalikenowadays——anditmakeshimdisagreeable。”
“ItwouldME,“saidPaul。
“Well,onecan’twonderatit。Andheletmehave——howmuch,doyouthinkheletmehaveTHISfor?”
Shetookthedishoutofitsragofnewspaper,andstood,lookingonitwithjoy。
“Showme!”saidPaul。
Thetwostoodtogethergloatingoverthedish。
“ILOVEcornflowersonthings,“saidPaul。
“Yes,andIthoughtoftheteapotyouboughtme——“
“Oneandthree,“saidPaul。
“Fivepence!”
“It’snotenough,mother。”
“No。Doyouknow,Ifairlysneakedoffwithit。ButI’d,beenextravagant,Icouldn’taffordanymore。Andheneedn’t,haveletmehaveitifhehadn’twantedto。”
“No,heneedn’t,needhe,“saidPaul,andthetwocomforted,eachotherfromthefearofhavingrobbedthepotman。
“Wec’nhavestewedfruitinit,“saidPaul。
“Orcustard,orajelly,“saidhismother。
“Orradishesandlettuce,“saidhe。
“Don’tforgetthatbread,“shesaid,hervoicebrightwithglee。
Paullookedintheoven;tappedtheloafonthebase。
“It’sdone,“hesaid,givingittoher。
Shetappeditalso。
“Yes,“shereplied,goingtounpackherbag。”Oh,andI’m,awicked,extravagantwoman。IknowIs’llcometowant。”
Hehoppedtohersideeagerly,toseeherlatestextravagance。
Sheunfoldedanotherlumpofnewspaperanddisclosedsomerootsof,pansiesandofcrimsondaisies。
“Fourpenn’orth!”shemoaned。
“HowCHEAP!”hecried。
“Yes,butIcouldn’tafforditTHISweekofallweeks。”
“Butlovely!”hecried。
“Aren’tthey!”sheexclaimed,givingwaytopurejoy。
“Paul,lookatthisyellowone,isn’tit——andafacejustlikean,oldman!”
“Just!”criedPaul,stoopingtosniff。”Andsmellsthatnice!
Buthe’sabitsplashed。”
Heraninthescullery,camebackwiththeflannel,andcarefully,washedthepansy。
“NOWlookathimnowhe’swet!”hesaid。
“Yes!”sheexclaimed,brimfulofsatisfaction。
ThechildrenofScargillStreetfeltquiteselect。Atthe,endwheretheMorelslivedtherewerenotmanyyoungthings。
Sothefewweremoreunited。Boysandgirlsplayedtogether,thegirlsjoininginthefightsandtheroughgames,theboystaking,partinthedancinggamesandringsandmake-beliefofthegirls。
AnnieandPaulandArthurlovedthewinterevenings,whenitwasnotwet。Theystayedindoorstillthecolliers,wereallgonehome,tillitwasthickdark,andthestreetwould,bedeserted。Thentheytiedtheirscarvesroundtheirnecks,fortheyscornedovercoats,asallthecolliers’childrendid,andwentout。Theentrywasverydark,andattheendthewhole,greatnightopenedout,inahollow,withalittletangleoflights,belowwhereMintonpitlay,andanotherfarawayoppositeforSelby。
Thefarthesttinylightsseemedtostretchoutthedarknessforever。
Thechildrenlookedanxiouslydowntheroadattheonelamp-post,whichstoodattheendofthefieldpath。Ifthelittle,luminousspaceweredeserted,thetwoboysfeltgenuinedesolation。
Theystoodwiththeirhandsintheirpocketsunderthelamp,turningtheirbacksonthenight,quitemiserable,watchingthe,darkhouses。Suddenlyapinaforeunderashortcoatwasseen,andalong-leggedgirlcameflyingup。
“Where’sBillyPillinsan’yourAnniean’EddieDakin?”
“Idon’tknow。”
Butitdidnotmattersomuch——therewerethreenow。Theyset,upagameroundthelamp-post,tilltheothersrushedup,yelling。
Thentheplaywentfastandfurious。
Therewasonlythisonelamp-post。Behindwasthegreatscoop,ofdarkness,asifallthenightwerethere。Infront,anotherwide,darkwayopenedoverthehillbrow。Occasionallysomebodycame,outofthiswayandwentintothefielddownthepath。Inadozen,yardsthenighthadswallowedthem。Thechildrenplayedon。
Theywerebroughtexceedinglyclosetogetherowingto,theirisolation。Ifaquarreltookplace,thewholeplaywasspoilt。
Arthurwasverytouchy,andBillyPillins——reallyPhilips——wasworse。
ThenPaulhadtosidewithArthur,andonPaul’ssidewentAlice,whileBillyPillinsalwayshadEmmieLimbandEddieDakintoback,himup。Thenthesixwouldfight,hatewithafuryofhatred,andfleehomeinterror。Paulneverforgot,afteroneofthesefierce,internecinefights,seeingabigredmoonliftitselfup,slowly,betweenthewasteroadoverthehilltop,steadily,likeagreatbird。
AndhethoughtoftheBible,thatthemoonshouldbeturnedtoblood。
AndthenextdayhemadehastetobefriendswithBillyPillins。
Andthenthewild,intensegameswentonagainunderthelamp-post,surroundedbysomuchdarkness。Mrs。Morel,goingintoherparlour,wouldhearthechildrensingingaway:
“MyshoesaremadeofSpanishleather,Mysocksaremadeofsilk;
Iweararingoneveryfinger,Iwashmyselfinmilk。”
Theysoundedsoperfectlyabsorbedinthegameastheirvoicescame,outofthenight,thattheyhadthefeelofwildcreaturessinging。
Itstirredthemother;andsheunderstoodwhentheycameinateight,o’clock,ruddy,withbrillianteyes,andquick,passionatespeech。
TheyalllovedtheScargillStreethouseforitsopenness,forthegreatscallopoftheworldithadinview。Onsummerevenings,thewomenwouldstandagainstthefieldfence,gossiping,facing,thewest,watchingthesunsetsflarequicklyout,tilltheDerbyshire,hillsridgedacrossthecrimsonfaraway,liketheblackcrest,ofanewt。
Inthissummerseasonthepitsneverturnedfulltime,particularlythesoftcoal。Mrs。Dakin,wholivednextdoor,toMrs。Morel,goingtothefieldfencetoshakeherhearthrug,wouldspymencomingslowlyupthehill。Shesawatoncethey,werecolliers。Thenshewaited,atall,thin,shrew-facedwoman,standingonthehillbrow,almostlikeamenacetothepoorcolliers,whoweretoilingup。Itwasonlyeleveno’clock。Fromthefar-off,woodedhillsthehazethathangslikefineblackcrapeattheback,ofasummermorninghadnotyetdissipated。Thefirstmancame,tothestile。”Chock-chock!”wentthegateunderhisthrust。
“What,han’yerknockedoff?”criedMrs。Dakin。
“Wehan,missis。”
“It’sapityastheyletnyergoo,“shesaidsarcastically。
“Itisthat,“repliedtheman。
“Nay,youknowyou’refligtocomeupagain,“shesaid。
Andthemanwenton。Mrs。Dakin,goingupheryard,spiedMrs。Moreltakingtheashestotheash-pit。
“IreckonMinton’sknockedoff,missis,“shecried。
“Isn’titsickenin!”exclaimedMrs。Morelinwrath。
“Ha!ButI’njustseedJontHutchby。”
“Theymightaswellhavesavedtheirshoe-leather,“
saidMrs。Morel。Andbothwomenwentindoorsdisgusted。
Thecolliers,theirfacesscarcelyblackened,weretrooping,homeagain。Morelhatedtogoback。Helovedthesunnymorning。
Buthehadgonetopittowork,andtobesenthomeagainspoilt,histemper。
“Goodgracious,atthistime!”exclaimedhiswife,asheentered。
“CanIhelpit,woman?”heshouted。
“AndI’venotdonehalfenoughdinner。”
“ThenI’lleatmybito’snapasItookwithme,“
hebawledpathetically。Hefeltignominiousandsore。
Andthechildren,cominghomefromschool,wouldwondertosee,theirfathereatingwithhisdinnerthetwothickslicesofrather,dryanddirtybread-and-butterthathadbeentopitandback。
“What’smydadeatinghissnapfornow?”askedArthur。
“Ishouldha’eitholledatmeifIdidna,“snortedMorel。
“Whatastory!”exclaimedhiswife。
“An’isitgoin’tobewasted?”saidMorel。”I’mnotsuch,aextravagantmortalasyoulot,withyourwaste。IfIdrop,abitofbreadatpit,inallthedustan’dirt,Ipickitupan’
eatit。”
“Themicewouldeatit,“saidPaul。”Itwouldn’tbewasted。”
“Goodbread-an’-butter’snotformice,either,“saidMorel。
“Dirtyornotdirty,I’deatitratherthanitshouldbewasted。”
“Youmightleaveitforthemiceandpayforitoutofyour,nextpint,“saidMrs。Morel。
“Oh,mightI?”heexclaimed。
Theywereverypoorthatautumn。Williamhadjustgoneaway,toLondon,andhismothermissedhismoney。Hesenttenshillingsonce,ortwice,buthehadmanythingstopayforatfirst。Hisletters,cameregularlyonceaweek。Hewroteagooddealtohismother,tellingherallhislife,howhemadefriends,andwasexchanging,lessonswithaFrenchman,howheenjoyedLondon。Hismotherfelt,againhewasremainingtoherjustaswhenhewasathome。Shewrote,tohimeveryweekherdirect,ratherwittyletters。Alldaylong,asshecleanedthehouse,shethoughtofhim。HewasinLondon:
hewoulddowell。Almost,hewaslikeherknightwhoworeHER
favourinthebattle。
HewascomingatChristmasforfivedays。Therehadnever,beensuchpreparations。PaulandArthurscouredtheland,forhollyandevergreens。Anniemadetheprettypaperhoops,intheold-fashionedway。Andtherewasunheard-ofextravagance,inthelarder。Mrs。Morelmadeabigandmagnificentcake。
Then,feelingqueenly,sheshowedPaulhowtoblanchalmonds。
Heskinnedthelongnutsreverently,countingthemall,toseenot,onewaslost。Itwassaidthateggswhiskedbetterinacoldplace。
Sotheboystoodinthescullery,wherethetemperaturewasnearly,atfreezing-point,andwhiskedandwhisked,andflewinexcitement,tohismotherasthewhiteofegggrewstifferandmoresnowy。
“Justlook,mother!,Isn’titlovely?”
Andhebalancedabitonhisnose,thenblewitintheair。
“Now,don’twasteit,“saidthemother。
Everybodywasmadwithexcitement。Williamwascomingon,ChristmasEve。Mrs。Morelsurveyedherpantry。Therewasabig,plumcake,andaricecake,jamtarts,lemontarts,andmince-pies——
twoenormousdishes。Shewasfinishingcooking——Spanishtarts,andcheese-cakes。Everywherewasdecorated。Thekissingbunch,ofberriedhollyhungwithbrightandglitteringthings,spunslowly,overMrs。Morel’sheadasshetrimmedherlittletartsinthekitchen。
第3章