Dr. Jolliffe's Boys Part 4

Many Weston boys who had nothing to do with Slam, who did not care for ratting, and saw no fun in being the proprietor of a dog that could only be seen occasionally and by stealth, took a perfectly legitimate interest in Wobbler as a compet.i.tor in the Somersetshire ten-miles championship, and when it became generally known that he was training in the neighbourhood (which was not for some time, nor until the number of boxing lessons subscribed for by the Saurin cla.s.s had been pretty well exhausted), a good many repaired when time allowed to the nice bit of straight highroad some two miles off where the pedestrian pounded along daily, with his body inclined somewhat forward, his arms held in front of his chest, a little stick in his right hand, fair heel and toe, at a rate of over seven miles in the hour. A group, of which Penryhn was one, were walking in that direction one afternoon, when Buller overtook them at a sharp run, pulling up alongside his friend.

"So you have come then after all?" said Penryhn.

"Yes," replied Buller, mopping his forehead. "I finished the task I set myself directly after you started, and thought I could catch you up.

But it's hot!"

"Is it true that you have been elected into the house eleven?"

"Yes," replied Buller; "it seems rum, doesn't it?"

"I don't know why it should. I am sure I am very glad, old fellow, for I know that you wished it."

"Well, yes I did. I am uncommonly fond of cricket, don't you see, and have tried hard to improve."

"That you must have done, by Jove! But how was it?"

"Well, Robarts said something to Crawley, and Crawley came up to me the day before yesterday and said he had heard that I could bowl a bit; would I come and give him a few b.a.l.l.s. So I went and bowled to him for an hour, and the result was that he called a house meeting, and I was put into the eleven."

"You will be in the school eleven next year, you see."

"I don't know," replied Buller; "it depends on how I get on, you know.

I might make a regular mull of it."

"Bosh! not you; you have gone on improving too steadily for that," said Penryhn confidently. "This is one of the milestones the chap comes to; he will be here presently if we wait. What's the row over there?"

"Oh! one of those men with images, and some of our fellows, Saurin, Edwards, and that lot, chaffing him."

An Italian with a large tray of plaster of Paris figures on his head was tramping from one town to another, and seeing the groups of boys gathered in different parts of the road, thought he might do a stroke of business, so taking down the tray he solicited attention.

"I makes them all myself; I am poor man, but artist."

"Ah! and how do you sell them?" asked Saurin.

"Sheap, oh mosh too sheap; what you like to give."

"Will you take a shilling for the whole lot?"

"Oh! young gentleman, you make fun, you joke. Ha, ha! One shilling for the beautiful little statues! What joke!"

"Too much, is it? I thought so; not but what they would make capital c.o.c.kshies."

A large pile of flints, hammered into a convenient size and form for missiles, lay handy, ready for repairing the road, and the coincidence caused Saurin's idea to become popular at once.

"Let's have one for a c.o.c.kshy. Here's Bismark."

"He's a German, and I hate German; most abominable language I have had to tackle yet. Stick Bismark up on that gate, and we will shy from the other side of the road. Stick him up, I say, you jabbering idiot."

"Oh! sare, what pity to throw stone at the beautiful cast! Buy him and take him home, no break him."

In spite of his remonstrances the great chancellor was set up on the five-barred gate, and the boys began to pelt him from the heap of stones on the opposite side of the road.

"And who is to pay me for my beautiful images?" asked the Italian, in some trepidation for his money, it being difficult to say which of all these eccentric young savages was the actual purchaser.

"Oh! whoever does not hit it shall owe you for it."

"But I should like that you pay now, before you throw."

"Why, you idiot, how can we tell who hits and who misses beforehand.

Stand out of the way can't you!"

"Good shot!" "That was near." "That has got him!" and down went the bust in fragments. Then a Cupid was exposed to missiles far more substantial than his own, and succ.u.mbed. His mama was next sent up by these young Goths; fancy Venus herself being put in the pillory and stoned! What one thing after that could they be expected to respect?

Not the infant Samuel, who, in spite of his supplicatory att.i.tude, found no pity. Not Sir Garnet Wolseley, who was exposed to as hot a fire as he had ever been under before, with worse luck; not Mr Gladstone, nor Minerva, nor Tennyson. The spirit of mischief, the thirst for destruction, grew wilder by gratification, and soon the whole stock of models was reduced to a heap of plaster fragments.

"Ah! well, I have sell them all quick to-day," said the Italian, putting a good face on the business, which yet looked to him rather doubtful, and it is very rare for people to indulge in mischief at their own expense. "It is twenty shilling, one pound you owe me, sare," he added to Saurin.

"I owe you!" cried Saurin. "I like that! Why, I hit more of them than anyone else, and it was those who missed the lot who were to be responsible. Go to them, man."

"Oh! gentleman, kind gentleman, you are making fun of me. You speak to me first; you say, 'Put up the figures for shy.' I poor man, you gentleman. You laugh! Give me my money, you sare, or you, or you;" and the Italian grasped his long black hair with both hands, and danced about in a manner which amused his tormentors greatly, and their laughter put him a rage.

"You rob me," he cried, "I will go to the police; I will have you put in prison if you no pay me. Give me my money."

"We will make a c.o.c.kshy of you if you don't look out," said one; and another actually threw a stone at him, an example which others were preparing to follow, when Crawley, with a group of boys who had seen nothing of the early part of the business, came up, and seemed inclined to take the Italian's part. The aggressors dropped their stones quietly and began to slip away.

"It's a beastly shame, and a disgrace to the school," said Crawley indignantly. Saurin heard him as he hurried off, and if he had had any money in his pocket he would have turned back, thrown it to the image man, and asked Crawley what he meant. But being without funds he was obliged to make off while he could, or the Italian would fix on him and follow him home. For to break away and show him a fair pair of heels across country would be impossible after an altercation with his school- fellow; it would be putting himself in too humiliating a position. So he walked on at a sharp pace, choking with suppressed pa.s.sion.

"Where he live, that fellow; where he live?" cried the Italian. "Per Baccho, I will have the police to him! You know him, excellenza; tell me where he live?"

"I will not tell you that," said Crawley. "But here's half-a-crown for you."

A considerable number of boys had now collected, and as example, whether for good or evil, has an extraordinary effect on either boys or men, a collection was started. Some gave a shilling, some sixpence, and a sum of ten shillings was made up altogether, which was probably quite as much as the figures were worth. So the Italian calmed down and dried his eyes, for he had been crying like a child, and with a profusion of thanks took up his board and went his way. And it being time to go back to Weston, all the boys started off in that direction, leaving Mr Wobbler to tramp backwards and forwards between his milestones in solitude. Of course some kind friend told all this to Saurin, and it exasperated him still more, if that was possible. One thing he was determined upon, Crawley must be repaid the money he had given to the Italian figure-seller at once. After hunting in all his waistcoat pockets and his drawers he could only raise eighteenpence, so he went to Edwards' room.

"Look here, old fellow," he said; "lend me a shilling till Monday, I want it particularly."

"I'm awfully sorry," replied Edwards, "I have not got one."

"I'll pay you back on Monday, honour bright."

"I know you would; it isn't that. I a.s.sure you I am not making excuses; you should have it directly if it were possible; but I am as penniless as a fellow can be, not so much as a postage-stamp have I got."

"I must get a shilling somehow; whom to ask?"

"Ask Griffiths; he always has money," suggested Edwards.

"Hang the fellow, yes," said Saurin. "But he will make such a favour of it if he lends it, and he is just as likely as not to refuse. I have it, though! He offered me half-a-crown for my crossbow last term, and I would not let him have it; he shall now."

The crossbow in question was an ingenious little thing about six inches long, the bow of steel, the string of catgut, the stock and barrel of wood, and it projected marbles or spherical bullets with very considerable force. It would raise a b.u.mp on the head at twenty yards, and break a window at thirty. Griffiths also lived in Mr Cookson's house, so that Saurin had only to go to his own room, get out, dust, and rub up the article, which had lain in a corner forgotten, and go up the other staircase.

"I say, Griffiths," he began; "in turning out some old things I have just come across this little steel bow which you wanted to buy of me, you know. I am tired of it now, and so you can have it if you like.