The Crofton Boys - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel The Crofton Boys Part 11 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"n.o.body will ever understand what I mean about justice," muttered Hugh.
"Suppose," said Firth, "while you are complaining of injustice in this way, somebody else should be complaining in the same way of your injustice."
"n.o.body can--fairly," replied Hugh.
"Do you see that poor fellow, skulking there under the orchard-wall?"
"What, Holt?"
"Yes, Holt. I fancy the thought in his mind at this moment is that you are the most unjust person at Crofton."
"I! Unjust!"
"Yes; so he thinks. When you first came, you and he were companions.
You found comfort in each other while all the rest were strangers to you. You were glad to hear, by the hour together, what he had to tell you about India, and his voyages and travels. Now he feels himself lonely and forsaken, while he sees you happy with a friend. He thinks it hard that you should desert him because he owes you a shilling, when he was cheated quite as much as you."
"Because he owes me a shilling!" cried Hugh, starting to his feet, "as if--"
Once more he had nearly fallen from his perch. Firth caught him; and then asked him how Holt should think otherwise than as he did, since Hugh had been his constant companion up to that Sat.u.r.day afternoon, and had hardly spoken to him since.
Hugh protested that the shilling had nothing to do with the matter; and he never meant to take more than sixpence from Holt, because he thought Lamb was the one who ought to pay the shilling. The thing was, he did not, and could not, like Holt half so well as Dale. He could not make a friend of Holt, because he wanted spirit--he had no courage. What could he do? He could not pretend to be intimate with Holt when he did not like him; and if he explained that the shilling had nothing to do with the matter, he could not explain how it really was, when the fault was in the boy's character, and not in his having given any particular offence. What could he do?
Firth thought he could only learn not to expect, anywhere out of the bounds of home, what he thought justice. He must, of course, try himself to be just to everybody; but he must make up his mind in school, as men have to do in the world, to be misunderstood--to be wrongly valued; to be blamed when he felt himself the injured one; and praised when he knew he did not deserve it.
"But it is so hard," said Hugh.
"And what do people leave home for but to learn hard lessons?"
"But still, if it were not for--"
"For what? Do you see any comfort under it?" asked Firth, fixing his eyes on Hugh.
Hugh nodded, without speaking.
"That One understands us who cannot be unjust!" whispered Firth. "I am glad you feel that."
"Even home would be bad enough without that," said Hugh. "And what would school be?"
"Or the world?" added Frith. "But do not get cross, and complain again.
Leave that to those who have no comfort."
Hugh nodded again. Then he got down, and ran to tell Holt that he did not want a shilling from him, because he thought sixpence would be fairer.
Holt was glad to hear this at first; but he presently said that it did not much matter, for that he had no more chance of being able to pay sixpence than a shilling. His parents were in India, and his uncle never offered him any money. He knew indeed that his uncle had none to spare; for he had said in the boy's hearing, that it was hard on him to have to pay the school-bills (unless he might pay them in the produce of his farm), so long as it must be before he could be repaid from India.
So Holt did not dare to ask for pocket-money; and for the hundredth time he sighed over his debt. He had almost left off hoping that Hugh, would excuse him altogether, though everybody knew that Hugh had five shillings in Mrs Watson's hands. This fact and Hugh's frequent applications to Lamb for payment, had caused an impression that Hugh was fond of money. It was not so; and yet the charge was not unfair. Hugh was ready to give if properly asked; but he did not relish, and could not bear with temper, the injustice of such a forced borrowing as had stripped him of his half-crown. He wanted his five shillings for presents for his family; and for these reasons, and not because he was miserly, he did not offer to excuse Holt's debt; which it would have been more generous to have done. n.o.body could wish that he should excuse Lamb's.
"When are you going to your uncle's?" asked Holt. "I suppose you _are_ going some day before Christmas."
"On Sat.u.r.day, to stay till Sunday night," said Hugh.
"And Proctor goes too, I suppose?"
"Yes; of course, Phil goes too."
"Anybody else?"
"We are each to take one friend, just for Sat.u.r.day, to come home at night."
"Oh? Then, you will take me. You said you would."
"Did I? That must have been a long time ago."
"But you did say so,--that, whenever you went, you would ask leave to take me."
"I don't remember any such thing. And I am going to take Dale this time. I have promised him."
Holt cried with vexation. Dale was always in his way. Hugh cared for n.o.body but Dale; but Dale should not go to Mr Shaw's till he had had his turn. He had been promised first, and he would go first. He would speak to Mrs Watson, and get leave to go and tell Mrs Shaw, and then he was sure Mr Shaw would let him go.
Hugh was very uncomfortable. He really could not remember having made this promise: but he could not be sure that he had not. He asked Holt if he thought he should like to be in people's way, to spoil the holiday by going where he was not wished for; but this sort of remonstrance did not comfort Holt at all. Hugh offered that he should have the very next turn, if he would give up now.
"I dare say! And when will that be? You know on Sunday it will want only nineteen days to the holidays; and you will not be going to your uncle's again this half-year. A pretty way of putting me off!"
Then, as if a sudden thought had struck him, he cried,--
"But Proctor has to take somebody."
"Yes; Phil takes Tooke. They settled that a week ago."
"Oh! Can't you ask him to take me?"
"No; I shall not meddle with Phil. Besides, I am glad he has chosen Tooke. Tooke behaved well to me about the sponge that day. Tooke has some spirit."
This put Holt in mind of the worst of his adventures since he came to Crofton, and of all the miseries of being shunned as a tell-tale. He cried so bitterly as to touch Hugh's heart. As if thinking aloud, Hugh told him that he seemed very forlorn, and that he wished he would find a friend to be intimate with. This would make him so much happier as he had no idea of; as he himself had found since he had had Dale for a friend.
This naturally brought out a torrent of reproaches, which was followed by a hot argument; Holt insisting that Hugh ought to have been his intimate friend; and Hugh asking how he could make a friend of a boy who wanted spirit. They broke away from one another at last, Hugh declaring Holt to be unreasonable and selfish, and Holt thinking Hugh cruel and insulting.
Of course Mrs Watson would not hear of Holt's going to Mr Shaw, to ask for an invitation for Sat.u.r.day. He was told he must wait till another time. It was no great consolation to Holt that on Sunday it would want only nineteen days to the holidays: for he was to remain at Crofton. He hoped to like the holidays better than school-days, and to be petted by Mrs Watson, and to sit by the fire, instead of being forced into the playground in all weathers; but still he could not look forward to Christmas with the glee which other boys felt.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
A LONG DAY.
Hugh, meantime, was counting the hours till Sat.u.r.day. Perhaps, if the truth were known, so was Phil, though he was too old to acknowledge such a longing. But the climbing about the mill,--the play encouraged there by his uncle and the men,--his uncle's stories within doors, his aunt's good dinners,--the fire-side, the picture-books, the talk of home, altogether made up the greatest treat of the half-year. Phil had plenty of ways of pa.s.sing the time. Hugh began a long letter home,--the very last letter, except the short formal one which should declare when the Christmas vacation should commence. Hugh meant to write half the letter before Sat.u.r.day, and then fill it up with an account of his visit to his uncle's.
The days were pa.s.sed, however, when Hugh had the command of his leisure time, as on his arrival, when his hours were apt to hang heavy. He had long since become too valuable in the playground to be left to follow his own devices. As the youngest boy, he was looked upon as a sort of servant to the rest, when once it was found that he was quick and clever. Either as scout, messenger, or in some such capacity, he was continually wanted; and often at times inconvenient to himself. He then usually remembered what Mr Tooke had told him of his boy, when Tooke was the youngest,--how he bore things--not only being put on the high wall, but being well worked in the service of the older boys. Usually Hugh was obliging, but he could and did feel cross at times. He was cross on this Friday,--the day when he was so anxious to write his letter before going to his uncle's. On Sat.u.r.day there would be no time.
The early mornings were dark now; and after school he should have to wash and dress, and be off to his uncle's. On Friday then, his paper was ruled, and he had only to run across the playground to borrow Firth's penknife, and then nothing should delay his letter.