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The Lost Middy Part 7

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But the love was in abeyance on this particular morning at the Den, as the old man had named his out-of-the-way solitary dwelling, and Aleck felt that the place was rightly named as he stood ready to face the savage-looking denizen of the place, who, after staring him down with a pair of fiercely glowing eyes, suddenly opened upon him with:

"Now, then, sir! So you've been fighting?"

"Yes, uncle," said the boy, meekly.

"Who with?"

"Some of the Rockabie boys, uncle."

"Hah! And in the face of all that I have said and taught you about your being different by your birth and education from the young ragam.u.f.fin rout of Rockabie harbour! Cannot you run over there in your boat and do what business you have to carry out without being mixed up in some broil?"

"No, uncle."

"Disgraceful, sir! A gentleman's education should teach him that his weapons are words properly applied, and not tooth and nail, blows and kicks."

"I never bit or kicked, uncle," said Aleck, sullenly.

"Of course not, sir; and don't retort upon me in that insolent way. You know perfectly well that I was speaking metaphorically. Did you for a moment imagine I thought you used your teeth and claws like a savage dog?"

"No, uncle."

"Then don't reply to me like that. Of course I would know you would use your fists. Look at your knuckles!" thundered the old man.

Aleck looked at those parts of his person dismally, and they looked bad.

For the skin was damaged in three places, and the nail of his left thumb was split in a painful way.

"Disgusting," said the old man. "I trusted you to go over there, and you come back a disreputable wreck. All my teaching seems to be thrown away upon a pugnacious untrustworthy boy."

"I'm not pugnacious, uncle, if they'd let me alone."

"Bah! You ought to be above noticing the sc.u.m of the place."

"I am, uncle, and I don't notice them," pleaded the boy; "it's they who will notice me."

"How, pray?"

"I can't go into the place without their mobbing me and calling me names."

"Contemptible! And pray, sir," cried the old man, in harsh, sarcastic tones, "what do they call you?"

"All sorts of things," replied the boy, confusedly. "I can't recollect now. Yes, I know; sometimes they shout 'Fox' or 'Foxy' after me."

"And pray why?"

"Because they say I've just come out of the Den."

"Rubbish."

"At other times it's 'Spider.'"

"Spider?"

"Yes, uncle; because I've got such long legs."

"Worse and worse," cried the old man. "To fight for that! It is childish."

"Oh, I didn't fight for that, uncle!"

"What for, then, pray, sir?"

"Sometimes they lay wait for me and hide behind a smack or the harbour wall, and pelt me with sh.e.l.ls and the nasty offal left about by the fishermen."

"Disgusting! The insolent young dogs! They deserve to be flogged. So that is why you fought this morning?"

"Sometimes they throw pebbles and cobble stones, uncle," said the boy, evasively. "And they're so clever with them; they throw so well. I don't like to be hit and hurt, uncle. I suppose I've got a bad temper.

I do keep it under so long as they call me names and throw nasty, soft things, but when a stone hits me and hurts, something inside my chest seems to get loose, and I feel hot and burning. I want to hurt whoever threw as much as he hurt me."

"What!" cried the old man. "Haven't I taught you, sir, that you must be above resenting the attacks of the vulgar herd?"

"Yes, uncle."

"Of course. I have always had to bear those a.s.saults, boy. And so the young ruffians threw stones at you?"

Aleck hesitated.

"It was heads and bits of fish to-day, uncle."

"The sc.u.m! The insolent sc.u.m! And some of the offal hit you?"

"Well, no; nothing hit me, uncle. They followed me about all through the place, and shouted at me every time I came out of a shop."

"Bah! And because some young ragam.u.f.fins were insolent to you, my nephew must lower himself to their level. This is not the first time, sir. You have complained to me before, and you remember what I said to you one day when you came back after engaging in a most degrading scuffle."

"Yes, uncle."

"You promised me that should never occur again, after I had pointed out to you what your conduct ought to be, and how that the more you noticed these young rascals' proceedings the worse it would be."

"Yes, uncle, but I couldn't remember it to-day. You can't tell how bad it was, and how hard to bear."

"I? Not tell? Not know?" cried the old man, pa.s.sionately. "I not know what it is to be the b.u.t.t of a few boys? You talk in your ignorance, sir, like a fool talketh. Why, for long years past I have been the mark for the contumely and insult of civilised England. Don't make your paltry excuses to me. I say your conduct has been disgraceful. You were trusted to go. I made no objection, sir, save that for your sake and protection you should have an experienced boatman to help manage your boat on the way back, and you come home in this degraded state-- hands and face bruised, your lips cut, and your eyes swollen up ready to turn black with horrible bruises. Aleck, it is blackguardly. You make me feel as if I ought to treat you as you deserve--take down that dusty old riding whip and flog you soundly."

Aleck started violently, and his eyes flashed through the narrow slits of lids.

"But I can't treat you, an educated, thoughtful lad, in such a degrading way. The lash is only for those whose nature is low and vile--whose education has never placed them upon a level with such as you. It would be the right punishment for the lads who continually annoy and a.s.sault you. But as for you--Aleck, I am hurt and disappointed. To come back like this because a few boys pelted you!"

"No, uncle, it was not because of that," cried the lad, warmly.

"Then, why was it, sir?"

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The Lost Middy Part 7 summary

You're reading The Lost Middy. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): George Manville Fenn. Already has 547 views.

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