The Parent's Assistant Part 35

All his companions were far out of sight. 'I suppose,' said he to his friend with the black patch--'I suppose my uncle and Ben had left home before you went for the shoes and stockings for me?'

'Oh yes, sir; the butler said they had been gone to the Downs the matter of a good half-hour or more.'

Hal trudged on as fast as he possibly could. When he got upon the Downs, he saw numbers of carriages, and crowds of people, all going towards the place of meeting at the Ostrich. He pressed forwards. He was at first so much afraid of being late, that he did not take notice of the mirth his motley appearance excited in all beholders. At length he reached the appointed spot. There was a great crowd of people. In the midst he heard Lady Diana's loud voice betting upon some one who was just going to shoot at the mark.

'So then the shooting is begun, is it?' said Hal. 'Oh, let me in! pray let me into the circle! I'm one of the archers--I am, indeed; don't you see my green and white uniform?'

'Your red and white uniform, you mean,' said the man to whom he addressed himself; and the people, as they opened a pa.s.sage for him, could not refrain laughing at the mixture of dirt and finery which it exhibited. In vain, when he got into the midst of the formidable circle, he looked to his friends, the young Sweepstakes, for their countenance and support. They were amongst the most unmerciful of the laughers. Lady Diana also seemed more to enjoy than to pity his confusion.

'Why could you not keep your hat upon your head, man?' said she, in her masculine tone. 'You have been almost the ruin of my poor uniform habit; but I've escaped rather better than you have. Don't stand there, in the middle of the circle, or you'll have an arrow in your eyes just now, I've a notion.'

Hal looked round in search of better friends. 'Oh, where's my uncle?--where's Ben?' said he. He was in such confusion, that, amongst the number of faces, he could scarcely distinguish one from another; but he felt somebody at this moment pull his elbow, and, to his great relief, he heard the friendly voice and saw the good-natured face of his cousin Ben.

'Come back--come behind these people,' said Ben, 'and put on my greatcoat; here it is for you.'

Right glad was Hal to cover his disgraced uniform with the rough greatcoat which he had formerly despised. He pulled the stained, drooping c.o.c.kade out of his unfortunate hat; and he was now sufficiently recovered from his vexation to give an intelligible account of his accident to his uncle and Patty, who anxiously inquired what had detained him so long, and what had been the matter. In the midst of the history of his disaster, he was just proving to Patty that his taking the hatband to spin his top had nothing to do with his misfortune, and he was at the same time endeavouring to refute his uncle's opinion that the waste of the whipcord that tied the parcel was the original cause of all his evils, when he was summoned to try his skill with his _famous_ bow.

'My hands are benumbed; I can scarcely feel,' said he, rubbing them, and blowing upon the ends of his fingers.

'Come, come,' cried young Sweepstakes, 'I'm within one inch of the mark; who'll go nearer? I shall like to see. Shoot away, Hal; but first understand our laws; we settled them before you came upon the green. You are to have three shots, with your own bow and your own arrows; and n.o.body's to borrow or lend under pretence of other's bows being better or worse, or under any pretence. Do you hear, Hal?'

This young gentleman had good reasons for being so strict in these laws, as he had observed that none of his companions had such an excellent bow as he had provided for himself. Some of the boys had forgotten to bring more than one arrow with them, and by his cunning regulation that each person should shoot with his own arrows, many had lost one or two of their shots.

'You are a lucky fellow; you have your three arrows,' said young Sweepstakes. 'Come, we can't wait whilst you rub your fingers, man--shoot away.'

Hal was rather surprised at the asperity with which his friend spoke. He little knew how easily acquaintance who call themselves friends can change when their interest comes in the slightest degree in compet.i.tion with their friendship. Hurried by his impatient rival, and with his hands so much benumbed that he could scarcely feel how to fix the arrow in the string, he drew the bow. The arrow was within a quarter of an inch of Master Sweepstakes' mark, which was the nearest that had yet been hit. Hal seized his second arrow. 'If I have any luck----' said he.

But just as he p.r.o.nounced the word _luck_, and as he bent his bow, the string broke in two, and the bow fell from his hands.

'There, it's all over with you!' cried Master Sweepstakes, with a triumphant laugh.

'Here's my bow for him, and welcome,' said Ben. 'No, no, sir,' said Master Sweepstakes, 'that is not fair; that's against the regulation.

You may shoot with your own bow, if you choose it, or you may not, just as you think proper; but you must not lend it, sir.'

It was now Ben's turn to make his trial. His first arrow was not successful. His second was exactly as near as Hal's first. 'You have but one more,' said Master Sweepstakes; 'now for it!' Ben, before he ventured his last arrow, prudently examined the string of his bow; and, as he pulled it to try its strength, it cracked. Master Sweepstakes clapped his hands, with loud exultations and insulting laughter. But his laughter ceased when our provident hero calmly drew from his pocket an excellent piece of whipcord.

'The everlasting whipcord, I declare!' exclaimed Hal, when he saw that it was the very same that had tied up the parcel. 'Yes,' said Ben, as he fastened it to his bow, 'I put it into my pocket to-day on purpose, because I thought I might happen to want it.' He drew his bow the third and last time.

'Oh, papa!' cried little Patty, as his arrow hit the mark, 'it's the nearest; is it not the nearest?'

Master Sweepstakes, with anxiety, examined the hit. There could be no doubt. Ben was victorious! The bow, the prize bow, was now delivered to him; and Hal, as he looked at the whipcord, exclaimed, 'How _lucky_ this whipcord has been to you, Ben!'

'It is _lucky_, perhaps, you mean, that he took care of it,' said Mr.

Gresham.

'Ay,' said Hal, 'very true; he might well say, "Waste not, want not." It is a good thing to have two strings to one's bow.'

OLD POZ

LUCY, _daughter to the Justice._ MRS. BUSTLE, _landlady of the 'Saracen's Head.'_ JUSTICE HEADSTRONG.

OLD MAN.

WILLIAM, _a Servant._

SCENE I

_The House of Justice Headstrong--A hall--Lucy watering some myrtles--A servant behind the scenes is heard to say--_

I tell you my master is not up. You can't see him, so go about your business, I say.

_Lucy._ To whom are you speaking, William? Who's that?

_Will._ Only an old man, miss, with a complaint for my master.

_Lucy._ Oh, then, don't send him away--don't send him away.

_Will._ But master has not had his chocolate, ma'am. He won't ever see anybody before he drinks his chocolate, you know, ma'am.

_Lucy._ But let the old man, then, come in here. Perhaps he can wait a little while. Call him.

(_Exit servant._)

(_Lucy sings, and goes on watering her myrtles; the servant shows in the Old Man._)

_Will._ You can't see my master this hour; but miss will let you stay here.

_Lucy_ (_aside_). Poor old man! how he trembles as he walks. (_Aloud._) Sit down, sit down. My father will see you soon; pray sit down.

(_He hesitates; she pushes a chair towards him._)

_Lucy._ Pray sit down.

(_He sits down._)

_Old Man._ You are very good, miss; very good.

(_Lucy goes to her myrtles again._)

_Lucy._ Ah! I'm afraid this poor myrtle is quite dead--quite dead.

(_The Old Man sighs, and she turns round._)

_Lucy_ (_aside_). I wonder what can make him sigh so! (_Aloud._) My father won't make you wait long.

_Old M._ Oh, ma'am, as long as he pleases. I'm in no haste--no haste.