The Tale of Lal Part 20

"'That bloke wot's just gone won't do nothink fer me. Can't yer suggest somethink else, Lal, somebody as I could go to as would give me some work?'

"'If you have patience,' answered Lal, 'and look around and get a few odd jobs, and a little grub for yourself and Sam every day for a little while, like the small London sparrow that you are--I beg your pardon, I should have said Skylark--I shall be able very shortly to bring our friend to a better frame of mind; at the present moment his sense of proportion is all wrong.'

"'Wot's sense of proportion, Lal?' I inquired.

"'If,' replied Lal, 'you persisted in thinking that you were as big as I am, for instance, your sense of proportion would be bad; if I imagined that I was as great as St. Martin's Church yonder, my sense of proportion would be worse.'

"'Lor' lummy, don't I jist wish I was as big as you.'

"'Why?' asked Lal.

"''Cos I'd 'ave a bit more weight to do fings wiv. There ain't no doubt that strength tells in the end.'

"Lal only chuckled at what I said, and I again went sound to sleep, as upon former occasions, in my strange roosting-place.

"The Alderman was in the habit of crossing Trafalgar Square every evening upon his way home, although I had never observed him until the night Lal had pointed him out to me; consequently, a few evenings afterwards, I first noticed how strangely he was beginning to walk. I can only describe it as a sort of zigzag from side to side, and occasionally a sort of stumble, as if he was not quite certain where he was going.

"Now I had often noticed the man who used to beat me, and from whom I had run away, walk something like that, and yet I knew at once it was not owing to the same reason, and I was rather puzzled to account for it, as the Alderman had never walked like that before, and had always been so upright and brisk.

"As the different evenings went on he grew worse and worse, until one night I found him slowly groping his way across the Square, with his hands stretched out in front of him, as if he was frightened of running into something at every step: that was the first evening I led him across the Square and over the road the other side; he seemed to dislike the idea of the steps, and always avoided them, I noticed.

"I did this for several evenings, and he never gave me anything, but as he was an old friend of Lal's I did it more for Lal's sake than for the Miser's, as I now called him; yet he seldom even thanked me for a.s.sisting him, although it was only too evident that he ought not to be walking by himself. A few days went by with nothing in particular to remember about them, until the evening arrived that was to be the turning-point in two people's lives, but at the time I knew nothing of this, for my small mind was overwhelmed with the first great childish grief of my life. I hadn't earned even one copper that day, and Sam and I had not had a crumb to eat. I think we must have both looked very thin and white. I know that Sam's bones could be seen plainer than ever through his dear, s.h.a.ggy old brown coat; but Sam never complained, he stuck to me closer than ever; n.o.body ever had a better friend than he was.

"As ill luck would have it, Sam and I were crossing the wide street where the traffic is always heaviest, before turning in at our old quarters for the night. One of the many omnibuses pa.s.sed, and somebody either dropped or threw a small bag of biscuits over the side of it; some rolled in the road, but a lot were left in the bag.

"Sam, who was the finest dog for spotting grub I have ever known, went for it like lightning; he had got it in his mouth, and was scurrying back to me in triumph with his old ears back, full of the importance of his find, when a two-horsed mail van struck him down in the road and went over him. I went in between all the maze of wheels and got him out; he was whimpering like a hurt child. I didn't wait for anything, I carried him along towards the old place by Lal; but he only gave me a lick, and died in my arms before I got there.

"I couldn't climb up to Lal with Sam in my arms, and I wouldn't leave him, so I don't know how long it was I crouched down in the shadow and cried over Sam--bitter tears I wept, I know. I was alone and utterly wretched, and Sam wouldn't ever speak to me again, would never do any more of his tricks. When I noticed that even in his death he hadn't released the bag of biscuits from his mouth, my tears flowed anew, and I couldn't somehow have touched one of them if I had been twice as hungry as I was. My grief at the death of Sam was so great that I didn't seem to want to tell Lal about it, so I lay huddled up by the corner of the pedestal where the shadow is darkest for what must have been some considerable time. Then I heard feet groping about and the voice of Alderman Gold talking.

"For a long time I didn't care to listen to what he was talking to Lal about. I heard the man say mockingly, 'Well, I suppose I'm beaten, and you have been right all the time, my old wise Lion. What cannot be endured, however, can sometimes be cured, so here's your health.'

"I heard a low angry growl from Lal, unlike any sound I had ever heard him make before, then Lal raised his paw and knocked something out of the Alderman's hand that fell with a tinkling sound of broken gla.s.s.

"I came slowly out of my corner to see what it was all about, and in time to hear Lal say, 'You fool, oh! you fool, when will your eyes ever be opened?'

"'I was going to close them for ever. What's the good of having them open _when I cannot see_?'

"The Miser seemed to be angry as well as Lal, for his voice was trembling with pa.s.sion. 'Why,' continued the Miser, 'should I remain _blind_ to please you, in order that all your prophecies may come true?

Why destroy the stuff I had bought just when I had need of it?'

"The Lion regarded the Miser steadily with those fine great eyes of his, somehow he seemed to look the Miser right through; then the Lion sniffed thrice, very contemptuously.

"'Do you know _why_ you are blind?' he asked the Miser.

"'No,' answered the man, 'to be going blind is terrible enough without asking the reason of it; what matter what this or that theory may be, when the thing is there to speak for itself? I know I cannot see, and that being the case my life is finished.'

"'Or perhaps beginning,' ventured the Lion contemplatively. 'You cannot see, Alderman Gold, because your eyes are filled with the colour of the thing you have made your G.o.d all through your life; it is the gold dust that has blinded you. The dazzling golden h.o.a.rd you desired through life, watched, kept, gloated over. This love that tinged all your life and thoughts and feelings has poisoned you, has permeated with its fatal colour everything so that you cannot any longer see the beauty of the blue sky, the ripple of the moving waters, the tender bloom of blossoming flowers and trees. Remove the terrible gold-dust from your eyes that you have wors.h.i.+pped and you will see again, perhaps better than you have ever really seen before.'

"'Cease! cease!' broke in the Miser; 'you are only mocking my misery now, and even if what you say is true, it is too late now to help me.'

"'Not too late,' returned the Lion, more gently, I thought, than he had spoken hitherto; 'just in time, I think, just in time.' Then he called me. 'Skylark,' said the Lion, 'come here.'

"I came out from my hiding-place, still hugging the body of poor Sam close to me. The Miser peered at me curiously, though he couldn't see me very well, or what I was holding, judging from the expression of his face.

"'I suppose,' said the Miser, 'this is the ragged little wretch who is always hanging about here.'

"'He is very ragged now,' said the Lion patiently, 'but he will be very great one day.'

"The Miser laughed his harsh, unpleasant laugh, and peered down to see what I was carrying so carefully, then he put out his hand and touched Sam's coat.

"I pushed his hand away with my own dirty and grubby paw, but in a very determined way.

"'Don't yer touch 'im,' I cried.

"'It's a dog,' said the Miser, 'and it's dead; a dead dog isn't of much use to any one,' and he laughed again. I felt when he laughed that my blood was boiling.

"'Look 'ere, if 'ee's dead, 'ee's gone straight to 'Eaven, which is 'is proper place, an' where 'e'll 'ave fields an' the country and rabbits to chase, an' all them fings wot 'e ought ter 'ave 'ad in his life 'ere, an' 'e'll a wait fer me there sure as 'e always waited fer me 'ere, an' don't you say nothink agin Sam, 'cos in 'is life 'e was a d.a.m.ned sight better than wot you are, so there.'

"By this time my outraged feelings had so overcome me that I was shouting at the Miser, who stood stock still saying nothing, for the suddenness, to say nothing of the impudence, of my attack seemed to have rendered him speechless.

"'Steady, Skylark, steady,' said the Lion; 'try and behave a little more respectfully, and cease to use that distressing street language;'

then Lal added by way of an afterthought, 'Come, climb up here, I want to talk to you.'

"I laid Sam down for the first time and complied with his request.

"'Now,' said Lal, 'what shall I do with Alderman Simon Gold?'

"''Im?' I asked, pointing to the Miser.

"'Precisely.'

"'Well, can't yer jist blow that there gold dust out of 'is eyes wot seems to be a-choking of 'em as you sed 'e 'ad? You can do most fings, Lal; 'ave a go, and see if 'e don't get better.'

"The Lion smiled his very wisest smile, then he asked me, 'Little Skylark, what have you got round your neck?'

"'Only rags, Lal, but I can't 'elp them, you knows that.'

"'Look again, little Skylark.'

"'Lor lummy,' I said, 'wot is it?' for I was startled by the unexpectedness of the thing I saw. Something seemed hanging round my neck that glowed and glistened and sparkled like ever so many jewels.

The sort of gems that had made me wink my eyes whenever I had seen them in the shop-windows.

"'Lal, wot is it? 'ow did it get there?'

"'It is the Order of Imagination,' said Lal solemnly, 'and oh! little Skylark, there are only a few, such a few in the world who have ever worn it, even for a few minutes. You will think of this some day, you will remember my words always. Take it off your neck, Skylark, and put it over the neck of Alderman Simon Gold for an instant, for he is only just worthy to wear it. Look, there are two tears in his eyes, tears of pity, the first he has ever shed in his life, and tears of pity, little Skylark, are the keys that open the Golden Gates of Heaven.'

"I did as Lal bid me, and I shall never forget. Simon Gold's face became radiant.

"'I can see,' he gasped, 'can see! Oh, Lal, what a brute I have been!