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Brownsmith's Boy Part 17

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I was disgusted and half nauseated, but I could not help noticing that the cooked snail did not smell badly, and that instead of being the wet, foaming, slimy thing I was accustomed to see, it looked dried up and firm.

At last, with a horrified look at the young savage, I exclaimed:

"Do you know those are snails?"

"Yes. Have one?"

He answered quite sharply, and I took a step back, for I had not had my breakfast. I was rather disposed to be faint from the effects of my last night's accident, and the sight of what was going on made me ready to flee, for all at once, after letting his dirty fingers hover for a few moments over the hot stone, he picked up the largest snail, blew it as he threw it from hand to hand because it was hot, and ended by holding it out to me with:

"Got a big pin?"

I shrank away from him with my lip curling, and I uttered a peculiar "Ugh!"

"All right!" he said gruffly. "They're stunning."

To prove his a.s.sertion he went on eating rapidly without paying any further heed to me, throwing the sh.e.l.ls over his head, and ending by s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the paper up tightly that contained the salt.

Then he sprang up and faced me; took two or three steps in my direction, and made a spring as if to jump right on to me.

Naturally enough I gave way, and he darted out of the shed and dashed down between two rows of trees, to be out of sight directly, for I did not give chase.

"He can talk," I said to myself as I went on down the garden thinking of the snails, and that Shock was something like the wild boy of whom I had once read.

But soon the various objects in the great garden made me forget Shock, for the men were at work, hoeing, digging, and planting, and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable and to think that Old Brownsmith would be annoyed if he found me idle, when he came down one of the walks, followed by his cats, and laid his hand upon my shoulder.

"Better?" he said abruptly. "That's right. What you're to do? Oh wait a bit, we'll see! Get used to the place first."

He gave me a short nod, and began pointing out different tasks that he wished his men to carry out, while I watched attentively, feeling as if I should like to run off and look at the ripening fruit, but not caring to go away, for fear Mr Brownsmith might want me.

One thing was quite evident, and that was that the cats were disposed to be very friendly. They did not take any notice of the men, but one after the other came and had a rub up against my leg, purring softly, and looking up at me with their slits of eyes closed up in the bright suns.h.i.+ne, till all at once Old Brownsmith laid his hand upon my shoulder again, and said one word:

"Breakfast!"

I walked with him up to the house, and noticed that instead of following us in, the cats ran up a flight of steps into a narrow loft which seemed to be their home, two of them seating themselves at once in the doorway to blink at the suns.h.i.+ne.

"Like cats?" said the old gentleman.

"Oh yes!" I said.

"Ah! I see you've made friends."

"Yes, I replied; but I haven't made friends with that boy Shock."

"Well, that does not matter," said Old Brownsmith. "Come, sit down; bread and milk morning."

I sat down opposite to him, to find that a big basin of bread and milk stood before each of us, and at which, after a short grace, Old Brownsmith at once began.

I hesitated for a moment, feeling a little awkward and strange, but I was soon after as busy as he.

"Not going to be ill, I see," he said suddenly. "You must be on the look-out another time. Accident--Ike didn't mean it."

I was going to say I was sure of that, when he went on:

"So you haven't made friends with Shock?"

"No, sir."

"Well, don't."

"I will not if you don't wish it, sir," I said eagerly.

"Be kind to him, and keep him in his place. Hasn't been rough to you, has he?"

"Oh no!" I said. "He only seems disposed to play tricks."

"Yes, like a monkey. Rum fellow, isn't he?"

"Yes, sir. He isn't--"

"Bit of an idiot, eh? Oh no! he's sharp enough. I let him do as he likes for the present. Awkward boy to manage."

"Is he, sir?"

"Yes, my lad. Ike found him under the horses' hoofs one night, going up to market. Little fellow had crawled out into the road. Left in the ditch by some one or another. Ike put him in a half-sieve basket with some hay, and fixed him in with some sticks same as we cover fruit, and he curled up and went to sleep till Ike brought him in to me in the yard."

"But where were his father and mother?" I cried.

"Who knows!" said Old Brownsmith, poking at a bit of brown crust in his basin of milk. "Ike brought him to me grinning, and he said, 'Here's another cat for you, master.'

"I was very angry," said the old gentleman after a pause; "but just then the little fellow--he was about a year old--put his head up through the wooden bars and looked at me, and I told one of the women to give him something to eat. After that I sent him to the workhouse, where they took care of him, and one day when he got bigger I gave him a treat, and had him here for a day's holiday. Then after a twelvemonth, I gave him another holiday, and I should have given him two a year, only he was such a young rascal. The workhouse master said he could do nothing with him. He couldn't make him learn anything--even his letters. The only thing he would do well was work in the garden."

"Same as he does now, sir?" I said, for I was deeply interested.

"Same as he does now," a.s.sented Old Brownsmith. "Then one day after I had given him his treat, I suppose when he was about ten years old, I found him in the garden. He had run away from the workhouse school."

"And did he stay here, sir?"

"No, I sent him back, Grant, and he ran away again. I sent him back once more, but he came back; and at last I got to be tired of it, for the more I sent him back the more he came."

The old gentleman chuckled and finished his bread and milk, while I waited to hear more.

"I say I got tired of it at last, for I knew they flogged and locked up the boy, and kept him on bread and water; but it did him no good; he would run away. He used to come here, through the gate if it was open, over the wall when it was shut, and he never said a word, only hung about like a dog.

"I talked to him, coaxed him, and told him that if he would be a good lad, and learn, I would have him to work some day, and he stared at me just as if he were some dumb animal, and when I had done and sent him off, what do you think happened, Grant?"

"He came back again, sir."

"Yes: came back again as soon as he could get away, and at last, being a very foolish sort of old man, I let him stop, and he has been here ever since."

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Brownsmith's Boy Part 17 summary

You're reading Brownsmith's Boy. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): George Manville Fenn. Already has 760 views.

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