Dusty Diamonds Cut and Polished Part 42

"He's either unusually jolly or unusually savage--a little more tea, mother," said Tim Lumpy, pus.h.i.+ng in his cup.

Tim, being father-and-motherless, called Mr Merryboy father and the wife mother. So did Martha, but Bobby Frog, remembering those whom he had left at home, loyally declined, though he did not object to call the elder Mrs Merryboy granny.

"Something for good or evil must have happened," said Bobby, laying down his knife and fork as the growling sound drew nearer.

At last the door flew open and the storm burst in. And we may remark that Mr Merryboy's stormy nature was, if possible, a little more obtrusive than it used to be, for whereas in former days his toes and heels did most of the rattling-thunder business, the stick now came into play as a prominent creator of din--not only when flourished by hand, but often on its own account and unexpectedly, when propped clumsily in awkward places.

"Hallo! good people all, how are 'ee? morning--morning. Boys, d'ee know that the saw-mill's come to grief?"

"No, are you in earnest, father?" cried Tim, jumping up.

"In earnest! Of course I am. Pretty engineers you are. Sawed its own bed in two, or burst itself. Don't know which, and what's more I don't care. Come, Martha, my bantam chicken, let's have a cup of tea. Bother that stick, it can't keep its legs much better than myself. How are you, mother? Glorious weather, isn't it?"

Mr Merryboy ignored deafness. He continued to speak to his mother just as though she heard him.

And she continued to nod and smile, and make-believe to hear with more demonstration of face and cap than ever. After all, her total loss of hearing made little difference, her sentiments being what Bobby Frog in his early days would have described in the words, "Wot's the hodds so long as you're 'appy?"

But Bobby had now ceased to drop or misapply his aitches--though he still had some trouble with his R's.

As he was chief engineer of the saw-mill, having turned out quite a mechanical genius, he ran down to the scene of disaster with much concern on hearing the old gentleman's report.

And, truly, when he and Tim reached the picturesque spot where, at the water's edge among fine trees and shrubs, the mill stood clearly reflected in its own dam, they found that the mischief done was considerable. The machinery, by which the frame with its log to be sawn was moved along quarter-inch by quarter-inch at each stroke, was indeed all right, but it had not been made self-regulating. The result was that, on one of the attendant workmen omitting to do his duty, the saw not only ripped off a beautiful plank from a log, but continued to cross-cut the end of the heavy framework, and then proceeded to cut the iron which held the log in its place. The result, of course, was that the iron refused to be cut, and savagely revenged itself by sc.r.a.ping off, flattening down, turning up, and otherwise damaging, the teeth of the saw!

"H'm! that comes of haste," muttered Bob, as he surveyed the wreck. "If I had taken time to make the whole affair complete before setting the mill to work, this would not have happened."

"Never mind, Bob, we must learn by experience, you know," said Tim, examining the damage done with a critical eye. "Luckily, we have a spare saw in the store."

"Run and fetch it," said Bob to the man in charge of the mill, whose carelessness had caused the damage, and who stared silently at his work with a look of horrified resignation.

When he was gone Bob and Tim threw off their coats, rolled up their sleeves to the shoulder, and set to work with a degree of prompt.i.tude and skill which proved them to be both earnest and capable workmen.

The first thing to be done was to detach the damaged saw from its frame.

"There," said Bob, as he flung it down, "you won't use your teeth again on the wrong subject for some time to come. Have we dry timber heavy enough to mend the frame, Tim?"

"Plenty--more than we want."

"Well, you go to work on it while I fix up the new saw."

To work the two went accordingly--adjusting, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g, squaring, sawing, planing, mortising, until the dinner-bell called them to the house.

"So soon!" exclaimed Bob; "dinner is a great bother when a man is very busy."

"D'ye think so, Bob? Well, now, I look on it as a great comfort-- specially when you're hungry."

"Ah! but that's because you are greedy, Tim. You always were too fond o' your grub."

"Come, Bob, no slang. You know that mother doesn't like it. By the way, talkin' of mothers, is it on Wednesday or Thursday that you expect _your_ mother?"

"Thursday, my boy," replied Bob, with a bright look. "Ha! that _will_ be a day for me!"

"So it will, Bob, I'm glad for your sake," returned Tim with a sigh, which was a very unusual expression of feeling for him. His friend at once understood its significance.

"Tim, my boy, I'm sorry for you. I wish I could split my mother in two and give you half of her."

"Yes," said Tim, somewhat absently, "it is sad to have not one soul in the world related to you."

"But there are many who care for you as much as if they were relations,"

said Bob, taking his friend's arm as they approached the house.

"Come along, come along, youngsters," shouted Mr Merryboy from the window, "the dinner's gettin' cold, and granny's gettin' in a pa.s.sion.

Look sharp. If you knew what news I have for you you'd look sharper."

"What news, sir?" asked Bob, as they sat down to a table which did not exactly "groan" with viands--it was too strong for that--but which was heavily weighted therewith.

"I won't tell you till after dinner--just to punish you for being late; besides, it might spoil your appet.i.te."

"But suspense is apt to spoil appet.i.te, father, isn't it?" said Tim, who, well accustomed to the old farmer's eccentricities, did not believe much in the news he professed to have in keeping.

"Well, then, you must just lose your appet.i.tes, for I won't tell you,"

said Mr Merryboy firmly. "It will do you good--eh! mother, won't a touch of starvation improve them, bring back the memory of old times-- eh?"

The old lady, observing that her son was addressing her, shot forth such a beam of intelligence and goodwill that it was as though a gleam of suns.h.i.+ne had burst into the room.

"I knew you'd agree with me--ha! ha! you always do, mother," cried the farmer, flinging his handkerchief at a small kitten which was sporting on the floor and went into fits of delight at the attention.

After dinner the young men were about to return to their saw-mill when Mr Merryboy called them back.

"What would you say, boys, to hear that Sir Richard Brandon, with a troop of emigrants, is going to settle somewhere in Canada?"

"I would think he'd gone mad, sir, or changed his nature," responded Bob.

"Well, as to whether he's gone mad or not I can't tell--he may have changed his nature, who knows? That's not beyond the bounds of possibility. Anyway, he is coming. I've got a letter from a friend of mine in London who says he read it in the papers. But perhaps you may learn more about it in _that_."

He tossed a letter to Bob, who eagerly seized it.

"From sister Hetty," he cried, and tore it open.

The complete unity and unanimity of this family was well ill.u.s.trated by the fact, that Bob began to read the letter aloud without asking leave and without apology.

"Dearest Bob," it ran, "you will get this letter only a mail before our arrival. I had not meant to write again, but cannot resist doing so, to give you the earliest news about it. Sir Richard has changed his mind!

You know, in my last, I told you he had helped to a.s.sist several poor families from this quarter--as well as mother and me, and Matty. He is a real friend to the poor, for he doesn't merely fling coppers and old clothes at them, but takes trouble to find out about them, and helps them in the way that seems best for each. It's all owing to that sweet Miss Di, who comes so much about here that she's almost as well-known as Giles Scott the policeman, or our missionary. By the way, Giles has been made an Inspector lately, and has got no end of medals and a silver watch, and other testimonials, for bravery in saving people from fires, and ca.n.a.ls, and cart wheels, and--he's a wonderful man is Giles, and they say his son is to be taken into the force as soon as he's old enough. He's big enough and sensible enough already, and looks twice his age. After all, if he can knock people down, and take people up, and keep order, what does it matter how young he is?

"But I'm wandering, I always do wander, Bob, when I write to you! Well, as I was saying, Sir Richard has changed his mind and has resolved to emigrate himself, with Miss Di and a whole lot of friends and work-people. He wants, as he says, to establish a colony of like-minded people, and so you may be sure that all who have fixed to go with him are followers of the Lord Jesus--and not ashamed to say so. As I had already taken our pa.s.sages in the _Amazon_ steamer--"

"The _Amazon_!" interrupted Mr Merryboy, with a shout, "why, that steamer has arrived already!"

"So it has," said Bob, becoming excited; "their letter must have been delayed, and they must have come by the same steamer that brought it; why, they'll be here immediately!"