Sir H. H. Bashford

“ Our journey through the village was slow, for Tommy's friends were numerous, and spread out over the whole social scale, from the hand-to-mouth daysman to the unctuous chemist and stationer. They included the vicar, leaning over his garden gate, in his shirt-sleeves, surrounded by implements of horticulture, and also, I regret to say, the pot-boy of the Flaming Lion—a graceless young scamp, with poacher written in every lineament of his being. ”

“ I merely protest against the ruling spirit of destruction which our country worships so deplorably. You may go."
And all this while Tommy stood bare-headed on the lawn, filling his lungs with the morning's sweetness, and feeling the grip of its appeal in his heart and blood and limbs. A sturdy little figure he was, clad in a short jacket and attenuated flannel knickerbockers which left his brown knees bare above his stockings.
The blood in his round cheeks shone red beneath the tan, and there were some freckles at the bridge of his nose. ”

“ Ah, these clouds, that are no greater than a man's hand and by reason of their very slenderness are so difficult to dispel!
The early days of August sped away happily enough, and their adventures were merely those of field, and stream, and valley, engrossing enough of the time and fraught no doubt with lessons of experience, but too trivial, I suppose, for record.
And yet I would rather write of them than of the day—the 8th of August—when the Borcombe eleven beat Camslove by many runs. ”

“ Tommy stood expectant before me, his bare feet well apart, a very embodiment of young health, and, as I looked at him, a horrid doubt crept into my mind—had I—could I possibly have become that most objectionable of persons, a man in a groove? ”

“ It is but rarely that we rise to the divine. Yet here was an opportunity, and down the steps she ran, light-footed, over the thin strip of lawn and into the deep laurels.
And it was not Tommy after all, but only the pale boy who, with commendable perspicacity, had borrowed Tommy's whistle. ”

“ O' Love along the upland road, an' God beyond the crest.
An' this should be my matin song—magic o' the down,
Mystery, an' majesty, an' wistfulness, an' hope,
I would sing the lay
O' Destiny an' Day,
As morning mounts the hill with me, an' summer storms the slope.
But this would be my vesper song—best at last is Peace
Whispered where the valleys lie, all deep in dying gold,
Stealing through the gloam
To speed the shepherd home
With one last dreamy echo o' the music in the fold. ”

“ Mollie's cheeks were scarlet, as she bent over the tea-pot, for Mrs. Cholmondeley's lower tones were as incisive as her ordinary voice was strident.
"Yes, that is my friend, Miss Gerald," said Lady Chantrey, smiling at Mollie.
Mrs. Cholmondeley continued a diatribe upon governesses.
"You never know, dear Lady Chantrey, who they may be. So many of them are so exceedingly—"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I have been very fortunate," said Lady Chantrey.
Tommy wandered up with some cake, which he offered to Mrs. Cholmondeley, who smiled graciously. ”

“ The poet held his breath.
One foot more and the prey would be lost, but Tommy stood like a young statue—then whang; and slowly the rat turned over on his back and vanished from sight, to float presently—a swollen corpse—down the quiet stream.
[Pg 29]
"Well hit, sir," cried the poet.
Tommy turned with dancing eyes.
"Jolly nearly lost him," he said. "You should just see young Collins with a catty. He's miles better than me."
But the poet had remembered himself.
"Tommy," he said, huskily, "I—I don't approve of sport of this kind. Cannot you aim at—at inanimate objects?" ”

“ But what the poet wondered was only the wonder, I suppose, of all writers of all ages, and, in any case, it was not put into words, for across the lawn came a rustle of silk and muslin, heralding visitors, and the poet became busy about tea-cups and cream.
Though physical weakness, and want of means, prevented Lady Chantrey from entertaining to any large extent, yet I doubt if any woman in the county was more really popular than this gentle hostess of Becklington Hall; for Lady Chantrey was of those who had gained the three choicest gifts of suffering—sweetness and forbearance and sympathy. ”

“ Then, suppose a man so stormed by love that by it all life has been renewed and made beautiful for him; and suppose this man so utterly and in every way unsuited to its realisation, that though all there is in him urges him to speak of it, yet he dare not lest he should lose even the cold solace of friendship. ”

“ All hands were called to the gathering, the gipsies from the hedge and the shepherd from his early fold, and the stooks were built over the stubble and drawn away into stacks, and still the skies shone cloudless and the great moons rose over the dusk. Never was such a harvest. And little we at home saw of Tommy in these days, save when, late at [Pg 161] night, he would wander back from one and another field, lean and sunburnt and glad of sleep. One day the poet tracked him to the harvesting on the down-side fields, and found him in his shirt-sleeves, stooking with the best. ”

“ Deep in the heart of every boy lies something of the gipsy, and even if, in after life, it grows sick and stifled by reason of much traffic among crowded streets, yet I doubt if it ever so far vanishes that to it the wind on the heath shall appeal in vain. Nor was the poet wrong in his prognosis, for to Tommy, at any rate, it was full of unspoken messages on this August morning. Wind on the heath—yes, it is always there, clean, and strong, and happy, lingering with [Pg 135] soft wings over furze and bracken, full of whispered melodies from the harp of God. ”

“ Only when the poet called for him and at the window I laid a hand upon his shoulder to bid him a happy day, he turned to me, impulsively:
"You are a ripper," he said.
There is no sweeter or more genuine praise than a boy's.
I watched them down the lane, and my eyes sought the downs, clear, and wide, and sunny. I thought of the tawdry inn, and [Pg 134] its associations, and prayed that Tommy might learn a lesson from the contrast.
Says Jasper the gipsy:
"Life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die?" ”

“ I suppose that, by this time, I had grown fond of Tommy, in a very real way, for, as the weeks passed by, I was quick to notice the change in the boy.
There was a suggestion of swagger and an assumption of manliness in his manner, that troubled me.
I noticed, too, that he avoided many of his old haunts.
Often he would strike out across the downs and be away from early morning until starlight, and concerning his adventures he would be strangely reticent. ”

“ The stranger smoked in silence for a little, and Tommy sat down beside him on the grass.
"I'm not one," he repeated.
"Shakespeare says we are all players in a great drama, of which the world is the stage, you know. I don't quite know if that's altogether true, but I'm pretty sure [Pg 182] that we're all of us tramps, going it with more or less zest, it is true, and in different costumes—but tramps at the last, every one of us."
Tommy looked at him with puzzled eyes.
"What a rum way of talking you have—something like the poet, only different somehow."
"The poet?"
"Down there at Camslove." ”

“ Another return came straight and hard, but Tommy stooped and held it, and the doctor dropped his bat.
"Good," I heard him say. "Stand up to 'em like a man—hurts a bit at the time—but it saves heaps of trouble in the end, and—and the other fellow doesn't score."
They were looking straight into each other's eyes, as man to man, and after a pause the doctor spoke again, in a low voice. I could not hear what he said, but Tommy's face was grave as he listened.
I sauntered on down the lane, and a few minutes later felt a hand on my arm. ”

“ We grown men regard our life in terms—a boy punctuates his, by holidays—and it is in them, that I would beg of you to influence him for good."
He turned to the poet.
"Tommy," he said, "has, I feel sure, a deeply imaginative nature, and I am by no means certain that he is not poetical. In fact, I believe he once wrote something about a star, which was really quite creditable—quite creditable."
The poet looked a little bewildered.
"And I believe that Tommy has scientific bents"—the colonel looked at the doctor, who bowed silently. ”

“ The doctor is president, and indeed the shining light of the village cricket team, and we, at Camslove, flatter ourselves that we can put up a very decent game.
So I lay aside my pen awhile and read [Pg 188] what I have written, and as I read I am glad that I am led from garden to valley, and stream, and mill, and over the common, and up the windy down.
For if a boy's will be indeed the wind's will, let it be that of the wind on the heath, which the gipsies breathe. And if the thoughts of a boy be long, long thoughts, let them be born of earth, and air, and sun. ”

“ And down the chain of water-meadows from one valley to another they wandered through the April afternoon, till the old mill-pool lay before them deep and shadowy beneath the green, wet walls. A long gleam of light lay athwart its surface, dying slowly as the sunset faded.
"It is tea-time," said Tommy.
"Poor Miss Gerald," murmured Madge.
"She's all right," replied Tommy, cheerfully. "I expect she's jolly well enjoying herself."
[Pg 52]
As I passed the poet's gate I saw him pacing the lawn, and hailed him. ”

“ Madge laughed.
"Hullo, Tommy," cried the poet.
"My dear Madge, where have you been?" cried Miss Gerald.
The poet smiled.
"It is April, Miss Gerald," he said. "We must not be too severe on the young people. As you know, this is proverbially [Pg 61] an irresponsible, changeable, witch of a month."
"We must hurry home, Madge," said Miss Gerald, holding out a graceful, though strong, hand to the poet. ”

“ II IN WHICH TWO RATS MEET A SUDDEN DEATH
"The country is just now at its freshest," said the poet, waving his hand towards the open window and the green lawn. "The world is waking again to its—er, spring holiday, Tommy, and you must be out in the air and the open fields, and share it while you may." ”

“ He jumped up, and crammed his stockings and shoes into his pockets, as they ran down the path, beside the brook.
"How did you lose it?" he asked.
"I was climbing a tree—and—and the wind blowed it off."
"Oh!"
"My governess is reading a book, about half a mile up the stream, where the poplars are."
"Oh!"
Tommy felt strangely tongue-tied—a new and wholly perplexing experience. He was relieved when they arrived at the shallows, and waded carefully into the stream. ”

“ The vicar turned to us, gravely.
"There is one thing we can all do," he said; "we ought to have thought of it first, and it is surely the best."
As we parted, the poet turned to me.
"I will take him over the downs with me to-morrow; they always appeal to Tommy, and one is never saner, or nearer to God, or more ready for repentance, than out there upon the ranges."
[Pg 132]
There was a sound of wheels down the lane, and in a minute the doctor drove by.
"Hullo," he called out, cheerily, "I have just got myself a new bat." ”

“ On the occasion of Tommy's twenty-first birthday, there were, of course, great rejoicings in Camslove, and a general gathering of the country-side to the old Grange.
Tommy, in the course of a successful, if not eloquent speech, made some extravagant remarks as to the debt he owed to his four friends, and guardians—the poet, the vicar, the doctor, and myself.
Modesty forbids their repetition, and [Pg 187] doubtless youthful enthusiasm accounted for their absurdity. ”

“ If we had not marched for the clouds, maybe we should never have achieved the little hill."
"You would have Tommy march, then, for the clouds?"
The doctor laughed.
"He is an average boy. He will do that anyway. But I would have the true light on the clouds, to which he lifts his eyes."
"Ah—if his face were set upon them now," I said half to myself.
[Pg 179]
On the road to the downs was a small figure.
"See," said my companion, "He is on the upland road. Let us take it as an omen." ”

“ I grant you all the beauty, and majesty, and truth, of your ideal, but I would no more dare to lay it before an average healthy, passionate man alone than I would to send an army into battle—with a position to take—unarmed and leaderless. ”

“ To you the idea of God is so great, so infinitely high, that the notion of personal friendship with such an One would seem to be an almost criminal impertinence, and the idea of His interference in our trivial hum-drum lives a gross profanity. ”

“ I have often felt that my youth has been left behind a little oversoon—I am getting, I fancy, a trifle stiff and narrowed. You must lead me, Tommy, into the world of action and sport—we will play games together—hide and go seek. You must buy [Pg 20] me a hoop, and we will play marbles and cricket—" and the poet smiled complacently over his spectacles. ”