-f >^ 
 
 fc>/J 
 
 EB 
 
 
 . EILOART 
 
 y • 
 
 tfe. 
 
 (Knickerbocker 
 
 Se 
 
UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 


THE BOY WITH AN IDEA 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/boywithideaeilo 
 
THE 
 
 Boy with an Idea 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. EILOART 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE BOYS OP BKECHWOOD," " TOM DUSTAn's TROUBLES," ETC. 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 
 Zbc fmtc&erbocker press 
 1902 
 

CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ntroducks the reader to a young gentleman with 
 a Singularly Good Opinion of Himself . . 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 A New Way of Bringing Pigs Home from Market . 17 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 How to make Old Boots Better than New. — Show- 
 ing, TOO, THAT IT IS NOT SO EASY TO STAND ON 
 
 One's Dignity when One has Little Besides to 
 Stand on 35 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 The Great-Grandmother's Spell. — How Mr. Tagart 
 found his Boots an Exceedingly Tight Fit . 51 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 How John's New " Mixture " turns out a Better 
 Thing than he had Expected . . . .60 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 John's " Rational Investment " of Half-a-Crown.— 
 How to Board a Calf 76 
 
 JL/ JLX. 
 
6 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PASS 
 
 How the Calf Astonished Several People, and 
 Martha Astonished Them Still More . . 91 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 How John was Sent to School for his Good. — He 
 Opens His Mouth, and Makes a Great Many 
 People Open Their Eyes 99 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 How John Got On at School. — He does Not Find 
 the Boys Quite as Sensible as he Expected they 
 would be. — An Old Couple and an Old Book . 114 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 A Joint-Stock Concern. — How John Sets his Pot 
 Boiling 123 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 What Teddy Found in the Iron Chest, and What 
 he Brought Back in the Wooden Box. — How 
 John's Pot Boiled Over 139 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 The Doctor Finds he has a Troublesome Pupil. — 
 John is Disgusted with the Ingratitude of his 
 Friends 146 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 A New Way of Angling. — How, in Trying to Catch 
 
 a Duck, John Made a Goose of Himself . .154 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 A Sensation at School. — A Scolding for Teddy 
 Hook, and another Moonlight Search by the 
 Doctor 164 
 
CONTENTS. 7 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 John has a Long Drive, but Not a Pleasant one. — 
 He Makes His Appearance in a New Character 
 at " The Three Magpies." 168 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 John Makes Acquaintance with the Gypsies, and is 
 
 Charmed with their Reception of him . . 175 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 John's New Theory about Animals. — How He Met 
 wtth a Monkey that Seemed Untamable . . /86 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 How John Tried to Catch a Weasel Asleep, and 
 Martha Caught Him. — An Unpleasant Bedfel- 
 low 199 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 How a Bear Finds Himself in Bad Company, and 
 
 the Village is Scared out of its Propriety . 206 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 A New Field of Action for John. — His First Im- 
 pressions OF WOODHURST . . . . .2 24 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 John Meets an Old Friend. — How between them 
 
 They Astonish the Natives 233 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 John Walks over to Fellrow, and Unfolds his Last 
 
 " Idea " to Ted . 250 
 
8 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 FAGB 
 
 John Matures His Scheme. — How the Coal-Holk 
 has a Cooling Effect upon Ted . . . 265 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 How John and Ted were Electrified instead ok 
 Electrifying 271; 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 How John Missed his Footing and Found his Senses 287 
 
THE BOY WITH AN IDEA 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCES THE READER TO A YOUNG GENTLEMAN WITB 
 A SINGULARLY GOOD OPINION OF HIMSELF. 
 
 T SHOULD have liked you to have known him! He 
 ■*• was a nice boy, very ! You would have said so if you 
 had had the pleasure of his acquaintance, particularly if 
 you were of a quiet turn of mind, liked everything to go on 
 in regular jog-trot style, hated new notions, and detested 
 being disturbed in your old-fashioned ways and ideas ; for, 
 whatever your own opinion on any particular subject might 
 be, and whatever grounds you might have for believing it 
 as a correct one, and based on as sound and satisfactory 
 reasons as any opinion could possibly be, he would very 
 coolly attempt to confute it with some crotchet of his own, 
 lolding forth some newfangled way o' doing a thing that 
 ever)- one knew had been done in quite a different mannei 
 f or perhaps a hundred years past, letting you see plainl) 
 
IO THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 that he thought no method could be so good as his own 
 looking all the time as wise as if he were Solomon himself, 
 and I really believe thinking himself a great deal wiser; 
 and, whatever the subject might be, generally opening his 
 own views upon it with a pet expression of his, " I've got 
 an idea ! " 
 
 His name was John Ashdell. John ! — it's a goc d, solid, 
 steady-sounding old English name. You would not expect 
 it to belong to a lad who was full of the flightiest, wildest, 
 most out-of-the-way notions that ever entered the head of 
 a boy, or man either. John ! — every letter seems full of 
 common sense, and thorough-going, straightforward prac- 
 tical ways ; but there was not much common sense about 
 John ; indeed, I think he would have rather disdained such 
 an ordinary, every-day quality ; and, as to anything prac- 
 tical, if once you had attempted to carry one of John's ideas 
 into execution, you would have known better than to have 
 expected anything of the sort from him. But I don't want 
 you to think that he was a bad boy, or an idle one either ; 
 and certainly he had no want of brains. He was thorough- 
 ly kind-hearted and good-tempered, and, so far from being 
 lazy, if he had taken half the pains to do things in the ordi- 
 nary ways that were good enough for other people, that he 
 did to try and do them in some newfangled manner of his 
 own, he would have accomplished more work than half the 
 boys of his age ; while as to abilities, he had plenty of 
 them, almost too many, only he never seemed to know 
 how to put them to a good use, letting his imagination run 
 
INTRODUCES THE READER. \\ 
 
 away with him, in fact, and lead him to do all sorts of al> 
 surd and ridiculous things, just because he considered he 
 was much too clever to do anything like anybody else. 
 
 I am afraid John's mother spoiled him, as mothers do 
 spoil their boys at times, especially when they've only one, 
 and he is bright and clever, and nice-looking, and very like 
 his father, dead and gone years past; and John was all 
 this, so perhaps it is not much to be wondered at if Mrs. 
 Ashdell let him have his own way, and follow out his own 
 ideas, a great deal more than was desirable either for her- 
 self or for him. She was not the only one who spoiled him 
 though ; his grandmother was always ready to help when - 
 ever she had an opportunity ; and, though Master John's 
 whims had given them both so much trouble, he had such 
 a wonderful flow of words, such astonishing boldness of 
 conception, and such promptitude in carrying out his 
 schemes, that I really think they both believed him to be 
 the cleverest boy in the world. 
 
 John and his mother resided in a pretty village about 
 ten miles from London. Mrs. Ashdell's cottage was one 
 of a few nice, cosy little places, just large enough for com- 
 fort, and not large enough for show, with climbing plants 
 over their porches and verandas, and bright, trim flower- 
 gardens before them, that faced the highroad to London. 
 The cosiest and brightest of all, was Mrs. Ashdell's. She 
 was very fond of flowers, and even in spite of all John's 
 " ideas " on the subject, reared some very beautiful ones. 
 How she would have succeeded, if it had not been for old 
 
12 THE BCY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 Tillsen the gardener's great persistence in turning a deal 
 ear to all John's theories about horticulture, is doubtful, 
 for he certainly had very peculiar notions of his own on the 
 subject ; but Tillsen never heeded them. He had been 
 the gardener-in-chief to all the better-class houses, whose 
 owners did not keep gardeners of their own, for years past, 
 and was quite in the right in considering he knew his own 
 business a great deal too well for John to teach it to him 
 John's grandmother lived about half-a-mile off, and, when- 
 ever he could find nobody else to listen to the details of 
 his last new scheme, he would run off to her ; for the old 
 lady's belief in him was unbounded, and her patience with 
 his failures untiring. She took his part stoutly against 
 Uncle George, who by no means thought John so great a 
 genius as he was in his own eyes, and who seldom missed 
 an opportunity of telling him as much. 
 
 Uncle George lived in a pleasant, roomy house at the 
 end of the village, with his wife and half-a-dozen children. 
 He was a builder, carpenter, etc., and very comfortably off, 
 wifth a thriving business, which gave him plenty to do. 
 There was a nice, bright, well-kept bit of flower-garden 
 before his house, a large piece for vegetables at the back, 
 and beyond, a small orchard. On one side of the house 
 was a paddock, where the two horses required in the busi- 
 ness grazed in company with the one cow that supplied the 
 family with milk and butter, and on the other was the 
 building-yard with a large work-shed at one side of it, 
 where, when Uncle George was not in the way to superin- 
 
IN1R0DUCES THE READER. 13 
 
 tend matters, his place was supplied by his head man, 
 Timothy Gibson, or, as he was sometimes called — half in 
 fun perhaps, because of a certain failing of his which caused 
 him to be at times by no means a reliable person — " Trusty 
 Tim." Trusty Tim was a good-natured, hard-working 
 fellow, and had long been his master's right hand and 
 factotum, but, unhappily, he had a weakness for strong ale, 
 which at times overcame him, and caused him to forget the 
 discretion which, generally speaking, was his predominant 
 characteristic. John was rather partial to Trusty Tim. 
 He would drop into the shed, and if Tim had time to listen, 
 or was occupied by a job that allowed him to give some of 
 his attention to him, he would be delighted to hear John 
 unfold some of his " ideas " upon things in general, and 
 carpentering and building in particular. I don't know 
 whether he was ever led away sufficiently by his veneration 
 for John to carry out any of his notions ; at any rate he 
 never did so with his master's materials ; but his faith in 
 the boy was almost as great as his grandmother's. 
 
 Uncle George's children had a fine time of it, as 
 healthy, hearty, country children mostly have. They ran 
 about in the timber-yard and the paddock, picked up apples 
 in the orchard, went nutting and blackberrying in due 
 season, rode the horses without saddles, and joked with 
 Trusty Tim, who made them toys out of odd bits of wood* 
 put up wonderful swings for them, and told them tales of 
 the time when he was a youngster himself. But the) liked 
 oest being with Cousin John. He was thoroughb good- 
 
14 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 natured, especially with children, and, when they were all 
 tired of play, would amuse them for hours by telling them 
 of the extraordinary things he intended doing when he was 
 a man, or how much better everything in this world would 
 be if people would only follow out his notions, and arrange 
 matters accordingly. They were too young to help him 
 carry out his projects, for John was fourteen, and his eldest 
 cousin full three years younger, while the family group 
 terminated in a baby in arms. If John could have had his 
 own way, he would have made experiments with this baby, 
 and he actually went to the length of proposing some to 
 Lucy, the nurse, a good-tempered buxom girl, who, accord- 
 ing to him, had no more notion of handling an infant than 
 anybody else. To hear John talk, you would have won- 
 dered how ever babies had been reared at all. He would 
 have it that people were as ignorant of the art of nursing 
 as of everything else. Lucy used to listen and laugh, and 
 cry, " Lor, Master John ! " when he said anything particu- 
 larly outrageous, but she held her baby tight, and took 
 good care never to let John get hold of it for an instant, for 
 fear he should make some experiment upon it. It was 
 just the same with his aunt's cook — his mother's old 
 servant was a great deal too obstinate and self-willed, 
 according to John, ever to listen to reason, but his aunt's 
 Hannah was a person of an easier disposition ; fat, round, 
 pleasant, and good-tempered ; and John liked above all 
 things to expound to her how apple-dumplings should be 
 made, and meat should be roasted ; and, though Hannah 
 
INTRODUCES THE READER. 1 5 
 
 had never as yet let him carry out any of his theories, John 
 considered he had some reason to hope that in time she 
 would feel how much wiser he was in culinary matters than 
 all the cookery-books that ever were written, from " the 
 way to cook apples" to " Francatelli's Guide." 
 
 It was just the same with everything else. There was 
 not a blacksmith, according to John, that knew how to 
 shoe a horse properly ; and his favorite lounge out of 
 school-hours was the forge in the village, where he would 
 find fault with everything that was going on, and be 
 perpetually offering his assistance and advice to have 
 matters carried on better. Reade, the blacksmith, was a 
 solid, grave fellow, but he bore pretty well with the boy, 
 for John was so thoroughly well meaning, and so perfectly 
 convinced that he was doing every one the greatest kind- 
 ness possible in favoring them with his " ideas," that it was 
 not very easy to be angry with him. Besides, dry and 
 sober as Reade seemed, he liked a joke, and John could 
 always put up with one at his own expense, even when, in 
 apparently permitting him to carry out his schemes, it took 
 rather a practical form. Reade would often pause be- 
 tween the sounds of his anvil to listen to the boy's chatter, 
 and a curious twinkle would come into his deep black eyes, 
 and something as near like a smile as any one ever saw, 
 flicker across his thin dark face. There were plenty of 
 others to whom John was very fond of chattering and 
 opening his mind, and altogether, with all his whims and 
 vagaries, he was tolerably popular in the village, there 
 
1 6 THE BOY WITH A 1ST IDEA. 
 
 being only one person in it unkind enough, according to 
 his mother, and ridiculous enough, according to John, to 
 say in plain, outspoken words, that the boy's head was 
 "being turned with conceit, and that he wanted sending 
 to a good strict boarding-school to have the nonsense 
 taken out of him." 
 
 And this person was John's Uncle George, who had 
 no patience whatever with his nephew's crochets, and, as I 
 said before, lost no opportunity of ridiculing both them 
 and him. However, this did not trouble John very much 
 He was supremely happy in the conviction that he was one 
 of the cleverest fellows in existence, and was endeavoring 
 to impress everybody about him with the same conviction, 
 benevolently favoring them with his advice on whatever 
 subject might arise; always with the most unbounded con- 
 fidence, and the most implicit belief in himself and his 
 own powers, dashing into the conversation with all sorts of 
 pet theories and wild fancies of his own, and opening them 
 all with his perpetual expression, " I've got an idea ! " 
 
 I mean to tell you about some of his "ideas," and 
 what they led him into. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 A NEW WAY OF BRINGING PIGS HOME FROM MARKET, 
 
 . TNCLE GEORGE was in the habit of fattening his 
 ^— own pigs ; and a very good habit, too, as everv 
 one knows, if you want your pork and bacon to be of 
 really first-rate quality. He generally bought them young, 
 and after a while handed them over to the care of Trusty 
 Tim, who, by a judicious diet of toppings, barley-meal, 
 and potatoes, generally succeeded in turning out pigs that 
 would have been considered quite worthy of a place in 
 any cattle-show. For Trusty Tim did a good deal about 
 the place that by no means came under the head of his 
 duties as foreman in the building-yard. If it had not 
 been for that one failing of his to which I have alluded, he 
 would have been invaluable to his master, and, as it was, in 
 many matters he was Uncle George's right hand. One of 
 his numerous employments, which required both skill and 
 honesty, was to select and purchase the pigs for fattening 
 at Old Cross Market. 
 
 He was about to start one morning on this very errand 
 having, besides, to execute some commissions for his mas- 
 
1 8 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 ter in the town, and Uncle George was giving him his 
 final directions, when John stepped into the building-yard, 
 and heard what errand Tim was being dispatched upon : 
 " You may buy a store-pig, fit to put up at once, Tim, in 
 place of the one we're going to kill next week; or if you 
 should see a sow with a thriving litter of young ones, I 
 wouldn't mind that instead. I've had some thought of 
 raising my own, but be sure the sow is young, and of a 
 good sort, and the litter likely to fatten well." 
 
 " All right, Uncle !" cried John, who was always in to a 
 great a hurry to speak himself to let any one else finish 
 what they had to say ; " only let me go with Tim, and I'll 
 take care he don't make any blunders as to what sort of 
 pigs he brings. Tim's all very well, but I don't think he 
 knows the points of a pig. You should go more by the 
 mouth, I say, just as you do in a horse. Just see what sort 
 of teeth he has ; that'll tell you if he'll eat well ; and the 
 shape of his mouth's a very good sign as to whether he'll 
 grow fat upon it. That's my idea, so I wish you'd let me 
 go with Tim. It's a holiday at school to-day — master's 
 birthday — and I'll take care Tim brings you home as good 
 a pig as ever you set eyes on." 
 
 " You'll teach Tim how to choose a pig, will you ? " 
 said Uncle George, dryly ; " anything else, young man ? 
 I should like to know what there is you couldn't do better 
 than anybody besides. Now, don't you think you could 
 preach a better sermon than the parson ? " 
 
 ;< Weil, I've got an idea that I could," replied John, 
 
BRINGING PIGS FROM MARKET. 19 
 
 coolly. " I don't think his are first-rate, by any means. I 
 only wish he'd let me get into the pulpit and try." 
 
 " Anything else, Master Modest ? " said Uncle George 
 " Well, it's useless to stand talking here. Tim, my man, 
 there's the money, and don't go near the ' Blue Boar,' nor 
 any other place of the sort ; or, if you do, just stop at the 
 first pint, you understand, if you want to bring the pigs 
 home safely." 
 
 " Oh, let me go with him, Uncle George," pleaded 
 John, "and I'll answer for it the pigs will come home all 
 right then." 
 
 " Let the boy go, master," urged Tim ; " he's capital 
 company on the road." 
 
 Thus urged, Uncle George consented, laying strict 
 Injunctions upon Tim not to trust John with the reins, for 
 fear he should carry out any newfangled notions about 
 driving, and not to be guided by any of his ideas in buying 
 the pigs. Tim promised faithfully to bear these injunc- 
 tions in mind, and then John and he started off together. 
 
 It was a lovely November morning. The mist that, 
 earlier, had hung around, cleared off, and the sun was shin- 
 ing brightly on the red and yellow leaves that strewed the 
 ground, and those that with a faded greenness still be- 
 decked the trees. Old Cross was four miles off, and the 
 road to it lay through pleasant lanes, with here and there a 
 tiny hamlet by the side, or a substantial farmhouse, looking 
 so solidly comfortable, and homelike, and homely, as noth- 
 ing but a well-kept English farmhouse can. Sometimes 
 
20 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 the trees met overhead ; and then a leaf would come slowly 
 flickering down into the cart, and John would stop in the 
 midst of his chatter to admire the beauty of its autumnal 
 coloring. Then they would pass a group of children going 
 to school, some of the boldest of whom would try to out- 
 run the cart, and John would pelt them with chestnuts, or 
 set them scrambling for a rosy apple, and then begin telling 
 Tim how children should be taught if he had his way, and 
 the present generation of schoolmasters and schoomis- 
 tresses be sent about their business, or made to go to 
 school themselves to learn their trade properly. Tim was 
 a capital listener ; it was no wonder John was so fond of 
 his company ; but for all that he would not allow John to 
 take the reins, remembering his master's orders, and hav- 
 ing a dim idea of his own that though Master John was a 
 very fine fellow, he was much too clever at talking to be 
 very clever at anything else. 
 
 They were some time in reaching Old Cross, for Tim 
 had frequently to turn off the direct road to leave a mes- 
 sage for his master, and once had to stop to execute a 
 little job for him — which was mending a gate at one of the 
 farmhouses, during which John of course could not be 
 content with minding the horse, but must be giving Tim 
 his advice the whole of the time. All this caused them 
 not to reach Old Cross till eleven o'clock, when the 
 market was full, and intending purchasers were busy sur- 
 veying the stock. Tim put up his horse at the " Red 
 Lion," saying, " Master told me to keep clear of the ' Blue 
 
BRINGING FIGS FROM MARKET. 21 
 
 Boar,' and their ale is rather thick, and gets to the head 
 uncommon quick ; but that's no reason I shouldn't have a 
 quiet pint here, for I'm terribly thirsty with the drive, and 
 shall be able to talk all the better if I moisten my throat, 
 and some of those farmers want a deal of persuading be- 
 fore they can be brought to see things in a right light, and 
 let you have an animal at a proper price." 
 
 John did not care for ale, but he went to a stall in the 
 market and solaced himself with some brandysnaps and 
 gingerbread nuts, having first given Tim the money to pro- 
 cure some ale, thinking it the least he could do to evince his 
 sense of Tim's good fellowship on their road to Old Cross. 
 Then he strolled about the market, and gave one or two of 
 the old women who had fowls to sell his " ideas" as to the 
 best mode of fattening them ; I think the diet he recom- 
 mended was cod-liver oil and arrowroot, which he assured 
 the good ladies they would find, if they thoroughly followed 
 it out, would make their fowls grow to the size of turkeys, 
 instead of being the poor little things they were. Then he 
 looked about for a pig, and presently pointed out a lean, 
 long-nosed creature, with legs that all the barley-meal in 
 the world would never have made into respectable hams, 
 and said to Tim — 
 
 ''That's your sort. Look at her. She's the one to 
 fatten. Got a litter with her, too, just like the mother. 
 Now, Tom, if you'll take my advice, you'll buy her at any 
 price. I've examined her mouth, and the way she'll eat 
 would astonish you. Why she'll lay on fat like fun, ODce 
 
22 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 you give her the right sort of stuff to do it with ; so will 
 the young ones. Now you see if they don't." 
 
 " Never saw any of that sort that did," replied Tim, 
 gravely. " No, no, Master John, I daren't take her home 
 in the cart. It wants another sort to please the master , 
 there's the one I have in my mind's eye, but my throat'll be 
 as dry as dust on a July day before I get her at the price I 
 mean to give. He's a tight hand at a bargain, her master." 
 
 Tim walked off in the direction of the pig he coveted, 
 and John sauntered about the market. Presently he saw a 
 boy about thirteen, with an open merry face and fair wavy 
 hair, standing at a stall where hot sausages were sold fresh 
 from the frying-pan. He was devouring these dainties with 
 an astonishing relish ; they were hot, savory, and well- 
 seasoned, and it evidently mattered very little to him of 
 what they might be composed. 
 
 "What a bit of luck," thought John, "here's Bob tuck- 
 ing into the sausages like winkey. I'll go and have some, 
 too, and ask him how he came here." 
 
 Bob was quite as much pleased to see John as John was 
 to see him. They were cousins, and both equally related 
 to Uncle George. Bob gave John, in the interval of saus- 
 age-eating, the required information as to how and why he 
 was in the market-place. He had walked over from St 
 Roland's, six miles off, where he lived, and expected to find 
 Tim in the market, who was to take him to Uncle George's, 
 it having been settled that he was to stay there for a short 
 time. 
 
BRINGING PIGS FROM MARKET. 23 
 
 " For I've a bad cold, John, and mother thinks it's the 
 Dverwork at school that's done it — though I don't know 
 myself but what trying who could hop longest in the play- 
 ground, without either shoes or stockings, has had some- 
 thing to do with it — so she thought a little change would do 
 me good, and set me up for the winter. It's a jolly go, 
 meeting you here, and Uncle George's isn't a bad place to 
 be at ; you and I will have a lark or two before I go back. 
 We'll coax old Tim to let us take it in turns to drive home, 
 and I've got a pea-shooter for the one that isn't driving." 
 
 " Ah, that won't do," replied John mournfully ; " Tim's 
 a good soul, but Uncle George has always got some ridicu- 
 lous notion or other about me, and now he's taken it into 
 his head that I can't drive, and charged Tim not to let me 
 have the reins, and I did want to teach him a new way I'd 
 got of holding in a horse. Never mind, if we've luck, per- 
 haps Tim will let us, for to-day he is extra good-natured. 
 Let's hope he will. I say, here he comes with his pigs — 
 eight young ones, I declare. Well, that's not the sort 1 
 should have bought, but I suppose Tim knows what will 
 please Uncle George." 
 
 Tim had had, as he anticipated, much difficulty in get 
 ting the pigs at his price : in fact the miller and he could 
 not come to any terms at all till they had gone to the bar 
 of the "Red Lion," where a great deal of the strongest ale 
 dispensed there, helped them to come to a settlement. In 
 consequence of this, Tim was in a fair way to realize John'3 
 wishes, for he was unfortunately nearly tipsy, and, having a 
 
24 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 dim consciousness of the fact, he assumed an additional 
 gravity and dignity of demeanor, in the vain hope of hiding 
 from John's eyes his real condition. 
 
 " It's all right," John whispered to Bob with a chuckle ; 
 "he can't drive long, and if he should only take a little 
 more, we might do as we liked with the horse or the 
 pigs either. We'll get him to drive round by Brierley 
 Common." 
 
 Now Brierley Common was by no means the nearest 
 way to Uncle George's house at Shedley, but there was a 
 cozy little place there, kept by a pleasant, good-tempered 
 widow, who sold capital ale and cider, and for whom it was 
 suspected Tim had something more than a friendly feeling 
 At any rate he was always ready, whenever his business 
 led him in that direction, to stop and have a pint of ale at 
 " The Chequers," and the boys, when they were in the cart, 
 had no great difficulty in persuading him to return home 
 that way. They had rather a squeeze of it, for of course 
 the sow and her litter had to be made room for, and the 
 cart was not a large one ; and, besides, they had two sacks 
 of potatoes to carry as well ; so with pigs, potatoes, the two 
 boys, and Tim, there was as much as the cart would hold ; 
 still they found room for all, and started off, John in high 
 spirits at the thought that, after passing Brierley Common, 
 he should be able to get the reins in his own hands, and 
 show his cousin some of his "ideas" about driving. 
 
 Mrs. Dale stood at her door as they drove up to " The 
 Chequers," and accosted them with a pleasant smile and 
 
BRINGING PIGS FROM MARKET. 25 
 
 friendly "Good-day;" Tim, of course, could not be less 
 civil to her ; then he alighted, and took a glass, perhaps 
 two ; at any rate he was quite long enough inside " The 
 Chequers " to do so, while John was telling Bob how, if 
 once he got the reins, he would give the horse his head in 
 fine style, and set him galloping like a wild Arab of the 
 desert. But though Tim, when he emerged from Mrs. 
 Dale's residence, was very far from being as sober as a 
 judge, he still remembered his promise to his master, and 
 kept tight hold of the reins, even while drowsily nodding in 
 his seat to such an extent that Bob began to feel afraid he 
 would fall off. At last the ale he had drank proved itself 
 too much for Tim, his head sunk heavily on his breast, and 
 he began to snore audibly. 
 
 "Whatever shall we do with him ?" said Bob ; "do you 
 think we can lay him at the bottom of the cart, Jack ? He 
 isn't safe here ; he'll topple over." 
 
 "Let's get the reins out of his hands first, and then 
 we'll see about making him comfortable," replied John 
 " We must put him to bed with the pigs and potatoes. 
 He'll do very well down at the bottom of the cart, but I 
 must have the reins." 
 
 But Tim was faithful to his trust ; he held the reins 
 tightly, and only murmured forth, as he grasped them more 
 closely, " Master said I was to be sure and drive myself, so 
 I durstn't trust thee, Master John." Then he began snor 
 ing again, louder than ever. 
 
 " Here's a pretty fix ! " cried John. " He can't drive 
 
26 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 himself, and won't let me. Whatever time shall we get 
 home at this rate ? " 
 
 Bob stuck his hands in his pockets, and contemplated 
 the sleeping Tim, saying, " He's sure to fall off if we let 
 him sleep there." 
 
 And so Tim did, but luckily only backwards, dropping 
 right at the bottom of the cart, where the sow made him 
 anything but welcome, while the little pigs began munching 
 the reins. 
 
 " Oh, this'll never do ! " cried Bob. " Those creatures 
 will eat him next ; but how ever shall we get him on the 
 seat again ! I declare if that old sow isn't poking her snout 
 at him. She means to take a bite or two. Let him alone, 
 you brute ! " 
 
 John looked thoughtfully at Tim and the pigs. " There 
 isn't room enough for all, unless we could take the sow in 
 the front seat with us, which I don't think we could. I'm 
 sure she wants to nibble at him. But, Bob, I've got an 
 idea! Why should that great fat beast be carried, any 
 more than Shock, who's content to run after the cart, let it 
 go as fast as it will. Let's tie her underneath by the neck, 
 and turn the little ones out, they'll be safe to follow their 
 mother, and we shall all get home famously, for the horse 
 won't have such a load to carry, and poor old Tim can have 
 the cart to himself, and the potatoes." 
 
 " Do you think we can fasten her underneath ? " said 
 Bob, doubtfully, " and, when we have fastened her, will she 
 walk ? " 
 
BRINGING PIGS FROM MARKET. 27 
 
 " Safe to," replied John ; " why, what a piece of non- 
 sense it is to be carrying a great lazy animal in a cart when 
 she has four stout legs of her own to walk upon. Now, 
 old lady, turn out. Let's have your necktie, Bob; no, it 
 isn't long enough, we must take the cord from the po- 
 tatoes ; there you are, join them together, and there's 
 plenty of rope *br my lady. Now we've got to get her 
 out." 
 
 Theyloweied the tail-board of the cart, and with some 
 difficulty succeeded in hauling out the sow. She did not 
 like it at all, and grunted sorely at such treatment ; but 
 they tied her under the cart, much in the manner that dogs 
 are sometimes secured, and then turned out the little pigs, 
 by which time Bob found, to his great satisfaction, that Tim 
 had dropped hold of the reins. 
 
 "We'll make him comfortable before we start," said he, 
 and so they did, as far as the very limited space at the 
 bottom of the cart would allow ; then John took the reins, 
 and proceeded to show Bob his new way of driving. 
 
 " The first thing is to make him hold his head up," said 
 he, drawing the snaffle so tight that the poor horse felt his 
 neck almost dislocated, and naturally began to rebel, strug- 
 gling and kicking in hope of being free. "Ah! she isn't 
 used to it ; wait a bit, she'll soon find the benefit of it." 
 But the horse didn't find the benefit of it, for he struggled 
 and kicked still more, and by so doing greatly incommoded 
 the sow, who, finding herself annoyed by the horse's legs, 
 naturally retaliated by taking a bite at them. This scared 
 
28 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 poor Wheeler more than ever ; away he started, drag- 
 ging cart and pig at his heels at a terrific rate. Bob was 
 thoroughly frightened, but John was in all his glory. 
 " Didn't I tell you I'd make him go off like a wild horse of 
 the desert !" he cried. " Did you ever know old Wheeler 
 start off in this style before ? " 
 
 However, Wheeler had tugged at the reins to such good 
 purpose that he got his head comparatively free, and, being 
 a horse of a quiet disposition, once more proceeded at a 
 gentle pace, Bob imploring John not to draw the reins so 
 tightly again ; " for if he goes like a wild Arab, the sow 
 cant. 
 
 " Why shouldn't she ? " replied John. " Pigs can run fast 
 enough when they please, only people let them give way to 
 their laziness, and never think of putting them to any other 
 use than just to make pork and bacon out of them." 
 
 " Well, whatever else should they do with them ? " 
 asked Bob. 
 
 " / don't see why they shouldn't draw dogs'-meat carts, 
 and children's chaises," said John, " I'm sure they're strong 
 enough. Let them work for their living, I say, and not 
 think they come into the world just to eat and grow fat, 
 and then be sold by the butcher ; they may as well be 
 turned to account while they're waiting for that ; at any 
 rate I shall make this old lady and her young ones gallop 
 as fast as Wheeler. Now, old fellow, hold up your head, 
 and off we go." 
 
 Away Wheeler started, and the poor sow under the 
 
BRINGING PIGS FROM MARKET. 29 
 
 cart, rinding herself forced to run too, grunted and panted, 
 but still got over the ground faster than she had ever done 
 in her life before. The little pigs kept up with their 
 mother, squeaking awfully the while, and making their 
 poor little legs ache with the unwonted pace. John ex- 
 ulted loudly, " Isn't it stunning ! Didn't I tell you the 
 old lady could run, and the young ones too, if they were 
 only taught they must. And look at old Wheeler. Isn't 
 he clearing the ground in style ! That's my new way of 
 holding him in ! People don't half know how to drive." 
 
 Presently they came to a little hamlet by the roadside, 
 the children in which, having dined, were returning to 
 school. Of course, the sight of a horse at full gallop 
 with a sow tied under the cart running as fast as the horse, 
 and a swarm of little pigs trotting after her, was too great 
 a treat to these youngsters for them not to see as much as 
 they could of it, instead of making haste to their lessons. 
 Away they ran, too, shouting, hurrahing, flinging their caps 
 in the air, and throwing stones at the pigs to make them 
 run faster. John took this as a small ovation, a tribute to 
 his skill in driving, and in teaching pigs the way they 
 should go ; while Bob, thoroughly frightened, expecting 
 every instant the cart would be upset, kept imploring 
 John not to urge Wheeler on so fast, but to be content 
 with arriving home in a quieter manner. 
 
 " That'll never do," replied John ; •' I must conquer him 
 now I've begun, or he'll think he's conquered me. Don't 
 the old lady below keep it up well ! and the young ones 
 
30 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 are going it in style. No, it won't do, Wheeler," he added 
 as the horse attempted to slacken his pace, and carry his 
 head a little more as Nature meant he should ; " on you 
 go, and up you keep your head," He gave Wheeler a lash 
 with the whip as he spoke, and pulled more tightly at the 
 reins. John was anything but a cruel boy ; still he had his 
 theory to enforce, and if Wheeler could not be brought to 
 go, by any other means, in the way John thought it right he 
 should, why the whip must be resorted to. But Wheeler 
 did not approve of the lash, nor of having his head pulled 
 in so tightly. He pranced and kicked, and the poor sow 
 received one of his heels full on her nose. She gave him 
 in return so sharp a bite that poor Wheeler, thoroughly 
 furious, ran on, and instead of turning the corner as he 
 should have done, kept straight forward, and let John pull 
 as he might, never desisted running till he found himself 
 in the middle of a tall quick-set hedge, where he was 
 obliged perforce to come to a standstill, greatly to the 
 comfort of the unfortunate sow, wru" was able to take 
 breath at last, while her little ones gathered round her, 
 telling their mamma most pathetically how tired they were 
 with trying to keep up with her. As to the school-children, 
 of course they were highly delighted with Wheeler's pre- 
 dicament, and clapped their hands, and expressed the'.r 
 approval as loudly as if he had run into the hedge on pur- 
 pose to please them. 
 
 " Here's a pretty go ! " said Bob, ruefully ; " what's to 
 be done now ? " 
 
BRINGING PIGS FROM MARKET. 31 
 
 " Get Wheeler out of this, and he'll go on right enough," 
 replied John. " I only wish those little monkeys wouldn't 
 stand there making such a dreadful noise." 
 
 Bob and he got down and endeavored to extricate 
 Wheeler from the hedge. It was a work of difficulty, and 
 they tore their hands and clothes in doing so, but at last 
 they succeeded, and were about to get into the cart again, 
 when a loud shout from the children informed them that 
 the sow had released herself from her very unpleasant po- 
 sition, and was making her escape as fast as she could, fol- 
 lowed by all her little ones. Away darted the school- 
 children after her. Who could be expected to think about 
 lessons with such a chase before them ? Bob and John 
 ran off; it would never do for Uncle George to lose his 
 pigs like this ; and Wheeler, finding himself left to his own 
 resources, thought the best thing he could do would be to 
 go quietly home in his own old-fashioned way, instead of 
 being driven after John's new one. Away he started, 
 and it was not long before Uncle George was surprised 
 to see old Wheeler trotting into the yard without, appar- 
 ently, any one in the cart behind him. Wheeler was the 
 steadiest horse in the village, the very last to be suspected 
 of such an impropriety as running away ; but coming home 
 like this without either Tim or the boys, looked very much 
 like it, and then, where were the pigs ? 
 
 Uncle George got up and looked in the cart, expect- 
 ing to find the pigs there, but instead, he saw Tim with 
 his head on a sack of potatoes, snoring heavily. He shook 
 
32 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 him, and Tim grunted out, " Dont'ee, dont'ee, Master 
 John ; master said I wasn't to let 'ee have the reins." 
 
 " Where's the pigs ? " asked Uncle George, " and 
 where's John and Bob ? " 
 
 " All right, all right, Mrs. Dale," said Tim, sleepily ; 
 " one of the master's own sort, as tidy a beast as ever 
 brought up a litter." 
 
 " Mrs. Dale ! then he's been at ' The Chequers,' " said 
 Uncle George, " and I suppose I must go there to look 
 after the pigs. I hope Master John won't be trying any of 
 his new • ideas ' upon them." 
 
 He called a couple of his men, and they took Tim and 
 the potatoes out of the cart, laying the former down in the 
 work-shed to sleep himself sober, while Uncle George 
 got into the cart and drove off in the direction of " The 
 Chequers," hoping there to find his pigs, and to learn how 
 it was Tim had come home in the cart by himself. He had 
 not driven above a mile when he heard a perfect Babel of 
 children's voices proceeding from a field separated from 
 the road by a high hedge. 
 
 " I've got this fellow by the tail. Run round this way, 
 Tom, and catch the old sow ! Hold her head ! Pull her 
 legs ! Give her a knock ! Get on her back ! I'm on ! " 
 
 And looking over the hedge, Uncle George saw twenty 
 urchins, with John and Bob foremost among them, trying 
 to chase half as many pigs, while one red-headed little 
 fellow had actually leaped on the back of the sow, and 
 was doing all he could to impede her further progress, b) 
 
BRINGING PIGS FROM MARKET. 33 
 
 pulling her head by the ears. It was a fortunate thing that 
 the sow rushed into a field, the gate of which was open, 
 and that Bob (John would never thought of such a sim- 
 ply practical thing) had closed the gate when the children 
 had all run in after her, otherwise the chase might have 
 continued until nightfall ; and, as it was, it was a matter of 
 no slight difficulty to catch so many pigs. Shock was 
 doing his best to help, barking furiously, taking flying 
 bites first at one and then at the other, but as soon as a 
 pig was caught it only struggled away out of its captor's 
 arms, and the hunt had to begin over again. However, 
 Bob and John having secured the sow, began to consider 
 where they should place her while they captured the 
 others, but were not left long in doubt, Uncle George's 
 voice sounding over the hedge, " Tie her round the neck 
 by this rope, and lead her here ; I've got the cart outside. 
 Now, you youngsters," he added, addressing the village 
 children, " a penny for every pig you bring. Look sharp, 
 and see who'll catch them quickest." 
 
 This was putting the thing in a business-like way, and 
 the children, who had only chased the pigs in fun before, 
 now began to do so in real earnest. Bob and John soon 
 had the sow in the cart, and then set to work, too, to help 
 catch the little pigs, which were soon all with their mother, 
 grunting peacefully in the cart by her side, while the school- 
 children departed in high glee to spend the pennies whicf 
 they had won by capturing the pigs. 
 
 " And now, young man," said Uncle George, address 
 3 
 
34 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 mg John, when they were all together in the cart, "can 
 you tell me how it was Wheeler came home without you, 
 and the pigs were all loose in the field ? " 
 
 John looked rather awkward, but he was a boy who had 
 never told an untruth in his life, and after a little hesita- 
 tion, he frankly told Uncle George the whole state of the 
 case, passing over Tim's visit to " The Chequers " as lightly 
 as he could. Uncle George was too well pleased at having 
 all his pigs in safety to find much fault ; besides, he knew 
 that Tim would, as he said, " be ashamed enough of him- 
 self when he was sober." " I think next time, however," 
 he added, " I'll send Wheeler to market by himself. He 
 seems more fit to be trusted than either Tim or you, 01 
 both put together. But then you see, John, he is but a 
 brute, and isn't blessed like you with a plentiful stock of 
 * ideas. ' " 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 HOW TO MAKE OLD BOOTS BETTER THAN NEW. SHOWING, 
 TOO, THAT IT IS NOT SO EASY TO STAND ON ONE'S 
 DIGNITY WHEN ONE HAS LITTLE BESIDES TO STAND ON. 
 
 T)OB got on pretty well at Uncle George's. He was 
 "*-^ very fond of his little cousins, very obedient to his 
 aunt, and seldom got into any mischief unless John was 
 with him to show him the way. His cold, too, got better ; 
 and, when his father came to Shedley, he was so pleased 
 with the improvement in him, that he was easily persuaded 
 to let him remain there for the whole of the Christmas hol- 
 idays. This arrangement was a very good one, as it left 
 Bob's father and mother at liberty to pay a long-talked-of 
 Christmas visit to some relatives in Cumberland ; and, as 
 they were elderly people, Bob would certainly not have en- 
 joyed himself half so much among them as he would be 
 sure to do amongst Uncle George's houseful of children, to 
 say nothing of the society of his cousin John. Very soon, 
 too, John and he had a third friend, in the person of anoth- 
 er boy who was at home for the Christmas holidays. This 
 young gentleman was about fourteen, a pupil at one of the 
 
30 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 largest London schools, to which he went up every day bj 
 rail. He was a clever boy — slight, tall, and with thin, del- 
 icate features, and fair hair. He had carried off several 
 prizes at each school-examination, and had as firm a faith 
 in the South Middlesex University as John had in any of 
 his " ideas." He had never expressed it in as many words , 
 but you could easily gather that, in Master Theodore Har- 
 ley's opinion, the South Middlesex University was the first 
 school in the world, and he the first boy in it. John and 
 Bob, however, were not disposed to quarrel with him on 
 that account. One was too full of his own " ideas " to care 
 very much for such matter-of-course things as his lessons ; 
 while the other, though a clever boy in his way, liked any- 
 thing better than school. Theodore, or Ted, as his inti- 
 mates called him, gave himself a few airs — was apt to judge 
 people and things by his school standard — " what our mas- 
 ters would say of them," or what " our fellows would do ;" 
 but this did not hinder his being a thoroughly pleasant 
 companion, and a very good-hearted fellow. Ted's parents 
 — I think I may consider myself one of Ted's intimates, so 
 I will give him his short name — resided a little distance 
 from Uncle George's. They were elderly people, Ted be- 
 ing the youngest of a large family, all of whom, but him- 
 self, had either died in infancy, or were married and set- 
 tled elsewhere ; consequently, when at home, Ted was 
 thrown very much upon his own resources, and left to find 
 his own amusements and make his own friends ; and, on the 
 whole, I think he might have done worse than spend his 
 
NOW TO MAKE OLD BOOTS NEW. 37 
 
 time so much as he did with Bob and John, although, dur- 
 ing these Christmas holidays, they certainly led him into 
 not a few scrapes, which indeed no boy could keep out of 
 who was much in Master John's company. 
 
 I suppose there is no boy who reads this book but 
 knows something of Penny Readings. There is scarcely a 
 village or town in England without them, and very good 
 things they are. Well, this winter the good folks — some 
 of them at least — in Shedley, thought they would have 
 Penny Readings of their own. The idea originated with 
 some of the working-men, who had formed themselves into 
 a club, thinking, and very rightly, that they had quite as 
 much right to meet together for the purpose of draughts, 
 chess, conversation, or reading, when they had done their 
 hard day's work, as the fine gentlemen at the West-End 
 had to come together after no work at all. Out of one 
 good thing often comes another, and out of the working- 
 men's club had arisen the Penny Readings ; and, though this 
 was the first winter, they were going on very well indeed, 
 and giving great satisfaction and amusement to many every 
 Wednesday evening. Neither Ted, John nor Bob had yet 
 attended any of them, but the first Wednesday after the 
 former had returned home, they were all going to do so, 
 Ted's father, Mr. Harley, having promised to take the 
 chair. 
 
 The different gentlemen in the village were in the 
 habit of doing so alternately, and of reading aloud, and 
 otherwise assisting the club on these evenings ; but the 
 
38 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 one who patronized them most graciously, and looked most 
 affably upon their progress, was Strangeways Fripp, Esq. 
 He was the greatest man in the village. There were 
 richer men and better born, but no one who, like Mr. 
 Fripp, had contrived so successfully to impress every one, 
 not excepting himself, with such an overwhelming idea of 
 his own importance. It was believed by some in Shedley 
 that the cocks would cease to crow, and the clocks to 
 strike, if anything went wrong with Mr. Fripp; that the 
 whole machinery of the village would come to a stand-still, 
 and nothing go right ever more, if he did not remain in 
 it, and keep things going as they should do. He was a 
 tall, portly man, with hair just turning gray — had been 
 handsome in his time, and was still exceedingly good- 
 looking. He had the blandest, most gracious manner 
 possible ; was uniformly courteous to every one, after an 
 elaborate, dignified style of his own, which made all with 
 whom he came in contact feel how very small they were, 
 and how very good Mr. Fripp was in taking notice of them 
 at all. 
 
 Now, as Mr. Fripp was quite as much persuaded as 
 every one else that nothing in the village could go right 
 without him, he was always present at the Penny Readings, 
 and really made himself very useful at them. The Na- 
 tional School boys were always there in great numbers, 
 and sometimes were inclined to be a little unruly. A word 
 or even a look, from Mr. Fripp, was sufficient to recall them 
 to order, as they stood more in awe of him than even the) 
 
HOW TO MAKE OLD BOOTS K&W. 39 
 
 did of their master; while, if the laboring men, who formed 
 the bulk of the audience, were inclined to show too plainly 
 when a reading was of an undue length, or not to their 
 taste, that they disapproved of it, Mr. Fripp's indignant " Si- 
 lence there ! " and the glance of offended majesty he cast 
 round to see who was creating an uproar in his presence, 
 had an immediate effect in causing silence. Mr. Fripp was 
 superb when he took the chair ; he praised every one and 
 everything, as if he knew his praise was worth the having, 
 and that, in bestowing it, he was conferring an inestimable 
 reward ; and, no doubt, in his own opinion, he was. Mr. 
 Fripp was to read to-night ; he was that rare thing, a good 
 reader. I wonder, boys, whether all these Penny Readings 
 will not, in time, make good readers of you ! If so, the 
 next generation will be much better off than we are in this. 
 Ted, Bob, and John were very early at the Readings. 
 Mr. Harley was to come after in his phaeton, but the three 
 boys had walked on first. It was a raw, cold night, and the 
 roads were very sloppy and muddy. John had been so busy 
 with some experiment he was concocting that he had not 
 given himself time to dress properly, but had drawn on 
 the first pair of boots which came to his hand ; and, as 
 these were thin ones, only fit for summer wear, his feet 
 were damp when he arrived at the boys' school- room, 
 where the meetings were held. Mr. Norton, the school- 
 master, who was always present on these occasions, heard 
 him saying so to Ted and Bob, and good-naturedly asked 
 him if he would step into the small class-room, which 
 
40 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 was at the back of the large school-room, and dry his boots, 
 as there was a good fire there. This was a very accept- 
 able offer ; and as it still wanted twenty minutes to eight, 
 the hour at which the readings commence, the three ooys, 
 who were all cold, felt that they should spend the time 
 while they were waiting much more agreeably there than 
 in the large school-room, where as yet scarcely any one 
 had arrived but themselves. 
 
 On entering the class-room, they saw Mr. Fripp warm- 
 ing his hands by the fire. He had been changing his 
 boots : not for the world would Mr. Fripp have appeared on 
 the platform in dirty ones, and therefore he always sent 
 down a pair of dress-boots to put on when he arrived at the 
 school-room. He had just placed the boots he had taken 
 off in a cupboard he always appropriated for the purpose ; 
 and presently, after giving the young gentlemen a very 
 encouraging " Good-evening," he went into the school- 
 room so see if the lamps were being duly lit, and every- 
 thing going on as it should do. 
 
 Everything would have gone on very well without Mr. 
 Fripp, but then it was impossible for Mr. Fripp to believe 
 that it could ; so, after satisfying himself that all the arrange- 
 ments were complete, he returned to his seat on the plat- 
 form, a dignity which he shared in common with the Rector 
 ««id the Chairman. Mr. Fripp always liked to sit there, to 
 support the Chairman, as he said ; that is, to encourage 
 him if he was diffident, do his work for him if he was not 
 ^uite up to it, and keep the school-boys in order if they 
 
HOW TO MAKE OLD BOOTS NEW. 41 
 
 tvere disposed to be unruly. He sat there now, waiting for 
 the Rector, a meek, placid, elderly gentleman, who came 
 to the Penny Readings, not on account of any interest he 
 could possibly have in any thing that was going on, as he 
 detested music, disliked light reading, and thought no 
 recitations in the world worth hearing but passages from 
 Homer in the original Greek ; but, as he was the Rector, 
 he thought it incumbent on him to attend occasionally to 
 see how the people were going on, to let them know that 
 he was there to look after them, and to keep them from 
 protracting the readings to an undue length, as he had a 
 great aversion to late hours. Presently he came, and Mr. 
 Fripp rose to receive him — a compliment he always paid the 
 Rector — and they had a little chat together while waiting 
 for the Chairman. 
 
 Meanwhile, John had been not only drying his boots, 
 but informing Ted and Bob of an " idea " he had got, by 
 which boots could be made waterproof. " It's a better 
 thing than gutta-percha — done in half the time, and not 
 half the trouble. It's melted glue, resin, and fine gravel 
 all mixed up together ; you put it on the soles, leave the 
 boots to harden in the air, and, as soon as they're dry, 
 you're all right. I've got some of the stuff in a bottle with 
 me. I'd just finished making it when you fellows came. 
 My mixture, I call it. I think I'll ask mother to let me 
 take out a patent for it ; I'm sure it would make my 
 fortune. I wish I'd a pair of boots handy, just to show you 
 two how it's done. I'd put it on my own, only I can't gc 
 
42 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 m the school -room without them, and the glue mxst be 
 thoroughly dried in the air before the boots can be worn." 
 
 These remarks were overheard by a gentleman who was 
 waiting in the class-room before he made his appearance on 
 the platform. As a general rule, those who contributed to 
 the amusement of the audience sat amongst them till their 
 turn came to read, recite, or sing ; but Mr. Gubbins was to 
 appear in character — that of a negro — and was blacking his 
 face preparatory to going on the platform. He was a mis- 
 chievous fellow, and, unfortunately, not so strict in his re- 
 gard to truth as he should have been when a joke was in 
 the way ; so, knowing where Mr. Fripp kept his boots, he 
 fetched them from the cupboard, and unblushingly offered 
 them to John as his own, requesting him, with the utmost 
 civility, to be good enough to try his mixture upon them. 
 It struck him that, if the glue did not dry on the boots, or 
 Mr. Fripp were to warm his feet with them on, the conse- 
 quences, when he attempted to move, might be rather 
 amusing. 
 
 " They're a nice-looking pair," said Ted, eyeing Mr. 
 Gubbins curiously ; " and you've got a pair on your feet as 
 well." 
 
 "Ah!" said Mr. Gubbins, rather loftily, "these are my 
 every-day ones — good enough to act a nigger in ; but the 
 others are my Sunday best, and I walked here in them, 
 and brought the old ones with me along with the other 
 things for the part." 
 
 " All right ! " said John, only too pleased to have a pair 
 
HOW TO MAKE OLD BOOTS NEW. 43 
 
 of boots to operate upon ; " I must get the stuff warm first, 
 which I can do in the bottle that holds it, as it's stone." 
 
 He placed the bottle — which, indeed, was, as he said, 
 qu ; te stout enough to stand the fire — on the hob, and, as 
 soon as the glue had melted, spread his mixture liberally 
 on the soles of the boots, Mr. Gubbins politely holding 
 them for the purpose ; then the latter opened the window 
 of the class-room and deposited Mr. Fripp's boots, soles up- 
 wards, on the sill, and, having closed it, proceeded with his 
 toilet, while John and his friends went to the school-room 
 for the purpose of witnessing the evening's performances. 
 
 Three front seats had been reserved for them by Mr. 
 Harley. Ted set himself down by his mother ; and, folding 
 his arms and crossing his legs, prepared to criticise the 
 evening's performances at his ease. Mr. Fripp was the 
 first who read, and Ted listened attentively. 
 
 "He's done it very well — very well indeed," he said, 
 when the other had finished. " A little more animation, 
 and I think Mr. Fripp wouldn't be a bad reader." 
 
 Then followed a recitation — a comic one — by a young 
 fellow whose very face made the audience laugh, it was so 
 inexpressibly good-humored and mirthful ; this was very 
 well done, but it did not satisfy John. 
 
 "He's like old Fripp," said he — "wants a little more 
 energy. Now I wonder how this fellow will do his part ! 
 Oh, there's two of them ! — Warwick and Edward the 
 Fourth, from Henry the Sixth." 
 
 Ted paid great attention to this. "Not so bad!" he 
 
44 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 said, patronizingly, when it was over; "but I should like 
 you to hear the fellows at our school — " 
 
 " It's not what I like, though," said John ; " there's no 
 ' go ' in them. I've an ' idea ' I should do that sort of thing 
 much better myself. They do not throw enough spirit 
 into the thing. I'll ask mother to let me recite next 
 time, just to show them how it should be done. I sus- 
 pect I should make them open their eyes a little." 
 
 Next followed a comic song, really very well sung, and 
 then the blacksmith of the village gave a popular ditty, 
 which was very much approved, for every boy joined in the 
 chorus, and they always liked those songs best where they 
 could do so, and the manner in which the burden of this 
 song was rendered was almost deafening; in fact, the 
 audience were so carried away with delight at their own 
 vocal efforts, that they insisted upon an encore, which, 
 though against the rules — for the Rector was very anxious 
 that all should be over by half-past nine — was acceded to, 
 and the chorus was joined in more lustily than ever, Bob 
 and John joining in it as heartily as any one, while Ted still 
 sat silent, with folded arms, smiling with conscious supe- 
 riority. 
 
 " What a noise you fellows have been making ! " he said, 
 when the song was over. " It's rather caddish, you know, 
 that kind of thing. We never have anything to do with 
 stuff like that at the University. Hallo ! here's my pater- 
 nal relative going to read ; now I wonder how ^'11 do it ! " 
 
 Master Ted prepared himself to criticise his father as 
 
HOW TO MAKE OLD BOOTS NEW. 45 
 
 coolly and impartially as he had criticised every one else ; 
 and Mr. Harley read a very beautiful little story from 
 Washington Irving's " Sketch Book," at the end of which 
 his son observed, " Now that really was very well done ; 
 but I don't particularly admire Washington Irving myself." 
 
 Then the Rector read one of Cowper's shorter poems, 
 which was not at all to Ted's taste, or John's either. As 
 to Bob, he had no opinion of his own on such matters. 
 He approved or disapproved just as his friends told him, 
 and was therefore quite ready to agree with Ted when he 
 observed — 
 
 " Don't think much of the piece, or the old gentleman's 
 reading either. They didn't teach him to open his mouth 
 wide enough when he went to school ; that's a great point 
 with our elocution-master." 
 
 The performances wound up, as usual, with " God 
 save the Queen." A number of the schoolboys came on 
 the platform and sang it, the audience joining in. It was 
 a pretty sight to see the little fellows, with their chubby, 
 well-washed faces, and well-worn garments, singing away 
 with all their hearts and all their lungs. There were a 
 dozen or more of them, the best singers in the school, and 
 they always gave the National Anthem to conclude the 
 Readings with. The Rector, however, ran away before they 
 had finished singing ; not that he was wanting in loyalty, 
 but the readings had been protracted to an unusual 
 length, and he did not like being out late himself, or en- 
 couraging other folks to be so. When the singing was 
 
46 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 over, the audience departed, the boys, who were always 
 there in great numbers, springing over the benches in 
 rather a disorderly manner, till they were recalled to order 
 by Mr, Fripp's dignified " Boys ! boys ! " when they went 
 out a little more quietly, not choosing to incur any severe 
 reprimand from Mr. Fripp, who still kept his eye upon 
 them. 
 
 Mrs. Harley told Ted he had better walk home with 
 his friends. She had one vacant seat in the carriage, but 
 she was reserving that for Mr. Fripp, as she intended to 
 ask him home to supper with her eldest daughter, Mrs. 
 Glynn, who had come from London the preceding day, and 
 had accompanied her to the Readings, and with her and 
 Mr. Fripp the carriage would be quite full. That gentle- 
 man having seen the boys leave the school-room, got down 
 from the platform himself, there being an opening at the 
 oack of it into the class-room, which was generally screen- 
 2d by a curtain. He found Oakes there, his man of all 
 work, waiting, rather testily, to carry his master's dress- 
 boots home ; it was getting late, and Oakes disapproved, 
 quite as much as the Rector did, of late hours. Mr. Fripp 
 pulled off his boots and gave them to the old man, then 
 proceeded to warm his feet before putting his others on, 
 and next turned to the cupboard, which was close by the 
 fireplace, where he had put them, for the purpose of taking 
 them out. 
 
 But there were no boots there ; and Mr. Gubbins, who 
 was removing the black from his face, knew very well that 
 
HOW TO MAKE OLD BOOTS NEW. 47 
 
 they were not there. He had gone to the window a few 
 minutes before this, intending to fetch the boots in, and 
 give the soles a good warming, thinking to derive a little 
 amusement at Mr. Fripp's expense. It was a presump- 
 tuous thought, and Mr. Gubbins was punished for it in a 
 manner he little expected. The boots had gone from the 
 window-sill, nor had they dropped outside, for he sprang 
 out of the window to look for them, but they were not to 
 be found. Mr. Gubbins got in again, feeling almost as 
 much vexed as if the boots had been his own. Mr. Fripj 
 had been a good friend to the club, and this would look 
 as if some of its members had returned his kindness by 
 stealing his boots. A joke was one thing, thought Mr. 
 Gubbins, but a theft was quite another, and he resolved 
 to lose no time in washing his face, making himself look a 
 little more like a decent working-man, and a little less like 
 a " nigger," and start off to try if he could recover Mr. 
 Fripp's property. 
 
 Meanwhile, that gentleman, indignant at finding his 
 boots gone, called loudly for Mr. Norton, the schoolmaster, 
 and told him what had happened. Mr. Norton was sur- 
 prised and annoyed, and began a vigorous search after the 
 missing articles. Mr. Gubbins assisted, declaiming loudly 
 against whoever could have taken them, but the boots 
 were not forthcoming. Mr. Fripp became very angry. 
 He felt that some one had been playing him a trick, and 
 he naturally resented their doing so. Indeed, he was 
 much more indignant than he would have been if he had 
 
48 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 merely believed the boots to have been stolen. Unlike 
 Mr. Gubbins, he thought a joke a much more unpardon- 
 able offence than a theft, when that joke was practised 
 upon Strangeways Fripp, Esq. 
 
 Mr. Harley was about to leave the platform for the 
 purpose of joining his wife in the school-room, when she, 
 followed by Mrs. Glynn, went up to him. " Have you 
 asked Mr. Fripp to come home with us to supper ? " she 
 said. 
 
 " Quite forgot it, my dear," said Mr. Harley. " He's 
 only in the class-room here — suppose you do so yourself." 
 
 " Come with me, Mary," said Mrs. Harley to her daugh 
 ter, " and I'll introduce you to him at the same time." 
 
 The two ladies entered the class-room, to Mr. Fripp's 
 extreme discomfiture. To think of his being seen by ladies 
 in his stockings ! and what made matters worse was, that 
 the big toe of one of his feet was pushing its way through 
 a small hole which had been worn into the stocking since 
 the morning. He looked aghast at the hole ! How should 
 he hide it from Mrs. Harley's eyes, and from those of the 
 strange lady with her ? He thought he would cover one 
 foot with the other, and try if that would do. It conceal- 
 ed the hole certainly ; but standing in this position to sa- 
 lute a lady is rather awkward, as you will find, boys, if you 
 try it ; and then it simply hid the hole, and not the fact 
 that he was still in his stockings, and how could he shake 
 hands with Mrs. Harley without first explaining how it was 
 he happened to be so ? 
 
HO IV TO MAKE OLD BOOTS NEW. 49 
 
 On came Mrs. Harley, smiling and with outstretched 
 hand. She was tall and stout, with voluminous skirts, 
 and her daughter was quite as tall, and her skirts as wide 
 as her mother's. Mr. Fripp felt himself overpowered as 
 they bore down upon him ; and, when Mrs. Harley shook 
 hands with him, in the most friendly manner possible, and 
 introduced him to her daughter, he wished the floor of the 
 school-room would open and let him through. Mrs. Glynn 
 bowed, and he had to bow in return, and in so doing was 
 learly tnrown off his balance ; then Mrs. Harley gave him 
 her invitation to supper, which he hesitated about accept 
 ing, for now could he go out to supper without his boots ? 
 Mrs. Glynn glanced at his feet : " Oh, mamma, we are keep- 
 ing Mr. Fripp all this time standing without his boots ! " 
 
 Mr. Fripp began a labored explanation as to his boots 
 being mislaid, when Mrs. Glynn and her mother begged 
 him to sit down while waiting for their being found ; but 
 how could Mr. Fripp walk to a chair without exposing that 
 unlucky hole ? Mrs. Glynn saw his perplexity, and enjoy- 
 ed it ; she guessed the state of the case as far as the hole 
 was concerned, as not for a second would Mr. Fripp change 
 the position of his feet ; but her good-nature getting the 
 better of her love of fun, she turned her head aside, 
 and drew her mother gently away, that Mr. Fripp might 
 have an opportunity of drawing on his boots undisturbed. 
 This was very good of her, if only Mr. Fripp had had his 
 boots to put on. He was able to stand at ease for a mo- 
 ment or so, and to look round to see if the boots were 
 
50 1 HE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 forthcoming ; but Mr. Norton came up with a puzzled face 
 to say the boots could not be found, and the only thing he 
 could suggest was for Mr. Fripp to put on a pair of his 
 own, for which he would send to his house at once ; but 
 Mr. Norton was a small man, and Mr. Fripp, to say the 
 least, a stout one ; so, when the boots came, it was a work 
 of no small difficulty for him to draw them on, and a very 
 painful exertion for him to reach Mr. Harley's carriage. 
 It was quite impossible for him to maintain his accustom- 
 ed majesty of movement under such circumstances, still 
 less to behave with his accustomed urbanity and politeness 
 to the ladies he was accompanying, and he had to suffer 
 both Mrs. Harley and her daughter to get into the carriage 
 without his assistance, and to sit in torture the whole time 
 of the drive, and at last to borrow a pair of boots of Mr 
 Harley (who was nearer his own figure than Mr. Norton) 
 to walk home in, as it was quite out of the question that he 
 could do so in the pair Mr. Norton had lent him. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE GREAT-GRANDMOTHER'S SPELL. HOW MR. TAGART 
 FOUND HIS BOOTS AN UNPLEASANTLY TIGHT FIT. 
 
 rTlED had been very much vexed that Mr. Fripp should 
 ■""- have lost his boots through the experiment his friend 
 John had played upon them. He said nothing, however, as 
 to his own knowledge of the manner in which they might 
 have disappeared, as he would have thought it " sneaky " 
 to have told of John's share in the matter ; but he resolved 
 to go next morning with both John and Bob to Mr. Gub- 
 bins and insist upon his restoring the property which, in 
 his own mind, he felt convinced Gubbins had stolen. Mr. 
 Gubbins having promised the boys to take the boots in 
 from the window as soon as the glue had hardened, it was 
 not unnatural for Ted to imagine that he had taken a 
 fancy to them for himself. 
 
 But while Ted was entertaining these hard thoughts 
 of Mr. Gubbins, that gentleman was exerting himself vig- 
 orously to restore the missing property. He felt the 
 honor of the club was at stake, as no one had been in the 
 room from the time Mr. Fripp changed his boots till he 
 re-entered it but the three boys and different members of 
 
52 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 the club, and suspicion would be sure to rest upon some 
 of the latter, and there was no way of removing it but by 
 avowing the experiment that had been tried upon them, 
 which Mr. Gubbins, for many reasons, felt disinclined to do, 
 unless he could find the thief and induce him to give up his 
 plunder. Now the thief, Mr. Gubbins thought, was not 
 likely to be very far off. A narrow passage, much too 
 narrow to be called even a lane, ran by the side of the 
 class-room window, and led to the back entrance of a low 
 beer-shop where the worst characters in Shedley congre- 
 gated. Mr. Gubbins knew this place very well, as, before 
 he joined the working-men's club, he had been one of the 
 most frequent guests ; but he had discontinued his visits 
 there for some time past, spending his spare time in the 
 reading-room of the club, or in preparing for his own per- 
 formances in public; and, though singing nigger songs 
 with a blackened face may not be a very intellectual 
 amusement, at any rate it is a better one than any likely to 
 be found in the taproom of a low public-house. 
 
 However, it was to this very public-house that Mr. Gub- 
 bins now bent his steps. He opened the door without the 
 ceremony of knocking, and went at once to the taproom, 
 where he found several of his former acquaintances seated, 
 singing coarse songs and drinking bad beer. He had a 
 warm welcome ; they were glad to see him amongst them 
 again, especially as they were planning a midnight foray 
 upon some adjacent preserves, and thought Mr. Gubbins, 
 who had formerly been possessed of considerable skill in 
 
THE GREAT-GRANDMOTHERS SPELL. 53 
 
 carrying out such schemes, might lend them some assist- 
 ance. He took a pipe along with the rest, and joined in 
 the talk, looking sharply round the while to see if any of 
 them were wearing a better pair of boots than usual. No ; 
 there was not a foot there with anything upon it but the 
 thick clouted hobnailed shoes usually worn by laborers ; 
 but Mr. Gubbins did not give up hope. Close by the fire 
 he saw a thick stout bag belonging to one Bill Tagart, a 
 notorious rat-catcher, and through the folds of this bag he 
 fancied he could trace the outlines of a pair of boots. Bill 
 earned a fair livelihood by his trade, but he was not too 
 particular what he turned his hand to, and often, when 
 catching rats, had opportunities of finding out the unpro- 
 tected parts of fowlhouses, or the walls where peaches and 
 nectarines grew thickest. He did a little poaching, too, 
 now and then — anything, as he said, to earn an honest 
 penny, he was not particular what. 
 
 Mr. Gubbins soon heard what was in contemplation. 
 The time was drawing on, and he was plainly told that his 
 assistance would be acceptable ; but he had no wish to em- 
 bark in such schemes again. He was beginning to have a 
 taste for something better ; but he did not consider it pru- 
 dent, under present circumstances, to say so. He heard 
 what was wanted of him, and then replied, thoughtfully, — 
 
 " It's all very well, but we've had a week's rain, and 
 tramping through Black's ground with one's shoe-leather 
 the thickness of brown paper don't suit a fellow that's deli- 
 cate at his chest ! — don't laugh ! " Mr. Gubbins was the 
 
54 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 wag of the village, and people expected, as a matter of 
 course, he would say something funny whenever he opened 
 his mouth. " I've been that hoarse to-night I could hardly 
 get through my part. It's all my own fault. I've had the 
 money by me the last fortnight for a new pair of boots, 
 and been too lazy to go to Old Cross for them ; and 
 look at these things ! — my feet are nigh to the ground in 
 them." 
 
 He exhibited his boots to Bill Tagart, who agreed with 
 him that they certainly were very thin and worn. 
 
 " It's a pity that should keep you from going with us, M 
 he said. " The game's as thick as blackberries in autumn, 
 and we're rather short-handed. What might you think of 
 giving now for a pair of boots ? " 
 
 Mr. Gubbins took out a little mole-skin purse, and began 
 counting his money. Bill Tagart eyed it greedily, and said, 
 " If I thought you'd give a fair price for a really first-rate 
 thing, I've got a pair here as I shouldn't mind letting you 
 have. They're too big for me, and so I brought 'em here 
 to ask Jones to set 'em against my score. But if you like 
 'em I'll let you have the first offer. I haven't worn 'em 
 above half-a-dozen times, and they're reg'lar good uns. 
 Come, you shall have 'em for seven-and-six. It's giving 
 them away, but I want you to be one of us to-night." 
 
 So saying, Bill Tagart produced Mr. Fripp's boots from 
 his bag. Mr. Gubbins examined them as if he had never 
 seen them in his life before, and observed to his great satis- 
 faction that the glue and resin which Master John had stuck 
 
THE GREAT-GRANDMOTHER 'S SFELL. 55 
 
 so freely on the soles had not lost any of their tenacious 
 qualities through contact with the earth. He put his hand 
 inside and felt them, then shook his head gravely, " They're 
 precious damp ; you might have dried 'em, Bill, before you 
 brought them out ; let them lay before the fire for a bit, 
 and then I'll try them on." 
 
 He placed them with the soles towards the fire, and 
 went on smoking his pipe. When he thought sufficient 
 time had elapsed for the glue to be thoroughly melted, he 
 took his pipe out of his mouth, and said — 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me you ever got those boots on 
 your feet, Bill ? " 
 
 " Yes, to be sure ; and found 'em a deal too big ; don't 
 I tell you that's why I want to part with 'em ? " 
 
 " Don't believe you could get them on, if you were to 
 try ; and, what's more, I don't believe they're yours any 
 more than they're mine." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " said Mr. Tagart, angrily. 
 
 " I tell you I don't believe you ever wore those boots 
 in your life, or ever saw them before to-night ; and if you 
 get them on, just see if you can get them off again, that's 
 all ; I'll lay the seven-and-sixpence against the boots, that 
 if they're not honestly yours, you don't." 
 
 " And how do you mean to find out ? " 
 
 " My great-grandmother's way ; she was a clever wo- 
 man — cunning, they called it, at those times ; and if she 
 wanted to find out a thief she'd stand him in the middle of 
 the floor, draw a circle round him, and out of it he couldn't 
 
56 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 pass till he'd agreed to give up whatever he'd stolen 
 Now, if you like to bet the boots against the seven-and- 
 sixpence that they're yours, I'll take it, provided you agree 
 to let me try it by my grandmother's circle." 
 
 " You mean to say if I can jump out of the circle the 
 seven-and-sixpence is to be mine, and if not the boots to 
 be yours. Done, my boy ! You may as well hand over 
 the money at once," said Mr. Tagart. 
 
 "Not quite so fast; you must jump out of it in 
 the boots; and if you stole them they'll hold you fast 
 inside." 
 
 " Then the first thing is to get the boots on," observed 
 Mr. Tagart, commencing to do so. 
 
 " Yes, but you must step in the circle, and draw them 
 on there," replied Mr. Gubbins, taking the boot away from 
 the other, and replacing it before the fire. Then he took 
 a piece of chalk out of his pocket, and drew a large circle 
 on the ground. " Now, step into that," he said to Tagart ; 
 " put the boots on when you're in it, and stand stock still 
 while I count a hundred ; you must not move or speak, or 
 you'll break the spell." 
 
 " All right," cried Tagart, doing just as he was told ; 
 then when the boots were on, he stood firmly on his feet 
 in the middle of the circle, with his arms akimbo and his 
 pipe in his mouth, looking triumphantly at his friends; and 
 feeling as sure of the seven-and-sixpence as if he already 
 had it in his pocket. Mr. Gubbins, with a grave face 
 walked slowly round the circle, counting very deliberately 
 
THE GREAT-GRANDMOTHER S SPELL. 57 
 
 while Jones, the landlord, and the rest of the guests 
 laughed and made coarse jokes, and did their best to 
 make Tagart laugh or speak in return. He kept his com- 
 posure, however, and smoked immovably on till Mr. Gub- 
 bins came to ninety-eight, ninety-nine, a hundred, when 
 he attempted to spring out of the circle, but found himself 
 held fast. 
 
 He took his pipe out of his mouth, and looked round 
 affrighted. He began to think there was something in the 
 great-grandmother's spell after all. He tried again to lift 
 his feet, but John's glue was very strong, and Mr. Tagart 
 did not use all the force he might have done had he not 
 been rather afraid that some charm was in operation 
 against him. Every one present but Mr. Gubbins began 
 to feel rather uncomfortable. As to Jones, the landlord, 
 it occurred to him that it would be an extremely unpleas- 
 ant thing and very much in the way of business if Bill 
 Tagart were to stick in the middle of his floor for ever, so 
 he took his pipe out of his mouth, and said gruffly, " Come 
 out o' that, can't you ? " 
 
 " Wish I could," said Tagart. " I say, Gubbins, this is 
 a rum sort o' joke ; I didn't agree for to stand here for 
 ever, and how are you to get the boots if I'm fixed ir 
 them ? " 
 
 " Then I've won the bet ? " asked Gubbins ; " you'll 
 agree to that ? " 
 
 " Oh, bother it, yes ! I'll agree to anything if I can 
 only get out of this." 
 
58 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 "Stealing the boots and all?" said Gubbins signifi 
 cantly. 
 
 " No, not I. What a man finds he has a right to keep 
 hasn't he ? But I'll own that I found the boots instead of 
 buying them, as I told you ; and as soon as I can get out 
 of them you may have 'em." 
 
 " No, I shall take them back to the right owner," re- 
 plied Gubbins, " my great-grandmother won't let me have 
 any peace else." 
 
 " Your great-grandmother ! " cried Tagart, turning 
 pale ; "you don't mean to say she's really a hand in this ? " 
 
 " Hasn't she — what else is keeping you there ? Isn't 
 the old lady a-stooping down behind you, and holding you 
 to the floor as hard as she can ? " 
 
 " I'm not going to stop here I know, to be held down 
 by any one's dead grandmother ! " cried Tagart, trying 
 hard to free his feet from the boots, but he was afraid to 
 use his own hands to help him, for fear of encountering 
 the ghostly ones of the defunct old lady. Mr. Fripp's 
 boots were an easy fit for him, and he succeeded in pulling 
 one foot out, but, in releasing the other, the glue gave way, 
 and the boot becoming loosened, Mr. Tagart was thrown 
 violently back full length on the ground, when the lookers- 
 on, who were fast beginning to suspect something ghostly 
 was at work, set up a cry of dismay, and Mr. Gubbins 
 ciied, in a terror-stricken voice, "She's done it ! " 
 
 Mr. Tagart really believed she had, for he sprang to 
 his feet, and without even stopping to pick up his own 
 
THE GREAT-GRANDMOTHER'S SPELL. 59 
 
 boots, rushed out of the beer-shop, and ran home as fast 
 as he could, while Gubbins went up to Mr. Fripp's boots, 
 and with scarcely any exertion — for the efforts Tagart had 
 made to release himself from them had greatly loosened 
 the glue — raised them from the ground, and carried them 
 off in triumph. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 how john's new "mixture" turns out a better 
 thing than he had expected. 
 
 "IV /TASTER JOHN was indulging in a sweet dream the 
 ■*■*■*- next morning — a dream in which he imagined that 
 he was pouring his " mixture " on the Prince of Wales' 
 boots, while the Queen with her own royal hands was 
 making out his patent — when he was aroused by Martha 
 entering his room, and informing him that there was a 
 man below who wished to see him about something very 
 particular. Up John sprang — " Some one's heard of my 
 ' mixture,' and wants me to put it on their boots for them. 
 To think of its getting known like this already ! " 
 
 He was dressed in five minutes, and ran down stairs, 
 where he found Mr. Gubbins with a parcel under his arm 
 awaiting him in the kitchen. He came towards him with 
 a mysterious look, and shutting the door, said, " Have you 
 heard about the boots, Master Ashdell ? " 
 
 " No ; what about them ? " asked John, eagerly. 
 
 " They was walked away with last night ; but, how- 
 ever, I found where they'd got to, and made the party as 
 
JOHN'S NEW "MIXTURE." 6l 
 
 had helped hisself to them, give them back, and here they 
 are all right, only the worst of it is, they've knocked some 
 of the stuff off ; and perhaps, Master Ashdell, you wouldn't 
 mind putting a little more on. Look, they've used them 
 badly, haven't they ; but don't let the maids know any- 
 thing of it. I'd keep my mouth shut about the ' mixture, 
 if I was you, Master Ashdell, if you don't, other folks will 
 be trying to make something like it." 
 
 " All right ; Martha's setting the breakfast, and won't 
 be here for another ten minutes, and I'll do the boots in 
 half that time," said John. 
 
 He had brought his bottle with him, and the glue was 
 soon warmed and poured on the boots, then Mr. Gubbins 
 said, " Now it's right you should know the truth, Master 
 Ashdell. The boots isn't mine at all, but Mr. Fripp's, and 
 he thinks he's lost 'em ; so if you hear any fuss about it, 
 you'll know it's all right, and he'll get 'em back to-night. 
 I've punished the party pretty well as took 'em, for I 
 shouldn't like it thought the Club was thieves. Now, 
 would you mind writing me a note, Master Ashdell, for 
 the boots to excuse themselves for stopping out without 
 permission ? " 
 
 "All right," replied John, rather flattered at the request, 
 and the confidence reposed in him. He led the way to an 
 untidy little den of his own, where he concocted his exper- 
 iments, and which he called his study. "What shall I 
 write ? " he asked when they were there. 
 
 Mr. Gubbins hesitated ; " Well, perhaps something like 
 
62 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 this, ' Honored sir, we beg pardon for making holiday, bul 
 thought we should like a turn by ourselves. We're all 
 right now, and won't go larking any more. Your humble 
 servants, Boots. Strangeways Fripp, Esq.' " 
 
 John was not at all disinclined to play a joke upon Mr. 
 Fripp, so he wrote the note in his best small round-hand. 
 Mr. Gubbins said he would append it to the boots as soon 
 as they were dry, and that he should leave them after 
 dark ; all of which he did, greatly to Mr. Fripp's discomfit- 
 ure, as he was more than ever convinced that some one 
 had been playing a joke upon him, and till now he had not 
 imagined the individual breathed audacious enough to per- 
 petrate a joke upon Strangeways Fripp, Esq. 
 
 He was so disgusted with the boots that he did not put 
 them on for nearly a week, at the end of which time he was 
 again to be present at the Penny Readings. The night 
 being fine, he resolved to wear the same boots on the plat- 
 form that he had walked to the school-room in, indeed, 
 he never intended for the future to change his boots there 
 at all, but to ride whenever the paths were muddy, and 
 finding these unlucky boots the only clean pair on his boot- 
 horse, he drew them on just before he started for the Read- 
 ings, thinking it would be a strange thing this time if 
 another joke were played through their agency. He little 
 knew the breadth and width of Master John's " idea," and 
 certainly never dreamed what sins Mr. Gubbins was capa- 
 ble of perpetrating. He took unusual pains with his toilet 
 that evening. The night being fine, and the performance? 
 
JOHN'S NEW "MIXTURE." 63 
 
 attractive, the room was likely to be crowded, and several 
 ladies of his acquaintance to be present. The chairman 
 for the evening was an intimate friend of his, and Mr. 
 Fripp felt it incumbent on him to be present, or perhaps 
 after the affront he had received on the previous occasion, 
 he might not have gone at all. As it was, he determined 
 not only to go, but to grace the occasion as much as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 He had not proceeded a dozen yards on the road to- 
 wards the school-room, when he was overtaken by the car- 
 riage of Mr. Burnes, the chairman for the evening. It 
 was a fine starlight night, and Mr. Fripp being recognized, 
 was asked if he would ride instead of walk to the Readings, 
 which he graciously consented to do. Then when he came 
 to the school-room, he took his seat on the left hand of the 
 chairman, and looked round the room with that blandly 
 patronizing manner of his which made every one feel, on 
 whom his eyes rested, how good and gracious it was 
 of Strangeways Fripp, Esq., to come there to look at them ! 
 
 Mr. Burnes was a stout, pursy little man, with a florid 
 face, and carroty hair and whiskers, and a nose and chin 
 that reminded you, whenever he opened his mouth to 
 speak, of a pair of Swiss nut-crackers, they went up and 
 down with such a droll clip-clapper fashion. This was the 
 first time he had been chairman either here or anywhere 
 else, and he was very anxious to perform the office in 
 a creditable manner, and as, although he had lately made a 
 great deal of money and set ud his carriage, he was neithe; 
 
64 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 a gentleman nor a particularly well-educated man, he fell 
 into some sad blunders, which the critical ears of Mastej 
 Theodore Harley were very quick in detecting. That 
 young gentleman was in one of the front seats looking 
 calmly contemptuous of everything going on. There was 
 something deliciously supercilious in his attitude as he sat 
 with his arms folded, and his legs crossed. My belief is 
 that he thought every one in the room, including even the 
 rector, the chairman, and Strangeways Fripp, Esq., ought 
 to feel flattered by having a pupil of the South Middlesex 
 College amongst them. John and Bob were one on each 
 side of him, the former had obtained permission of his 
 mother to recite that evening, and had prevailed on Bob to 
 do so with him. The piece was " Lochiel and the Seer," 
 and John felt that in the Seer he should have a fine oppor- 
 tunity of showing the public how to suit the action to the 
 word, and the word to the action. He had had a great 
 deal of trouble with Bob ; first to get him to learn his part, 
 and then to recite it properly. Indeed, as soon as Bob had 
 mastered one line he forgot the one before it, and John 
 had to act Lochiel before him, to show what attitudes he 
 should assume. And now and then Bob got cross, and 
 declared the whole thing was such a bother he would give 
 it up altogether. Then John asked Ted if he would take 
 Bob's place, but Ted declined with scorn that was grand 
 to see. 
 
 " Of course it's not that I couldn't do it," he observed ; 
 " I should know the part when I'd read it three times 
 
JOHN'S NEW "MIXTURE." 65 
 
 over, hut our fellows think Penny Readings low, and if 
 they found out I'd recited at one, I should have no end of 
 chaff. You must make Thorley do it. Tell him you'll give 
 him a licking if he don't." 
 
 John would have been sorry to do that with Bob, he 
 had always been good friends with his cousin, and at last 
 he prevailed on him to try again, and study the part thor- 
 oughly. They had rehearsed it just before starting that 
 evening, and Bob seemed tolerably perfect in it, but he 
 brought the book with him to refresh his memory at the 
 last minute, "For," he said, "the worst of it is, as soon 
 as I put it in on one side of my head, it runs out on the 
 other." 
 
 Mr. Burnes opened the proceedings with some prefatory 
 remarks, in which he expressed his gratification at seeing 
 the room so full, and at the night being so fine. Then he 
 added that as very few of them were supplied with pro- 
 grammes, he would read out the list of the evening's per- 
 formances to them. This would have been all very well 
 if he had not added, that, " When we dine at a hotel we 
 like to look over the bi'l of fare, and see what is coming," 
 and he considered the same rule applied to the programme 
 of the evening's amusements. Now, as this observation 
 was addressed to an audience, the great majority of which 
 were working-men, to whom a slice of roast beef would 
 have been a banquet, and who were quite unable to form 
 the remotest conception of what a hotel dinner really 
 consisted, it was not perhaps in the very best taste ; but 
 S 
 
66 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 then Mr. Burnes had not long returned from a continental 
 tour, and liked people to know it. Master Theodore 
 smiled with ineffable scorn when he heard him ; " Precious 
 cad the fellow must be to talk like that ! " he whispered to 
 John ; " I suppose he wants us all to know he's had a good 
 dinner for once in his life." 
 
 Then some of the national school-boys stood up and 
 recited a short dramatic piece, and very well the little fel- 
 lows did it. Even Master Ted condescended to express 
 his approval by languidly clapping his hands, and the 
 chairman, who thought this a good opportunity of giving a 
 little judicious praise, observed that the performance put 
 him very much in mind of what he had heard of the dra 
 matic performances of the Westminster boys, which, how- 
 ever, he never as yet had the pleasure of witnessing. 
 
 This remark fell rather flat, as there were not perhaps 
 a dozen people in the audience who knew what the West- 
 minster performances were, while Ted, who did, observed, 
 " And I wonder if he would have understood a word of 
 them if he had. What does the fellow mean by making 
 such a donkey of himself! It's your turn now, Thorley. I 
 hope you haven't forgotten every word of your part." 
 
 " Don't bother," said Bob savagely, and followed John 
 on to the platform. Now, to make you understand 
 thoroughly what next took place, I must do what perhaps 
 I should have done sooner, describe the school-room and 
 the platform. The room was large, and hung, as school- 
 rooms mostly are, with maps. It was lit by naphtha, the 
 
JOHN'S NEW "MIXTURE." 6 J 
 
 smell of which was at times more powerful than pleasant, 
 and the seats were forms or Windsor chairs. The plat- 
 form was raised three feet from the ground, and there 
 were chairs on it for the rector, the chairman and Strange- 
 ways Fripp, Esq. On each side the room were windows, 
 and one overlooked the end of the platform, on which, the 
 night being cold, they had placed a small stove, and Mr, 
 Fripp, who sat nearest, had the full benefit of it, and en- 
 joyed it very much, toasting his feet as comfortably as if 
 he had been by his own fireside. He smiled encourag- 
 ingly to the boys as they stepped on the platform, and that 
 smile put everything out of poor Bob's head. 
 
 "Oh, dear; oh dear!" he thought, "if only he wasn't 
 there, I could get through it pretty well, and then there's 
 the rector and Mr. Burnes — a pretty go it'll be if I make a 
 mess of it before them all ! " 
 
 John began waving his hand, " Lochiel ! Lochiel ! be- 
 ware of the day," and on h^ went, not missing a word till 
 he had finished his first speech, in a voice that would have 
 filled even a larger room. 
 
 " No wonder that boy never knows his lessons," 
 thought the rector — who knew John very well, and had a 
 profound contempt for all poetry that was not two thou- 
 sand years old — " when he gives his mind to such stuff as 
 that," and it being now poor Bob's turn, he began in a 
 very feeble voice — 
 
 " Go preach to the coward, thou death-telling seer." 
 
 " That's one line," thought Bob, " and I know there's 
 
68 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 three more, but I haven't the least notion what they are.* 
 Mr. Norton, who had Campbell's Works open at the poem, 
 softly prompted him, and Bob stammered through the 
 other lines ; then John began with renewed energy — 
 " Ha! laugh'st thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn! " 
 And he advanced nearer to Bob, waving his arm in a 
 threatening manner, which poor Bob imagined was meant 
 for him in propria persona, and not in his character of 
 Lochiel. " He promised me a licking if I didn't know my 
 part," he thought, ruefully, " and I suppose he'll keep his 
 word," but in fact John was only carrying out his own 
 " ideas " of recitation, and declaiming, as he thought, with 
 proper dramatic force. However, he frightened every word 
 of poor Bob's speech out of his head, and when he had con- 
 cluded his own, Bob stood mute, with open mouth, looking 
 vacantly round as if to see whether he could find his part 
 written on the walls. Mr. Norton softly prompted him, 
 and Bob, stooping forward, repeated eveiy word after him, 
 which made his performance of rather a monotonous char- 
 acter, especially as not a line he said could be heard by 
 one-half the audience. The rector, at the very begin- 
 ning of his speech, had closed his eyes, and the soothing 
 tone of Mr. Norton's low voice, and Bob's scarcely louder 
 repetition of what he read, sent him off into a nap, and 
 when Bob concluded with, " All plaided and plumed in 
 their Tartan array," a very audible snore was heard, which 
 evidently proceeded from the rector. 
 
 Uncle George was amongst the audience, and so was 
 
JOHN'S NEW "MIXTURE." 69 
 
 John's mother. She felt very sorry for Bob, and very 
 proud of her own boy. " How well he does it, don't he ? " 
 she whispered to her brother. " What a pity poor dear 
 Bob hasn't a little of John's ability ! " 
 
 " What a muff that fellow Thorley is," thought Ted ; " I 
 know if he were my cousin, I'd teach him not to make such 
 a spoon of himself. It would only be common kindness to 
 give him a licking, just to teach him not to make such a 
 muff of himself again." 
 
 John went nearer to Bob, and similar thoughts to those 
 Ted entertained were passing through his mind. " I'll 
 pay you out for this as soon as we're outside," he said 
 sotto voce. Then he raised his voice, and thundered 
 forth — 
 
 " Lochiel, Lochiel ! beware of the day ! " 
 
 " I expect I shall catch it," thought Bob, " and I know 
 John can lick me if he likes. He's getting into a regular 
 wax ; I do believe he means to pay me out before them all." 
 
 It really looked like it. John was getting full of the 
 spirit of his part, and sending forth the wizard's prophecies 
 with a force and energy that startled every one in the 
 room, excepting the rector, who, good old gentleman, had 
 had a hard day's work visiting his parishioners at the fur- 
 thest ends of the village, and had really earned the slumber 
 he was now enjoying. John pressed closer and closer on 
 his cousin, who retreated before him. " I know I shall hit 
 back if he hits me," thought Bob, " and a nice thing it'll 
 b-2 to have a fight on the platform.''' 
 
70 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 " Rise, rise ! ye wild tempests," shouted John, and took 
 another stride which would have brought him in contact 
 with Bob, had not the latter sprung back, feeling thor- 
 oughly frightened, with such a bound that his head dashed 
 through one of the panes of the window which was behind 
 him, and then Bob, finding himself cut by the glass, and 
 no possibility of further retreat, shouted out — 
 
 " Don't get in such a wax, John ! Ton my word, I'll 
 learn it better another time." 
 
 This " brought down the house," as they say at the 
 theatres. Ted set the example by clapping his hands, and 
 shouting " Bravo ! " and as those near him could not help 
 laughing at poor Bob's predicament, the people in the back 
 seats thought they were justified in doing so too. When- 
 ever the aristocrats in the threepenny seats applauded, the 
 working-folks in the penny places always followed suit, and 
 they clapped their hands and shouted " Encore," and al- 
 most shrieked with mirth, just as if poor Bob had broken 
 the window with his head on purpose to please them. 
 
 The window-panes were very small, and poor Bob 
 found himself, as he expressed it, in a precious fix. He 
 was afraid to move, for fear of cutting himself worse, til 
 Mr. Norton came to his rescue, and gently extricated him. 
 The rector was roused by the uproar, and opening his 
 eyes, looked wonderingly about him. Then he saw Bob's 
 position, and thought at first, with the audience on the 
 back seats, that it was part of the performance. 
 
 " And a very reprehensible part, too," the old gentle- 
 
JOHN'S NEW "MIXTURE." 71 
 
 man observed to Mr. Burnes, and was about to tell Bob as 
 much when that luckless boy burst into tears ; " Please, 
 sir, I didn't mean to do it, and if I'm to pay for the win- 
 dow, who's to pay for the sticking-plaster for my head ? " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, stupid ! " said John ; " Uncle will 
 make it all right about the window. Just wipe your face, 
 and come and say what you've got to say properly. I 
 never knew such a mess as you've made of the whole thing." 
 
 " Mess, indeed ! I think I'm in one," cried Bob, piti- 
 fully ; " I couldn't say a word more if it was ever so." 
 
 Mr. Norton settled the matter by taking Bob into the 
 class-room, where he bathed his head, and John's mother 
 came there and inspected his wounds, which were not very 
 serious, and were soon set to rights by a little sticking- 
 plaster, which she sent out for. Then Bob resumed his 
 seat amongst the audience, and the performances went 
 on as before, till Mr. Fripp rose to return thanks to the 
 chairman for his services that evening. 
 
 He was some time doing so, as he brought in several 
 other matters, amongst them an allusion to the unfortunate 
 accident that had occurred that evening — the first time 
 anything of the kind had alloyed the pleasure which the 
 Readings afforded. He thought of his own boots, but he 
 was not going to stand there and tell people a joke had 
 been played upon him, and he concluded by saying, " We 
 will now wind up the evening's amusement by singing 
 1 God Save the Queen.' " 
 
 On came the boys, and Mr. Fripp as usual saw tha* 
 
/2 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 they were orderly and quiet. He was about to turn to go 
 to the back of the platform, when he felt himself fixed to 
 the spot where he stood. He colored up to his very tem' 
 pies. Had any one dared to play a fresh trick upon him ; 
 and yet how was it possible that anything could hold him 
 there against his will ? He tried to lift his foot again, but it 
 was useless, and there he stood immovable, while the boys 
 were lifting up their voices all around him. He waited till 
 they had finished, and then tried again, this time with more 
 success, for he raised his foot at last with such a sudden 
 jerk that he almost fell backwards into the arms of Mr. 
 Burnes, who had just come forward to see if he was ill. In- 
 deed, every one was stopping to look at Mr. Fripp, feeling 
 that something ailed him, and there he stood on the front 
 of the platform with one foot free, but the other gummed 
 as it were immovably to the ground. It was trying to 
 Mr. Fripp's dignity — it was even more so than it had been 
 on the night when his boots were stolen — every one was 
 looking concerned, as if they felt he must be ill to stand 
 like this, and better that they should think him ill than the 
 victim of a joke. Joke, indeed ! what would they not be 
 capable of who played a joke on Strangeways Fripp, Esq. 
 But how was he to get away ? And how explain the 
 very awkward position he was in without being laughed 
 at ? And when Mr. Fripp thought of his being laughed at, 
 he felt as if the world must be coming to an end. He had 
 never been laughed at in his life. Even his nurse, when 
 he ran about in short petticoats and bare legs, would nol 
 
JOHN'S NEW "MIXTURE." 73 
 
 have taken such a liberty, and were all these boys — con- 
 found the little brats ! — and working-men — hang the stupid 
 clod-hoppers ! — and his own friends — friends ! they were 
 always the first to make fun of any unfortunate ! and ladies 
 — there was nothing like woman for giggling — to turn him 
 into ridicule now ? Mr. Fripp's forehead became bathed in 
 perspiration at the bare idea, and again he tried to lift his 
 foot, but the glue on that must have been more thoroughly 
 melted than on the other, for he found the effort useless. 
 
 " I'm afraid you're ill," said Mr. Burnes ; " let me take 
 you away." 
 
 " It's nothing," replied Mr. Fripp, " only a little faintness 
 with the heat ; clear the room, and it will pass." 
 
 People were very slow, however, about going. They 
 seemed to take a perverse pleasure in looking at Mr. Fripp, 
 and at last, tired of standing there, he made one desperate 
 effort to get loose, and succeeded in freeing his foot, but at 
 a terrible sacrifice of his personal dignity. Down he fell in 
 a sitting position on the platform, the violent jerk with 
 which he had wrenched his foot from the boards throwing 
 him completely off his equilibrium, and while Mr. Burnes, 
 the rector, and Mr. Norton rushed towards him, thinking 
 he was either deranged or seized with a stroke of apoplexy, 
 a roar of applause and laughter burst from the lower por- 
 tion of the audience, who actually had the presumption to 
 imagine that Strangeways Fripp, Esq., was a fit subject for 
 merriment. He stared around him for a moment, totally 
 overcome, not only by the fall, but by the sensation it had 
 
74 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 created, and then got up and walked off the platform witn 
 as much dignity as the boots (^ which at every step kept 
 sticking to the ground, as if loath to leave it) would per- 
 mit him, mentally vowing that those unlucky articles should 
 nevei be worn by him again. 
 
 " What on earth's the matter with old Fripp ? " said Ted, 
 with shocking irreverence, to his friends. Mr. Gubbins, 
 who was standing by, heard the question, and whispered 
 mysteriously to John, " It's all along o' your ' mixture,' Mas- 
 ter Ashdell." 
 
 " My ' mixture ' ! " cried John, in amaze ; " what's that 
 got to do with it ? " 
 
 " A deal more than you think for," replied Mr. Gubbins 
 in the same subdued tone. " When it's hot it sticks like 
 wax ! That's what kept Mr. Fripp fixed there." 
 
 "You don't say so!" cried Ted. "John, I shall begin 
 to believe in your ' mixture ' after all. To think of it serv- 
 ing old Fripp out like that ! Do let me have a bottle to 
 take back to school. I'll pay for all the stuff costs. I 
 should so like to try it on some of the masters." 
 
 " No, I don't like my experiments turned into jokes," 
 said John, seriously, " and as this don't seem quite the thing 
 for boots on account of its stickiness when warm, I sha'n't 
 take out a patent for it as I thought of doing. But I've an 
 ' idea' it'll make capital cement for china, and I'll find all 
 the broken bits I can at home and stick them together with 
 it. I don't know but that move will pay better than the 
 other. ' Crystalline Cement' I shall call it now. I tell you 
 
JOHN'S NEW "MIXTURE." 75 
 
 what, you fellows, I ought to make my fortune by it, and 
 when I do I'll send old Fripp an anonymous present of a 
 new pair of Wellingtons, to make up for the fix he's got 
 into to-night" 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 john's "rational investment" of half-a-crown. 
 how to board a calf. 
 
 ~T HAVE spoken of Uncle George's cow, — a very nice, 
 -*- useful creature she was, giving splendid milk, and plenty 
 of it. After a time madam cow had a calf, which Uncle 
 George told Tim to dispose of as soon as possible to the 
 best bidder. Being an Alderney it was not worth much to 
 the butcher, but to any one who had a cow to act as wet- 
 nurse, it would be likely to prove a valuable animal. But 
 no one in the village seemed just then in want of a calf, and 
 Tim at last put it into his cart with the intention of driving 
 down as far as Old Cross, in the hope of finding a buyer 
 for the little creature there. He had not gone far before 
 he met with Joseph Dale, an acquaintance and near neigh- 
 bor of his Joseph had been to St. Maur, buying some 
 bargains, and was returning home very well pleased with 
 some wonderfully cheap kettles, and a famous lot of crock- 
 ery he had secured, to use his own words, " for next to 
 nothing." Mr. Dale bought everything — pots, pans, rags, 
 bones, old chairs, broken-legged tables, worn-out bedsteads. 
 
JOHN'S "RATIONAL INVESTMENT." 77 
 
 waste paper, old iron — let it be what it might, nothing came 
 amiss to Mr. Dale. He did not keep a shop, but lived in 
 a little cottage that he had built for himself on a small plot 
 of land, which had been one of his bargains, and the front 
 garden now and then, when he had anything especially at- 
 tractive to dispose of, served as an open-air show-room. He 
 had a perfect mania for buying, and never liked to let any- 
 thing slip through his fingers that he could possibly see a 
 chance of disposing of again. Let it be what it might, he 
 was sure, he would say, to turn a penny over by it in 
 time. 
 
 Tim was perfectly aware that Dale bought almost every- 
 thing that could be bought, but it certainly never occurred 
 to him that he would buy a calf, and he was passing his 
 acquaintance with a nod and a " good-day," when the other 
 stopped him, and inquired where he was going to take the 
 calf, and what he wanted for it. 
 
 " To Old Cross, and it ought to fetch a guinea," replied 
 Tim. " It's worth two to any one that has got a cow to 
 take it." 
 
 Mr. Dale looked at the calf, poked its ribs, peered into 
 its eyes, felt its legs, and would have opened its mouth 
 only it was muzzled, then he said to Tim, " If you like tc 
 take ten shillings I'll give it ye for the creature." 
 
 Tim shook his head. " It's worth twice that, but say 
 iwelve-and-six, and you shall have it." 
 
 Mr. Dale hesitated a little ; at last the bargain was con- 
 cluded at twelve shillings, and Tim, very well pleased with 
 
/8 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 having found a customer for the calf, went home with the 
 money to his mistress. 
 
 " Whatever Dale will do with the creature is more than 
 I can tell," he thought ; "he'll have to bring it up by hand. 
 A nice treat that for his wife ! It'll be as much plague as 
 a couple of babies ; however, that's her affair, not mine. It's 
 a chance if I should have got more than ten shillings for it 
 at Old Cross if I'd carried it down there." 
 
 Tim was reminded by his mistress that he had still to go 
 to Old Cross, as the family were in want of potatoes, and 
 he had been charged to bring home a sack. There was a 
 little delay in starting, as a customer came in, and his mas- 
 ter being out, Tim had to attend to him ; then just as he 
 was about to go, John came running up, and asked Tim if 
 he was going to Old Cross, intimating that if he was he 
 should like to go with him, there being a holiday at school, 
 ;md Master John having nothing particular to amuse him- 
 relf with. 
 
 Tim demurred a little ; he had got into such trouble on 
 the last occasion that he took John with him to Old Cross^ 
 that he was not very anxious to have his company now ; but 
 John was urgent ; he had had half-a-crown given him by an 
 uncle from London, and he wanted to spend it. John was 
 one of those boys — there are a great many of them, by-the- 
 bye — whose money always seems to be burning a hole in 
 their pockets, and, it being market-day, he had, as he told. 
 Tim, an " idea" that he could do something better with this 
 half-crown than lay it out in either tops or toffee. At last 
 
JOHN'S "RATIONAL INVESTMENT." 79 
 
 Tim consented, and John got into the cart, and started ofl 
 in high glee for Old Cross. 
 
 " It's such nonsense of fellows throwing money away, 
 Tim, on a pack of rubbish that only makes them sick ; 
 that's what I've been telling Bob. Now, it's not very often 
 I have the luck to get a whole half-crown, and I'm deter- 
 mined to do something sensible with this. How are pigs 
 going now, Tim ? asked John, with the air of a farmer 
 contemplating an addition to his stock. 
 
 " They're almost being given away, barley-meal's so 
 lear ; but I don't think you'll be able to buy one for half-a- 
 crown, and if you did get it for that, how would you fatten 
 it. Master John? Boil nettles or cook dead leaves for it, eh ? 
 What a pity, now, you did not try your hand on the calf 
 I've just been selling! only I would not have let it go for 
 half-a-crown. Dale's bought it — gave me twelve shillings 
 for it ; how he'll bring it up I'm sure I can't tell. Perhaps, 
 Master John, you can go and teach him ; may be you'll be 
 as clever at that as soling boots, or driving pigs from 
 market." 
 
 John pretended not to hear this remark of Tim's, but 
 it had the effect of silencing him till they reached Old 
 Cross, when, leaving Tim to buy his potatoes, he went 
 strolling round the market with his hands in his pock- 
 ets, looking out for a safe investment for his half- 
 crown. 
 
 " I should have liked to have had that calf," he said ; 
 " I've my own notion that something might be done with 
 
8o THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 it. But that Dale is sure to make a mess of the thing ; 
 whatever should a man that deals in rags and bones know 
 about live stock ? Hallo ! there he is, and the calf, I do 
 believe, with him ! " 
 
 It really was so. There stood Mr. Dale with the calf in 
 his cart, and he appeared to be looking out for a purchaser. 
 He had taken it home, and Mrs. Dale was furious at the 
 sight of his bargain when he showed it to her. What was 
 she to do with it ? she asked. Hadn't she half-a-dozen 
 children to see to, and two of them scarcely able to run 
 alone, and what was she to do with a creature that would be 
 ten times the trouble of a baby, and how on earth could she 
 afford to bring it up with milk at fivepence a quart ? The 
 end of it all was that Mr. Dale had to put the calf in the 
 cart, and take it to Old Cross, and there he stood now, 
 hoping that some one would take it off his hands. He was 
 quite willing to dispose of it for a much lower price than he 
 had paid ; but time went on, and he began to doubt whether 
 he should not have to take the calf back again, in which 
 case he knew not how he should face his wife. 
 
 Tim had bought his potatoes, and came up to Mr. 
 Dale. 
 
 " You're in a hurry to make a penny by your bargain 
 Had many bidders ?" 
 
 Dale shook his head. " My missis don't like the 
 trouble of bringing up the creature. If you'll take it 
 back I'm willing to lose half-a-crown upon it." 
 
 " Thank ye," said Tim, " I'm very well content to let 
 
JOHN'S "RATIONAL INVESTMENT:' 8 1 
 
 matters stand as they are. My master told me to sell a 
 calf, and not to bring one back, and I don't know what 
 he'd say to me if I did." 
 
 'And I don't know what my missis will say to me if I 
 don't get rid of this creature," replied Dale ruefully. 
 " Couldn't you take it back at five shillings, Tim ?" 
 
 " It won't do to take it back at all," replied Tim ; " a 
 sack of potatoes was all I was told to carry home from Old 
 Cross. Come, Master John, it's time we were getting 
 home." 
 
 " I'd rather stay a little longer here and walk," replied 
 John, turning his half-crown over in his pocket. " I'm in 
 no hurry, Tim ; besides, I haven't spent my money yet." 
 
 " See if Dale will let you have his calf for it," cried 
 Tim, driving off. 
 
 John looked at the calf. It was a very pretty creature. 
 He stroked its head, and examined it much in the same 
 manner that Mr. Dale had done, and then said, " Now 
 what is the lowest, the very lowest, that you'll take for it ? " 
 
 " Well, it's worth five times the money, but we'll say 
 four-and-six for it," replied Dale. " It's only on account 
 of my missis, or I'd never let it go for that." 
 
 " I'll give you half-a-crown, and it's all I've got," said 
 John ; " if you like to take that, and drive me back to 
 Shedley along with the calf, I'll say done." 
 
 " So will I," said Mr. Dale ; " I daren't face my missis 
 with the creature. Jump in, for its time I was back to 
 dinner." 
 
 6 
 
82 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 Mr. Dale drove John up to the door of his mother's 
 house, then he lowered the calf very carefully, and John, 
 half leading, half carrying the animal, went straight to the 
 kitchen where Martha was just preparing to dish up the 
 dinner. 
 
 " Goodness me, Master John, whatever have you got 
 there ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " It's a calf," said John, gravely ; but Martha might 
 have seen that for herself. " And I want you to help me 
 bring it up by hand ; I've got an ' idea." 
 
 " Oh, dear me, Master John, don't talk of your ' ideas ; ' 
 whenever you do I know there'll be some mischief come 
 of it. Take this creature away. Lor' a'mercy ! if it isn't 
 a drinking of the melted butter ! Now it's got its foot 
 in the bread-pan, Master John ! If you don't take it away 
 directly, I'll put on my bonnet and leave the place, long as 
 I've been in it. I never engaged to serve in a cowhouse." 
 
 The calf had upset the butter-boat, and was trying to 
 lap up the fluid, which scalded its nose, and one of its feet 
 was in the dough, which was rising near the fire. It look- 
 ed round feebly and helplessly as if seeking for its mother, 
 and wondering what strange chance had brought it into 
 such a place. John picked up the butter-boat, took the 
 calfs foot out of the dough, and wiped its nose with his 
 handkerchief; then he said to Martha — 
 
 " Now, it's no good getting into a wax ; we must make 
 this creature comfortable now we've got it. Let's put it in 
 the wood- house. There's plenty of room for it there, and 
 
JOHN'S "RATIONAL INVESTMENT." 83 
 
 after dinner I'll come and cook its food. No, Martha, you 
 needn't look like that ; you can't get its food ready. You 
 don't suppose I'd trust you with it. You're all very well 
 in your way — and those dumplings look first-rate — but as 
 to doing anything beyond getting the saucepan ready for 
 me to make the calf s broth in, and stirring it while I'm 
 cooking, I really don't think, Martha, you're compe- 
 tent." 
 
 " Get out of my kitchen, do ! " cried Martha, highly in- 
 censed at John's estimate of her capabilities ; " and take 
 that rubbishing calf along with you. There's Master Bob 
 come to see you, and I know he wants his dinner ; you've 
 kept him waiting long enough, with your nonsense. Missis 
 has gone to her mother's to stop the day ; and I don't know 
 what she'll say when she hears of this last new piece o' non- 
 sense. But there ! " muttered Martha, in a lower tone, " she 
 does spoil Master John at that rate, that it's no wonder the 
 boy never knows what mischief to be up to." 
 
 John ran out to speak to his cousin, who was wanting 
 his dinner, and wondering how long it would be before it 
 was ready. Mrs. Ashdell had asked him to dinner, and 
 to spend the afternoon with John, who would be dull, poor 
 dear, if he were left all alone by himself, while she was 
 away at her mother's. The old lady had been taken sud- 
 denly ill, and Mrs. Ashdell was not certain when she would 
 return, and had been pleased that John should have his 
 cousin with him on his holiday, as she was obliged to be 
 away herself. 
 
84 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 " I've got the biggest bargain I ever bought in my life," 
 cried John ; " just you come and see him, Bob." 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Bob ; " a lop-eared rabbit ? " 
 
 "Rabbit!" cried John, contemptuously; "as if I'd 
 throw my money away upon that ! When I've got a sum 
 to lay out I like to do something sensible with it." 
 
 " Pouter pigeons, then ? " asked Bob. " I saw a stun- 
 ning pair the last time I was at Old Cross. I'd have asked 
 the price, only I hadn't got any tin. Or is it guinea-pigs ? " 
 
 " If you ain't the greatest flat, Bob, that ever was. 
 What should I want with guinea-pigs ? There's no eating 
 them, and they ain't productive in other ways ; and as to 
 pigeons, they ruin one in peas. No, I've laid my money 
 out in a rational manner this time : I've bought Uncle 
 George's calf." 
 
 " His what ? " asked Bob, with wide open eyes. 
 
 " His calf, stupid ! Come along with me, and I'll show 
 it to you, and you may help me put it away in the wood- 
 house ; it's in the kitchen now. Martha was in a precious 
 fume when she saw it ; but women never can be brought 
 to see the sense of anything. Come along, do ! Just hear 
 how she's going on at the poor creature ! But we must 
 smooth her down a bit ; I shall want her to let me have 
 the saucepan on after dinner, to cook its food in." 
 
 " Oatmeal and skim-milk, I suppose ? " asked Bob. 
 " That's what I've heard Uncle George talk of bringing a 
 calf up upon." 
 
 " You'll see," replied John, with a significant nod 
 
JOHN'S "RATIONAL INVESTMENT." 85 
 
 1 That's not the way I'm going to feed my calf. I've an 
 ' idea ' you may do it much cheaper than that. But you 
 stop here, Bob, after dinner, and I'll let you help me." 
 
 The poor frightened calf was taken into the wood- 
 house, and made as comfortable as circumstances permit- 
 ed, after which Bob and John came to dinner, to which, 
 though by this time it was nearly cold, they did ample jus- 
 tice. As soon as it was over, John said, " Now young 
 one, we've got to see about that calf; we'll go at once to 
 Uncle George's timber-yard, and get the stuff for its broth." 
 
 " He don't keep oatmeal there," cried Bob. 
 
 " Who said he did, stupid ? Did I ever say I was going 
 to give my calf such expensive stuff? I want to make it 
 pay, which is a deal more than I should if I brought it up 
 upon oatmeal. I've got an ' idea ' that the right thing is 
 sawdust." 
 
 " Sawdust ! " cried Bob, opening his eyes wider than 
 ever." 
 
 " Yes, sawdust ; now what is there to stare at ? I've 
 been studying the chemistry of cooking lately ; directing 
 my attention to the concentration of nutritive substances." 
 John had been getting up some hard words lately, and they 
 impressed Bob wonderfully. " Now it stands to reason, 
 don't it, that milk must be the very essence of vegetable 
 matter — just as good strong beef tea is of beef?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Bob ; " but sawdust isn't milk." 
 
 " Who said it was, ignoramus ? but don't a tree draw 
 its nourishment from the earth just as the grass does, 
 
86 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 which feeds the cow that gives the milk. Wtil, isn't the 
 wood of the tree its very essence ? and don't the sawdust, 
 which so many people throw away as if it was good for 
 nothing, come from the wood, and if, by any chemical pro- 
 cess, you can get the goodness out of that to feed the calf 
 with, don't you get something analogous to, or closely re- 
 sembling, the milk, which is the calf's natural food, only at 
 a much less expense? Tell me that now, don't you see 
 the thing as I put it, Bob ? " 
 
 "Well, I don't know," replied Bob, doubtfully; "I 
 shouldn't say it was very fattening, and won't it stick in the 
 creature's throat ? It must be rather choky stuff, you 
 know, to swallow." 
 
 " Of course it would be if you gave it raw," replied 
 John, smiling superciliously at Bob's ignorance. " But 
 who's going to do that? I shall boil it down." 
 
 " Make it into pap ? " asked Bob. 
 
 " Pap ? No ! It's milk I want. I shall extract the es- 
 sence by a slow process of maceration — that's to say, boil- 
 ing in a saucepan, if I can get Martha to lend me one — 
 strain it off and give the decoction to the calf. It's only an 
 experiment, but it's safe to succeed, and if it does I shall 
 take out a patent. I think I shall call it Aqua lignea. I 
 ought to make my fortune by it, for I'm convinced, Bob, 
 that a pint of this, and a slice of bread, would give a fel- 
 low a better dinner than all the roast meat and dumplings 
 we've just been having. I don't say it would taste just as 
 well." 
 
JOHN'S "RATIONAL INVESTMENT." 87 
 
 " I shouldn't think it would," observed Bob, looking 
 anything but pleased at the prospect of sawdust broth and 
 bread for dinner. 
 
 " But it would be quite as satisfying, and a great deal 
 cheaper. Only think what a saving to families ! It's my 
 opinion I ought to be knighted, Bob, for making such a 
 discovery. If Parliament does its duty I shall be, too ; but 
 I'm afraid I shall have some trouble in bringing them to 
 see the sense of the thing." 
 
 " I'm afraid so, too," replied Bob. 
 
 " But, come along, now, and let's get the sawdust. 
 I'm sure that poor thing must be half-starved by this time." 
 
 The two boys took a couple of cans with them, and 
 proceeded to Uncle George's timber-yard. They filled 
 them with sawdust, and then returned to John's home, 
 where, after some persuasion, they induced Martha to lend 
 them her largest saucepan for the purpose of boiling the 
 sawdust in. She had done her work for the day, and now 
 sat and watched them while they proceeded with their 
 cookery, refusing, however, to have anything to do with it 
 herself. John was a long time about it. " The process of 
 maceration," he informed Bob, " was necessarily slow," 
 and he wished to extract from the sawdust the full amount 
 of nourishment it contained. 
 
 " It won't take long boiling to do that," said Martha, 
 significantly ; " for all the good it'll do the calf, you might 
 as well give it the water without the sawdust in it, Master 
 John." 
 
88 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 " Don't mind her nonsense, Bob, but stir awav," said 
 John ; " there never is any beating things into women. 
 If you'd studied chemistry, Martha, which of course you 
 haven't — " 
 
 " No, Master John, and for all the good your studying 
 such like does you, I should say the less I had to do with 
 it the better. Mercy me ! the mess your making my 
 clean k'tchen in ! I think you had better ask missis to 
 let you have the copper to yourselves next time, and make 
 your messes in the wash-house." 
 
 " That's a very good notion," replied John, gravely ; " a 
 copper is a much better thing to macerate in than a 
 saucepan. But I think this will do now, Bob ; let's turn 
 it out, and go and feed the creature." 
 
 " Much the better it'll be for it ! " said Martha, as John 
 and Bob proceeded to the wood-house. 
 
 They had a little difficulty in persuading the calf to 
 take its strange food, but at last they succeeded in getting 
 it to swallow some, and leaving the rest for it to take when 
 it pleased, they returned to the fire, and amused them- 
 selves the rest of the day with roasting chestnuts and 
 telling riddles. 
 
 Mrs. Ashdell did not return home till John was in bed. 
 Her mother was subject to sudden attacks of indisposition 
 which generally passed away without alarming any one — 
 sven herself — but this had been more serious, and the 
 doctor had been called in, and was to come again the next 
 day. However, towards night the old lady felt so much 
 
JOHN'S "RATIONAL INVESTMENT." 89 
 
 better that Mrs. Ashdell thought she might leave her with 
 safety, and come home with the intention of returning 
 to her mother's house the first thing the next morning. 
 
 She was so tired with her day's nursing and anxiety, 
 that she was proceeding at once to bed when Martha 
 informed her, with a very anxious face, that " Master John 
 had been up to some of his tricks again." 
 
 "Well, I don't suppose they're very bad ones," said 
 Mrs. Ashdell, fretfully ; and you can tell me about them 
 another time, Martha." 
 
 " Yes, but you ought to know of this at once, ma'am ; 
 I don't hold with tampering and petting dumb creatures 
 as if they was so many Christians ; still, I don't like to see 
 a thing killed by inches under one's very nose, as it were." 
 
 " John wouldn't kill anything," said Mrs. Ashdell ; he's 
 the kindest-hearted boy — " 
 
 " Yes, but there's killing with kindness," retorted 
 Martha, who had been quite long enough with her mistress 
 to take the liberty of contradicting her occasionally ; not 
 but what starving's funny kindness, and if it isn't starving 
 a creature to keep it on sawdust and water, I don't know 
 what is." 
 
 " Whatever are you talking about, Martha ? " said Mrs. 
 Ashdell ; " I wish you'd tell me what you mean and let rae 
 go to bed." 
 
 "Well, then, ma'am, Master John's trying to bring up 
 a calf by hand upon broth made out of sawdust, and if that 
 .sn't starving I should like to know what is." 
 
90 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 " Dear me, what a strange notion for the boy to take 
 into his head ; wherever could he have got that from ! 
 Well, Martha, I can't talk any more about it now, I really 
 am so tired. You must look after the poor creature 
 yourself, and if Master John won't give it anything but 
 sawdust broth, you must. We can't have it starved, of 
 course ; that would be too shocking. There, do let me go 
 to bed now and call me early in the morning. I must 
 be at Mrs. Thome's the first thing, and I'll talk to Master 
 John about the calf when I've time, and you must look 
 after it till I have." 
 
 Martha would have expostulated with her mistress 
 on the ground that she had never undertaken to act as 
 dry-nurse to a calf, but she looked at Mrs. Ashdell and 
 saw she was tired out, and therefore carried up her candle- 
 stick and helped her mistress into bed, much as she had 
 done for Master John years ago, when he was a small boy, 
 and, as she would have told you, not half the plague he 
 was now, with his whims and his nonsense and his ever- 
 lasting " ideas." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HOW THE CALF ASTONISHED SEVERAL PEOPLE, AND 
 MARTHA ASTONISHED THEM STILL MORE. 
 
 r T" > HE calf did not make quite so much progress as John 
 -*" had expected it would do. In fact it grew decidedly 
 thin ; thinner and thinner every day. John did not like 
 altering his treatment of it, and thus owning that he had 
 been mistaken in adopting it, but still he began to think 
 that if things went on like this, he must adopt some other 
 diet for the calf or else he should lose it altogethei He 
 brought Bob to see it, and Bob gave it as his opini a that 
 "it was in a bad way, and didn't seem to get on \ th the 
 sawdust no how." Ted even condescended to look in, 
 and he agreed with Bob ; therefore, with some t eluctance, 
 John made up his mind the next morning to gi^e the poor 
 creature a little milk. 
 
 He could not bear to tell Martha the resolution at 
 which he had arrived. " It would make her more con- 
 ceited than ever," he said to himself, " and she was always 
 going on now as if there was nobody in the world had got 
 brains but herself." His mother had said nothing to 1 lin 
 
92 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 about the calf as yet, her whole time and thoughts being 
 taken up with Mrs. Thorne, who, though in no danger, 
 still required great care and attention. But Martha had 
 been very annoying in her questions respecting the 
 calfs welfare, and her speculations as to what it would 
 weigh by the end of the week ; therefore, John was deter- 
 mined that if he had to bring up his calf" upon milk instead 
 of sawdust broth, Martha should know nothing of the 
 change. He got up early the next morning and pro- 
 ceeded to a farm at some distance, where he obtained 
 a bottle full of milk, and came back home with the inten- 
 tion of giving it to the calf as soon as breakfast was over. 
 " It will take all my pocket-money, and a sight more than 
 I'm ever likely to get," he thought, as he proceeded to the 
 wood-house, " if this creature goes on like this ; I must 
 get rid of it, if it won't take the sawdust." 
 
 The calf was looking much better this morning, some of 
 the sawdust broth, which John had left in a pail near it, was 
 gone, and when he offered the milk, it refused to take any 
 
 " It's taken to the broth at last ! " cried John, triumph- 
 antly ; " got used to the taste of it, and likes it better 
 than milk. I'll make sure, however, and try it again ; I'll 
 put this milk in a cool place and give it to the little crea- 
 ture again when I come home from school. I begin to 
 have some hopes of it now. I've evidently overcome its 
 natural inclinations, whic.i of course must have been in 
 favor of the milk. That's the first great step ; all the rest 
 will be easy work enough." 
 
JOHN'S "RATIONAL INVESTAIENT." 93 
 
 He went to school and told Bob he thought the calf was 
 doing better. Bob walked home with him, when school 
 was over, to see it, and was of the same opinion, indeed, 
 he declared it had got fatter since last night. More of the 
 sawdust broth had gone from the pail, and the calf again 
 refused to partake of the milk which John offered it 
 There was no doubt whatever, both Bob and he agreed, 
 that it had learned to prefer the artificial food to the 
 natural. Not that Bob used such long words, he simply 
 echoed John's, without troubling himself very much as to 
 whether he understood their meaning or not. 
 
 " I shall want to make some more of it this evening,* 
 said John ; " will you come and help me, Bob ? " 
 
 Bob was quite willing, and as John said that all the 
 goodness must have gone out of the last sawdust they had 
 boiled, they went to Uncle George's timber-yard for some 
 more as soon as afternoon school was finished, and after 
 tea proceeded to their cooking. 
 
 Martha was very good-tempered this time, and lent 
 them the saucepan and strainer without any demur, and 
 even when John came after a third visit to his calf, and told 
 her it was getting on famously, and would not touch the 
 skim-milk which he had again offered it, and that it had 
 quite emptied its pan of broth, she made no further mani- 
 festation of incredulity than a slight cough and a " La, 
 now ! wonders will never end. I'd go and tell all the farm- 
 ers in the parish if I was you, Master John, of your new 
 way of bringing up calves. What a saving it'll make in 
 
94 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 milk and butter if they'll only try your new fashion ! And 
 won't sawdust go up ? My ! I should think your uncle 
 ought to make his fortune as well as you at this rate, Mas 
 ter John." 
 
 John was not quite sure whether Martha was in jest 01 
 earnest. There was a peculiar twinkle in her eyes, and a 
 curious smile about the corners of her mouth, but still she 
 was behaving in a much more agreeable manner than she 
 was in the habit of doing when Master John was carrying 
 out any of his notions, and there was no doubt that the calf 
 was progressing well ; so well that John thought that if it 
 went on like this he would bring his uncle to see how well 
 it was thriving under his new mode of treatment. 
 
 A whole week went on and still the calf was thriving ; 
 getting as stout and strong as if it had never left its moth- 
 er. John's exultation knew no bounds ; he brought Ted 
 two or three times to see it, and even that superb young 
 gentleman condescended to say he thought there must be 
 something in it after all, though how there could be 
 any goodness in sawdust was more than he could 
 imagine. 
 
 John waited a week more before he proclaimed his suc- 
 cess too openly, and then he could contain himself no 
 longer, but went to see his uncle, and told him of the 
 success of his experiment. 
 
 " You've fatted a calf with sawdust ! " said Uncle 
 George, looking incredulously at John. 
 
 " Haven't I ! " replied John. " Just you come and see 
 
JOHN'S "RATIONAL INVESTMENT." 95 
 
 him. He looks as well as ever a calf did, I can tell you, 
 uncle." 
 
 " But you do fit mean to tell me that he eats sawdust ?' 
 asked Uncle George. 
 
 " Bolts it like winkey," was the reply. " Well, not 
 exactly the sawdust, but the water it's boiled in. It's a 
 maceration, uncle, a process by which I obtain all the 
 nutriment of the vegetable matter contained in the very 
 pith of the tree." 
 
 " There, there, John ! that'll do," said Uncle George, 
 impatiently ; " I don't understand one half you say, but 
 it'll be a long time before you'll get me to believe that 
 anything ever yet was nourished by sawdust. I'll come 
 and see the poor creature though, before you've killed it 
 outright, and the sooner the better, for it can't last long at 
 this rate. A nice bag of bones I expect I shall find it." 
 
 " No, you won't, Uncle George ; seeing's believing, and 
 you'll find there's more goodness in sawdust than you 
 thought for, when you look at my calf. I wish you'd bring 
 Farmer Prowse with you too, when you come. He'll find 
 I can bring my calves up cheaper than he can his." 
 
 " I'll bring him, never fear," replied Uncle George, " to 
 look at this wonderful calf of yours. One is never too old 
 to learn. It'll be something new to Prowse and me to 
 learn how to bring a calf up upon sawdust." 
 
 John ran round to see Ted, and told him the calf was 
 going on so well that his uncle and Farmer Prowse were 
 coming round to see it, and as it would be a half-holida) 
 
96 THE BOY WJ1H AN IDEA. 
 
 that afternoon, would Ted come too, and ask his father to 
 accompany him. It was something to see a calf like that 
 which had been fed upon nothing but sawdust. Ted prom- 
 ised to come and do his best to induce his father to do so 
 too ; and then John went off to school, feeling as if he had 
 more brains to boast of as his own share than the master 
 and all the boys put together. 
 
 School was over at last ; it had seemed to John as if it 
 would never come to an end, and then he ran home and 
 took another look at his beloved calf. It looked fatter and 
 sleeker than ever; a calf to be proud of. John patted and 
 stroked it, and then went in to dinner, which he was too 
 excited to eat; as soon as he had swallowed a few hasty 
 mouthfuls, he ran to the garden gate, and looked out impa- 
 tiently for his uncle and Mr. Harley. 
 
 Presently he saw Ted coming, accompanied by his 
 father. Mr. Harley had been very incredulous as to the 
 possibility of a calf being reared upon sawdust broth, but 
 Ted had assured him that such really must be the case if 
 John said so, as he invariably spoke nothing but the truth 
 
 " He's a queer fellow, I know, sir, and has all sorts of 
 odd notions, but I never knew him to say a thing yet that 
 he did not believe himself, and if he says this calf" got fat 
 upon sawdust, why I'd rather believe that than I would 
 that Ashdell's telling a story." 
 
 " It's quite impossible you know, Ted, that it really can 
 be so," observed Mr. Harley, " there's some mystery 01 
 other about it." 
 
JOHN'S "RATIONAL INVESTMENT." 97 
 
 "Well, I don't know, sir, they're always finding out 
 fresh things," replied Ted, who had been led by John's 
 boundless confidence in himself to have some belief in him 
 too ; " there may be something in this notion of Ashdell's 
 after all." 
 
 " Ah ! there may" said Mr. Harley, " but it will take a 
 cleverer fellow than your friend, Ted, to get any good out 
 of sawdust; if he succeeds in that, he'll raise sunbeams 
 out of cucumbers." 
 
 They were soon at the gate of Mrs. Ashdell's cottage, 
 and John, beaming with delight and triumph, led them to 
 the wood-house and exhibited the calf. Whatever its food 
 it certainly looked well, as Uncle George, who by this time 
 had arrived with Mr. Prowse, owned. Bob had come too, 
 and having assisted in the cooking of the sawdust, he took 
 some of the credit of John's successful experiment to him- 
 self. Martha came to the wood-house and looked on, ap- 
 parently as much pleased at the wonder Mr. Harley, Uncle 
 George, and Farmer Prowse evinced as was John himself. 
 
 " You don't mean to tell me, John Ashdell," said the 
 farmer, addressing John solemnly, " that this calf has had 
 nothing since it left its mother but water you've boiled 
 sawdust in." 
 
 " Aqua lignea, if you please, Mr. Prowse," said John 
 gravely. " That's the name I give my decoction, but per- 
 haps you don't understand Latin ? " 
 
 " No, but I do understand common sense, young 
 fellow, and it goes clean against that, for me to believe 
 7 
 
98 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 that this animal has had nothing but your precious 'awker 
 for the last fortnight." 
 
 " And I know it has not," said John, " not a thing, has 
 it Martha ? " he added, turning to that good dame who still 
 stood smiling at the door of the wood-house. 
 
 " Not a thing," said Martha, " not a 'versal thing but 
 three quarts of skim-milk well thickened with oatmeal that 
 I've given it regular three times a day myself since the 
 first two days Master John brought it here. Missus said 
 it wasn't to be starved to please any of his whim whams, 
 and if he would not feed it, I was to myself ; so I took her 
 at her word, and no one can say I haven't done my duty 
 by the poor dumb creature." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HOW JOHN WAS SENT TO SCHOOL FOR HIS GOOD. HE 
 OPENS HIS MOUTH, AND MAKES A GREAT MANY PEO- 
 PLE OPEN THEIR EYES. 
 
 JOHN was very glad to get rid of his calf after this. 
 Farmer Prowse took it off his hands, and for some time 
 any mention of sawdust was as unpleasant to John's feel- 
 ings as an allusion to new ways of soling boots or carrying 
 pigs home from market ; still he could not bring himself 
 yet to believe that there might be wiser people in the world 
 than himself, and that all who lived in it before Master 
 John Ashdell came, had not been so completely ignorant 
 of the very first principles of knowledge as Master John 
 had been accustomed to consider was the case. 
 
 " There's nothing for it," said Uncle George, " but 
 boarding-school. The larger, the better. I should like to 
 send him to a public one. The more boys he mixes with 
 the more likely he is to have his nonsense thrashed out of 
 him. ' I've an idea,' as Master John would say, that he'll 
 go on like this till he has either killed himself or somebody 
 else, if strict measures are not taken with him." 
 
IOO THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 Still Mrs. Ashdell hesitated, she had a horror of 
 boarding-schools, and a public boarding-school seemed 
 most dreadful of all. But John himself condescended to 
 approve of the notion ; if a great boarding-school would 
 not give him, like Alexander, another world to conquer, 
 at any rate it would give him another world to listen to him. 
 He was rather tired of his present school-fellows. They 
 were mostly boys from the neighborhood, who had seen 
 very little beyond it. The boys in a great school would 
 have some " notion of things," said John, and be glad to 
 know a fellow who could enlighten them a little. Some of 
 them would come from London ; some from great towns, 
 and their views of matters would be likely to be altogether 
 different from those of boys who have never stirred five 
 miles from their native villages. 
 
 Perhaps John's arguments as to the utility of having a 
 wide sphere for display — he put it modestly, " going to a 
 place where people had sense enough of their own, not to 
 be envious of a fellow who might happen to have just a 
 little more," — would not have had much effect upon his 
 mother, had it not been for Master John distinguishing 
 himself, after his own fashion, in a manner that frightened 
 her. He got one of Uncle George's guns and fired it after 
 " an idea " of his own, and though luckily there was only 
 powder in it, he blackened his own face in a style that 
 frightened Mrs. Ashdell and did some damage to the gun, 
 which made Uncle George so angry that he in his turn, 
 frightened Master John by threatening him with a sound 
 
JOHN IS SENT TO SCHOOL* ioi 
 
 flogging if he ever found him meddling with anything of 
 his again. John's dignity was affronted, so he sulked for 
 at least a week with his uncle and kept away from the 
 place, at which Uncle George was not at all sorry, as he 
 was heartily tired of John and his " ideas." Then John 
 struck up an acquaintance with a stoker on the railway and 
 came home to his mother full of this new friendship 
 There was one very good thing about the boy, nuisance as 
 he was, he was so fond of his mother, and so frank and 
 open with her. He told her all about his acquaintance 
 with Joe Tims, and the manner in which he had astonished 
 Joe by telling him of several improvements that he 
 thought might be made in the locomotives, and intimated 
 that he hoped before long Joe Tims would give him a ride 
 up to London, when perhaps he might have an opportunity 
 of showing him how to put the extra speed on when needed 
 and get the passengers up to London almost before they 
 thought they were half way. 
 
 " If I could only get hold of the engine-driver," said 
 John, " I've got an idea how a collision might always be 
 prevented by shunting the trains off, just as you'd turn a 
 horse on one side. You make a safety-valve to throw off 
 the steam, and an extinguisher to put out the fire with 
 I've been making some drawings of them which I mould 
 like to show him, it would cost me something to get the 
 real articles made, but if he'd promise me to let me have a 
 chance of trying them I wouldn't mind that. I've got the 
 price of that calf; what a shame it was of Martha not to 
 
102 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 let me carry out that experiment properly ! People always 
 do seem so spiteful. They won't give one a chance. I 
 should like to know how all the fellows that were the first 
 to think of anything new would have got on, if they had 
 been snubbed and sat down upon as I have been. How- 
 ever, I've sold the calf for a good bit more than I gave 
 for it, and now I've got such chums with Joe Tims, I think 
 I can see my way to something better than fattening 
 animals ; perhaps when I've time, and have made my way, 
 I'll turn my attention to that again, and do things on a 
 larger scale. Catch me ever letting Martha near my place 
 then ! " 
 
 Mrs. Ashdell was horrified at the thought of John carry- 
 ing out his idea of shunting and letting the steam off and 
 on, and sending a whole railway-train, luggage, passengers, 
 stokers, drivers, and his precious self as well, to destruc- 
 tion. She went to Uncle George for advice, and he re- 
 peated that which he had all along given her. " Send him 
 to school ; he'll kill himself next if you don't, and half-a- 
 dozen people besides. Know more than a stoker or an 
 engine-driver, does he ! Why, according to him, he knows 
 more than every engineer in the kingdom. Manage a 
 railway-train ! Why he's capable of managing a kingdom 
 in his own opinion. There's nothing for it but to send him 
 to a boys' school, where, if the master doesn't thrash the 
 nonsense out of him, the boys will." 
 
 Mrs. Ashdell shuddered at the idea of the thrashing; 
 but the remembrance of John's readiness to go, reassured 
 
JOHN IS SENT TO SCHOOL. 103 
 
 her a little. " The dear boy thinks he would like it him- 
 self," she said timidly. " Not the flogging, you know, but 
 I don't believe there's much of that now-a-days, but the 
 society and the having boys of a more intelligent class to 
 associate with — it certainly would be pleasanter for him." 
 
 " I hope he'll find it so," said Uncle George gravely. 
 
 " And where should you advise me to send him ? " asked 
 Mrs. Ashdell. 
 
 " To Bessingham Middle-Class Grammar School," said 
 Uncle George, " that's where I'm going to send my own 
 boys when they're old enough to go. Uncle Tummer 
 knows it well and was educated there. I've always heard 
 him speak well of it and by all accounts it's none the worse 
 for the thirty years that have passed since then." 
 
 Uncle Tummer was Mrs. Ashdell's uncle, and a great 
 authority in the family, though they did not see very much 
 of him. I shall have more to tell you of him by-and-bye, 
 " I think I'll write to Uncle Tummer and ask him about 
 it," said Mrs. Ashdell. 
 
 " You haven't much time, the school opens for the sum- 
 mer term next week," said Uncle George ; " you'd better 
 be seeing about getting John's boxes ready." 
 
 ,£ Then I'll go and ask John about it," said Mrs. Ash 
 dell. 
 
 John was full of delight at the idea of going. "Bes- 
 singham Grammar School ! I've always heard that well 
 spoken of. I believe the Master's a very good fellow," he 
 said patronizingly ; don't go in too much for that old Latin 
 
104 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 and Greek. Dear me ! what a deal those ancients had to 
 find out to be sure ! I shall like to go very much indeed, 
 mother. I wish Cousin Bob was coming too, but I dare 
 say I shall find a friend or two of my own way of thinking." 
 
 John had quite enough to do for the ensuing week with- 
 out getting into any new mischief. He packed up his con- 
 juring tricks — some day he was going to make a new set 
 of his own, and when he did, neither Houdin, nor the Wiz- 
 ard of the North could be compared to him. He put up 
 his books, of which, besides those required for his studies, 
 he had a very good assortment for a boy of his age. He 
 said sometimes, " I don't go very much by books, but we 
 may learn a thing or two now and then from them," His 
 aunt made him a great cake, and Martha another. He had 
 one small hamper of oranges and nuts, besides some pots 
 of jam, two bottles of ginger wine, and ajar of preserved 
 ginger. The village tailor made him a new suit of clothes, 
 and his mother gave him his grandfather's gold watch and 
 a little gold chain. He was to have his father's watch when 
 he was one-and-twenty. Altogether, John was as well 
 equipped for school as any boy need be, and started off in 
 excellent spirits. 
 
 The school was not on the same line of railway on 
 which Shedley was situated, so John had to come up to 
 London in order to proceed there. Uncle George, who 
 had business in town, volunteered to bring him, and Mrs. 
 Ashdell, after a tearful leave-taking of her boy, went to the 
 house of her mother who was again requiring a great 
 
JOHN IS SENT TO SCHOOL. 105 
 
 deal of attention from her. John had very little to say tc 
 his uncle on the way up. He never could bring Uncle 
 George over to his " ideas," and they passed the journey 
 to town in almost unbroken silence, Uncle George reading 
 his paper, and John looking out of the window, and think- 
 ing how much better he could manage everything he saw 
 around him, including digging the ditches and pruning the 
 hedges. 
 
 Uncle George evinced some sense of his duties of an 
 uncle, however, when he got his nephew up to London. 
 There was no time for sight-seeing or for a regular dinner, 
 but he took John to a pastry-cook's, where he gave him 
 such a lunch as John had not often partaken of before. Of 
 course John couldn't eat it without letting his uncle know 
 how he could have improved upon the pastry, but Uncle 
 George bore with him patiently now. " He'll soon have 
 this taken out of him," he thought, as he walked out of the 
 shop followed by John. 
 
 When they got to the station (I'm not going to tell you 
 which station it was, as I don't want you to identity Bes- 
 singham School with any one grammar-school in particu- 
 lar) they found the platform alive with boys of different 
 ages, from little fellows of nine, who had just succeeded 
 in persuading their mothers to let them leave off knicker- 
 bockers as too childish for a public school, to tall, stout 
 lads of seventeen or eighteen, some with their upper lips 
 and cheeks already dark with the promise of coming mus- 
 taches and whiskers. An open third-class carriage had 
 
I06 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 been chartered for their conveyance as they would thus be 
 all together, which the boys considered a much pleasanter 
 arrangement than being shut up in small compartments in 
 the second-class. As to travelling first-class, not one of 
 them would ever have thought of it, unless he was coming 
 home invalided, or going down with his parents. A rail- 
 way platform is always a noisy place, but you should have 
 heard the noise to-day ! Every boy seemed to think it in- 
 cumbent on him to talk enough for half-a-dozen, with the 
 exception of one or two of the seniors who, perhaps, had 
 come with their mothers and sisters, and were rather lan- 
 guid, and grand, and supercilious, and, in fact, as some of 
 the younger ones said, were giving themselves " no end 
 of airs." 
 
 The little ones, who had come with their mothers or 
 fathers, tried to look brave and talk louder than anybody, 
 as if they wanted everybody to believe that going to school 
 was the pleasantest thing that could happen to them, and, 
 of the two, decidedly pleasanter than going away from it. 
 Perhaps the boys who are neither very big nor very small 
 were the merriest and the most at their ease ; they had no 
 dignity to sustain like their seniors, and the great world oi 
 school had become by this time more familiar to them than 
 it had to those younger ones who had been so short a time 
 in it. There were about thirty of them altogether; of 
 course there were a great many more in the school, but 
 these were boys who lived in London, or like John, had 
 had to come through it from another part of the country 
 
JOHN IS SENT TO SCHOOL. 107 
 
 John kept very qu et (for him) and looked about him while 
 Uncle George saw to the safe bestowal of his luggage 
 along with the other boxes of his travelling companion. 
 Then John got in, and his place happened to be right in 
 the very centre of the carriage, for which he was not alto- 
 gether sorry, as it gave him a good opportunity of seeing 
 his new school-fellows. There was a little bustle about 
 getting places, a great deal of hand-shaking, and some kiss- 
 ing amongst the juniors, then the steam-engine gave its 
 long, shrill whistle, and amidst the waving of handkerchiefs, 
 the good-bys of mammas and papas, the hurrahs of small 
 brothers, the shouts and cheers of the school-boys them- 
 selves, away went the train, and John was fairly embarked 
 on his new life. 
 
 " I hope he'll come back a rational being," said Uncle 
 George. " If Bessingham doesn't cure him, I don't know 
 of any place that will, short of a lunatic asylum." 
 
 They had fifty miles before them, and the train was 
 only going sixteen miles an hour, so John had plenty 
 of time before him, and he leaned back quite at his ease, 
 to make his observation. Another boy might have been 
 shy or timid with such a circle of new companions, but 
 John never had any feelings of that nature, he was so 
 thoroughly confident and self-possessed, so perfectly sure 
 that everything he, John Ashdell, did was just the wisest, 
 best, discreetest thing that could be done. There was 
 a tall boy, one of the seniors of the school, just opposite 
 him, and he looked at John with a little curiosity, then 
 
108 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 turned to a small, meek-faced lad by him and said, H Are 
 you Miles's brother ? " 
 
 The little fellow said, rather timidly, " Yes, sir." It was 
 his first term at school, and the boy who spoke to him was so 
 very big, and had such a deep bass voice, and such an im- 
 posing manner, that little Miles was not at all sure that he 
 was not speaking to one of the masters, who was going down 
 with the boys to see that they didn't misbehave themselves. 
 
 " Miles's brother, I mean, who got the Exhibition ? " 
 said the big boy. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said the little one with a flush of pride, and 
 the other boys leaned forward and looked at him. Miles's 
 brother was somebody. Miles had done the school credit, 
 and they were all a little proud of him, and disposed to 
 treat his small brother very well. John, who was quite 
 tired of keeping silence, now broke in with — 
 
 " What did he get it for ? " 
 
 " Latin and Greek," said the little boy, Miles's brother. 
 " Classics," said the big one who had been Miles's friend, 
 superciliously, as if he wondered at the impertinence of a 
 new fellow, who, from his age, could only be expected 
 to enter the fourth form, entering into any conversation in 
 which he was taking part. 
 
 " Classics," said John ; " oh ! I don't care much about 
 them." 
 
 " Don't you ? " said Miles's friend in his grandest tone. 
 " It's rather curious, isn't it, you're coming to a grammar- 
 school then ? " 
 
JOHN IS SENT TO SCHOOL. 109 
 
 He thought of putting the strange boy down. If he 
 had only known him a little better he might have spared 
 himself the trouble. John stretched out his legs, made 
 himself as comfortable as his seat permitted, and seeing 
 that he was likely to have an attentive audience, 
 went on. 
 
 " Latin and Greek are all very well, but I don't think 
 so much of them myself as some people do ; Mathe- 
 matics are the thing I'm going in for, though I don't 
 consider Euclid always goes the right way to work. I 
 should like to have a little talk with him about some 
 of his problems ; I've got ' an idea ' I could have put him 
 up to a thing or two." 
 
 " Perhaps you'll be good enough to tell the head-master 
 as much," said Miles's friend, while Miles's brother and 
 every other small boy, and a good many who were not very 
 small, opened their eyes and listened with wondering 
 silence to this audacious new boy, who seemed not to be 
 afraid of the great sixth-form boy opposite, who was 
 perhaps as much astonished as any of them. 
 
 " Shouldn't mind when I get to know him better. I 
 hope he's up to a thing or two. Don't want to stick too 
 much to the old rules, does he ? I've heard he goes in 
 for chemistry, geology, and a lot of other things of that 
 kind, and a master that does that, isn't likely to be bound 
 down just to ' hie, haec, hoc, ' or the declensions and conju- 
 gations of a lot of verbs, that after all, no one on earth 
 was ever the better for knowing. I don't suppose those 
 
HO THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 old Romans or Greeks either, bothered their heads half so 
 much about their grammar as we do now-a-days." 
 
 " You'll be bound down pretty stiffly, I can tell you,' 
 said Miles's friend. " I wonder, if you know so much, that 
 you trouble your head about coming to school at all. 
 What sort of a place have you been in before ? " 
 
 " Well, I was only a day-boy there. We were all day- 
 boys. It was rather an old-fashioned place, and the 
 master, in my opinion, was decidedly behind the times. 
 Still I got on pretty comfortably. I didn't see anything of 
 him out of school hours ; the worst of him was that in 
 school hours he was always down upon a fellow for talking ; 
 one couldn't make the simplest remark without catching 
 it How this train jolts. I wonder they don't think of 
 some way of preventing it." 
 
 " I should think you might tell them how to do it," said 
 Miles's friend grimly ; " such an universal genius as you 
 appear to be, ought to be able to think of something to 
 hinder the shaking of a train." 
 
 " Well, I've got an ' idea ' that I could," said John, " I've 
 a friend who's on the railway, and I was telling him my 
 views of the matter, and he really seemed to think there 
 was something in them." 
 
 John was a good, honest boy, and not troubled with 
 many ideas of his own personal consequence, apart from 
 his own great cleverness, but Miles's friend looked so very 
 grand, that he felt hardly disposed to say that his friend 
 was a stoker, so that the other seemed to have imbibed the 
 
JOHN IS SENT TO SCHOOL. Ill 
 
 idea that John was speaking of a director or some othei 
 leading magnate, for with a little more blandness in his 
 tone he said, " Is your friend a practical man ? " 
 
 " Oh ! he's practical, very practical," said John, " and he 
 promised to introduce me to another who knows even more 
 of the working of such matters than he does. I must look 
 them both up when I go home for the holidays, and in the 
 mean time study the thing a little. I've got an ' idea,' you 
 know, that if we were to cover the rails with a thick bed- 
 ding or coating of india-rubber — " 
 
 " India-rubber ! " There was a general outcry at this. 
 
 " India-rubber," said John gravely. " There you get 
 the desired elasticity, which prevents the horrible bumping 
 we're undergoing just now. You'd go as smooth and as 
 nice as a sledge over snow." 
 
 " But how would it wear ? " said Miles's friend, who be- 
 gan to think there was something in the new boy after all. 
 John's evident belief in himself, his profound conviction 
 that what he was saying was the best and wisest thing that 
 could be said, was beginning to affect even him. As he 
 listened with some show of politeness, of course the other 
 boys did the same, and John was in his element, with a 
 whole carriage-full of attentive auditors. This was some- 
 thing worth coming to school for. " I've got amongst the 
 right set at last," thought John, and he leaned back, cross- 
 ed his arms, and went on talking more fluently than ever. 
 
 " Safe to wear, you know ; look at the wear of an india- 
 rubber ball, and very easy to renew. You make the cover- 
 
112 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 ing in lengths, which can be put down in a very few min- 
 utes. Or you might pour it on melted. I don't know but 
 what that would be the best way. What should you say 
 now?" 
 
 " Can't tell, I'm sure. Haven't studied the subject. If 
 it's all the same to you just mind where you're putting your 
 feet. You keep digging them into my bag," said Miles's 
 friend. 
 
 "Very sorry; didn't see it," said John looking down at 
 a great black leather bag which he had been making use of 
 as a footstool. " Hope there's nothing in it I've hurt ?" 
 
 " Only oranges, and I don't want them made into jam." 
 
 " That's a good notion," said John. " Never thought 
 of that before. Why shouldn't we make jam as we do wine ; 
 tread on the fruit till it's all in a mash, then stir in the 
 sugar, beat it all up together, and put it in the pots and 
 cover it over. It would be a very quick way and save no 
 end of paring." 
 
 " Rather nasty," said Miles's friend. 
 
 " Well, perhaps it is when you come to think of it," said 
 John, " but still something might be made out of the 
 1 idea.' " 
 
 " I'd rather stick to the india-rubber rails," said anothei 
 sixth-form boy, rather superciliously, " I wonder Stephen- 
 son and Brunei never thought of them." 
 
 " So do I," said John, " but Rome wasn't built in a day, 
 and there is a deal to be found out yet, if people will only 
 go the right way to find it. I wish they'd pad the backs 
 
JOHN IS SENT TO SCHOOL. 113 
 
 of the carriages ; what with the bumping and shaking, and 
 the hard backs and seats, I feel stiff and sore all over." 
 
 " Why didn't you bring an air cushion or two ? " said 
 the sixth-form boy who had last spoken. 
 
 "Didn't think of it — besides I haven't got any," said 
 John, frankly ; but I've got ' an idea ! ' Why shouldn't 
 caps be made to serve as air cushions or pillows. That's 
 a capital notion. You take off your cap, you blow away, 
 and there you are — nothing to do but to fix it behind you 
 anywhere and lay down upon it — dear me ! if that were 
 only carried out, one might turn all one's clothes into air 
 cushions, so that one could carry one's bed wherever one 
 went — nothing to do but to take off one's things, inflate 
 them, and then turn in. What a capital notion, now, for 
 a fellow in the back-woods ! Why he need never be 
 without a bed to lie down upon." 
 
 " Nor without a pair of bellows either," said the sixth- 
 form boy who had last spoken, and whose name was 
 Staples ; " if he's willing to turn himself into one ! " 
 
 John looked at him rather disdainfully and made up 
 his mind that he should not get on with him too well. 
 " Envious pig ! " he thought. " Can't bear to see another 
 fellow with more brains than himself." Then, feeling rather 
 tired, and dry in the throat, after speaking so much, he 
 took out one of his juiciest oranges and began eating it, 
 and so the time went on till the train stopped at Bessing- 
 hara. 
 
 8 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 HOW JOHN GOT ON AT SCHOOL. HE DOES NOT FIND THE 
 BOYS QUITE AS SENSIBLE AS HE EXPECTED THEY 
 WOULD BE. AN OLD COUPLE AND AN OLD BOOK. 
 
 "OESSINGHAM Grammar-School was an imposing old 
 ■*-^ place. It had been built in the reign of Edward the 
 Sixth, and in its great hall there was a dim old portrait of 
 a quiet-looking boy, said to be that poor little monarch. 
 There was accommodation in it for above a hundred boys, 
 besides a good house for the head-master. It was built of 
 red brick, and had all sorts of gables, queer-shaped win- 
 dows, and chimneys up which the ivy twisted. The rooms 
 inside were dark and low, and there were long rambling 
 passages, which led no one knew whither, seeming to have 
 been built for the sake of giving as much exercise to the 
 boys and servants as possible. But it was a comfortable 
 old place withal, and some modern improvements having 
 been introduced in the way of ventilation and warmth, the 
 school-buildings, old as they were, formed a very snug 
 abiding-place for the boys who occupied them. The mas- 
 ter was popular. He was a pleasant, cheery-looking man 
 of forty- five, tall and portly, with the character of being 
 
JOHN AT SCHOOL. 115 
 
 an excellent classic scholar, and at the same time anxious 
 to keep his school well up to the modern standard, which 
 requires that education should consist of a great many 
 things besides Latin and Greek. He shook each boy 
 heartily by the hand as he entered, and had a word or two 
 to say to all. John's heart turned to him at once. " I like 
 the look of that Doctor," he thought ; " I should say that's 
 a man with some sense in him. But whatever does he go 
 on living in this old-world place for ? Why doesn't he get 
 the Town Council, or the Town, or whatever it is that has 
 the management of matters, to build a new school ? This 
 seems so dreadfully out of date. I don't know how a 
 fellow can be expected to keep up with the times, when 
 he's in a place that's three hundred years behind them." 
 
 John got on very well with his lessons. He was clever 
 and quick, and they never gave him much trouble. Most 
 of the masters liked him, too. John was always well be- 
 haved and polite ; a good tempered gentlemanly boy, to 
 whom most people's hearts turned at once, until he had 
 carried some freak or other too far. Dr. Raven, the head- 
 master, was very well pleased with him, but thought him 
 rather peculiar, having overheard him once or twice dilat- 
 ing on some of his pet theories to his school-fellows ; and 
 he resolved to become a little better acquainted with 'mm 
 as soon as the school had settled down again into 
 thorough working order ; but just at first he had too much 
 t") do to devote himself to any one boy in particular. 
 
 The one great thing John did not like about the school 
 
il6 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 was its regularity. He had always been pretty punctual ia 
 his attendance at school, hut he had had a great deal of 
 liberty allowed him after school hours ; then he had had his 
 own little room, or laboratory as he called it, where he 
 could carry out his experiments undisturbed. Of course 
 he had nothing of the kind at Bessingham, and though, 
 like other boys above the third form, he was allowed to go 
 out alone occasionally, still he had to be back at stated 
 hours, and any infringement of this rule the Doctor pun- 
 ished severely. 
 
 John did not like this. It was putting fetters on the 
 wings of his genius. He could always think better when 
 out for a walk, and to have his meditations cut short, or 
 their current diverted, by the reflection that he had to be 
 back by a certain hour, was very unpleasant. " One can't 
 follow out a train of thought," he said to Hooke, a fourth- 
 form boy, whom he had converted into a great admirer, 
 " if one remembers that one is bound to be in to dinner or 
 study hour at a fixed time. I like the Doctor, but I wish I 
 could get him to see that such strict regularity is not alto- 
 gether desirable. What's dinner, when one's just on the 
 point of making a great discovery, that one should hurry 
 back, and send one's meditations to the winds, just that 
 one's mutton may not be overcooked, or the boiled beef get 
 cold. Dinner indeed ! I often wish, when I hear that 
 great bell ringing the quarter of an hour's notice, that there 
 was not such a thing as dinner in the world." 
 
 " I don't ! " said Hooke, solemnly. He was a round. 
 
JOHN AT SCHOOL. 117 
 
 pudding-faced boy, and brought his words out with great 
 slowness and deliberation. 
 
 " I know what I do wish instead, and I should be very 
 glad some day or other that you'd have an idea how that 
 could be brought about." 
 
 " Well what is it ? " said John, patronizingly. " Speak 
 out — perhaps I may manage it for you." 
 
 " That there could be two dinners every day ! " cried 
 Hooke, enthusiastically, "My! wouldn't that be worth 
 coming to school for." 
 
 John turned from his young admirer in disgust, but the 
 feeling only lasted a moment. He could not afford to 
 quarrel with him. Hooke's belief in and admiration of him 
 were very precious. Miles's friend — whom I may as well 
 introduce at once under his rightful name of Hart — was 
 given to jeering, and satirized him a little, and Staples 
 ridiculed him unmercifully. Master John was beginning 
 to find out the difference between a large school and a 
 small one ; besides, there were many boys at Bessingham 
 older than himself, while at Shedley they had all been of 
 his own age, or younger. Hooke and a few others were 
 overpowered by his flow of words, and the wonderful con- 
 fidence he had in himself; but the generality of the boys 
 were more influenced by Hart or Staples. And John 
 liked to be believed in; — he might sneer at people and 
 their stupidity, and say they were beneath his notice, but 
 still he felt disheartened and vexed when he found every 
 one disposed to treat him as Uncle George always did. So 
 
Il8 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 he did not like to quarrel with Hooke, and very soon an 
 opportunity occurred of testing how much that youth and 
 some others believed in him. 
 
 There was a dingy little shop in Bessingham kept by an 
 old man and his wife, who were themselves as great 
 antiquities as the curiosities in which they dealt. They 
 sold (whenever they got a customer, which was very 
 rarely) old pictures, carved furniture, and curious books 
 and china. John liked hanging about this shop — some- 
 times he got into a talk with the old man, who was almost 
 as crotchety and peculiar as John. With the old woman 
 he had very little to do as she was shy and timid, but 
 Reuben Flint, when you came to know him, had a great 
 deal to say for himself, or rather for those things in which 
 he especially delighted, and on the whole John considered 
 him rather a desirable acquaintance. 
 
 Reuben liked John, because of all the Grammar-School 
 boys he was the only one who never ridiculed him. John 
 was certainly a good-hearted boy, and would not have 
 thought any old man a fit person to be made the subject 
 of jokes; but he really thought Reuben a very clever 
 tellow. "There's a great deal in that old man," he said to 
 Hooke ; " I believe he knows a great deal more than 
 people give him credit for. I don't say just your Latin 
 and Greek, but they're not the only things worth knowing 
 in the world. Do you know, since I've seen him I've 
 learned a thing or two that I never dreamed of before." 
 
 And then John looked astounded, as if it were some- 
 
yOHN AT SCHOOL. 119 
 
 thing almost incredible that there should be any one 
 found capable of teaching Master John Ashdell more 
 than he knew already. 
 
 One half-holiday John went to see his friend Reuben. 
 He found him sitting in the back-parlor with a great old 
 book upon his knees. His wife opposite him was stirring 
 a pot that hung over the fire, in which she was concocting 
 some broth, that had not a particularly appetizing savor. 
 As John looked at her — so old, so wrinkled, so dirty, and 
 so ugly — he thought of the stories he had read of witches 
 and their decoctions. The back parlor itself was just the 
 scene for a witch and a wizard to dwell in. A great 
 stuffed crocodile was slung across the ceiling. In one 
 recess of the room was a curiously carved chest, at least 
 three hundred years old, and it was adorned with death's 
 heads and cross-bones among other devices, so that being 
 quite black with age and worm-eaten as well, it had not 
 the most cheerful appearance. Some old armor — shields 
 and breastplates — hung on the walls, and in one corner 
 was a skeleton, said to be that of a famous robber of 
 Charles the Second's time. Reuben Flint had a mania for 
 buying, no matter whether he was likely to sell again or 
 not. Indeed he was very much richer than from his style 
 of living and appearance anyone would have imagined; 
 but he was fond of hoarding, and could not bear to part 
 with his money, unless for some curious or antique acqui- 
 sition. He was miserly in all but that ; perhaps, indeed, 
 the accumulated treasures around him were only signs of 
 
120 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 miserliness taking another form. He generally contrived 
 to secure them cheaply, but even when he had a good 
 offer for any one of his possessions, he seemed to find 
 it hard to part with it. 
 
 He was so wrapped up in his book that he did not at 
 first hear John, who sat quietly down on one of the three 
 chairs in the room — all of which with the table, were 
 supposed to be as old as the time of Queen Elizabeth — 
 and looked at the old couple, and thought what strange- 
 "ooking creatures they were, possibly wondering, as boys 
 sometimes do, whether he could ever be as aged and as 
 wrinkled and as feeble, as the old man before him. Mrs. 
 Flint was the first to see him, but she stirred her broth, 
 and said nothing. It was believed that she never did 
 speak above half-a-dozen words a day, so that it was 
 hardly likely she would have one of the six to spare for 
 him. Presently Reuben raised his eyes, and fixed them 
 on John without speaking. It was such a set, steady stare, 
 almost as if he were seeing something right beyond John, 
 that Teddy Hooke, who had come with his friend, was 
 rather frightened, and creeping up to the other said, " I 
 say, I wish you'd hook it. The old chap looks uncom- 
 monly queer." 
 
 Reuben closed the book. It was written in what they 
 call Black Letter, and bound in brown vellum, with great 
 brass clasps. Then he gave a sigh, and rising up, placed 
 it almost reverently on the top of the great chest with the 
 death's-heads, and coming back to his chair sat down, an 3 
 
JOHN AT SCHOOL, 121 
 
 look'ng at John said, " That's a wonderful book, and he 
 was a wonderful man that wrote it." 
 
 " Who was he ? " asked John, " and what's it about ? " 
 
 " The greatest art of all — the art of making gold ! " 
 said Reuben, and his eyes fairly sparkled as he spoke. 
 " What a man ! What a man to know ! If he were only 
 living now, that one might see and speak to him — learn a 
 little more of what he tells us in that wonderful volume ! " 
 
 " Making gold ! " said John. " Well, I've heard of that, 
 but I never believed in it." 
 
 " I suppose he went to the diggings," said Teddy 
 Hooke, and John turned from him with contempt. " I 
 shouldn't wonder," he said to Reuben, " but that there was 
 something in that notion. I've got an ' idea ' that we 
 might make gold, if we gave our attention to the matter. 
 I should like to look at that book. Would you mind lend- 
 ing it to me ? " 
 
 Reuben shook his head. " It would come back in a 
 pretty state if once I let it go to your school ; but you're a 
 good lad, and have got more sense in you than a great 
 many. You may come here and read it at odd times." 
 
 " May I stop now and look at it ? " asked John, eagerly. 
 u I needn't be back for these two hours. Do let me 
 stop." 
 
 " You — you don't want me to keep here too ? " asked 
 Teddy, looking timid. " I'd rather get back to football." 
 
 " No, I don't want you," answered John. " I shall be 
 best quiet. Run along with you, and don't tell any of the 
 
122 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 fellows where I am. I don't wish for any of their re« 
 marks." 
 
 Teddy went away very well pleased to get out of the 
 gloom, and away from the skeleton and dingy possessions 
 of Reuben Flint, to the light and the fresh spring air. 
 John sat down, and was silent — with the exception of an 
 occasional burst of admiration, or an exclamation of won- 
 der — for the full two hours that he had allowed himself ; 
 then he went out, thanking Reuben Flint with much grav- 
 ity for having allowed him to see the book, and passed the 
 rest of the evening in unusual silence ; though, to judge 
 by the manner in which his lessons and themes were pre- 
 pared, his work was very little the better for this very 
 remarkable taciturnity. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 A JOINT-STOCK CONCERN. HOW JOHN SETS HIS JOT 
 BOILING. 
 
 T I ^HE next day when school was over, John went t)j 
 -*- Teddy Hooke, and said he should like to take a stroll 
 with him as far as the Castle. This was within the bounds 
 in which the boys were allowed to roam by themselves, and 
 Teddy being ready, off the two started. Bessingham 
 Castle had been a grand old place in its time, and its ruins 
 were massive and imposing. The walls were of an enor 
 mous thickness, and the stonework of several of the tow- 
 ers was still nearly perfect. There were subterranean 
 vaults, which common-place people said had been used 
 for the storage of fuel, and those of more exalted imagin- 
 ations, like John, believed to have been either prisons or 
 hiding-places in the time of danger. John had very often 
 wandered about the Castle, thinking how much better he 
 could have built it, and how, if he had been living at the 
 time, and the construction of Bessingham Castle had been 
 left to him, he would have taken care that it should have 
 as much light and ventilation as any modern mansion, and 
 
124 THE B0Y WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 yet have been so strongly built, that cannon-shot should 
 have no more effect upon it than so many peas from a pea- 
 shooter. Perhaps Teddy thought he was going to hear 
 something like this to-day, for he came out provided with a 
 pocketful of biscuits, that he might have something to 
 employ himself on while listening to John's remarks 
 Teddy was a wonderful boy for eating — perhaps that was 
 one reason he was so good a listener. He couldn't well 
 talk when his mouth was full of fruit or cakes. 
 
 John walked on silently through the one street of the 
 quiet old town, which, if it had not been for the Grammar- 
 School boys, would have seemed to have gone to sleep 
 for ever ; through the winding path which led by the 
 Church — which was as old as the town ; and the church- 
 yard, which was very little quieter, and so on to the rising 
 ground where stood Bessingham Castle, looking over a 
 wide expanse of meadow and corn-field, with trees now 
 green with their early foliage, and hedges white and fra- 
 grant with hawthorn-blossoms. 
 
 They passed through the great court-yard and sat 
 down outside, leaning against the ruins of what had once 
 been an outer wall. John looked carefully around him to 
 see that no one was near enough to hear what he was 
 about to say ; and, having satisfied himself that he was 
 perfectly safe, began solemnly — 
 
 " Hooke, I've been thinking." 
 
 Teddy took the biscuit which he was just about to 
 bite, away from his mouth, and said gravely — 
 
A JOINT-STOCK CONCERN. 125 
 
 " You mostly are. I wonder how your brains stand it * 
 What's up now? " 
 
 " I lay awake half last night thinking about that book 
 that Flint showed me," answered John. " I'm satisfied 
 there's more to be done in that way than he, or any one 
 else but just myself, has a notion of. Only think of it ! 
 Make our fortunes ! Just to be as rich as a dozen Lord 
 Mayors melted into one, and every King in the world into 
 the bargain." 
 
 " How are you going to do it ? " asked Teddy. 
 
 " Well, I've got an ' idea ' or two about that, but one 
 wants a little time to settle matters, and we shall need a 
 few things to go to work with. How are you off for 
 pocket-money, Hooke ? " 
 
 " Spent all I've brought, and my last week's allowance," 
 answered Teddy. " I shall have sixpence next Saturday, 
 but I don't see how I can spare it. You don't want to 
 borrow it, do you ? " 
 
 "Well, sixpence wouldn't be much help, or else I 
 might have put you in the way of making your fortune. 
 I'm pretty well off; I've had nothing much to spend mine 
 on since I came down here." 
 
 "No, you don't care for grub," said Teddy. "No 
 wonder the other fellows say you're so odd." 
 
 " I like to spend money sensibly," said John, in his 
 grandest tone, " and do something with it. What's the 
 good of throwing it away on cakes and lollipops ? Not 
 that I mean to hurt your feelings, Hooke. I suppose you 
 
126 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 can't help being so fond of eating. But you're a good fel- 
 low, and I think you've got more brains than people credit 
 you with ; and though you haven't got any money to put 
 into the concern, I don't mind making your fortune. I* 
 isn't much to do while one's about it," John continued, in 
 his loftiest tone. " But don't you think any of the others 
 have got some tin ? We must have some, you know. We 
 can't make gold without." 
 
 " There's Staples," replied Teddy ; " he's always got a 
 lot." 
 
 " Oh ! I don't want to have anything to do with Sta- 
 ples. He's one of those who thinks no one has a grain of 
 sense but themselves. Indeed, I don't like the sixth form 
 altogether. They're an envious lot — don't seem as if they 
 could forgive a fellow having more brains than they have. 
 No, I'll have nothing to do with any of them. But I think 
 there's little Rodwell, and Grosse ; and young Miles — if 
 he'll only leave off talking about his brother — I'll let him 
 in. It'll be a first-rate chance for him," added John, good 
 naturedly. " I don't think his people are very well off 
 Well, they might put in what little they've got. I'll throw 
 in all mine, and I expect I've as much as the rest of them 
 put together ; and will take you in for nothing, if you give 
 your services. You shall be secretary, and paid with a 
 share of the profits. Then you'll have to keep accounts, 
 and we'll share out according to what we put in. Of course 
 I shall have the most, but then I shall put the most in, be- 
 sides originating the idea, so that'll be only fair you know/ 
 
A JOINT-STOCK CONCERN. 127 
 
 Teddy nodded : " But what do you want money for, ii 
 you are going to make it ? " 
 
 " Oh ! you soft ! " cried John, impatiently ; "we can't 
 make money, any more than anything else, out of nothing. 
 We shall want a furnace and a crucible. I saw an earthen 
 pot as I came through the town, that I think would be just 
 the very thing. Then we shall want some chemicals. 
 Look here, I've written them all down. I did it while old 
 Flint had gone into the shop. I don't think I shall take 
 him into the concern — it mightn't be so pleasant for you 
 fellows. Indeed, I think if I had him in, he wouldn't come 
 to work with you, and I think, you know, when a fellow is 
 in a school," said John with an air of great magnanimity, 
 " he ought to stick by it." 
 
 " But where shall we put the furnace ? " asked Teddy. 
 *' I don't think the Doctor will give us leave to set it up 
 anywhere about the school." 
 
 " I don't suppose he will," cried John ; " and if he 
 would, I shouldn't be such a flat as to set the thing up 
 where all the fellows could see what was going on. I want 
 to keep this to ourselves. There's no need to have all the 
 school wanting to go shares with us, which they're safe u. 
 do when they find out what's going on. No ; I've got an 
 ' idea ' we might find a snug little corner somewhere about 
 this old place. There must be lots of odd nooks where we 
 might set up a furnace, and nobody be the wiser. Of 
 course it'll cost us something to buy it — that's what I want 
 you all to club together for. But it won't be much, and I 
 
128 THE BOY WITH AN- IDEA. 
 
 vote we come next half-holiday and look about for a hiding 
 place; and between this and then, we'll sound Rodwell 
 and Grosse, and little Miles, and see if they're willing to 
 go shares in the concern." 
 
 Teddy walked back to school very much puzzled, and 
 yet a little elated. John showed him, as they went through 
 the town, the earthen pot that he thought might be made to 
 serve for a crucible. What a " crucible " was, Teddy Hooke 
 had not the remotest idea, but altogether the notion of mak- 
 ing gold seemed such a very fine one, that he volunteered to 
 give up his next Saturday's sixpence towards the prelimin- 
 ary expenses. Little Miles, Grosse, and Rodwell were all 
 three ready to join and club their funds together. Teddy 
 Hooke was confirmed in his post of secretary — the duties 
 consisting in keeping an account of the expenditure and 
 the subsequent winnings. " And you just work well at 
 your figures," said John; "for when we do begin making 
 money, you'll find enough to do in keeping accounts ! " 
 
 Next half-holiday, John went off quietly to the Castle 
 to look for a suitable place for his furnace. He went 
 alone, that he might not attract attention ; and the boys 
 svho were in his confidence started off together, in order to 
 have a little quiet talk about the wonders they expected 
 John Ashdell would bring about for them. 
 
 The great things they were going to do ! Little Miles 
 
 said he wouid give his mother a pony-chaise, and his 
 
 brother a room full of books. Grosse said he would have 
 
 pony to Ivmself, and a velocipede. Rodwell would be 
 
A JOINT-STOCK CONCERN. 1 29 
 
 content with nothing less than a hunter ; while Teddy 
 Hooke said that he would have macaroons for breakfast 
 and plumcake for dinner every day of the week. They 
 looked very mysterious and very wise, and walked about 
 with a pleasant consciousness of their own importance the 
 whole of the afternoon, while John was peering into every 
 nook and corner of the Castle. 
 
 At last he met with an unexpected treasure. Down in 
 one of the vaults or cellars, of which I have spoken, he 
 came to what was certainly the remains of a stove, and in 
 very fine order. John made up his mind at once that 
 this must have been the furnace of some alchemist, who 
 had fixed his quarters there in old times. In truth, it had 
 been put in the Castle about half-a-century ago by an ec- 
 centric old man who chose to live rent-free, and had gain- 
 ed the nickname of Hincks the Miser. John looked well 
 about by the light of the candle which he carried with him, 
 and was satisfied that by a re-arrangement of the loose 
 stones lying about, their alchemic operations might be 
 carried on unmolested. The stove would want fixing a 
 little tighter, and of course firewood and coke would have 
 to be provided. " I should think they must have burned 
 coke in those days," said John; "it seems just the right 
 sort of thing for a stove like this. It never occurred to 
 John that coke could hardly have been burnt in days when 
 gas was unknown. 
 
 He was very much pleased with his discovery, but in- 
 stead of going at once to inform his friends of it, he thought 
 9 
 
I30 THE BOY {VI Til AN IDEA. 
 
 he would rather have a little talk with Reuben Flint. " I 
 said I would not have him in it at all, he thought, "but 
 I Jon't know that it will be quite wise to leave him out. 
 I shall want to look at that book every now and then, and 
 he might put a little money in the concern, besides getting 
 us some of the chemicals we're in want of. We might 
 have him in as a sort of sleeping partner — take his share 
 of the profits, but not meddle with the working of the af- 
 fair — I'll go and see what he says to it." 
 
 Reuben Flint was rather astonished when he heard 
 how much John had to say, but he shook his head hope- 
 lessly. " You'll do nothing with it — nothing. It's just 
 what so many have sought and failed to find ; but you 
 may see the book, and I can tell you where to get some 
 of the articles you want ; indeed, I think I could let you 
 have some of them myself. Come this way." 
 
 The old man led the way to the back of his shop, and 
 opening a door, John followed him into a small closet fit- 
 ted up with shelves, on which were ranged a number of 
 different bottles, while below were small boxes or caskets. 
 He looked at them sorrowfully and said, " It was a dear 
 bargain when I bought these, but I thought something 
 might be made of them when I did so." 
 
 Reuben Flint had been tempted some years ago to 
 purchase the contents of a gentleman's laboratory, and had 
 never yet found a customer for it. He had had at the 
 time a fancy for dabbling a little in chemistry himself, but 
 this had now passed away ; he was quite ready to sell the 
 
A JOINT-STOCK CONCERN. \y 
 
 contents of some of the bottles to John, declining, howevet 
 to give any other assistance. 
 
 " It'll just amuse you boys," he said, " and you ma) 
 as well be doing that as breaking windows or tormenting 
 cats. I'll let you, John, read the book for nothing, and 
 you shall have any of the ingredients you require for what 
 bhey cost me, only I hope you will not go blowing the old 
 Castle to pieces, or burning off your own fingers." 
 
 " Don't be afraid — we'll take care of ourselves," said 
 John. Then he inspected the bottles, and was too eager 
 to possess himself of some of their contents to wait till the 
 furnace was set up ; therefore Reuben Flint made him up 
 a parcel of each, and John found his way back to school 
 with it. 
 
 The next half-holiday saw John and his friends at work 
 in the vault of Bessingham Castle. They took off their 
 jackets, turned up their shirt-sleeves, and worked like so 
 many navvies. If they had only been set such a task as a 
 punishment, how they would have rebelled against it ! But 
 they toiled on, placing the stove more firmly, and building 
 up the loose stones that had fallen down at the entrance, 
 so as only to leave a narrow opening wide enough for one 
 of them to pass through at a time. This took them the 
 whole of the afternoon, and therefore they had to defer 
 commencing their experiments till the next half-holiday, 
 when John announced his intention of beginning in earnest. 
 
 How anxiously the boys looked forward to the coming 
 Wednesday ! They counted every hour. They were to be 
 
132 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 rich ! rich ! ! rich ! ! ! No amount of money won by sheer 
 painful labor, or persevering exertion, would have been 
 half so delightful in anticipation as the good fortune which 
 was t: come upon them — little Miles put it poetically and 
 classically, as Jupiter did — in a shower of gold. Theii 
 heads were fairly turned, they could think of nothing but 
 their coming wealth. As to their lessons, they were mat- 
 ters quite beneath their consideration — Teddy Hooke put 
 it plainly, " What's the good of a fellow cramming down 
 Greek and Latin, when he can get his own living just by 
 making a pot boil ? " 
 
 To which Grosse replied, "That's the only kind of 
 cramming you ever object to, Hooke." 
 
 Dr. Raven saw that there was something amiss, and he 
 remarked upon it to Mr. Vane, the second master. " Young 
 Ashdell is a clever fellow, but I'm afraid he's at some non- 
 sense or other, which has turned his own head and those 
 of the other boys, too. I hope they'll not be up to mis- 
 chief. Couldn't you give a hint to one or two of the sixth 
 form to keep an eye upon them out of school hours ? " 
 
 Mr. Vane promised to see what he could do, and the 
 Doctor himself spoke to Staples : " I wish you'd look after 
 that young Ashdell in a good-tempered way, without let- 
 ting him see it. I like the boy, and I really think he might 
 be a credit to the school if those precious ' ideas ' of his 
 don't run away with him. I should be obliged to you, Sta- 
 ples, if you would just see if you could keep him in check 
 a little." 
 
A JOINT-STOCK CONCERN. 133 
 
 Staples, like Mr. Vane, promised to do what he could, 
 but John and his friends went to work so quietly, that the 
 slightest idea of what they really were after, never occurred 
 to either of them. John went out quietly between hours 
 on the Monday and Tuesday and laid in a stock of fuel, car- 
 rying it in a bag, which he slung over his shoulder under 
 his Inverness-cape. It was late in the year to be wearing 
 such a thing, but that was John's affair. Staples, who saw 
 him going out with it, thought it might be one of his "ideas" 
 that he was likely to catch cold if he did not wrap up well, 
 and as John seemed as steady a boy as any in the school, 
 the absurdity of the notion only seemed the more in keep- 
 ing with his character. 
 
 John had a great many journeys to and from the Cas- 
 tle, but he went round-about ways to it, and sometimes en- 
 tered it on one side, sometimes on the other, so that Sta- 
 ples — who really was anxious to please the Doctor, and 
 keep John out of mischief, if possible, remarked to a school- 
 iellow " that there was nothing more peculiar in him than 
 that he was rather fond of taking strolls with Teddy Hookc, 
 who ought to act as lead to his quicksilver ; for if Ashdell 
 has more ' ideas ' than he knows what to do with, the other 
 has not one beyond getting a better pennyworth of cake or 
 apples than anybody else. 
 
 Wednesday came at last, and, luckily for these promis- 
 ing boys of ours (who had already begun to suspect that 
 Staples and " Weathercock" — which was their modification 
 of Mr. Vane's name — were " spying " on them), Staples 
 
134 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 went home for the day to see an uncle just returned from 
 India, and Mr. Vane was laid up with a sore throat. The 
 Doctor gave a caution about them just before dinner to a 
 junior master, but they had left ere he was aware of it, and 
 were within the Castle almost before he knew they had 
 left the playground. 
 
 Then they set to work. John had provided candles as 
 well as coke, and they were lit two at a time, and stuck in 
 physic bottles, which, as he said, made capital candlesticks 
 at a very cheap rate. They blocked the doorway pretty 
 well up, moving the stones in front of it, that no glimmer 
 of light should betray them ; then to carry out the thing 
 more fully, Grosse was set to keep watch with his eye at 
 an aperture between the stones. John had suggested that 
 he should walk up and down outside, and whistle if he saw 
 any one approaching ; but to this Grosse demurred, " he 
 wanted to see what was going on as well as the rest, and if 
 any of the fellows saw him outside they might smell a rat." 
 
 So John had to be content with stationing Grosse on 
 his knees before the stones, and then he went busily to 
 work, setting Miles to light the furnace, and Rodwell to stir 
 the contents of the crucible, into which he poured the differ- 
 ent ingredients with which Reuben Flint had supplied him. 
 
 I can't tell you what those boys felt while it was all 
 going on. They thought of Guy Fawkes and his barrels 
 of gunpowder under the Houses of Parliament, of coin- 
 ers, and of wizards. They seemed themselves turned into 
 something strange, and supernatural, and uncanny— each 
 
A JOINT-STOCK CONCERN. 135 
 
 one felt a little afraid even of himself, and a little more 
 of every other boy who was there. John was the master- 
 spirit amongst them all. They yielded at once to his as- 
 cendency, and as the fire burned in the stove, and threw a 
 dull lurid light on the grey stone walls, mouldering with 
 the damp of centuries, or on the creeping things that 
 crawled beneath their feet or climbed up the walls, they felt 
 as if they were taking part in some great mystery, and that 
 John, the prime agent of all, was little less than a sorcerer. 
 
 " It's beginning to melt," said John as he looked into 
 the pot, and even he, the boldest of them all, was afraid to 
 speak above his breath. 
 
 " May I come and see ? " said Grosse, from his peep-hole. 
 
 " Keep where you are ! " said John, sternly ; " You 
 shall see when the right time comes. Yes ! the different 
 metals are amalgamating — the baser things passing away 
 from sight before they merge their existence in the higher." 
 
 John thought he ought to talk fine under the circum- 
 stances, and was doing his best to recall the style in which, 
 in the different books he had read, alchemists spoke of 
 their mystery. Then he drew back from the crucible, and 
 struck his forehead in a kind of despair. 
 
 " What's up ? " asked Rodwell, as he stared. 
 
 " We've forgotten the one great ingredient — the king 
 of all — the master, without whose presence we shall never 
 be able to compel his servants to go on." 
 
 " I say, speak English," said Teddy Hooke, who sat 
 perched on a fragment of stone with his hands in his pock- 
 
136 THE BOY WITH AN 11JEA 
 
 ets. John had told him he would have nothing to do dur 
 ing the process but to look on and take notes — mental or 
 not — preparatory to his making a full report of all that 
 passed. It was with a view to the task thus assigned him 
 that Teddy said, " I can't put all this down, you know. I 
 never shall remember it." 
 
 " Can't we get him from the chemist's ? " asked Rodwell. 
 
 John shook his head. " Not that way, but we must 
 have him, Rodwell. It's gold we want ! — the presence of 
 gold is indispensable, and the old alchemists said so. 
 Sometimes their experiments failed from an insufficiency 
 of the precious metal, but I never knew of an experiment 
 being made where it was absent altogether." 
 
 "And we haven't got a sovereign between the whole 
 kit of us," said Grosse. 
 
 " But we've got more than a sovereign," replied John. 
 " At least you have, Rodwell. You can supply our need. 
 You can help us on our way to fortune. There's that watch 
 of yours — throw it now, this instant, into the pot, which is 
 now at boiling-point ! " 
 
 " Oh ! I say, I don't see that," cried Rodwell, putting 
 his hand over his watch. It was a large old-fashioned one, 
 and had belonged to his great-grandfather. " You've got 
 one of your own — why don't you put that in." 
 
 "So I would, but it's silver, and we must have gold. 
 I've got half-a-crown of my own stewing, but it hasn't be- 
 gun to melt yet. We must have gold, or we shall be at a 
 standstill. 
 
A JOINT-STOCK CONCERN. 137 
 
 " You ain't going to have my watch, I know," said Rod- 
 well, while the others looked at him as if they were consid- 
 ering the expediency of throwing him down, and taking 
 the watch by main force. Teddy Hooke began to reason 
 with him. 
 
 " You'll get lots of tin, you know, to buy another with, 
 Rodwell ; and that old thing never keeps time." 
 
 " I'm not going to have it melted down for all that," 
 said Rodwell. " I've put four-and-sixpence in this affair, 
 and I think that's enough for one fellow's share." 
 
 John looked very hopelessly at the crucible, and then 
 at the furnace. " I'm afraid we shall make a mess of it af- 
 ter all," he said, "and only for the want of a little gold !" 
 and then he looked at Rodwell, and so did all the other 
 boys, as if in keeping his watch he was the enemy of the 
 common weal. 
 
 Rodwell himself felt uncomfortable. " I shouldn't 
 mind," he said feebly, " only it's been so long in the family, 
 and if anything happens to it I shall get such a ' rowing ' 
 when I go home." 
 
 " There is one thing may do," said John. "That old 
 Trojan, whose book I've been reading, speaks of a mineral 
 which, if more freely used than gold may, to a certain ex- 
 tent, supply its place. I copied the name of it along with 
 the others, of which I took a memorandum. Here it is 
 — ' antimonium metallum aureum.' Now I wonder what 
 that is." 
 
 " Some stuff the maker of the book invented, I should 
 
138 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 say," said Teddy Hooke. " Never heard of such a thing 
 before." 
 
 " Dog Latin, I should call it," said little Miles. 
 
 " Well, whatever it is, it is the right thing for us to 
 have if we can't get gold, and gold there seems no getting. 
 Now my opinion is, old Flint's got it, if we can get it out 
 of him. I mentioned it to him, but he seemed to fight shy 
 of letting me have it. But I'm not going to be done by 
 him. He is at a sale to-day at old Squire Middleton's, but 
 I think the old lady will let me have it. The thing is, 
 who's to go for it. If I leave, everything's safe to go 
 wrong." 
 
 " The broth will be in the fire, if you ain't here to keep 
 the pot boiling," said Teddy Hooke. 
 
 " Don't be vulgar, Hooke. Some one must go and get 
 the ' antimonium metallum aureum,' and I think we can 
 spare you better than any of the rest." 
 
 " All right," said Teddy, who did not find his seat a 
 very comfortable one, I'll go, but you must write down the 
 name of that thing ; I never can remember all that stuff, 
 you know." 
 
 John wrote it down with a pencil on the envelope of a 
 letter which he had in his pocket, and Teddy departed, 
 Grosse looking out very carefully first to see that the coast 
 was clear ; then the stones were replaced, and they went 
 on with their operations. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 WHAT TEDDY FOUND IN THE IRON CHEST, AND WHAT HE 
 BROUGHT BACK IN THE WOODEN BOX. HOW JOHN'S 
 POT BOILED OVER. 
 
 ' I ^EDDY found Mrs. Flint at home, and sitting by the 
 ■*■ fire, stirring broth again. She seemed always to be by 
 the fire, and always to be stirring broth. She looked drow- 
 sily up as Teddy went in, and said Mr. Flint is not at 
 home ; you had better call another day." That was always 
 her formula when any one went in during her husband's 
 absence. 
 
 "You'll do," said Teddy; "I dare say you can let me 
 have what I want," and he took out his paper, and read the 
 three mystical words to her. 
 
 " Don't sell it here," said Mrs. Flint ; " you'd better try 
 the grocer." 
 
 " I daren't go to the grocer ; Ashdell said I was not to 
 let any one but you know what I wanted," said Teddy ; " I 
 say, just look about and see if you haven't got it. It must 
 be here somewhere. I'll stir the pot for you, if you 1'ke, 
 while you are looking." 
 
140 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 Mrs. Flint got up to look, grumbling as she went. Ted 
 dy stirred the contents of the saucepan, and presently Mrs. 
 Flint came back, and said that nowhere could she find a 
 bottle or box with the queer words on it that were written 
 on the paper which Teddy had shown her. 
 
 "Let me look," said Teddy, and he pushed past the 
 old lady, who grumbled more than ever at his imperti- 
 nence, and went into the closet where the different chemi- 
 cals were kept. " Looks like a doctor's shop," said Teddy 
 " only there's no bottles of lozenges. I say, old lady, have 
 you looked into that box ? " and he went towards an old 
 iron chest in the corner. " I dare say now you've got some- 
 thing good stowed away there." 
 
 " Oh, go away, do ! go away ! " cried Mrs. Flint. " What 
 business have boys like you to come speering and spying 
 about, and, oh, dear ! oh, dear ! there's my stew boiling 
 over. Such a waste of good stuff; and all through looking 
 after you." 
 
 " Good stuff, indeed ! " said Teddy : " I should be very 
 sorry to have to swallow the mess ; but Mrs. Flint did not 
 hear this polite remark, as she was now busy taking her 
 saucepan off the fire. Teddy lifted up the lid of the iron 
 chest and peeped curiously in. He was rather glad of the 
 opportunity of looking about Reuben Flint's domain, as 
 the boys had such wonderful stories to tell of the old miser 
 and his ways. The first thing Teddy saw ii the chest was 
 an old Cashmere shawl ; it had been worth a great deal of 
 tno'iey in its time, but it was faded and dingy now. He 
 
WHAT TEDDY FOUND. 141 
 
 moved this, and underneath saw something that made him 
 shrink back with affright. It was a grinning skull ! Tedd) 
 had almost put his finger into its mouth before he was 
 aware of it. He drew his hand back in a much greater 
 hurry than he had put it in. " Don't like meddling with 
 that customer," said Teddy. " Suppose this skull was to 
 haunt me." 
 
 Still Teddy felt curious, though frightened ; he should 
 like to see what else Flint kept in his iron chest. 
 
 " Suppose I find a pot of gold that he's forgotten," said 
 Teddy. " He never can remember all the odds and ends 
 he's got about the place." 
 
 He threw the shawl over the skull, and went on with 
 his investigation. There was a bundle of what Teddy took 
 for rags, but which, in reality, was an old brocade dress 
 which Reuben Flint had purchased with some other arti- 
 cles. Tossing this over, Teddy found his finger caught by 
 something more sharp-toothed than the skull, and uttered a 
 perfect shriek of pain as he tried vainly to draw his hand 
 away from the iron prongs of a rat-trap, which had lain 
 perdu under the shawl. He pulled out hand, trap and all, 
 and went dancing about in his agony, shrieking wildly, till 
 Mrs. Flint came to his assistance. 
 
 She did nothing but scold him at first, upon which Ted- 
 dy forgot both his manners and his patience. " Hold your 
 row!" he said, "and try and get this thing off — gently — 
 gently — ugh ! you're driving it further in. Whatever does 
 possess Flint to keep such a lot of rubbish in that old thing ? " 
 
142 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 " What possesses you to go hunting in my husband's 
 places ? " asked Mrs. Flint, not without reason. " Oh dear ! 
 oh dear ! there's a customer in the shop ! I do wish Mr. 
 Flint would lock it up and take the key with him when- 
 ever he goes out. It's the only way to keep it clear of you 
 boys. It's too bad that quiet folks like us, who never had 
 any boys of our own, should be plagued so by other people's." 
 
 Away she went to the customer, and Teddy thought he 
 would search a little deeper in the chest. " I'm persuaded 
 the ' mony lorum ' is there. It puts me in mind of a story 
 I've heard little Miles tell of how a treasure was found. 
 There's the skull to frighten you away, — I think it was a 
 skeleton as he told it, — and the trap to bite you, if you 
 will go on. It was alive in his tale. Never mind, Mrs. 
 Flint, I ain't so easily frightened. I'm going to look for 
 the ' mony lorum '. I wish the thing had not got such a 
 plaguey long name. If I do find it, I ought to have a 
 double share of this pot's boiling, if only to pay for the bite." 
 
 He went on with his search, but more carefully, lest 
 there should be another trap set to snare him, and present- 
 ly came across a small wooden casket or box, looking at 
 least a hundred years old, and with a half-illegible brass 
 inscription on the lid. 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder but this is it," said Teddy. " I wish 
 I could make out the letters. I'm certain it's an A, and 
 there's M. I do believe I've got the right thing. I wish I 
 could open the box and see the color. I wonder if the old 
 lady will let me have it. I think I'll cut with it, without 
 
WHAT TEDDY FOUND. I43 
 
 asking her. She's safe to make a fuss ; perhaps won't let me 
 have it at all; and John can settle with the old man afterwards." 
 
 He was so delighted with the thought of having secured 
 the prize they were in want of, that he never stopped to 
 consider the propriety of the matter, but hurried off, squeez- 
 ing the box in the inside pocket of his jacket. Mrs. Flint 
 was still engaged with the customer, a lady who, driving 
 through the town, had been attracted by some of the old 
 carvings in the window, and alighted to ask their price. 
 Mrs. Flint did not notice Teddy as he went through, being 
 just then trying to pull an old chair forward which the lady 
 wished to have a better view of. Teddy hurried on, and 
 was very soon in the Castle and before the vault, where he 
 knocked three several times, as had been agreed, at the 
 stone before the opening, with a pebble he had picked up 
 for that purpose. These knocks were given with such 
 solemnity, that if Teddy had been before a robber's cave he 
 could not have performed them with better effect. 
 
 The stones were moved away, and those within said 
 eagerly, " Have you got it, old fellow ? What a precious 
 long time you have been ! " 
 
 " I've got it," said Teddy ; " at least I think so. But 
 you don't know what a hunt I've had for it. I say, how 
 dark this place is ! You'll never be able to see whether 
 it's the right stuff or not." 
 
 " Snuff the candles, Rodwell," said John, which Rodwell 
 did, with tis fingers. "Now, Teddy, let's see what you've 
 got." 
 
144 THE B0Y WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 Teddy was in no hurry to produce the box, but wanted 
 first of all to impress his friends with an idea of the great 
 efforts he had made to procure it. His description of the 
 iron chest, the skull, and the trap, thrilled them with 
 mingled delight and horror. They were all of one opinion 
 that a treasure so carefully guarded was likely to be the 
 " real thing," as John expressed it, and they were disposed 
 to think a little more of Teddy Hooke than they had ever 
 done before. 
 
 John brought the box to the candles. " There's an A 
 on it — you're right, Hooke — and I can make out N and M. 
 Shouldn't wonder at all but this is the thing we want. 
 The book says a blue-greyish powder. If we can open 
 the box, and find it the right color, we may make sure that 
 it's the same. The thing is, how to open it." 
 
 " Break the lid open with the poker," said Rod well, 
 taking up a small piece of iron which did duty for that 
 article. " Bring it here, and let's have it open." 
 
 He stood by the furnace with the poker in his hand. 
 John hurried to look at his melting-pot. "It's all going 
 on finely ; if that is the right thing — and something tells 
 me, Teddy, that it is — our fortunes are all made. I say, 
 won't we give the whole school a tuck out, and have a 
 good flare up in honor of it ! " 
 
 Little Miles went on stirring the pot. John held the 
 box with the lid upwards, so that Rodwell could bring the 
 poker down on it ; then Rodwell hesitated. 
 
 " I say, after all, the box is not ours, and breaking a 
 
WHAT TEDDY FOUND. 145 
 
 lock is a serious matter. We may get into a precious 
 scrape." 
 
 "I'll make it all right with old Flint," cried John, 
 eagerly. " We'll give him a share in the concern, if that's 
 all. We can't lose our share now, you know, just because 
 Teddy did not settle the price with him. Now bring the 
 poker well down on the middle. We shall spill a little if 
 the box is full ; but never mind, I dare say there will be 
 enough. Oh! I say, if it should be the right thing! It 
 takes my breath away to think of it ! " 
 
 Down came the poker on the very centre of the box, 
 and whiz ! fiz ! bang ! crash ! every boy in that vault 
 thought the Castle was coming down upon him. John 
 had talked of having a "flare up," and there was one 
 indeed ! The furnace threw out flames that reached to 
 the ceiling, the whole place was full of foul air and sul- 
 phurous smoke, which seemed determined to find vent, 
 rend the very stones, and burst out in spite of those at the 
 door. There was a great cry from every boy present, as, 
 bruised and bleeding, they tried to make their way out, 
 but fell senseless one on the other, just at the opening 
 which the explosion had made. John remained behind, 
 more seriously hurt than any, not having the power even 
 to make an effort to escape, while the box that had caused 
 all this mischief rolled towards the door, and was fortun- 
 ately too far from the furnace to do any further mischief. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE DOCTOR FINDS HE HAS A TROUBLESOME PUPIL. JOHN 
 IS DISGUSTED WITH THE INGRATITUDE OF HIS FRIENDS. 
 
 [~~\R. RAVEN looked round that evening when the boys 
 ■*-^ met together at the hour of study to prepare their 
 lessons for the next day, and saw some few absent. 
 "Where's Ashdell?" he asked, but that was more than 
 any one could tell him. The Doctor felt uneasy. " That 
 boy has been up to some mischief," was his thought ; " I 
 hope he hasn't any of the others with him." 
 
 But it soon became apparent that he had, as Rodwell, 
 Grosse, Miles, and Hooke, failed to respond when called 
 upon. The Doctor's misgivings returned, and he went up 
 to Mr. Vane's room to see if he could give him any clue 
 as to the whereabouts of the absentees. 
 
 All Mr. Vane could tell him was that Ashdell and the 
 others had been rather fond of strolling towards the Castle 
 lately, but that that was a favorite lounge with most 
 new boys, and he had thought it nothing particular in 
 Ashdell going there, nor in the others accompanying him. 
 It was possible that they might have strayed beyond bounds 
 
A TROUBLESOME PUPIL. 147 
 
 and lost their way, in which case they would be sure to 
 return sooner or later, very much crestfallen, and a severe 
 imposition would teach them to keep within limits for the 
 future. 
 
 "That is all I should apprehend myself," said the 
 Doctor, "in the case of any boy but Ashdell, but he is 
 such an odd fellow. I have been afraid, ever since he 
 came to the school, of some outbreak or another, or rathei 
 of his very eccentric genius leading him into some serious 
 scrape. I don't believe now that he's been up to anything 
 really wrong, but he's done something foolish, and per- 
 suaded the others to join him in it. I shouldn't be sat- 
 isfied without going round the Castle myself. I'll take 
 Stebbs with me ; he knows the whole place thoroughly, and 
 if they are there he'll find them. 
 
 Stebbs was the school porter, and had lived in the town 
 from his boyhood. The Doctor told him to accompany him, 
 and bring a dark lantern with him. He was afraid some 
 of the pupils had gone to the Castle, and lost their way in 
 the underground vaults. The Doctor's own idea was that 
 John might possibly have taken it into his head that he 
 could discover a treasure by digging for it ; he never 
 imagined that he had dreamed of making one. He said 
 nothing to the other masters, and slipped out quietly and 
 walked on towards the Castle, followed by Stebbs. 
 
 It was a lovely night, clear and moonlight. The old 
 castie looked grand in the white silvery light, but the 
 Doctor, though a lover of the picturesque, was too full of 
 
148 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 anxiety to think about that. On he stepped, looking 
 keenly about for the missing boys, and at last, raising his 
 voice, called them by name. But no answer came, and 
 the Doctor was thinking of ascending the steps that led tc 
 the summit of the highest tower, in order that he might 
 see whether his pupils had mounted there, when Stebbs 
 suggested that they should look below first. 
 
 " There's a mort o' places lads like they might hide in, 
 where they'd never hear the sound o' voice if they wanted 
 tew answer it, Doctor. Let's take them first, and I'll turn 
 my light on full." 
 
 So he did, and down the Doctor went to parts he had 
 never been before, familiar as he thought himself with the 
 Castle's damp slippery steps, down which he often thought 
 he should fall, and through vaults and cellars one after the 
 other, where the darkness was so dense, that the lantern 
 only threw a feeble light for a yard or so around and left 
 the rest in gloom. 
 
 "They could never have come here," he said. "I knew 
 there were queer nooks in the old place when I told you to 
 bring your lantern, but nothing like this. No, I think we 
 must look for them elsewhere. This is too unlikely." 
 
 " The more unlikely the better chance o' findin' them, 
 sir," said Stebbs. "That's my experience o' boys, sir. 
 If they're missin', just go and look in the last place that 
 they had oughter be in, and you'll be pretty sure to come 
 across them. They may ha' been huntin' for bogies. 
 Foolish folk hev a mort o' stories about this place, an th« 
 
A TROUBLESOME PUPIL. 149 
 
 young gentlemen may ha' thou't they'd just see if some o 
 them wern't there. Hark ! was that a groan dew you 
 think, sir?" 
 
 The Doctor listened, and gave it as his opinion that it 
 was a groan. It came from beneath them. Looking 
 about as well as the insufficient light the lantern gave would 
 permit, they saw, a few steps to the right, and below, a faint 
 glimmer of light. " There's somethin' up, here," said 
 Stebbs. " Let's go down tew see." 
 
 Down the steps they went, and came to another large 
 vault, at the end of which they perceived an aperture, 
 through which the dull red light they had noticed showed 
 itself. They walked on and again heard the groan repeat- 
 ed, only more distinctly, and then a voice in troublous tones 
 as if smothered with sighs, but which reminded the Doc- 
 tor of Teddy Hooke's when his mouth was full of pudding, 
 say — 
 
 " You said we should have a flare up, Ashdell, and I 
 think we've had one. Oh ! I say, however are we to get 
 out of this precious mess ? " 
 
 " There they are, sir ! " whispered Stebbs to his master, 
 " and I should say they've had some nice rigs. Shouldn't 
 wonder by their talk but that they've blown half their legs 
 and arms off! " 
 
 The Doctor stepped forward, and presently trod on 
 something which close inspection showed him was a boy. 
 It was Rodwell, who moved cowering under the Doctor's 
 foot. 
 
150 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 "Is that you, Ashdell ? Oh! I say, haven't we gone 
 and done it ! Why didn't you tell us you were going to 
 blow us all up, like so many Guy Fawkeses ? " 
 
 " Nice young gentleman that Master Ashdell seems, 
 tew be sure ! " said Stebbs. " He'll kill half the school, if 
 he's let tew have his own way." 
 
 By the light of the lantern the Doctor saw two other 
 boys, and, looking at them more closely, recognized Miles 
 and Grosse. They showed signs of returning conscious- 
 ness, but had evidently been seriously hurt. The Doctor, 
 however, thought there was no cause for any great alarm 
 on their account. He was anxious, however, to discover 
 the author of the mischief. 
 
 " I hope Ashdell hasn't killed himself," he said, gravely; 
 " I can see nothing of him." 
 
 " He may have made a thorough job of it as far as he's 
 concerned, and blown himself tew bits," said Stebbs ; " but 
 I don't think it's likely ; I expect there's a deal of mischief 
 yet waitin' in this world for that young gentleman tew 
 dew." 
 
 " Bring the light this way, Stebbs, and let's look here," 
 said the Doctor, and he stooped his stately height, and 
 made his way through the aperture. 
 
 The small space within was lighter than the larger vault 
 out of which it opened, owing to the fire in the stove, which 
 had not yet gone out, and from which the light the Doctor 
 and Stebbs had seen came. Very near the stove, crouched 
 in a heap, head, hands, and knees all together, looking the 
 
A TROUBLESOME PUPIL. 151 
 
 very picture of helpless, hopeless misery, sat John Ashdell. 
 The Doctor was about to speak to him when his foot struck 
 against something on the floor, and picking it up he found 
 that it was a small wooden box. 
 
 John raised his head languidly as he did so, then gave 
 a groan. 
 
 " That's it — that's done it." 
 
 Then he relapsed into silence, as if speech were ai- 
 effort too great for him. 
 
 " Done what ? " said the Doctor, as he turned the box 
 over. " Stebbs, bring your light here for a moment." 
 
 He held the box close to the lantern and examined its 
 contents, of which there was still a small portion remaining. 
 " Hum," he said, " I suppose you mean this stuff has pretty 
 well blown you up. I don't wonder at it. What business 
 have you to go meddling with gunpowder ? " 
 
 " Gunpowder ! " cried John, " and that flat, Hooke, 
 brought it for the ' antimonium metallum aureum.' Oh dear ! 
 what is the good of trying to make the fortunes of a set of 
 fellows like these ? " 
 
 " I think the sooner you're all away from this the bet- 
 ter," said the Doctor, " or we may have another explosion. 
 Stebbs, see if you can help me bring these unhappy boys 
 up the stairs. Then I'll get you to go back to the school 
 for assistance to carry them there." 
 
 " I think I can walk, sir," said John, and he tried, with 
 the Doctor's assistance. " Oh dear ! I feel so queer — and 
 — and — what's the matter with my face ? " 
 
152 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 He passed his hand over it as he spoke, and observed, 
 " I don't believe I've a bit of eyebrow left." 
 
 " I dare say not," said the Doctor. "You may feel very 
 thankful you've got your head still on your shoulders." 
 
 As they passed out, Teddy Hooke raised his head gen- 
 tly. " Is that you, Ashdell ? Isn't this a precious go ? " 
 
 " Mind what you're about," said Stebbs, " it's the 
 Doctor." 
 
 Hooke began to cry. 
 
 " Oh, please sir, we were led into it — it was none of 
 our doing." 
 
 John turned from him with contempt : " Hooke, you 
 don't deserve to have a friend. You don't know, sir," he 
 added, addressing the Doctor, "what I meant to do for 
 that fellow." 
 
 " You shall tell me all about it another time," said the 
 Doctor ; "I've no doubt your intentions were excellent, 
 but you seem to have adopted rather an unfortunate way 
 of carrying them out." 
 
 Miles, Grosse, and Rodwell, followed by Hooke, all in 
 a woful state of bewilderment, not at all sure where they 
 were, or what had happened to them, were supported up 
 and out into the air ; there the Doctor remained with them 
 while Stebbs went to the school-house and presently re- 
 turned with Mr. Raven's pony-chaise, in which they were all 
 squeezed together, the Doctor thinking the sooner they 
 were in their beds the better. John volunteered to walk 
 home, which he did, with the Doctor's assistance. He had 
 
A TROUBLESOME PUPIL. 153 
 
 very little to say; all his loquacity seemed to have de- 
 serted him ; he was for the time thoroughly crestfallen and 
 humbled. 
 
 " I shouldn't mind anything," he said, in answer to the 
 Doctor's inquiries about his hurts, "if it wasn't for the 
 ingratitude of those fellows. They deserve to have a 
 friend who nearly kills himself in trying to serve them ! " 
 
 " But, at the same time, Ashdell, you've nearly killed 
 them," said the Doctor, " which perhaps may have some- 
 thing to do with lessening their gratitude." 
 
 John said no more. He was too tired and worn. He 
 was got to bed, and medical assistance being sent for at 
 once, he and his friends were ordered to remain there, 
 which they did for some days to come. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A NEW WAY OF ANGLING. HOW, IN TRYING TO t UCfl * 
 DUCK, JOHN MADE A GOOSE OF HIMSELF. 
 
 JOHN was very unhappy after this affair. He said ne 
 should be ashamed to show his face in the school again, 
 and there really was some reason for his saying so. His 
 eyebrows were burnt, his hair was singed, and he had sev- 
 eral scars on his face. The Doctor was very kind to him. 
 He pointed out the folly of his late proceedings, demon- 
 strated to his own satisfaction, if not to John's, the impos- 
 sibility of making gold from inferior substances, told him 
 different stories about the old alchemists, and dwelt on the 
 clandestine nature of the whole proceeding. John was very 
 sorry he had grieved his master. He was beginning to like 
 the Doctor very much, and he felt a little ashamed of his 
 conduct to him. There was no fear of his trying to make 
 gold again ; the failure of this experiment would be suffi- 
 cient ; and for once he imputed that failure, not to some 
 unfortunate accident, but to the thing itself being one that 
 did not deserve to succeed. The conduct of Hooke grieved 
 him very much; and the others, when they got better, Haid 
 
A NEW WAY OF ANGLING. 155 
 
 some very unpleasant things to him about the money they 
 had embarked in the " concern," and the total loss there 
 seemed likely to be. John promised to pay them all back 
 as soon as he could, and this had some effect in mollifying 
 their feelings towards him. He said, however, that the first 
 person to be repaid was certainly old Flint. " You fellows 
 went into this with your eyes open, but he was regularly 
 cheated out of his gunpowder, and the box has got the lock 
 broken." 
 
 The Doctor, however, took another view of the matter. 
 He said that Hooke, having run away with the box, was 
 bound to make reparation to Flint for whatever loss he had 
 sustained ; and Master Teddy had his pocket-money stopped 
 accordingly, and felt himself, for some time to come, a very 
 ill-used boy. 
 
 Rodwell Grosse, and little Miles, too, were shy of John 
 for a while, but Hooke was the first to forget what had 
 passed, or, rather, to appear to do so. Perhaps it was 
 partly due to a large hamper which John received from 
 home, and the contents of which he was quite ready to 
 share. Indeed, he was so good-natured that the better 
 disposed of his schoolfellows found it impossible not to 
 like him ; although, of course, in a great public school 
 like this, John found his "ideas" produce more ridicule 
 than they had ever done before. The hamper, however, 
 went a long way towards making matters pleasant with 
 others than Teddy Hooke, and John receiving soon after 
 a very handsome tip from an old friend of his father's, 
 
i50 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 who came to see him, he was able to reimburse his friends 
 for their pecuniary loss in the great experiment of gold- 
 making, and so, as he said to himself, " shut up theii 
 mouths for them." 
 
 That was all very well, but he couldn't shut up every- 
 body's mouth, and though the boys liked him very much, 
 still they could not refrain from asking him when he was 
 going to pave the streets with gold, or how long it was 
 since his pot left off boiling, or if he was going to set 
 up private diggings of his own ; all these little allu- 
 sions were anything but pleasant to John's feelings. He 
 had two or three fights. John was not a boy to fight if 
 he could help it, but, when he did, it was in thorough 
 earnest, and, after a time, he was left in some degree of 
 peace, which, however, could not prevent his entertaining 
 a rankling feeling of despondency that the new world, in 
 which he had so hoped to distinguish himself, should 
 have thus disappointed him. 
 
 After a while Teddy Hooke and he became as good 
 friends as ever. John could not exist without some one to 
 talk to, and Teddy, after swallowing such an ample share of 
 the contents of the hamper as he had done, felt disposed 
 to swallow almost anything else from John. They went to 
 the Castle again. John had given his word of honor to 
 the Doctor that he would not repeat his experiment in 
 gold-making, but even if he had not promised, he would 
 have refrained from anything of the kind. John never re- 
 peated his experiments if they were unsuccessful ones, but 
 
A NEW WAY OF ANGLING. 157 
 
 always turned his attention to something else, and it was 
 not very long before he began to talk to Teddy about a 
 new "idea" that had dawned upon his mind. 
 
 This, like the last, was not an original one. I don't 
 know whether any of you boys have ever read Washington 
 Irving's very charming book " The Alhambra ; " but when 
 I had the great pleasure, I was very much struck by a 
 description he gives of the angling in the air which some 
 of the inhabitants of the grand old Moorish palace were 
 in the habit of practising. Mr. Vane lent this book to 
 John, thinking that he certainly would get nothing out of 
 that ; but, of course, this angling for birds, being the one 
 odd, peculiar notion in the volume, Master John seized 
 upon it, and was as delighted with it as if it had been his 
 own. 
 
 He didn't say anything to Mr. Vane about the " idea," 
 but he did to Teddy, who thought it, on the whole, a very 
 good one. "Much better than trapping the poor things," 
 said John, "worrying and torturing them. Now, when 
 you catch them, you can put them out of their misery at 
 once." 
 
 " But what shall we do with them when we have put 
 them out of it ? " asked Teddy ; " we can't eat them all." 
 
 " I didn't think of eating any," said John ; " my notion 
 was to form a collection of stuffed birds, a little ornitho- 
 logical museum ; old Flint's going to show me how to 
 stuff them, and he says if I get a real good kingfisher 01 
 a woodpecker, I might make something by it. I shouldn't 
 
158 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 mind selling one or two, for after paying all you fellows 
 back what you put into that unlucky affair, I am very 
 short just now." 
 
 " Roasted larks are very nice !" observed Teddy ; "so 
 are sparrows ! " 
 
 " Well, you get a hook and catch as many as you 
 please, and we'll cook them on the top of the tower up 
 there ; that's where I am going fishing from." 
 
 "If they see smoke, they'll think we're making gold 
 again," said Teddy ; " no, I'll cook my birds down on the 
 ground — when I've caught 'em." 
 
 John and he set to work to manufacture lines and look 
 for bait. They got quite a tinful of fine lively worms, 
 which they thought more likely to attract birds than 
 butterflies or other insects. Whether the birds would 
 ever inquire how it was that worms came floating in the 
 air, they did not trouble themselves to ask, but took it 
 for granted they would be glad of worms, let them find 
 them where they might. The lines were very strong, of 
 the best catgut. " They would pull up a twenty-pound 
 salmon out of the water," John said, " let alone a bird, that 
 wouldn't weigh as many ounces, out of the air." And the 
 next half-holiday they went to the Castle, crept up the 
 ruinous stairs of the tower, and set to work to catch birds. 
 
 They were not so lucky as Washington Irving's ang- 
 lers ; perhaps English birds are more cunning than 
 Spanish ones ; but round and round the old tower the 
 swallows flew and flitted in and out of their nests, and 
 
A NEW WAY OF ANGLING. 159 
 
 the sparrows chirruped and chattered, and the wrens and 
 thrushes sang their notes of wonderment at the oddity of 
 an unhappy worm dangling midway in the air ; but not 
 one of them cared to take the tempted morsel. Teddy 
 got out of all patience. " I think I'll try the other side ; " 
 he said, " all the birds that build on this are too shy and 
 frightened to be any good." 
 
 The other side of the tower looked down upon a road 
 which led into the town. It was not much frequented, 
 save by carters and wagoners, who sometimes drove their 
 vehicles along here to avoid the toll-gate at the other end 
 of Bessingham. The tower on this side had one advantage 
 for our two anglers — the battlements were not nearly so 
 much broken away, consequently they would be better 
 hidden from the birds below them. They had selected 
 the side looking into the Castle court-yard at first as 
 being the quietest, but John agreed with Teddy that it 
 would be useless remaining there longer. 
 
 They sat and angled for some time in vain ; not a bird 
 seemed to care for the poor red wriggling bait that floated 
 in the air. At last there came by a cartload of ducks, 
 gabbling and quacking away, and they were met by a 
 wagon coming from the town, piled high with the wet 
 straw and litter from different stables, which was being 
 taken to some farmer's for manure. 
 
 "I wonder whether one of those ducks would bite," 
 thought Teddy ; " what a fine roast he'd make if he would," 
 and down went his hook right in the centre of the cart. 
 
160 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 The ducks were hungry, and perhaps they did noi 
 think it quite so strange that a worm should come down 
 into their midst as did the wilder birds of the air. Every 
 one of them had eyes for the prize ; they quacked louder 
 than ever, and at last one sturdy drake succeeded in secur- 
 ing the tempting mouthful, but found, when he attempted 
 to swallow it, that he had more than he had bargained for, 
 the hook sticking fast in his throat. 
 
 Away he went up in the air, and the driver of the cart, 
 as he turned his head to see what this unusual commotion 
 was amongst his ducks, stared at seeing one of them flying 
 with flapping wings and outstretched neck up to the very 
 summit of the tower. Never had duck flown in such a 
 manner before, or to such a height. If they should all 
 follow this one's example, and go after their comrade to 
 the top of the tower ! 
 
 He was all but up, all but over, and Teddy was rejoic- 
 ing in his success, while John was so cheered with the re- 
 sult of his experiment, that he quite forgot that it was not 
 a very honest one, and then down went the duck ! Teddy 
 had not drawn his line in sufficiently, and the bird, to 
 those below, seemed to have thought better of matters, 
 and to be making up his mind to travel to the town peace- 
 ably with his companions. 
 
 But he could not retrrn to the cart, even if he wished 
 it, or if those above had been disposed to let him do so. 
 The horse had gone on a few paces unchecked by the 
 driver in his first astonishment, and now, right under the 
 
A NEW WAY OF ANGLING. i6l 
 
 tower in the very spot from which Master Drake had been 
 elevated, stood the wagon with its load of manure, its 
 driver quite as much astonished at the extraordinary gyra- 
 tions of the bird as his owner had been. 
 
 " Just catch him for me, will ye," shouted the latter, 
 and the wagoner put up his two hands to seize the 
 drake, which again soared slowly but most mysteriously up 
 into the air. John was pulling him in, now he had taken 
 the rod and line from Teddy, and was really showing con- 
 siderable science by the manner in which he hauled the 
 drake in. But the wagoner had keener eyes than the 
 driver of the cart, and he saw the rope projecting be- 
 tween the battlements of the tower, and formed some 
 idea of the manner in which the bird had been hooked. 
 
 " I'll stop yewre tricks ! " he cried, and rising on the 
 footboard of the wagon, seized the duck. John was 
 furious at the thought of losing his bird. That he should 
 lose his prize just in the very moment of successful cap- 
 ture ! He would have given, if he had had it, the price 
 of half-a-dozen ducks to have saved that one. He pulled, 
 and the wagoner pulled ; then John stooped forward in 
 order to draw in the line better, and the man below, seeing 
 him, tugged yet harder, thinking to break the line and save 
 the duck. He succeeded in breaking it, and succeeded in 
 doing something else, for John, stooping forward, lost his 
 balance, and, to Teddy's horror, fell toppling over. 
 
 " He'll break his neck ! " cried that young gentleman ; 
 
 and, Teddy's first thought generally being for himself, he 
 11 
 
162 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 added, " I wonder what they'll do to me for being with 
 him ? " 
 
 Teddy sat down and crouched behind the battlements. 
 
 If those fellows below haven't seen me, perhaps nothing 
 
 will come of it. I think I'll keep quiet where I am till 
 
 they've gone. Then I'll get down and look after Ashdell. 
 
 But what ever shall I do with him if he's killed outright ? " 
 
 Teddy was too afraid to stir for full five minutes, and 
 when he did get up and peer over the battlements, not a 
 vestige could he see of either ducks, drake, cart, wagon, 
 their respective drivers, or John. He took comfort from 
 the disappearance of the latter. " I suppose he has picked 
 himself up again, and will soon be coming here. Well, 
 don't think I shall stop any longer. I'll go down and tell 
 him, as I meet him, that I've had enough of this fun. It 
 isn't worth while taking the chance of being broken to 
 pieces for all the birds in the world." 
 
 Then he went down the steep broken stairs, expecting 
 at every step to meet John, but still without doing so. 
 He looked about at the bottom of the tower for him, and 
 searched through the court-yard ; then he made up his 
 mind he had gone home. 
 
 " Hurt himself, I suppose, or perhaps got the duck 
 after all, and sneaked away with it. Mean, I call that ! 
 what I shouldn't have thought Ashdell would have done. 
 When I do see him, I'll let him know what I think of him." 
 
 And back to the school playground went Teddy 
 Hooke, full of wrath against the boy he called his 
 
A NEW WAY OF ANGLING. 163 
 
 friend ; and inclined, like a great many people much 
 older and wiser than he was, to judge every one else 
 by himself, which, let me tell you, my boys, is not always 
 the best mode of coming to a correct estimate of other 
 people. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A SENSATION AT SCHOOL. A SCOLDING FOR TEDDY HOOKE, 
 AND ANOTHER MOONLIGHT SEARCH BY THE DOCTOR. 
 
 T T OWEVER, John had not gone back to school, 
 -*• *■ either with or without the duck, for Teddy saw 
 nothing of him when he returned there ; saw nothing of 
 him, either, when the boys assembled for tea, nor even 
 wnen they were gathered together for prayers. Then the 
 Doctor grew angry, and alarmed as well. " This will 
 never do," he said aside to Mr. Vane ; " this one boy is 
 a greater charge than the whole school ; I wish he had 
 never set his foot in it ; and yet I like the lad, too." 
 
 Then inquiries were made of every one, whether or not 
 they could tell anything of Ashdell. Teddy kept a dis- 
 creet silence — "Got into a row about the ducks and 
 bolted," he thought; "cut away home, I suppose; or else 
 they have taken him to jail for trying to steal one. Well, 
 I don't, think I'll say anything about it. I can't do Ashdell 
 any good, and may do myself a great deal of harm, so I'll 
 just keep quiet." 
 
 But Master Teddy was not allowed to keep quiet 
 
A SENSATION AT SCHOOL. 165 
 
 Most of the boys were ready to say that he and Jchn 
 had gone out together ; and several knew they had visited 
 the Castle that afternoon. " That unlucky Castle ! " 
 groaned the Doctor. " I wonder what is the last ' idea 
 he's been trying to carry out in the old place." Then he 
 insisted on Teddy's acquainting him with all the particu- 
 lars of their recent visit there ; where they had been, and 
 what they had been doing. It all came out by degrees ; 
 only as one of the boys said, "just as slowly as treacle 
 trickles." They had been to the top of the tower fishing ! 
 
 " Fishing ! " There was a general outcry here, which 
 not even the presence of the Doctor could restrain. 
 
 " Fishing for birds," Teddy explained. "Ashdell had 
 'got an idea,'" and as soon as he uttered these words, 
 which by this time had become so familiar to them all, 
 there was a roar of laughter, in which the Doctor could 
 not help joining. 
 
 " Well, he caught one gull, at any rate," said Stebbs, in 
 a very audible voice aside, as he looked at Teddy, who 
 stood with his hands in his pockets, turning over and over 
 a stray halfpenny or two he had found at the bottom of 
 them, and looking helplessly and miserably at the Doctor. 
 
 " Well, what was Ashdell's ' idea ' ? " said the latter. 
 
 " That we might catch birds in the air, just as we do 
 fishes in the water," said Teddy. " He got the notion, he 
 said, out of a book which Mr. Vane had lent him." 
 
 The Doctor looked at his second master for an ex- 
 planation. 
 
1 66 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 " Washington Irving's Alhambra ! " said the latter in 
 amazement. " To think of his turning the book to ac- 
 count in this manner ! " 
 
 "Well, go on, sir," said the Doctor, and on Teddy 
 went: 
 
 " Then the hook somehow got in a duck's mouth, that 
 was just going by, and in trying to pull it up, I suppose it 
 pulled Ashdell down, for I saw him go over head foremost, 
 with his heels kicking up in the air." 
 
 There was a great sensation here. This was very 
 dreadful. The Doctor turned pale ; then said, angrily, 
 " Why didn't you tell me of this before, sir. I suppose 
 the poor boy is lying bruised and senseless at the foot of 
 the tower ; and you have been such an insensate little dolt 
 as not to acquaint me with what had happened for fear of 
 bringing punishment on yourself. Go to your room, sir ! 
 you're not fit to associate with boys possessed of any 
 decent feeling. The rest of you may remain up for 
 another hour, as I have no doubt you are all anxious to 
 hear what has become of Ashdell." 
 
 " He isn't at the foot of the tower, sir," said Teddy, be- 
 ginning to cry. " I stooped over and looked, as soon as 
 I'd got the better of my fright, and I could see nothing of 
 him or the duck either ; so I came back to the school, 
 thinking he must have gone somewhere to get it cooked 
 It was a fine fat one ! " 
 
 " Pick himself up after such a fall ! " said the Doctor, in 
 amazement, " and walk away with a duck under his arm 
 
A SENSATION AT SCHOOL. 167 
 
 Why, the boy must have ninety lives instead of nine ! 
 However, I shall not rest satisfied with your version of 
 the matter; but will go myself at once, and see if I can 
 find Ashdell." Then he called Stebbs ; and the porter, as 
 before, went out with him. 
 
 ' This be nice work, sir, on winter nights, turning out 
 after that young gentleman," said Stebbs. " It's tew be 
 hoped, if yew're to keep yew're health, that he'll either 
 break his neck up there, or his friends will find a different 
 place for him — a 'sylum I should say, would be about the 
 best." 
 
 But the Doctor was too anxious to attend to Stebbs 
 As before, he searched through every corner of the Castle, 
 and then, not finding John, went through the town, and 
 made inquiries, but could hear nothing of him ; and so he 
 returned home very disheartened, angry with the boy who 
 had led him such a chase, and yet, more distressed on his 
 account than annoyed at his folly. 
 
 If Master Teddy had only told the whole truth, instead 
 of giving such a garbled version of the affair, the Doctor 
 would have arrived at some solution of the matter, which 
 might have set his mind so far at rest, that he would have 
 seen how it was possible for John to fall from the tower, 
 and yet escape without broken bones, by having alighted, 
 as he had done, on the summit of the piled-up mountain 
 of manure, which just then was stationary beneath the 
 Castle walls. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 JOHN HAS A LONG DRIVE, BUT NOT A PLEASANT ONE. 
 HE MAKES HIS APPEARANCE IN A NEW CHARACTER 
 AT "THE THREE MAGPIES." 
 
 " WEWVE got a soft bed, but a rare mucky one," said 
 -*• the wagoner, as John sank down in the very centre 
 of the wet straw, and lay for a moment breathless and 
 frightened by the fall. For a whole minute he was silent ; 
 then he tried to extricate himself from the soft wet mass 
 into which he had fallen, and in which, indeed, he was 
 afraid of being smothered, and said, " Just stop, will you 
 and help me out of this ? " 
 
 " Now, now," said the wagoner, giving his horses an- 
 other cut with the whip, "yew got in for yew're own divar- 
 sion, and yew'll stop in for mine. I don't hold with young 
 gentlefolks tryin' tew steal poor folks' ducks. I'm thinking 
 if yew'd got a schulemaister he'd ha' sumthin' tew say tew ye." 
 "Well, you ain't my schoolmaster," said John ; "and 1 
 don't see that it's any business of yours. I'll trouble you 
 to stop your horses at once, and help me get down. I 
 don't wan't to be riding on the top of this mess." 
 
JOHN HAS A LONG DRIVE. 169 
 
 " What for did yew get into it ? " asked the wagoner ; 
 " I didn't tell yew tew cum. But I'm thinkin' yew won't 
 find it quite so easy to get down. I've a mind to give yew 
 a bit of a ride." 
 
 John was furious, but it was all of no use ; the wagon- 
 er did not mind him in the least, and as to getting down 
 himself from the top of that moving mountain, it was out 
 of the question. 
 
 " I've a great mind to punch your head," he said at last 
 to the wagoner, by way of a conclusive argument. 
 
 " I wouldn't advise yew tew try," said the other : "just 
 keep a civil tongue in yewr head, or I'll lay yew down right 
 in the very middle o' the muck, with a rare lot ov' it, as 
 good as half-a-dozen blankets, on the top o' ye. Yew'll, 
 maybe, find it warm, but I don't think it'll be altogether 
 nice." 
 
 John thought it best to say nothing more after this — 
 the wagoner looked quite capable of executing his threat 
 — and on they went, mile after mile, till at last they stopped 
 at a small public-house, where the horses took a draught 
 out of the road-side trough, and their driver called for a 
 pint of ale. 
 
 The landlady brought it out herself; then seeing John, 
 she said, " There's some one up there chosen a queer place 
 for a ride." 
 
 " Aye, I've just got him out wi' me tew give him a les- 
 son," said the wagoner ; and he told her the manner in 
 which John had come there. 
 
170 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 " 'Twere a new way of stealing altogether, an so I'm 
 going tew steal him. O'ny for a bit tho' ; I wouldn't be 
 troubled with him for long. I think if he has tew trudge 
 back a dozen miles or so tew his schule, it'll maybe teach 
 him manners." 
 
 The landlady looked sympathizingly at John, but she 
 had poultry of her own, and thought people had no busi- 
 ness to find out new ways of stealing ducks ; still, she said, 
 " I shude say he didn't mean it. Young folks will be fool- 
 ish. 'Twere on'y a bit 0' skylarkin' like." 
 
 " Let him keep his larks away from other people's 
 ducks," said the wagoner ; and on he drove, and the land- 
 'ady went back to the inn. 
 
 John, while they had been resting, had seen his opportu- 
 nity, and now lost no time in seizing it. Over the road 
 there hung the sign of the inn, " The Three Magpies," 
 rudely painted on a board, which was supported by a stout 
 iron bracket. John felt sure that this iron arm would sup- 
 port his weight, and as the wagon passed directly under 
 it, he swung himself on to the sign, crawled along, and 
 crept into a small open window just above. When he had 
 alighted on the floor, he took breath — for it had been rather 
 a dangerous experiment — and looked around him. He was 
 in a small loft, or lumber room, with a little old furniture 
 in it, and some sacks piled in the corner. 
 
 " I'll get out of this," thought John, " as soon as that 
 fellow's out of sight. I suppose I shall easily find my way 
 to the stairs." 
 
JOHN HAS A LONG DRIVE. 171 
 
 He went to the door with the intention of looking out, 
 but found it was fastened on the other side. " Never mind," 
 he thought, " there's plenty of time ; some one will soon be 
 coming by, and I'll call out and let them know I'm here 
 I may as well make myself as comfortable as I can on those 
 sacks while I'm waiting." 
 
 So he did, and rather too comfortable. He was quite 
 tired out with angling on the top of the tower and then 
 riding on the wagon ; besides which his fall made him feel 
 rather faint and dizzy ; so he lay down, pulled one of the 
 sacks over him, and slept for some hours, at the end of 
 which time he awoke, and found himself rather chilly, ow- 
 ing to the cool evening air coming in, and was surprised to 
 find that the daylight had gone and the moon and stars 
 were peeping in at him through the little window. 
 
 " Here's a pretty go ! " cried John. " It's past hours, 
 and I shall catch it no end. What a bore it is to be bound 
 so by rules and hours ! I often wish I was a gypsy, or a 
 wild Indian, or a Hottentot — no ; I think they're rather a 
 nasty set. But I do think our civilized life's a great nui- 
 sance. I wish I'd come into the world before clocks were 
 made. I suppose I must make a row at this door, and ask 
 them to let me out. Is that somebody coming in ? No ! 
 They've gone further. Well, I can't stand this any longer. 
 Here goes to stir the house up ! I wonder what they'll say 
 when they find me here." 
 
 He kicked, and he hallooed, and at last succeeded in 
 making himself heard. The landlady came to the outside 
 
172 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 of the door, and so did the landlord, as, too, did several ol 
 the customers from the tap-room, but they were afraid to 
 go into the room, and gathered together, wondering how 
 anybody could have got into it when the door was always 
 kept locked. As to the window being left open, that was 
 an oversight of the landlord, who had gone into the loft 
 that morning, and, thinking it would be better for a little 
 ventilation, had opened the casement, and neglected to 
 close it again. 
 
 They gathered together, and whispered and wondered. 
 John was getting quite impatient ; the later he was, the 
 worse it would be for him when he returned to school ; so 
 he kicked once more at the door, and demanded indig- 
 nantly to be let out. 
 
 " Open it ! " cried the landlady to her husband ; " open 
 it, Tom ! " 
 
 " I'd like tew know first who it is," was the answer, " an 
 what for he cum there." 
 
 " I wouldn't let him out till I'd the constable to take 
 him," said another ; " he ain't a bin hidin' ther' for noa 
 good." 
 
 " Let's see who it is," cried the landlady, who was get- 
 ting curious ; " what are yew all so frightened for ; ain't 
 ther' plenty of ye to stop him ? " 
 
 " Maybe he's got fire-arms," said one of the customers. 
 
 " Maybe he'll know better than to use them if he has," 
 said the landlady. " I'll let him out, if no one else will ; " 
 and she turned the key in the lock, which her husband had 
 
JOHN HAS A LONG DRIVE. 173 
 
 put there, and been afraid to do more ; and then said— 
 " Now come out, whoever yew are, and let's see what like 
 yew are." 
 
 Out John came, and at the very sight of him, there was 
 a rush and a shriek and a general flight down the steep, 
 narrow staircase, every one hastening to be first ; the land- 
 lady herself screaming louder, and running faster, thar 
 anybody. John was very much puzzled at this. 
 
 " What a set of ninnies they are," he said, " to be fright- 
 ened of me." But as there was no time to be lost, he 
 walked down the stairs and out of the open door, resolved 
 to make the best of his way back to school. 
 
 He heard another shriek, in which every one seemed to 
 be joining, as he passed the tap-room, and, looking in, saw 
 the landlady leaning back in an arm-chair and trying her 
 very best to faint, or look as if she did, while her husband 
 and the different customers were gathered round her in va- 
 rious attitudes of surprise and alarm. 
 
 " Precious set of muffs ! " said John ; " but I've no time 
 to waste upon them. I wonder what on earth all the row's 
 about." 
 
 If John had only taken a little more notice of the sacks 
 on which he had flung himself, he might have arrived at a 
 pretty fair guess at the cause of the alarm into which he 
 had thrown the frequenters of " The Three Magpies." Its 
 landlord was part owner of a small windmill, and it was here 
 that the empty sacks were deposited. One or two of them 
 had not been emptied quite so thoroughly as they should 
 
174 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 have been, and the contents had lodged on John's clothes, 
 but especially on his face, and the moonlight from a small 
 window on the staircase falling on the latter as he opened 
 the door, had given it a strange and weird appearance, 
 which, in conjunction with the singularity of any one being 
 in the loft at all, had thoroughly frightened the country 
 folk — a fright which they were a long time in getting over ; 
 and to this day they are given to talk of the ghost of " The 
 Three Magpies." 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 JOHN MAKES ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE GYPSIES, AND IS 
 CHARMED WITH THEIR RECEPTION OF HIM. 
 
 JOHN walked on by the light of the moon, thinking, not 
 too hopefully, of the reception he should meet with when 
 he got back to school. " The Doctor will be down upon 
 me, and I shall have a thousand lines to write out, besides 
 being kept in for the next fortnight. What a nuisance 
 school is ! I don't mind the lessons, if I could just be al- 
 lowed to do them at my own time and in my own way, but 
 to be wound up like a clock, and set going like a machine, 
 seems to me quite beneath the dignity of any rational and 
 intelligent being. Hallo ! I do believe I've come wrong. I 
 never was in this part of the world before." 
 
 He found himself in a field from which the crop had 
 some time since been carted, and which now looked brown 
 and bare, owing to the long dry summer. A broad path, 
 wide enough for a cart, ran on one side of it, and at the lower 
 side of the field there was the remains of a common which 
 had not yet been reclaimed and made into meadow-land 
 
176 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 Perhaps this was due to the presence of a gravel pit, which 
 was not yet exhausted, and which, with its brown sides slop- 
 ing down into a wide hollow, overhung here and there by 
 several misshapen trees, looked picturesque enough in the 
 moonlight. But the scene was made more picturesque still 
 in John's eyes by the presence of a small party of gypsies 
 who had gathered round a fire. Near them were two or 
 three tents — that is to say, blankets supported by poles — 
 and these looked white enough in the moonlight ; while 
 some brown-skinned, black-eyed children, who peeped 
 from underneath or rolled under the furze bushes, struck 
 him as the merriest urchins he had ever seen, and the smell 
 of the gypsy stew, when one of the women lifted off the lid 
 and stirred the saucepan, was the most appetizing he had 
 ever inhaled. 
 
 John quite forgot, as he drank it in with delight, that 
 it was nearly eight hours since he had dined, and that he 
 had had no tea, but set it all down to the credit of the 
 gypsies' cookery. 
 
 "That's the life for me," he said, as he gave another sniff; 
 " free and easy, no rules ; no regularity, nothing to worry 
 yourself about ; no fuss, no stuck-up nonsense, no show, no 
 sham; shouldn't I like it? I've got an idea! I was born 
 to be a gypsy ; it's just the sort of life for me ; and they're 
 such jolly fellows, by all I've heard. I suppose they do 
 steal from the farmers now and then ; but, after all, per- 
 haps that may be only a spiteful story the farmers make up 
 Who's to know it's true. I wonder now if these have got 
 
THE GYPSIES. 1 77 
 
 their king with them, or if they could tell me anything about 
 him. I should like to see a real gypsy-king. Dear me, if 
 I were to take to that life, perhaps they'd make me king, as 
 being better educated and better informed. That's just 
 what I should like ; I'd have no thieving then, and if we 
 found England didn't suit us, we'd go to Canada or Mex- 
 ico, anywhere where there was plenty of corn and plenty 
 of game. I don't know, though, about my mother ; I'm 
 afraid she wouldn't like the life, and I shouldn't like to 
 leave her for more than a year or two. Well, one can see 
 a great deal of the world in a year or two. I might found 
 a new colony, start a new empire, as Romulus did, in that 
 time, and then come back and settle down on my laurels. 
 I should have done something to astonish those fellows at 
 the school by that time, something that would take the 
 shine out of them, I'm thinking, and show them, after all, 
 I've got a little more sense than they give me credit 
 for." .. 
 
 By this time he was near the gypsies, and one of the 
 women came up and offered to tell him his fortune. John 
 declined, but intimated that he would much rather pay a 
 shilling for a share of their supper. He was not only hun- 
 gry, but tired, having come much further out of his way 
 than he had imagined. He thought if he had something to 
 eat he should be all right. The gypsies made room for him, 
 but as he was about to seat himself near their fire his foot 
 slipped, and he nearly fell to the ground. 
 
 "I'm afraid I've sprained my ankle," he said, with a 
 
178 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 .ittle alarm. " Here's a precious go ! How shall I ever get 
 on to-night ? " 
 
 " Had you much further to go, dearey ? " asked one of 
 the gypsies, a wrinkled old woman, with a crafty look in her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Yes, that I had, and I'm afraid I sha'n't be able to stir 
 another step," he said. " If I haven't sprained my ankle, 
 I've given it a twist." 
 
 " Let me look at the foot, dearey ? " said the old wo- 
 man, and she drew off John's boot and sock and examined 
 the injured foot. " Tisn't a sprain, dearey, only a twist, as 
 you say, but you'll not be able to go any further to-night 
 Where was it you wanted to go ? " 
 
 " Oh, a long way from here ! " replied John. He did 
 not feel disposed to tell them he was going back to school ; 
 if they thought he was a schoolboy, he imagined they would 
 not treat him with so much deference as they were doing 
 now. The gypsies noticed this reserve, and drew their own 
 conclusions from it. They imagined that instead of has- 
 tening back to school he was hurrying from it. 
 
 " I suppose one couldn't hire a chaise or anything of 
 that sort ? " asked John. " Precious hole that'll make in 
 what little tin I've got left, if I get it," was his thought ; 
 " but I suppose it's the best thing to be done. If the Doc- 
 tor sees me driving back to the school, he'll know at least 
 that I was in earnest about getting there." 
 
 " The poor gypsies have neither horses nor carriages," 
 said the old woman, " and a grand young gentleman like 
 
THE GYPSIES. 179 
 
 you" — she had caught sight of Master John's watch-chain , 
 and the flour on his clothes, though it puzzled her, did not 
 conceal from her sharp eyes that they were well made — 
 "would not like to ride in one of their carts with only a 
 donkey to draw it. Besides, that would jolt and hurt the 
 poor foot so sadly." 
 
 " Well, I shouldn't like to go up to the school in a don- 
 key-cart," thought John ; " Stebbs would tell, and I never 
 should hear the last of it from those fellows then. But what 
 am I to do ? " he said aloud, looking round the field and 
 the common, as if in search of some hotel where he might 
 rest for the night. 
 
 "What the poor gypsies can do, they will do, dearey, 
 said the old woman. " Stay here with us, sleep in one of 
 our tents, and to-morrow the foot may be well, and you 
 may go on with your journey." 
 
 " Well, I do call that kind," thought John. " What a 
 fancy they've taken to me, to be sure ! So odd, too, just 
 as I was thinking how I should like to be one of them. 
 I don't see what else I can do, and if I do stop out all 
 night, the Doctor can't expect me to hop all the way to 
 school on one leg ; and I don't know how else I should 
 get there, for I can't put this other one to the ground.' 
 Then he said aloud, " I should like it uncommonly, if 
 I'm not in your way. Have you got room for me here 
 in one of your tents ? " 
 
 " Plenty and to spare," said the old dame. " Nancie, 
 Lizzie ! " and she called two children from under a 
 
180 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 blanket ; "go and sleep with your sister. Joey, keep still, 
 my boy, and you shall share my bed." 
 
 " Well, if they were wild Arabs they couldn't do the 
 thing better," thought John. " This is what they call the 
 hospitality of the desert. I don't mind my hurt foot a bit. 
 I think it's a regular piece of luck, giving it that twist. 
 They'd never have asked me to spend the night with them 
 else. Sha'n't I have something to tell those fellows when 
 I get back ! I don't believe there's one of them the 
 gypsies would have treated in this style." 
 
 Supper was turned out in a great wooden tub, and the 
 gypsies drew round to partake of it. The plates and mugs 
 were of pewter, and the predominant flavor of the dish was 
 of onions. There was a salt-dish, but no spoon, and the 
 knives and forks were not cleaned so well as they might 
 have been. John was very squeamish in such matters, and 
 found his supper did not go down with quite the relish he 
 had anticipated. One of the children came up to him, and 
 John, who, like most good-natured boys, was very fond of 
 little ones, was disposed to be friendly with it, till he saw 
 that its nose was sadly in want of a handkerchief, and the 
 clear moonlight showed that its face had not been 
 visited with soap and water for a very considerable 
 period. 
 
 *' Pity they ain't cleaner," thought John. " If ever I 
 have any real influence over them, I'll try and bring about 
 a change in that matter ; but it's only a trifle after all. 
 They're such good-hearted, friendly, hospitable creatures, 
 
THE GYPSIES. l8i 
 
 that I ought to be ashamed of myself for thinking so much 
 of these little failings." 
 
 He got into talk with them over his supper, and began 
 " sounding them," as he expressed it to himself, about 
 their royal family, and the position of the gypsies in 
 general. They were rather reserved in their communi- 
 cations ; one of the men, a tall, sturdy looking fellow, 
 especially so. John took a fancy to this man, on account 
 of his looks, and hearing him complain a little of the 
 scarcity of common land in England, and the difficulty the 
 gypsies had in finding any place where they could pitch 
 their tents undisturbed, began talking to him about 
 Canada and America. 
 
 "There would be plenty of room for you there," he 
 said ; " and the bisons and elks to shoot undisturbed. 
 What a life that would be, to be sure ! I wonder any of 
 you gypsies stop in this pent-up little place, when there are 
 thousands of miles of country for you to roam over as 
 freely as you please." Then he gave them a glowing 
 description of Canada and its lakes, the backwoods of 
 North America, and the pampas and prairies of the 
 southern part of the continent ; hoping to inspire them 
 with a desire to visit these new countries, where they 
 might wander freely and untrammelled, and in imagination 
 saw himself already the sovereign of the gypsies, leading 
 them to peaceful conquest over untrodden plains and 
 forests, which as yet had been known only to the elk or the 
 bison. 
 
Ib2 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 It was quite grand; it ought to have warmed up the 
 gypsy blood to a furious longing to follow where he was 
 so willing to lead ; but it didn't ; the old woman only shook 
 her head, and said, " There be no neighbors there, dearey, 
 and we can't get on without them;" and the man, who 
 looked strong enough for a modern Hercules, and on 
 whom John had relied as his coadjutor, muttered some 
 thing about it being " too hard work by half." 
 
 John felt disappointed, and when the old woman asked 
 him if he would like to go to bed, he assented, feeling not 
 merely tired out with his own eloquence, but very much 
 disappointed at the little effect it had produced. " I hope," 
 he thought as he followed her, " that when she talks of 
 not getting on without her neighbors, she doesn't mean 
 that she helps herself at their expense ; it sounded like it." 
 
 He didn't find the little straw-stuffed mattrass and 
 bolster on which he slept, quite so comfortable as his bed 
 at the school, and he was afraid of feeling chilly if he 
 undressed, so he lay down in his clothes ; and there was a 
 close stuffy smell about the blanket he pulled over him that 
 was not pleasant ; sheets there were none, and, altogether, 
 his experience of uncivilized life as it is to be met with in 
 England, was not a very agreeable one. Still he made the 
 best of it, thinking "it was uncommonly kind of them to 
 take me in. They wouldn't have done that now at a farm- 
 house, or any of those cottages I've passed. They're a 
 regular good sort, these gypsies, although perhaps there's 
 one or two things they're open to improvement in." 
 
THE GYPSIES. 183 
 
 He slept soundly, and dreamed that he was in South 
 America, and that a number of Indians, clothed in tiger 
 skins, and with feathers on their heads, were dancing round 
 him ; that all the gypsies from England had come over, and 
 were waiting on either side of him as his courtiers, and the 
 old woman, who had entertained him that evening, was sit- 
 ting by his side as his queen. From this dream he was 
 awoke by a voice which was strangely familiar, and, look- 
 ing up, he saw the moon and the stars shining right down 
 upon him, as his blanket had been pulled away from over 
 his head, and Mr. Vane was standing by, speaking to him. 
 
 " Get up, Ashdell, and come back to school," he said, 
 which was rather a prosaic interruption to John's poetical 
 dreams. 
 
 He sat up and rubbed his eyes. " How ever did you 
 find me, sir ? " 
 
 " This good man," said Mr. Vane, pointing to the tall 
 gypsy, " imagined that you had run away from school — I 
 hope not correctly, Ashdell — and, guessing that you came 
 from Bessinghan, walked over, and informed the Doctor of 
 your whereabouts. Was he right in his inference ? " 
 asked Mr. Vane, sternly; "did you really mean to crown 
 all your follies by such an uncalled-for action as this ? " 
 
 " Not a bit of it, sir, " said John, shortly, and Mr. Vane 
 felt sure that he was speaking the truth. " I'd have come 
 on at once, only I hurt my foot — as he might have told 
 you, the mean skunk! if he'd had any consideration in 
 him." 
 
1 84 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 "He did tell us that," said Mr. Vane, "and Mrs. Raven 
 has kindly lent me her pony and chaise, in which to carry 
 you back. But if you did not intend to run away, how came 
 you to be so far out of your way?" 
 
 John told the whole story, which afforded Mr. Vane 
 more amusement than he chose to display. He made no 
 remarks, however, but assisted John into the chaise, and 
 when they were settled in it, John saw him slip something 
 into the hand of the tall gypsy. 
 
 "Treacherous scoundrel!" said John to himself; "after 
 my placing the trust in him I did, to go and betray me like 
 this ! Now I shall have the credit of having run away, 
 without having had the fun of it. What a nice lot of chaff 
 I shall have to stand to-morrow ! " 
 
 But John was mistaken there. When the morrow 
 came, he was in no state for " chaff," or anything of a 
 similar nature, being confined to his bed with a bad head- 
 ache and a violent cold, the consequence of his first at- 
 tempt at uncivilized life. He was a long time getting 
 well ; so long, that his mother came to see him, and as 
 she wished to take him home, Dr. Raven was quite willing 
 that she should do so, and at the same time informed her 
 that, though he liked John, whom he really considered a 
 very clever boy indeed, he would rather not have the 
 charge of him for the future. 
 
 " He would be better at a private tutor's, my dear 
 madam," he said ; " it is utterly impossible for any master 
 to look after him, who has the charge of above a hundred 
 
THE GYPSIES. 1 85 
 
 boys besides. I shall always be pleased to see Ashdell, 
 always glad to hear of his welfare, but I can't, in justice 
 to my other pupils, accept the continued responsibilit) 
 of his education." 
 
 So John went home, and was ailing and poorly for a 
 great part of the summer. He was very much vexed at 
 parting with the Doctor, and there were some of the boys 
 whom he was really sorry to leave, but after a while his 
 spirits revived, and his " ideas " began to flow again with 
 their former vivacity. Bob came to spend some time in 
 Studley, and, in conversation with him and his old school- 
 fellows, John began to feel himself again, and to speak of 
 the boys at Bessingham Grammar-School with the con- 
 tempt he was in the habit of evincing for all who presumed 
 to differ from him. It was not very long before he got 
 into mischief again, and what this was I must tell you in 
 my next chapter. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 john's new theory about animals. how he met 
 with a monkey that seemed untamable. 
 
 JOHN seemed to think that after all there was a great 
 deal more to be made out of the animal world than 
 people generally imagined, but his " ideas " now took 
 another shape, and this new fancy, instead of angling for 
 birds or fattening calves, was training animals generally, 
 or, as he called it himself, " elevating and humanizing the 
 brute creation." 
 
 " I've an ' idea,' " he told Ted and Bob one day, " that 
 a great deal might be done that way by any one who knows 
 how to go to work. But no one does, there's the mischief 
 of it. We treat the brutes just as if they were brutes 
 and nothing more. Give them a bad name, and stick to 
 it. Once in a way, people seem to find out the poor things 
 are capable of something better, but they don't persevere, 
 or if they do, they don't persevere in the right way. Some 
 day I'll see what / can do in that way, but I hardly know 
 which animal to select for the experiment. 
 
 " I wouldn't try a calf this time," said Ted. 
 
JOHN'S NEW THEORY. 187 
 
 " Drop that, please, Harley," replied John, rather test- 
 ily. " It wasn't a fair trial, thanks to that precious Martha ! 
 What business had she to go interfering with the creature ? 
 But this is a question of far more importance than a mere 
 matter of food ; it's the mental and intellectual faculties of 
 animals to which I intend to devote my attention now ; 
 but the question is, what kind of creature shall I begin 
 with?" 
 
 " There was a deal of talk about the industrious fleas 
 once," said Bob ; " can't you catch one, and begin with 
 that, John ? " 
 
 " There's a difficulty about the feeding," observed his 
 cousin. 
 
 "Just as there was about the calfs," remarked Ted in 
 a low voice, which, however, John affected not to hear, and 
 continued — 
 
 " Now, if you wouldn't mind helping in that, Bob—" 
 
 But Bob declined in so very decided a manner to have 
 anything to do with the feeding of a flea, that John, who 
 had no wish to undertake anything of the kind himself, 
 was obliged to think of another animal as the object of 
 his new process of development. 
 
 " I should like," he said, " to begin with one of the 
 larger animals." 
 
 " A cow, this time," suggested Ted ; " calves are diffi- 
 cult things to rear, by all I've heard of them." 
 
 " I'll punch your head, Harley, if I've any more of that 
 'chaff!'" said John, looking at Ted as if he fully meant 
 
1 88 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 what he said, and as Ted, though by no means a coward, 
 had no wish to quarrel with John, he prudently abstained 
 from any further allusions to such a very tender subject. 
 
 A few days afterwards Ted had a whole holiday, and 
 Bob, who had not yet returned home, agreed to go up with 
 him to town in order to visit the Zoological Gardens, to 
 which place he had never yet been. Ted, who had lived in 
 London for the first twelve years of his life, had been 
 there several times, but he was very willing to go again 
 and show Bob not only " the lions," but every other nota- 
 bility in the place. John heard of the intended expedi- 
 tion, and wanted to go too, and his grandmother, having 
 now quite recovered, told him if his mother would let him 
 take a day from school, she would pay for his railway-fare 
 and admission to the Gardens. Of course John got a hol- 
 iday from his mother, who considered, as did Mrs. Thorne, 
 that as he had been so good a boy during the illness of the 
 latter, he deserved some reward. Martha had her own 
 opinion on the subject of John's goodness, which she did 
 not think it at all necessary to keep to herself. " It was 
 just encouraging him," she said, " in his idle nonsense ; 
 there was no knowing what he would be up to next. A 
 nice time she had had of it, turning dry-nurse to a calf! and 
 the money Farmer Prowse had given for it had nothing 
 like paid for the milk and oatmeal it had taken to keep the 
 creature ; and now, after all this waste, Master John was to 
 go up to London, just, as she supposed, to get some more 
 nonsense in his head!" 
 
JOHN'S NEW THEORY. 1 89 
 
 It really seemed like it. John was full of his new 
 " ideas," when he went to the Gardens. If Ted and Bob 
 had not held him back by main force, he would have got 
 under the iron barrier before the larger animals, and en- 
 deavored to make the personal acquaintance of a tiger or a 
 lioness. 
 
 He was furious at the way they were treated. " Shut 
 up, poor wretches ! in iron cages, just as if they'd done any- 
 thing they deserved to be punished for. Was that the way 
 to make them look upon men as their friends? Why 
 couldn't they be treated with some degree of confi- 
 dence, and have a little liberty given them, instead of be- 
 ing shut up like so many murderers ? " 
 
 " Just to keep them from being murderers, I suppose," 
 said Ted. " It's all very fine, young fellow, but if you were 
 to have your way with these fellows, they'd very soon make 
 mincemeat of us." 
 
 " That's just your old-world notions, Ted. People nev- 
 er seem to think you can do anything with dumb animals 
 but by force. I'd trust them, I would ; let them see that 
 you think well of them, and see if they don't deserve it be- 
 fore long." 
 
 "Well, they might," said Ted ; I don't know, but I should 
 be sorry to trust myself with that tiger over there. Let's 
 come and look at the monkeys ; they're pleasanter animals 
 to deal with than these fellows here." 
 
 Ted was really very glad to get John away from the vi- 
 cinity of the lions and tigers, as he was afraid that, in spite 
 
190 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 of Bob and himself, and even of a keeper who was looking 
 sharply after Master John, he would go too near the dan- 
 gerous creatures in his anxiety to prove the correctness 
 of his favorite theory. Let the monkeys be as mischiev- 
 ous as they might, at any rate he could not get into a very 
 serious scrape with them. 
 
 John had a deal to say about the monkeys. Their in- 
 telligence and vivacity pleased him greatly. So much might 
 be made out of them, he said, if people only knew how to 
 do it. He fed them with nuts, tried to teach them to shake 
 hands, and stopped looking at them till Ted and Bob were 
 quite tired of being there. There was one rather surly 
 monkey on whom he bestowed a great deal of attention, 
 and at last his assiduities seemed to have a little effect upon 
 the rather acid nature of this unpromising-looking indi- 
 vidual. He condescended to take a nut from John's hand, 
 and even allowed him at last to rub his head, looking al- 
 most pleased with the delicate attention. John pointed 
 this out in triumph to his friends. 
 
 " Now you see I've nearly conquered him, and it's all 
 by kindness ! He knows I trust him, and he's proud of 
 being trusted ; if I were to come here once or twice more, 
 he'd get quite fond of me, wouldn't you, poor fellow ? I do 
 believe even now he'd let me do almost anything I like 
 with him ; just see — " 
 
 He stooped down quite close to the cage, and attempt- 
 ed to take hold of the monkey's tail ; but this was more 
 than Master John's new protege would submit to. He 
 
JOHN'S NEW THEORY. 191 
 
 snarled, showed his teeth, and in a second had pulled 
 John's cap off, while with the other claw he seized his hair, 
 as if he would have liked to pull that off too. John roared 
 with all his might, as I think any boy would who was in 
 such a predicament, but the monkey grinned and showed 
 his teeth more than ever. He seemed to think it capital 
 fun, and so, I am sorry to say, did Ted, who, although he 
 ran up to his friend at once, and did his very best to extri- 
 cate him from the monkey's claws, was laughing all the 
 time in what John could not help considering a very un- 
 feeling manner. As to Bob, he stood quite panic-struck 
 for a time ; then he ran up too, but Ted by this time had 
 got John away from the monkey, who rushed back to the 
 topmost perch of his cage and sat there, chattering and 
 grinning more than ever, and showing the cap in triumph, 
 as well as a tuft of hair he had pulled out of John's 
 head. 
 
 It was quite exasperating to see the way in which he 
 behaved. He nodded towards the boys as if to show his 
 delight at his prizes, then, after examining the hair, hold- 
 ing it to his nose and mouth and eyes, as if to ascertain its 
 texture and fineness, he flung it on the ground, and began 
 deliberately pulling the cap to pieces, and flinging the 
 fragments where he had done the hair. 
 
 " Look at him, the villain !" cried John. " And it's my 
 very best, too. Oh, if I could only get hold of you, you 
 rascal, wouldn't I teach you to play such tricks as this ! " 
 
 "Now, don't, Ashdell," said Ted; " try kindness ; sup 
 
192 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 pose you reason a little with him. Don't you think he'll 
 understand you ? " 
 
 " Understand ? oh, he understands well enough, the 
 villain ! He knows it's mischief, and that's why he delight3 
 in it." 
 
 A keeper came up, and John pointed out the monkey 
 to him, but it was impossible, as the keeper said, for him 
 to catch the animal in a place where it had so much room 
 to go leaping about, and if he did catch him, where would 
 be the use, the cap was quite spoiled by this time ; the 
 best thing the young gentleman could do, would be to go 
 home at once for another, and the next time he came to 
 the Zoological Gardens, keep further away from the mon- 
 keys. 
 
 John was not disposed to follow this advice, neither did 
 his friends at all wish that he should do so ; they had not 
 seen half there was to be seen, so they left the monkeys 
 and strolled about the gardens, John submitting to the in- 
 convenience of having no cap, with tolerable composure. 
 He did not make any further experiments on the animals ; 
 he said it was no use there, the creatures were so ill-trained 
 and so accustomed to be treated as enemies, that they 
 could not understand any one's wishing to be friends with 
 them. Let him only have a fair chance — get an animal 
 away from either cage or keeper, and all to himself, and 
 he would show people what could be done with it. As it 
 was, he should content himself on his visit to the Zoolog- 
 ical, with only acquiring some knowledge of the " out- 
 
JOHN'S NEW THEORY. 193 
 
 ward forms and peculiarities of the creatures collected 
 there." 
 
 He looked very dignified as he said this, and very in- 
 dignant, and as if he had a right to be so, with the gover 
 nors of the Zoological Society, and every person in their 
 employment, for not ordering things better. 
 
 After a time, as he found himself rather cold, he tied 
 his pocket-handkerchief round his head, which amused 
 people a little, especially when they heard him gravely 
 laying down the law as to the proper treatment of every 
 animal he came near. Ted said he put him in mind of 
 one of the judges with his wig on — indeed, I don't know 
 whether he did not compare him to a late Lord Chancelloi 
 he had once seen — and suggested that he should mount 
 on one of the garden seats and deliver a speech on the 
 wrongs and rights of animals. But John did not receive 
 this suggestion very pleasantly. Ted might laugh as 
 much as he pleased at chancellors and judges, but John 
 evidently thought it a very different matter laughing at 
 him. 
 
 They left the Gardens in good time, as they were anx- 
 ious to catch the 5:10 train, that being one which an omni 
 bus always met at the Shedley station, and took people 
 from it to the village, which was more than two miles 
 distant. They were all to ride home, and as by this time 
 they were very tired, they thought this a very sensible 
 arrangement. 
 
 The day had been fine, and, for the season, warm — rt 
 13 
 
194 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 was now the middle of April — but a heavy rain came on 
 soon after they were in the omnibus, which made the three 
 boys congratulate themselves upon having inside places. 
 The omnibus only held ten, and there were seven passen- 
 gers besides themselves, all people who had been to busi- 
 ness in town that day, and were returning home for the 
 evening. 
 
 One of these passengers was well known to the boys, 
 who had all a profound dislike for him ; so indeed had 
 most people in Shedley. It is curious what a nack some 
 people have of making themselves obnoxious to every one 
 with whom they come in contact, and in this not very de- 
 sirable talent, Mr. Gruph particularly excelled. He was a 
 short, thin man, with an unpleasantly red face, which made 
 him look as if he was always in a passion, as indeed was 
 apt to be the case upon the least provocation, and he had 
 a surly, snappish manner of speaking, which was not cal- 
 culated to impress any one in his favor. He had grumbled 
 when the three boys came in, muttering something, evi- 
 dently meant for them to hear, about a parcel of young 
 monkeys being let loose without any one to look after 
 them ; and this little allusion of course was not very grati- 
 fying to the young gentlemen for whom it was meant. 
 
 " I wish he had your young monkeys to deal with," said 
 Ted, not too softly to John ; " though I should say that 
 must have been an old one, to judge by its growling." 
 
 Mr. Gruph looked and felt uncomfortable. Did the 
 boy mean him when he talked of an old monkey ? And 
 
JOHN'S NEW THEORY. 195 
 
 growling ; well, if he did growl, what business had boys 
 like those to take any notice of it ? 
 
 Presently John, who never could keep silence long to- 
 gether, began to talk over the events of the day, and Ted 
 joined in, greatly to the annoyance of Mr. Gruph, who, if 
 he did not exactly think the world was made for him, 
 always imagined that special portion of it was wherein 
 he happened to be. Every one else was still ; there was 
 two old ladies who kept a school, a young one who gave 
 music lessons, her little sister, and the chemist and linen- 
 draper of the village ; and in the eyes of all these people 
 Mr. Gruph, though a very disagreeable, was a rather im- 
 portant personage, whom they would not care to annoy by 
 talking, if he chose to keep silence. 
 
 But the boys stood in no such awe of Mr. Gruph, and 
 they chatted away as fearlessly and merrily as though he 
 had not been there, greatly to his annoyance. But they 
 had not gone very far when something occurred which 
 irritated him still more than even their talk and laughter. 
 
 The omnibus was going slowly up a rather steep hill, 
 when a female voice was heard from the wayside, and Mr. 
 Gruph, looking out, saw through the rain a woman, with a 
 baby in her arms, standing by the wayside. The omnibus 
 lamps shone full on her as she came near, and the boys, 
 who were looking out too, saw that she was thinly dressed, 
 very wet already, carrying a parcel as well as her baby, and 
 with no umbrella. 
 
 The omnibus driver stopped, with the intention of al« 
 
196 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 lowing the woman to enter the vehicle, but Mr. Gruph, 
 who hated babies, also disliked everything that bore the 
 semblance of poverty, and this woman must be poor, or 
 she would never be out alone on such a night with hei 
 baby. 
 
 " Smith ! we can't have that woman in here ! She's not 
 a dry thread about her ! " he called out. 
 
 " It's pouring with rain, sir," said Smith, stooping down 
 from his box to the window, at which Mr. Gruph sat. 
 
 " Of course it is, and we can't have her to make us all 
 wet through — giving every one of us our death of cold." 
 
 " She's got a baby, sir," pleaded Smith, who was a good- 
 natured man, and had babies of his own. 
 
 " I know she has," said Mr. Gruph ; " and do you sup- 
 pose, Smith, your regular passengers are going to be an- 
 noyed by babies squalling in the omnibus ? — besides, it's 
 full, there's not a seat to spare." 
 
 " I'll take my little sister on my lap," said the young 
 music-teacher. 
 
 " I'll ride outside," said John and Ted simultaneously. 
 
 " And I'll keep the baby quiet," said Bob ; " babies are 
 always good with me." 
 
 "There's no room outside, young gentlemen," said 
 Smith ; " but if you could manage to accommodate this 
 good lady, as it is such a night — " 
 
 " I'll not have the omnibus overloaded ! I'll inform 
 against you, Smith, if you do ! " growled Mr. Gruph, in a 
 deeper tone than ever. " We're full ! You're licensed to 
 
JOHN'S NEW THEORY. 197 
 
 carry ten inside, and you're punishable by law if you take 
 any more. 
 
 The rain came pelting in at the window which Mr. 
 Gruph had opened to talk to Smith, and he pulled it up 
 sharply, telling Bob, who sat next to the door, to close it. 
 The poor woman bent over her baby as if to shield it from 
 the rain, and John — whose heart was right enough, whatever 
 might be said of his head — jumped out, saying, " Take my 
 place, ma'am, and almost before the woman was aware, 
 Ted and Bob had pushed her, baby, parcel, and all, into 
 John's vacant seat. The omnibus went on, and John ran 
 by its side. Mr. Gruph got out at his own gate, after hav- 
 ing grumbled all the way at the " damp stranger," who had 
 been allowed to get in, to the discomfort of a regular pas- 
 senger like himself. Then the omnibus went on, but 
 stopped at " The Three Roads," a small public-house, 
 where the woman and baby got out, and went up to a man 
 who was standing under the doorway, as if expecting them. 
 
 Something dropped out of the woman's parcel as she 
 went towards the inn, and John, who caught a glimpse of 
 it, picked it up and ran after her with it. She was just in- 
 side the open doorway now, and her husband, as the man 
 appeared to be, had taken the baby, and was observing 
 how wet it was. 
 
 " Well it may be, poor dear !" replied its mother ; " we 
 should have been drowned outright, if it hadn't been for a 
 young gentleman — bless his heart ! — who got out and made 
 me take his place. Why, if this isn't him. I am so glad, 
 
tgS THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 sir, to have the chance of thanking you for your kindness. 
 It would have killed my baby outright to have been out in 
 the rain all this time." 
 
 John gave her the article she had dropped from her 
 parcel, and she thanked him again, and went into the inn, 
 while John ran homewards, feeling none the worse for his 
 wetting, but wishing with all his heart that some bright 
 " idea " would occur to him, whereby he might punish Mr. 
 Gruph for the inhumanity he had shown that night. 
 
 '* Talk of taming the brutes, I wish I could tame him— 
 but it wouldn't be with kindness ! " 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HOW JOHN TRIED TO CATCH A WEASEL ASLEEP, AND MAR- 
 THA CAUGHT HIM. AN UNPLEASANT BEDFELLOW. 
 
 A FORTNIGHT passed on, during which John did his 
 "*■*- best to carry out his new " idea " as to the proper treat- 
 ment of animals, — a fortnight in which Martha's life was a 
 misery to her, and she went about in daily fear of having 
 some strange inmate brought into her kitchen, and espe- 
 cially recommended to her good graces. Of course such 
 creatures as boys generally make pets of, would not have 
 sufficed for John ; rabbits, dogs, and pigeons, he disdained 
 as tame, commonplace creatures, whose mental faculties, 
 such as they were, had been developed to the utmost. But 
 he brought in a weasel, with the intention, as he said, of 
 trying if there was any truth in the proverb, " Catch a wea- 
 sel asleep," and sat up all night watching the creature, 
 with a view to elucidate that fact in Natural History. But 
 whether the weasel went to sleep or not, John is to this 
 day in ignorance, as Martha found him the next morning 
 in a very peaceful slumber himself, with the weasel looking 
 as lively as ever, and a candle nearly burned down to the 
 
200 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 socket, with a wick two inches long. She put out the can- 
 dle — and put out the weasel, too ! carrying the cage out- 
 side and opening the door, when the creature very soon 
 made its escape. Then she returned to John, woke him 
 up with a good scolding, and told him that for the future 
 she would come every night and see that he was in his 
 bed, before she went to her own. Then he brought home 
 a hedgehog, which he concealed from Martha, for, as he 
 told Bob, " there was no beating any sense into her. She 
 would be ten times more difficult to make anything out of, 
 than any animal that ever came out of Noah's Ark ; and 
 the worst of it was, if they were dumb she wasn't, so, just 
 for peace and quietness sake, he'd keep this creature in his 
 own room, and say nothing about it to her." 
 
 The hedgehog got on pretty well for a day or two ; 
 John made it a little nest at the bottom of a cupboard 
 where he kept his clothes, and fed it with bread and milk. 
 But one night it walked out of the cupboard, as John had 
 left the door open, and strayed into Martha's bedroom. 
 One of the legs of her bedstead had broken that morning, 
 and as the village carpenter had not been able to come 
 and mend it, Martha had made her bed on the ground. 
 She was in a sweet sleep, when the hedgehog, who thought 
 perhaps that it would be warmer in bed with her than on 
 the cold ground, crept softly in, and nestled up to her in 
 the most confiding manner possible. 
 
 Martha twisted in her bed uneasily ; something was 
 pricking her, and, without waking, she turned on the other 
 
CATCHING A WEASEL ASLEEP. 201 
 
 side. The hedgehog, which had a great notion of warmth, 
 crept up to her, and again she was conscious of an unpleasant 
 sensation, as if a dozen pins were running into her at once, 
 but this time in her back. She woke now, and was certain 
 that the pin pricks were not imaginary, she felt them too 
 palpably for that. Martha was thoroughly frightened — she 
 was not a superstitious woman, but still, what could it be 
 that was pricking her so sharply ? She was certain nothing 
 had been in the room when she entered it, and she was 
 positive that she had closed the door before she came to 
 bed. So she had, but the hedgehog was even then in 
 her room, hiding behind a chair on which Martha had 
 thrown a dress, which completely concealed it. 
 
 " There can't be pins," said Martha, " when I made the 
 bed myself, and oh ! good gracious ! what else can there 
 be ? It's something alive, I'n sure of that ! I can feel it 
 moving as well as pricking ! It'll bite next ! that is, if it's 
 anything belonging to this world, but perhaps it isn't, 
 maybe it's come for a warning. I've heard tell of such 
 things, but oh dear ! I'd sooner have seen a shroud in the 
 candle, or heard the death-watch a dozen times over, than 
 I'd have had such a warning as this. I wonder whether it's 
 for me or missis. Oh ! oh ! there it is again ! and I daren't 
 get out of bed for a light. I can't stand it any longer — I'll 
 screech for missis." 
 
 So she did, with all her lungs. Mrs. Ashdell heard her, 
 as well as John, who started up in haste. " There's some- 
 thing up ! thieves, I shouldn't wonder; I'll run and pit :1s 
 
202 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 into them as soon as I get on my trousers. What shall 1 
 take ? My water-jug, and throw it at 'em — water and all. 
 What a row she's making. It's very clear they haven't 
 killed her yet. I'm coming, Martha, you needn't be afraid." 
 
 Mrs. Ashdell slipped on her dressing-gown, and lit her 
 candle, then she went to Martha's room, followed by John, 
 carrying his water-jug. Martha was sitting up in bed, 
 screaming with all her force, and looking the very picture 
 of fright, though what there was to be frightened at neither 
 John nor his mother could see. 
 
 " I'm so glad you've come ma'am ; I don't know what 
 it is, but there's a something in the room that there hadn't 
 ought to be. Oh ! I feel it now, a pricking and a prick- 
 ing. Master John, leave the room, do, and let me get up 
 and dress myself ! " 
 
 " I dare say it's only a pin," said John, " You're as full 
 of fancies, Martha, as — " 
 
 " Not half so full as some one I could name. There it 
 is again ; I feel it now ; it's a monster, whatever it is ! " 
 
 "An overgrown flea," suggested John, who had not 
 yet forgiven Martha the deception she had practised on 
 him with regard to the calf. 
 
 Mrs. Ashdell came up to the bed and put her hand in ; 
 then she pulled out the hedgehog, screaming a little as she 
 did so. 
 
 " It's Jack ! " cried John, running up to his favorite, 
 and embracing it, as much a hedgehog can be embraced. 
 
 Martha's indignation knew no bounds, and even Mrs. 
 
CATCHING A WEASEL ASLEEP. 203 
 
 Ashdell scolded John, and insisted upon his pet being dis- 
 missed the next morning, so John was reluctantly obliged 
 to turn Jack adrift, and seek for another subject to ex- 
 periment upon. 
 
 While he was deliberating which of the dumb creation 
 he should honor by selecting for this purpose, he received 
 an invitation to spend a week in London in company with 
 Bob, at the home of another uncle of both. Bob and he 
 had a fine time of it. They went up to the Monument and 
 down to the Thames Tunnel, visited Madame Tussaud's, 
 the Polytechnic, and many other places equally congenial 
 to school-boys, but the best of all in John's opinion was 
 the Museum. He would have liked to visit the Zoological 
 Gardens again, in spite of very recent unpleasant ex- 
 periences there ; but Bob flatly refused to accompany him, 
 and hinted that if he asked any of his other cousins to do 
 so, he would tell his uncle " what a mull he had made of it 
 last time ; " therefore John thought it best to say nothing 
 about the Zoological, and content himself instead with vis- 
 iting the Museum. 
 
 It really was not a bad substitute, as John said "you could 
 look at the creatures as long as you pleased, without their 
 being able to hide themselves in the further parts of their 
 dens, where there was no seeing them." 
 
 " Or clawing off your cap," Bob added, " and running 
 off where there was no getting it." 
 
 John ignored this remark altogether, as he was apt to 
 do remarks of a similar nature, and went from one animal 
 
204 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 to another, scrutinizing its conformation as attentively as if 
 he wished to learn how to stuff it himself. He was espe- 
 cially taken with a great brown bear. " That's a creature 
 I should like to have the training of," he observed to Bob. 
 " Give me a fair chance and no interference, and I do 
 think something might be done with it." 
 
 " I'd rather you than me," said Bob ; " they've a nasty 
 trick of hugging, I've heard." 
 
 " It depends on the management," replied John ; " tackle 
 them the right way, and they can be brought to reason, 
 like anything else. I only wish I'd the chance, Bob ; I've 
 an 'idea' I might do a great deal with a bear." 
 
 Their visit to the Museum took place on the last day of 
 their stay in London. They were to leave by the 5:10 
 train as before, in order to catch the last omnibus at Shed- 
 ley, having each a little luggage to carry home, besides a 
 new kite which his aunt had given Bob, and a miniature 
 steam-engine with which his uncle had presented John. 
 These presents had given the latter very great satisfaction, 
 more to him indeed, than to Bob, who was not altogether 
 pleased when John told him that he had an " idea " he 
 could do something with that kite of his. Benjamin 
 Franklin had learned a great deal from a kite, but there 
 were one or two things he had not quite found out about 
 it. Bob, who knew nothing of Benjamin Franklin, would 
 have been very well content to have flown his kite in his 
 own fashion, which had always done very well ; and his 
 mind misgave him that if his cousin once got hold of it 
 
CATCHING A WEASEL ASLEEP. 205 
 
 the kite would be fit for very little afterwards. As 
 to the steam-engine, John was sure that he should learn 
 more about it than either Watts or Stephenson had ever 
 found out, and was busy holding forth on the discoveries 
 yet to be made in science, all the while they were in the 
 cab which took them to the terminus. So full was he of 
 these new thoughts, indeed, that he appeared quite tc 
 have forgotten his theories of developing the intellectual 
 faculties of the dumb creation, and even to have ceased 
 regretting the want of opportunities of cultivating the 
 acquaintance of a bear. There is no knowing how much 
 Science might have gained, and Natural History have 
 lost, had it not been for the singular chance which befell 
 John while waiting at the terminus for the 5:10 train. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 HOW A BEAR FINDS HIMSELF IN BAD COMPANY, AND THB 
 VILLAGE IS SCARED OUT OF ITS PROPRIETY. 
 
 TN STEAD of taking their places at once in the train, 
 ■*■ John and Bob stood at the entrance to the terminus 
 watching the cabs drive up and the passengers alighting. 
 There were still some minutes to spare before they 
 started, when they saw a covered cart or small van com- 
 ing up, out of which alighted the same woman to whom 
 John had given up his seat in the omnibus three weeks 
 before. The gas-light fell full on her face, as she got out 
 of the cart, but she had no baby with her, and looked 
 altogether more cheerful and in better trim than on the 
 rainy night when John had befriended her. As she stood 
 at the door of the cart, she turned and said to some one 
 within — 
 
 " You're sure you've got him all safe ? " 
 
 " Safe ? yes, to be sure, and as tight as a trivet ; and, if 
 he wasn't, he's as mild as mother's milk, and might be 
 trusted with a babby," said a man's voice from the inside 
 of the van. 
 
A BEAR IN BAD COMPANY. 207 
 
 " I wouldn't like to trust him with mine," replied the 
 woman, laughing as she spoke ; and then she stepped into 
 the booking-office, and came back presently with two 
 tickets in her hand. As she passed the boys, she caught 
 sight of John and recognized him at once. 
 
 " Good-evening, young gentlemen ; how strange that I 
 should meet you again ! " she hesitated a little, then, her 
 face brightening up, said — 
 
 " Perhaps you'd like to see him ; he's the finest we've 
 ever had — he's in there," — she pointed to the van — "and 
 we've got a lantern inside." 
 
 " What is he ? " asked John eagerly ; "a dog ? " 
 
 " No, he's a bear ; my husband is going to take him 
 down by the rail to Studleigh. There's to be a fair there 
 to-morrow ; we've got a wild-beast show — the van's there 
 to-day. I went down to settle about it that rainy night, 
 and see about lodgings. I'm coming down to-morrow, and 
 my husband's going down with the bear to-night. He only 
 came up to the London Docks to-day, and the show would 
 be nothing without him. He's the tamest creature that 
 ever was, and such a big one ! " 
 
 " Let me see him ! Let me see him ! " cried John, in a 
 high state of excitement. " It's a bear, Bob ; the very 
 thing I've been wishing for ; and tame already. I wonder 
 how they've done it." 
 
 He was in the van while he spoke, and the woman who stood 
 at the door said, " It's the young gentleman, George, as was 
 so kind to me that rainy night. You'll let him see Buffer ?" 
 
208 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 " Yes, and welcome, as long as he pleases," replied the 
 man, " only I think it's time Buffer and I was a going ; — 
 there's the bell ringing. Sorry to part good company, sir, 
 but I must take Buffer in and give him a snug place in the 
 horse-box. I must travel with him, they tell me, to make 
 sure he's all right ; but, law ! they needn't fear, Buffer's as 
 quiet as a lamb." 
 
 Buffer's master had got out while he was speaking, and 
 then helped Buffer himself out of the van. Bob shrank 
 back trembling, behind the woman, who went up to the 
 bear and patted his shaggy hide as familiarly as she migh* 
 have done a Newfoundland dog. Buffer was an enormous 
 creature, and of a deep, blackish brown. For a bear, he 
 had a pleasant expression, but both his hind and fore legs 
 were secured by stout ropes, which, however, left him suf- 
 ficient liberty to walk erect, and to make some use of his 
 fore paws if so disposed. Two of the railway porters came 
 up to escort him to his carriage, and his master led hirr 
 carefully by a rope while his mistress walked behind. 
 Altogether Buffer had quite a guard of honor, which 
 was increased by John, who ran up to the man called 
 George, and said eagerly — 
 
 " Let me go with him, do ! I do want to see some more 
 of a bear, I wouldn't lose such a chance for anything." 
 
 " Let him go, George," pleaded the woman. " Buffer's 
 as quiet as a Christian, and wouldn't hurt anybody." 
 
 " Oh ! I'm not a bit afraid of his hurting me," cried 
 John. " I know how to manage him too well for that 
 
A BEAR IN BAD COMPANY. 209 
 
 He seems pretty tame, but if he wasn't, I'd soon make 
 him so." 
 
 " Well, it's more than many a youngster would do, to 
 choose a bear for a travelling companion," said the man ; 
 " but he is quiet, and you've been very kind to my missus, 
 so come along with us. I'll take care he doesn't do you 
 any harm." 
 
 " Oh ! I can take care of myself," replied John. "He 
 wouldn't hurt me. Dumb creatures never do hurt those 
 that know how to manage them." 
 
 They were in the horse-box by this time ; John looked 
 around for Bob, and saw him standing on the platform 
 quite afraid to follow them, but evidently very much disin- 
 clined to travel by himself. 
 
 " Jump in, Bob," cried John ; " the train will be off in a 
 minute ; get in ; never mind the porters, they'll only think 
 you're another keeper." 
 
 " Are you going, sir ? take your place," said one of the 
 porters ; and Bob, hardly knowing what he was about, 
 sprang into the horse-box just as the train was about to start. 
 
 He kept as far as he could from the bear, however, and 
 presently looked fearfully up at its keeper, saying " Is he 
 fond of hugging." 
 
 " Not particularly," replied George, otherwise Mr. 
 Sims ; " and if he does, it's all love and affection. He's 
 the quietest creature going." 
 
 " Will he bite ? " asked Bob, keeping as far as he could 
 from the " quiet creature." 
 14 
 
210 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 " Not a bit, unless it's his dinner ; besides, he's muz- 
 zled." 
 
 " There you are," said John loftily ; " you muzzle the 
 poor fellow, and tie him hand and foot, and call that tam- 
 ing him ! Taming him ! why, you don't know how to do 
 it. Now if that bear was mine, I should go to work in a 
 very different manner, and I'd have him as gentle as a 
 lamb in no time — fit to travel first-class along with the 
 other passengers, instead of being shut up in a horse-box 
 like this by himself, poor fellow ! " 
 
 " And how would you go to work, young gentleman ? n 
 asked Mr. Sims, a little curiously. 
 
 "Treat him with confidence, to be sure. Take the 
 muzzle off his mouth, to begin with." 
 
 " I'll jump off the train if you do ! " shrieked Bob, 
 looking aghast with horror. 
 
 " Don't frighten yourself, sir," said Mr. Sims ; " the 
 muzzle is not off yet." 
 
 " And I'd cut those cords. I should like that bear to 
 feel that I trusted in him. I'd treat him like a gentleman ; 
 that's my idea, and then see if he wouldn't behave like 
 one," said John, warming up with his subject. " Oh ! if 
 you'd only let me have that bear to do as I liked with, you'd 
 see what would come of it." 
 
 " I expect I should," replied Mr. Sims. " No, no, 
 young gentleman, we'll let well alone, if you please. Buf- 
 fer's not a bad fellow, but he wants a little looking after." 
 
 John went up to Buffer, stroked his paws and his head, 
 
A BEAR IN BAD COMPANY. 21 1 
 
 and Buffer appeared gratified by these delicate attentions. 
 Mr. Sims pulled out a short pipe and smoked thoughtfully 
 for a few seconds ; then, taking it from his mouth, ob- 
 served — 
 
 " I'm afraid I shall have a bother about getting Buffer 
 to the van at Studleigh. What do you think, now, sir, 
 they'd charge for a cart to take him over there ? " 
 
 " What do you want a cart for ? " asked John ; " isn't 
 there the omnibus ? " 
 
 " They wouldn't let him ride there," said Mr. Sims, " or 
 else it would come a deal cheaper to take him over to 
 Studleigh that way." 
 
 " Who'll hinder him ? " asked John ; " I wouldn't ask 
 leave, but take him in just the same as any other pas- 
 senger ; and I know he'll behave a great deal better than 
 somebody he's likely to meet with in the omnibus, and 
 that's old Gruph, that row'd so because your wife wanted 
 to get in with her baby the other night when it rained so." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Gruph is likely to be in the omnibus, is he ? " 
 said Mr. Sims ; " then it strikes me that anyhow there'll be 
 one bear going by it, whether mine does or not." 
 
 "There just will," said Bob; and then John and he 
 proceeded to narrate several very interesting anecdotes, 
 not calculated to display Mr. Gruph's character in a very 
 favorable light. Mr. Sims listened attentively. 
 
 " He's a nice man — very ! " he observed, when they 
 had finished. "Upon my word, I think my Buffer is 
 much too good to travel in his company. If it was only 
 
212 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 him in the omnibus, I shouldn't mind chancing it — if Buf- 
 fer did give him a fright it wouldn't be more than he 
 deserved. But, you see, the other passengers mightn't 
 like it." 
 
 "There's never many of them by this train. Old 
 Fripp's going for a wonder. I don't know what's made 
 Gruph and him so late. They generally come by the 5:10, 
 but I'm sure Buffer will behave himself like a gentleman, 
 if they only let him alone." 
 
 " But, you see, there's the getting into the omnibus," 
 said Mr. Sims. " People may cry out if they see a bear 
 walking into it." 
 
 " But they won't see him," cried John ; " couldn't we rig 
 him out a bit ? — throw a cloak over him, or put on one of 
 your jackets. You've got your box here ; isn't there any- 
 thing we could fit him out with ? " 
 
 Mr. Sims seemed to think there might be. It occurred 
 to him as very probable, that he might get his bear safely 
 conveyed in the omnibus, which would cost him much less 
 than if he hired a cart, and if Buffer did frighten Mr. Gruph, 
 there would be no great harm done. Accordingly he 
 opened his box, and took out an old jacket and a wide-awake. 
 He put the former on Buffer, untying the cord which se- 
 cured his paws for the purpose, much to Bob's alarm, and 
 then securing it again. There was a difficulty about the 
 wide-awake. Nature did not appear to have intended Buf- 
 fer's head for a hat, and the wide-awake wouldn't keep on, 
 till John suggested tying it down with a handkerchief. 
 
A BEAU IN BAD COMPANY. 213 
 
 which would also assist in concealing the very peculiar 
 shape of Buffer's face. There was a difficulty about his 
 legs ; Mr. Sims had a spare pair of trousers, but he doubted 
 their fitting Buffer, neither did he altogether fancy the task 
 of enduing him with them. John would gladly have done 
 so, but Mr. Sims refused to allow him, but at last the diffi- 
 culty was solved by Buffer's being judiciously draped in an 
 old horse-cloth, which Mr. Sims had brought with him, and 
 which, flung round him something like a Spanish cloak, 
 caused Buffer to assume a very imposing and almost mar- 
 tial appearance. There was no light in the horse-box, but 
 the moon shone clear and full, so that they could perform 
 Buffer's toilet with every facility, and Bob looked on half- 
 frightened, but still a little amused at the bear's metamor- 
 phosis, and thinking he should be very well pleased to see 
 him hugging Mr. Gruph, if only he were quite sure that he 
 wouldn't afterwards hug him. 
 
 They had only just finished Buffer's toilet as the train 
 stopped. Bob got out first, and kept at a safe distance from 
 him, while John assisted him out with the utmost polite- 
 ness. Mr. Sims kept by his protege's side, and John and 
 he escorted him very carefully down the railway stairs. 
 Bob ran on first, in fact he was hesitating whether he 
 should not run all the way, and leave John in the exclusive 
 possession of Buffer's society. He did not at all fancy rid- 
 ing in the omnibus with him, but still there would be Mr. 
 Sims as a protection, and it was just possible that Buffer 
 might turn some of his attention to Mr. Gruph ; it struck 
 
214 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 Bol) that Mr. Sims would not be at all displeased if he did 
 So, on the whole, he resolved to risk the ride with Buffer, 
 in the hope that Mr. Gruph might make that gentleman's 
 acquaintance before the journey was over. 
 
 There were very few passengers by the omnibus that 
 night. Mr. Fripp and Mr. Gruph had already taken their 
 seats in it when Buffer made his entry there. He was a 
 well-behaved bear, and so made the entry in a more satis- 
 factory manner than might have been expected. John, who 
 had got in first, helped him to follow, and sat down by the 
 side of his new friend. Bob came next, and got as far off 
 as possible, taking his place by the side of Mr. Fripp. A 
 bear must be an audacious one indeed, Bob thought, who 
 would take liberties with him. Mr. Sims was about to enter 
 next, when he remembered that he had left his box behind, 
 and ran off to secure it. The train had started when he 
 reached the platform, but his trunk was there, and taking it 
 up he came slowly down, for it was heavy, and found the 
 omnibus had started off without him. There was nothing 
 for it but to leave the trunk behind for the present, and 
 walk on without it. 
 
 Bob gave a faint cry of alarm when he found the omni- 
 bus going on without Mr. Sims, when Mr. Gruph uttered 
 one of the little speeches that made him so popular in » 
 Studleigh, to the effect that boys ought not to be allowed to 
 ride in public vehicles till they could behave themselves. 
 Mr. Fripp blandly asked if Bob had hurt himself, to which 
 Bob gave a faint negative, but added that they had left 
 
A BEAR IN BAD COMPANY. 215 
 
 some one behind, and he was almost afraid to travel with- 
 out him. 
 
 " Now, then ! " cried John, in a warning voice, and as he 
 accidentally gave Buffer a slight poke as he spoke, thai 
 worthy emitted a faint growl, which made Bob tremble. 
 
 " He'll set him on to me if I don't mind," thought that 
 an nappy boy. " Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! if the omnibus would 
 only stop, I'd get out and run all the way ! " 
 
 Mr. Fripp again repeated his inquiries, and Bob informed 
 him that it was the friend of the gentleman opposite who 
 had been left behind, and he thought it was very likely he 
 would miss him. 
 
 " Not a bit of it," said John stoutly ; " hasn't he got me 
 to see to him ? Do you think I can't take good care of 
 him ? " 
 
 " Is your friend an invalid, then ? " asked Mr. Fripp. 
 " A cold night for travelling, sir, if you're in delicate 
 health." 
 
 Buffer only replied to Mr. Fripp's polite inquiries by an- 
 other growl ; not that he was angry with that gentleman for 
 making them, but John was employed about him just now 
 in a manner that rather disturbed his equanimity. He 
 scarcely liked being meddled with by strange hands, and 
 did not appreciate the kind offices John's were perform- 
 ing in cutting the bonds with which Mr. Sims had so care- 
 fully secured him. 
 
 For John had lost no time in carrying out his theory of 
 treating Buffer with trust and confidence. He had asked 
 
216 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 Mr. Sims repeatedly during the operation of dressing that 
 personage, to allow him to leave his fore paws at liberty — 
 " hands " John called them, with a delicate regard to Buffer's 
 feelings ; but Mr. Sims had met him with the excuse, " Safe 
 bind, safe find ; " and much other wisdom of the same kind ; 
 so now John made the most of his opportunity, and set 
 Buffer's limbs at liberty, greatly to Bob's horror, who could 
 just perceive enough of John's movements to guess what 
 he was about. 
 
 " If he isn't letting him loose ! " said Bob to himself f 
 " he'll undo his muzzle next ; here's a precious go ! I won- 
 der which of us he'll take to first. I can't get out, for I 
 should have to pass him first, and he'll make a grab at me 
 as sure as fun ! I'd squeeze through one of the windows, 
 but the omnibus is going so fast I daren't ! If he'd be con- 
 tent with old Gruph, it wouldn't so much matter, but he's 
 sure to tackle me, just because I'm the nearest. Oh, dear ! 
 oh, dear ! if I only get out of this mess, catch me ever go- 
 ing out with John again." 
 
 Mr. Fripp again addressed Buffer, — whom, from the 
 peculiar utterances he had made, he took for an invalid 
 with a bad cold, — and remarked that he had come to a very 
 healthy neighborhood. Buffer emitted another growl ; he 
 didn't exactly understand what John was about, and besides, 
 the jolting of the omnibus was not agreeable. John would 
 have freed him from the muzzle, but that was too delicate 
 an operation to be performed without a better light than 
 the moon — which every now and then was obscured b) 
 
A BEAR IN BAD COMPANY. 217 
 
 clouds — could give, but he felt quite happy now in the 
 thought that he had been able to restore Buffer to part, at 
 least, of the liberty of which he had been so unjustly de- 
 prived, and patted him on the shoulder in the most friendly 
 manner possible. John was intensely happy. Here was 
 the very opportunity he had been longing for. A real live 
 bear to fraternize with, to improve, develop, and civilize ! 
 What a happy chance it was that Mr. Sims had left his 
 trunk behind, and thus left him free to make the best of 
 Buffer ! 
 
 The omnibus came to a bad bit of road, and jolted un- 
 mercifully. Buffer, who from the first had been perched 
 in rather an uncomfortable manner, was thrown forward by 
 it, and fell head foremost almost on Bob's lap. That wretch- 
 ed boy gave a shriek of agony, and clung wildly to Mr. 
 Fripp. 
 
 "Keep him off! keep him off!" he shouted. "John, 
 John, don't let him eat me up alive ! " 
 
 Mr. Fripp was thunderstruck by the liberty Bob had 
 taken in flinging his arms round his neck in this uncere- 
 monious manner. Mr. Gruph asked Bob indignantly what 
 he meant by such behavior, and threatened to stop the 
 omnibus and tell Smith to turn out the drunken passenger. 
 
 " He isn't drunk ! " cried Bob, holding Mr. Fripp more 
 tightly than ever ; " oh ! don't I wish he was ! He's going 
 down to the wild-beast show, and he's no business to be 
 here at all." 
 
 " Of course he hasn't ! " said Mr. Gruph, indignantly 
 
2l8 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 " A travelling menagerie keeper ! If Smith goes on taking 
 such people as this in, I shall discontinue to patronize his 
 omnibus." 
 
 " He won't hurt," cried John, " if you'll only let the poor 
 fellow be. Here, Buffer, Buffer, get up." 
 
 He drew Buffer back by the rope which hung from his 
 neck, to the other end of the omnibus. Buffer growled 
 and Bob trembled. 
 
 " Open the door and throw him out. I tell you you'll 
 be in for murder, John, if you keep him in here." 
 
 "Dear me! dear me!" said Mr. Fripp, "somebody 
 must actually have trusted these boys with a madman. I 
 suppose that was his keeper left behind." 
 
 " It was his keeper, sure enough," cried Bob, " but he's 
 not mad ; I only wish that was the worst of it." 
 
 Mr. Fripp looked — or would have looked, if there had 
 been light enough, to see his face — aghast. He bent for- 
 ward and whispered to Mr. Gruph, " Some desperate char- 
 acter escaped from the prison at St. Maur. Taking him 
 back I imagine ; but what a disgraceful thing for the 
 authorities to entrust one man only with the charge of him. 
 I'll make inquiries into it, and write to the Times." 
 
 " I'll tell Smith if he isn't more careful in his selection 
 of passengers, his omnibus may give up running. What 
 respectable persons does he think will ever travel by it if 
 they're liable to be annoyed in this manner," replied Mr 
 Gruph, in a tone which was echoed to the life by a grow) 
 from Buffer. 
 
A BEAR IN BAD COMPANY. 219 
 
 " Oh, John ! John ! don't aggravate him," shrieked Bob. 
 • If you make him angry, there's no knowing what he may 
 be up to." 
 
 Mr. Fripp and Mr. Gruph kept silence after this. The^ 
 had both arrived at the conclusion that they were shut up 
 with a murderer, or, at the very least, a daring and unscru- 
 pulous burglar, and that it would be as well to keep silence 
 for fear of irritating him, Buffer travelled quietly enough, 
 only now and then emitting a faint growl, at which Bob 
 cowered with terror, and clung closer to Mr. Fripp. The 
 omnibus drew up at Mr. Fripp's residence, and that gentle- 
 man made ready to alight ; so did Mr. Gruph, though his 
 house was a little further on the road, but he did not choose 
 to remain any longer in such disreputable society than he 
 could help. A gas-lamp stood just before Mr. Fripp's gate, 
 and its light fell full into the omnibus. Mr. Gruph had a 
 little curiosity to see the features of the supposed felon 
 with whom he was travelling, and turned to look at him, 
 then started back with affright, gasping — " It's — it's a 
 monster ! " 
 
 "No, he isn't," said John ; " he's only a bear, and a 
 well-behaved one too ; ain't you, old fellow ? " 
 
 He gave Buffer a slight poke in the ribs as he spoke, 
 and Buffer gave a low but portentous growl, which sent 
 Mr. Gruph cowering back into the furthest corner of the 
 omnibus. 
 
 Mr. Fripp looked at Buffer ; a look that ought to have 
 reduced any bear to submission ; but it had no effect upon 
 
220 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 Buffer, who was thoroughly tired of the omnibus, and gave 
 another growl. It was clear that the bear was worse even 
 than the village school-boys — they did stand in some awe 
 of Mr. Fripp, but Buffer felt none. 
 
 What was to be done ? Mr. Fripp felt in a very un- 
 comfortable position. He did not at all fancy the idea of 
 passing the bear to get out ; but dinner was waiting, Mr. 
 Fripp was hungry, and not at all disposed to stop in the 
 omnibus all night. 
 
 Buffer looked very formidable. Mr. Fripp thought that 
 it would be better to give some other person the task of 
 encountering him than himself, so he put his head out of 
 the omnibus window, and called out, "Smith, there's a 
 queer customer here ; I think you'd better get down from 
 your box and remove him." 
 
 Smith did not like engaging with "queer customers" 
 any more than Mr. Fripp himself did; therefore he re- 
 plied, with the utmost civility, u I daren't leave my horses, 
 sir ; they're the spiritedest pair I've driven for a long while, 
 and there's no outside passenger left to hold them." 
 
 Then he stooped down to the window of the omnibus, 
 and called out aloud, " Get out there ! do you hear ? What 
 do you mean by annoying the gentlemen ? " 
 
 "He's quiet enough, Smith," said John, " don't be fright- 
 ened. Besides, if the worst comes to the worst, he can 
 only hug ; he's muzzled and can't bite." 
 
 Then he gave Buffer another push in the ribs, which set 
 him growling again, to Mr. Graph's horror, who sat down.. 
 
A BEAR IN BAD COMPANY. 221 
 
 trembling all over ; but that did not last long, he recovered 
 himself sufficiently to tell John he would have him punish- 
 ed with the utmost severity of the law, to say nothing of a 
 good caning from his master ; swore at the bear and 
 John too till he was redder in the face than ever, and only 
 stopped when fairly exhausted for want of breath. A 
 crowd had gathered round the omnibus door by this time, 
 and they were all edified by Mr. Gruph's oration, when Mr. 
 Sims, who had run after the omnibus with all the speed he 
 could use, fearing for the safety of his beloved bear, came 
 up and called out, " Is Buffer there ?" 
 
 " Here he is, and he's behaved like a brick. I told 
 you he would if he was only treated properly," cried 
 John. "Mr. Sims, this bear is the most rational and in- 
 telligent individual I ever met with in my life. My knife 
 was so blunt I couldn't cut all the ropes that fastened 
 him; but, if you'll only lend me yours, I'll soon let him 
 loose, and you'll see him walk out amongst you all, like 
 a gentleman." 
 
 There was a cry from the assembled crowd, and a rush- 
 ing back from the door of the omnibus. " A bear ! a 
 bear ! a real live bear ! shut in there alone with Mr. Gruph 
 and Mr. Fripp. Boys, men, and women fell over one 
 another in their haste to escape ; instead of trying which 
 should be nearest the omnibus, it was who should get 
 farthest off. Never yet had Studleigh witnessed such a 
 scene of confusion and dismay; and, if Buffer had not 
 been the best behaved bear in the world, the uproar 
 
222 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 around him might have driven him to the very measures 
 which every one seemed afraid he would take. 
 
 Mr. Gruph swore more than ever, Mr. Sims heard him 
 with as much composure as his bear, on whom, however, 
 he kept his eye fixed, while he held uplifted a stout stick 
 which he carried. John was highly indignant at this ; and 
 began a remonstrance with Mr. Sims on the injurious effect 
 the sight of the stick was likely to have on Buffer's feelings, 
 but his eloquence was drowned in the torrent of Mr. 
 Gruph's words; and at last, when that gentleman again 
 paused, Mr. Fripp leaned forward, and, addressing Mr. 
 Sims, blandly said, " My good man, can you think of no 
 way by which to remove this extremely dangerous ani- 
 mal from the omnibus, in order that we may leave it with 
 safety." 
 
 " Of course I can, sir," said Mr. Sims, with the utmost 
 politeness ; " happy to do anything to oblige a gentleman. 
 Buffer, Buffer, come along." Then he stepped up to the 
 door of the omnibus, and taking hold of the rope round 
 Buffer's neck, turned towards Mr. Gruph, "Hope you've 
 enjoyed your ride, sir, as much as you did the night when 
 you wouldn't let a woman with a baby in her arms get in 
 out of the pouring rain. Good-night, sir," he added, turn 
 ing to Mr. Fripp, " I hope my bear's not put you out of 
 your way. But it strikes me you've travelled with a 
 worse one than him before now." 
 
 Then Buffer descended, and was led off to the van, 
 which was standing on a piece of ground rejoicing in the 
 
A BEAR IN BAD COMPANY. 223 
 
 name of Studleigh Heath ; and Mr. Fripp, with a little of 
 his usual dignity abated, left the omnibus; Mr. Gruph 
 followed, vowing vengeance against Buffer, his master, and 
 the boys ; and last of all came Bob and John, the former 
 making use of his liberty to run home with his utmost 
 speed to Uncle George, and the latter full of his adven- 
 tures with the bear, and his triumph. Mr. Gruph pro- 
 ceeded, at a more leisurely pace, to recount his exploits at 
 home. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A NEW FIELD OF ACTION FOR JOHN. HIS FIRST IMPRES- 
 SIONS OF WOODHURST. 
 
 TT shows how ungrateful people are (at least John 
 -*• always said so) to those who try to advance their views 
 in any matters, but, after this last little affair, he was not 
 nearly so popular in the village as he had been. Even 
 Mrs. Ashdell saw it, and it vexed her very much. John's 
 "ideas" had made people take an idea into their heads, 
 and that was that he was a rather dangerous person to have 
 to do with. There was no knowing what he might be up to 
 next, as they expressed it ; they felt quite afraid of him and 
 his experiments, and openly said they were almost afraid 
 to sleep in their beds as long as John Ashdell was in the 
 village. 
 
 This grieved Mrs. Ashdell very much. She had lived 
 so long in Studleigh that the thought of leaving it was 
 very painful to her ; while, at the same time, to feel that 
 John, her bright, clever, handsome John, was not appre- 
 ciated as he deserved to be, was almost enough to make 
 her dislike the place and everybody in it. Uncle George 
 
A NEW FIELD OF ACTION. 225 
 
 had a remedy; he said the best thing would be to send 
 John to school again — a good sharp boarding-school, 
 where the nonsense, as he expressed it, might be taken out 
 of him. Mrs. Ashdell couldn't agree with him ; she didn't 
 herself think that there was any nonsense in John ; it was 
 only his way ; he was a great deal cleverer than other 
 people, only he had an odd way of showing it, that was all. 
 In the midst of her troubles and perplexities, there 
 came a letter from an uncle of hers, who was a surgeon in 
 a thriving little town thirty miles from Studleigh, on the 
 same line of rail. He was a widower, his two daughters 
 were married and had left the neighborhood ; and, feeling 
 lonely, it had occurred to him that if his niece came to 
 reside in Woodhurst, it might be a good thing for them 
 both ; she might live with him and keep his house. He 
 had always been fond of her, though of late he had seen 
 very little of her ; but he remembered that she had a son, 
 and, before committing himself further, he thought he 
 should like to see what this son was like. Boys were not 
 always desirable inmates in a quiet house, as the doctoi 
 very well knew. He had had some as pupils, and trouble 
 enough with them. No ; before asking John's mother to 
 reside with him, he would see what John himself was like, 
 therefore he suggested that he should come and stay with 
 him for some months ; there was a good grammar-school 
 in the neighborhood ; John might attend it, and improve 
 himself in Latin and Greek, which his great-uncle suspect- 
 ed he was not so forward in as he might be. The change 
 IS 
 
226 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 would do him good, — the town was by the side of a rivei 
 that entered the sea seven miles off, and the saline breezes, 
 softened by their passage over the land, made Woodhurst, 
 in Mr. Sumner's opinion, a pleasanter residence than the 
 seaside itself. In the autumn he hoped that his niece 
 would come and stay a month or two with him, and at that 
 time, if he found John was as endurable as could be 
 expected of a boy, he would ask Mrs. Ashdell to take 
 up her residence with him, and bring up John, if he showed 
 himself adapted for it, to his own profession. 
 
 Uncle George liked the notion of John's going to 
 Woodhurst very much. " People will forget all about his 
 pranks when he's no longer in the way to remind them 
 what a noodle he is." And his grandmother was pleased 
 at the thought of his going to stay with her brother, but 
 she spoke of it in quite different terms to what Uncle 
 George did. 
 
 " Something will come of it, Mary, my dear," she said 
 to her daughter. " Brother Phil will see what John is, and 
 be delighted with him. That boy's thrown away in a village 
 like this. They are so much behind the time, and he being 
 so far before his, of course they don't understand him. 
 Brother Phil will ; and, you'll see, he'll want to take him 
 into his business, and John will do well at it. Well ! he'll 
 be as famous as Abernethy or Liston, or any of the gentle- 
 men that attend Her Majesty — I'm sure I can't think of 
 their names, but I know they're all baronets at the least ; 
 and there's no reason why John shouldn't be a baronet too ; 
 
A NEW FIELD OF ACTION. 227 
 
 and a credit to his family. I don't mind what they say, my 
 dear, I have such faith in that boy ! " 
 
 That was the worst of it. John wouldn't have been half 
 such a goose as he was, if his grandmother, and his mother 
 too, had not had such " faith " in him. If possible, they be- 
 lieved in him even more than he believed in himself, and, 
 knowing this, Uncle George was doubly anxious that the 
 boy should leave Studleigh for a time. Woodhurst had 
 a great many more people in it than the little village where 
 John had spent more than half his life ; the Grammar 
 School would be much larger even than the one which 
 John had attended at Bessingham ; and altogether it seem- 
 ed to Mr. George Ashdell that the boy would be likely, at 
 last, to find his level, and learn that there were a few 
 persons in the world, besides himself, who knew how 
 things should be done. 
 
 John himself was delighted at the thoughts of going. 
 He was an affectionate boy, and sorry to leave his mother 
 but even that could not destroy the pleasure he anticipated. 
 Like another Alexander, he saw new worlds to conquer. 
 Here would be people who had never heard of him before 
 to impress with his views and notions as to how matters 
 should be managed, — people whose own notions would not 
 be so cramped as always were those of dwellers in a little 
 village, — John now looked with a little contempt upon 
 Studleigh, and wondered how he had borne with the igno- 
 rance of its people so patiently as he had done. 
 
 He promised to write to his mother very often, and she 
 
228 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 in return said she would send him all the news of the vil 
 lage every week. She made him a great cake to take with 
 him ; had a new suit of clothes made for him ; looked over 
 his shirts ; gave him a new Bible ; and so at last let him 
 go, seeing him off by the railway, and waving her hand to 
 him as he was borne out of sight. 
 
 John was rather low-spirited at first ; but the novelty 
 of travelling through a fresh country, the importance of 
 paying a visit, and the pleasure to which he looked for- 
 ward from that visit, soon drove his depression away. The 
 train was a quick one, and before he thought they could 
 possibly be at Woodhurst, it had stopped, and John saw a 
 gentleman near the carriage door, who he thought must be 
 his great-uncle, though he had not seen him for above 
 four years, when he had paid a visit to Studleigh. John 
 was right ; it was Mr. Sumner, and he held out his hand as 
 John jumped out of the carriage. 
 
 "I thought I knew you again, though you've grown 
 very much, but that was no more than I expected. Come 
 along, here's the gig : jump in, and we'll be home in a trice." 
 
 Mr. Sumner was a great contrast to Uncle George, 
 who, as the saying is, would have made two of him. He 
 was a small, slight, wiry man, with grey heir, a rosy face, 
 and a pair of the keenest, brightest eyes, John thought, that 
 he had ever seen. He liked his uncle's appearance on the 
 whole. " Looks sensible," said John to himself, " and as 
 if he wouldn't take a dislike to a notion, just because it 
 was not his own, or nobody else had heard of it before." 
 
A NEW FIELD OF ACTION. 229 
 
 The town looked bright and lively as they drove 
 through. It boasted of one omnibus and half a dozen 
 cabs. People were bustling to and fro in a different 
 manner to that in which they went about Studleigh, and 
 John, as he looked about him, began to feel as if he had 
 come amongst folks, at last, who were likely to appreciate 
 him. 
 
 They were not long in reaching Mr. Sumner's house. 
 He had his shop, or surgery — as his daughters, who were 
 both now married, liked to call it — in the front, and his 
 private door round the corner. The old gentleman led 
 the way through his shop, and stopped to ask the assistant 
 — who was so pale and thin that John thought he must be 
 in the habit of taking more physic than agreed with him — 
 if he bad been wanted while away. While they were talk- 
 ing, John looked about him and wondered if out of any of 
 the bright bottles he saw in the window he could make 
 some fresh combination which would cure everybody's ail- 
 ments. Then he saw a little machine on the counter, and 
 incautiously laying his hand on it, the assistant turned a 
 nandle, and John found himself tingling all over with the 
 suddenness of the shock he had received. 
 
 " Shouldn't meddle with anything in a doctor's shop," 
 said Mr. Sumner, good-humoredly ; " Knaggs, here, has a 
 habit of paying people off if they do. Now come in to 
 tea ; shut the shop-door, Knaggs. People can ring the 
 bell, if they want you." 
 
 Mr. Sumner did not rely very much upon his shop. Pie 
 
230 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 kept it open because he had done so from the first, but he 
 could have done very well without it. His daughters had 
 long wished him to close it, because it was not genteel ; 
 and, oh ! dear boys, if you've never lived in a country town, 
 you don't know what a dreadful thing it is not to be gen- 
 teel ; but the old gentleman kept it on out of sheer habit, 
 though, as he said, Knaggs shouldn't be disturbed at his meals 
 to sell a sixpenny pot of cold cream ; and if people wanted 
 anything more serious, why, they could ring the bell for it. 
 
 Tea was ready in the parlor at the back of the shop, — 
 cold ham, tea-cakes, and other things. John had made a 
 good dinner only three hours before, so that he was not 
 very hungry now, and he had plenty of time to talk, which 
 he did. Mr. Knaggs, who had always an excellent ap- 
 petite, sat and listened. 
 
 " I should like to know a little more," said John, " about 
 that electrical machine of yours, uncle. I've got an ' idea ' 
 you can do a great deal with galvanism." 
 
 " So you can," said Knaggs, opening his mouth for the 
 first time to talk ; " I should have thought that little touch 
 I gave you would have shown you that." 
 
 John felt rather disgusted. Who was Knaggs, that he 
 should snub him like this — not much more than three years 
 his senior ? he didn't look above eighteen ; perhaps it was 
 that he was a doctor's assistant. " I'll back," said John to 
 himself, " I'll learn all he knows, and a sight more, before 
 I've been a month in the place. It don't seem as if 1 
 should get on well with that fellow." 
 
A NEW FIELD OF ACTION. 23 1 
 
 "You'll have something else to think of for a time," 
 said Mr. Sumner. "The Grammar-school opens to-mor 
 row, and I want you to work hard at your Latin ; the mas- 
 ter here is great in that. Then I think if you were to at- 
 tend the School of Art in the evening, it would be as well. 
 Your mother tells me you've a great notion of drawing, but 
 that you have not had much instruction. We've a good 
 master at the School of Art, and I always say that every 
 one ought to learn free-hand drawing just as they do wri- 
 ting. You never know how useful it may prove — " 
 
 " Just what I think," said John. " Indeed, I've got an 
 ' idea ' that if we could only draw well, we might do with- 
 out writing altogether. Have a system of hieroglyphics, 
 like the ancient Egyptians had." 
 
 " Ah ! you go beyond me there," said his uncle, "though 
 I dare say it would be quite as intelligible as the scrawls 
 some people call writing ; " then he poured himself out an- 
 other cup of tea ; that was his fifth ! The little doctor 
 drank more tea and stronger than any gentleman in the 
 town. The eating he seemed to leave pretty well to 
 Knaggs, who went on steadily at it. John continued : 
 
 " I don't quite agree with the modern notions about 
 perspective, and light and shade. I think in the last mat- 
 ter the Chinese have some sense on their side, and per- 
 spective might be made a much simpler matter than it is. 
 Now, I've got an ' idea ' — " 
 
 " Better tell it to the master, Mr. Ray," said Knaggs, 
 with his mouth full of tea-cake, " and see what he'll say to it" 
 
232 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 " That fellow's a nuisance," thought John ; " I wish I 
 was big enough to lick him." Mr. Sumner looked amused 
 His little bright eyes grew brighter and keener as he 
 watched the two. Presently there was a ring at the bell. 
 Mr. Sumner was wanted to see to somebody's boy, who had 
 been climbing a ladder up which he had no business to go, 
 fallen down, and broken his arm. Off Mr. Sumner went, 
 leaving Knaggs and John together. " Make yourselves 
 comfortable," he said, " while I am gone. I shall find you 
 as good friends when I come back as if you'd known one 
 another all your lives." 
 
 John didn't think so. He had finished his tea, but he 
 sat and looked at Knaggs, who seemed as if he would never 
 get through his. 
 
 At last he had done, and went back to the shop, where 
 he amused himself with looking over a book — a medical 
 one to judge by the pictures — and John finding an old vol- 
 ume of " Robinson Crusoe," the two passed the evening 
 not very sociably till Mr. Sumner came home, and Black, 
 the man of all work, put the shutters up, after which they 
 had supper, prayers, and then to bed ; when John dreamed 
 he was telling Knaggs of the theory of perpetual motion, 
 and exemplifying it by making him dance a hornpipe with 
 the galvanic apparatus applied to his leg, and keeping him 
 jerking up and down whether he would or not. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 JOHN MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. HOW BETWEEN THEM THE1 
 ASTONISH THE NATIVES. 
 
 ' I "HE next morning John was down early and in the 
 •*• shop, where Knaggs was already busy compounding 
 medicines. John offered to help him. Nothing he would 
 have liked better if the other would only have trusted him ; 
 but that was what Knaggs did not feel disposed to do. 
 John had to look on, while he spread plasters and mixed 
 pills ; and at last getting tired of this amusement, he asked 
 Knaggs when they breakfasted, as he should like to take 
 a tour round the town, and see what there was to be seen, 
 if there was time to do so/ 
 
 " You've got a good haif-hour," said Knaggs, " and I 
 shall get on just as well without you as with you. I don't 
 pound pills any the better for being looked at. 
 
 John thought Knaggs about the most disagreeable per- 
 son he had ever encountered ; but the truth was, Knaggs, 
 though in years a mere boy, was one of the " old school " — 
 a thorough Conservative, if you know what that is, boys ; 
 although Knaggs would tell you himself, he never med- 
 
^34 THE B0Y WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 died at all with politics ; a lad who had little faith in any- 
 thing new, who liked to go on the same beaten road from 
 one year's end to another, and who looked upon John as a 
 very dangerous and rather unpleasant person. He didn't 
 like his " ideas" at all. He was not quite as much alarmed 
 by them as the good people of Studleigh had been, for he 
 meant to keep an eye upon John, and see that he did not 
 meddle with anything in the shop ; but then he didn't 
 want the bother of keeping that eye, having — to use 
 his own expression— quite enough to do without looking 
 after anybody, and from all that John had said, Knaggs 
 wouldn't have been at all surprised if John had wanted 
 to spread poor man's plaster with brimstone and treacle, 
 and make cough-mixture of soap and water. 
 
 " Well, I think I shall take a turn," said John. " Is 
 there anything in the town worth looking at ? " 
 
 " Not by you, I dare say," said Knaggs. " We're slow 
 people down here. It can't be expected folks that come 
 from London will think much about us." 
 
 " Oh ! / don't come from London," said John, " though 
 I've seen a good deal of it ; Studleigh is much nearer to it 
 than Woodhurst. I like London, though, pretty well ; but 
 it's too big, that's the worst of it, and the smoke's a nui- 
 sance. Such a waste, too. Do you know, I've got an 
 * idea ' — had it for a long time, too — that a deal might be 
 done with that smoke. I don't mean merely consume it- 
 self — that's nothing ! but consume other things. Catch 
 it ; condense it ; turn it back into coal again, and there 
 
JOHN MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 235 
 
 you are ! Look at the saving ! Look at the fuel you 
 get ! — an inexhaustible supply ! And they're saying that 
 if we go on as we're doing now, we sha'n't have coal 
 enough to last us above another thousand years or so. 
 What's to become of our great-grandchildren at that rate, 
 that's what I want to know," said John, putting his hands 
 in his pockets, and looking every inch a great-grandfather. 
 " Some day I think I shall take out a patent for that no- 
 tion. It'll pay. I see you've got a stove here ; if I stop 
 till the winter I shall ask uncle to let me try with that. 
 It's safest to begin on a small scale, you know — " 
 
 " Have you done ? " said Knaggs — he had left off his 
 compounding and looked intently at John — " because if 
 you have, I'll go on. But I don't want to be poisoning peo- 
 ple, and I am likely to do it if this chattering goes on 
 much longer." 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself; I'll go," said John, disdainfully. 
 " It really seems throwing one's words away to waste them 
 upon you" 
 
 Then he went out, wishing for Bob, who always ap- 
 preciated him, or for Teddy Harley, who, if he did now and 
 then quiz him a little, still seemed on the whole to have 
 quite sense enough to enter into some of his " ideas." 
 (: Knaggs is a muff! " he said, " and a prig ! and a mule ! — 
 an obstinate, piggish mule, — and while I'm in this place I'll 
 have as little to say to him as possible." 
 
 If Knaggs had only known that, how thankful he would 
 have been ! 
 
21,6 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 On John went, looking at the queer, old-fashioned little 
 town ; at the gabled houses and the red-tiled roofs, and 
 thinking how different it all was from London, or the little 
 village where he had hitherto spent his life. It was a 
 thriving, prosperous little place, and the river was already 
 astir with pleasure-boats and steamers getting their coals 
 and provisions on board before they went off to London 
 or to the neighboring seaport, which was fast rising in 
 importance as a watering-place. There were people al- 
 ready taking the air on the quay, which was a broad gravel 
 walk planted with trees. The breeze from the water 
 smelled quite strongly of the sea ; and John, as he sniffed 
 it up, said, " I've got an ' idea ' that this might be bottled 
 somehow, just as they do perfumes. Why not ? It would 
 be uncommonly refreshing, and do one almost as much 
 good as going to sea. It would sell too, amazingly — give it 
 a Latin name, and a cut-glass bottle. What a fine thing 
 it would be for any chemist to get hold of ! I'd tell that 
 Knaggs of it, if he wasn't such a queer fellow ; but it's no 
 good throwing away anything upon him." 
 
 On he went, noticing everything — the boatmen getting 
 their craft ready for the day's work ; the cleaning and load- 
 ing of the steamboats ; the people bustling to and fro, and 
 thinking how much better he could do everything than 
 anybody else was doing it, when presently he saw a tall, 
 slight, gentlemanly lad, sauntering along with his hands in 
 his pockets, and surveying all around with an air of calm, 
 half-contemptuous indifference. He was su^e he knew the 
 
JOHN MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 237 
 
 face and the figure. Was it — could it be Teddy Harley — 
 and whatever brought him here ? He ran up to him at 
 once — " Ted ! old fellow ! is that you ? What a comfort 
 to have a rational soul to speak to ! " 
 
 Ted deigned to show a little interest now. " How did 
 you come here ? " he said. " I came by the boat yesterday 
 from London. We've been staying at Richmond on a visit 
 for the last fortnight ; then we thought we'd go to Fellrow 
 for sea-air. The governor's been ailing, and they say Fellrow 
 will just suit him. The mater and he are going by the 
 omnibus there to-day, to look for lodgings. It's an idiotic 
 little place, I should say," added Ted, superciliously. 
 " Nothing goes direct to it but just that omnibus. No rail, 
 no boat, — and we're to live there for a month. Some people, 
 they say, live there for years ! How they stand it, I can't 
 think. It seems to me rather a sell, going there for one's 
 holidays ; still, if the governor's seedy, you know there's 
 nothing else to be done. I wonder how we shall get 
 through the time ! Pick up periwinkles and throw stones 
 in the water — that's the only thing that I see for it." 
 
 " I'll come and see you," said John, enthusiastically. 
 " I'm down here staying with my great-uncle. I'm to go 
 to the Grammar-school to rub up my Latin, and the 
 School of Art to get up my drawing ; but I'll find time to 
 come and see you every half-holiday. What's seven miles 
 for the sake of getting a little rational conversation ! " 
 
 "Ah! I don't suppose you'll get much of that here," 
 said Ted, gravely. "But what can be expected from a 
 
238 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 country town, you know. I think all country towns are a 
 hundred years behind the time, — and you're to go to the 
 Grammar-school. Why didn't they send you to the great 
 South Middlesex. I think that's the only place in the 
 kingdom worth calling a school." 
 
 Ted seemed quite to forget that there were such places 
 as Eaton, Rugby, or Harrow, and his speaking as he did of 
 country towns may be accounted for by the fact that though 
 for several years he had lived in the village of Studleigh, he, 
 in common with most of the better-class resident there, re- 
 garded himself as a Londoner, and the pretty little village 
 only as a suburb of the great city. He would have scout- 
 ed the idea of his being anything but a metropolitan, be- 
 cause it took him half-an-hour by rail to reach the me- 
 tropolis, — as would every gentleman who went to and from 
 his business and his home by the same train that carried 
 Ted towards his school. 
 
 " It's not a bad place," said John, " and I think I shall 
 like it for a time. I suppose some of the boys at the 
 school will have something in them, and I want to get on 
 with my Latin. I wish you'd ask your governor if you 
 could spend the day with me. It'll be a precious sight bet- 
 ter than mooning about by yourself." 
 
 "So it will," said Ted. "I'll go home at once and ask 
 him. Where do you hang out, — shall I come to 
 you ? " 
 
 "Do, and I'll show you Knaggs; he's the biggest muff 
 that ever you saw. When my uncle makes a doctor of 
 
JOHN MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 239 
 
 Ktm, I shall believe in making a purse out of a sow's ear." 
 Then he told Ted where he could find him, and went 
 back to breakfast. 
 
 Mr. Harley was very ready to let Ted spend the day 
 with hi'; friend. It was much better than having his com- 
 pany al Fellrow, or leaving him to roam about by him- 
 self; and Ted, having seen his father and mother safely 
 off by the omnibus, proceeded at once to Mr. Sumner's 
 house, where he found John eagerly expecting him. 
 
 The little doctor asked him to come in to dinner, and 
 said that if he could spare the time afterwards he would 
 take them both out with him. " I haven't many people to 
 see to-day," he said, " and I think I shall get through my 
 rounds this morning. Afterwards I'll take you and let 
 you see what little our town has to show." 
 
 So he did ; giving them first a capital dinner, at which 
 Knaggs sat looking very melancholy, but eating all before 
 him in a business-like manner. Ted made himself quite 
 at home, showing off a few of his grand airs for the benefit 
 of Knaggs, who had something else to do than to attend to 
 them, and if Ted meant, as he had told John he wanted, 
 to "astonish the natives," he certainly failed to do so in the 
 case of Knaggs. Mr. Sumner was rather annoyed by the 
 boy, though he was just as well pleased that John seemed 
 free from any nonsense of the kind. " He won't be here 
 long enough to do the other any harm," he thought to 
 himself. "I shouldn't like John to take up with any of 
 his notions." 
 
240 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 It was not very long before he found out that John had 
 quite enough of his own. 
 
 They went round the town, and Ted condescended to 
 praise some of the shops, and said he should certainly buy 
 a shilling knife in one of them, — people ought to patronize 
 a place whenever they visited it. John and he had been 
 by the river that morning, so the streets were fresh to 
 them both ; then they saw the Town Hall, which Ted said 
 wasn't so bad, considering ; and looked into the Museum, 
 which Ted also deigned to praise. " It was a tidy little 
 affair — very," he said. " Everything that was in it would 
 go into one small room of the British Museum ; but for a 
 country place, it was very well." Then they came near a 
 white brick building, with an imposing facade, four pillars 
 supporting a pediment, and with " School of Art" inscribed 
 upon it in large letters. 
 
 " Shall we go in here ? " said Mr. Sumner, and in the 
 boys and he went, removing a large curtain, and pushing 
 on, in spite of the warning placard which said, " Students 
 only Admitted." 
 
 They were in a large, dreary looking room, with 
 sketches and unfinished paintings round the walls. Casts 
 of fruit, and busts, and birds on the shelves ; and several 
 long, narrow tables, at which three or four students were 
 at work. It was lit by three tall windows on one side, and 
 on the opposite was the fire-place, which seemed quite in- 
 adequate, and certainly was so, to warm so large and lofty 
 a room. Altogether the appearance of things was not at- 
 
JOHN MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 241 
 
 tractive. There was no teacher or master present, and the 
 boys looked about them a little while, and then began to 
 think it time to come away. 
 
 " If it's as slow as this every time you come here, you'll 
 have enough of it," said Ted. " Those are such solid-look- 
 ing fellows over there. There don't seem any chance of 
 getting up a spree with any one of them." 
 
 " It don't seem to me," said Mr. Sumner, " that people 
 come to school for the mere sake of having a spree ; though, 
 by what I hear from the other end of the room, something 
 very like one is going on there." 
 
 There was a curtain drawn across the further end of 
 the room, and from behind this, one could hear voices and 
 laughter. " A pretty way of giving lessons," said Mr. 
 Sumner, who was a little of the old school, and a great ad- 
 viser of discipline. But the truth was it was not lesson 
 time at all, only a few of the students had come there to 
 practise, and the master, with some more of the advanced 
 pupils, had just finished a drawing from the life. This was 
 something over and above the school routine, and, there- 
 fore, the young ladies who had been at work considered 
 themselves entitled to indulge in a little conversation. 
 
 " This is Mr. Ray's room," said Mr. Sumner, " but 1 
 suppose we may go in ;" and, pushing aside the curtain, in 
 he went, followed by Ted and John, who were a little 
 amused by the scene which met their eyes. 
 
 There was the model and the lay figure, and they were 
 
 both so alike that at first you could hardly tell which was 
 16 
 
242 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 which. The model was an old man who got his living by 
 working on the quays, or gardening, and having rather a 
 fine face, long grey hair, and a wonderful power of sitting 
 still without moving a muscle or even an eyelid, it had oc- 
 curred to Mr. Ray that he would make a very good subject 
 for his pupils to draw from. Simon Stone was ready to sit 
 still as long as he was wanted at a very low price — it was 
 a much easier way of getting a little money than by either 
 of his ordinary avocations, and let the young ladies chatter 
 as they might — and they certainly did chatter, if they were 
 quiet in lesson hours, because in the great school-room 
 they were too far apart for conversation, they made up for 
 it when they were in Mr. Ray's smaller apartment — still 
 Simon Stone never smiled or moved ? he might have been 
 a man of marble, he was so impassive. And he did for so 
 many characters — either a beggar, a smuggler, or saint, 
 according as the drapery was arranged, but to-day he had 
 been taken in his real character, that of a gardener, with a 
 spade in his hand and a basket of vegetables by his side. 
 
 Some of the pupils wishing to have a longer time than 
 the others required, to study the dress and " accessories " 
 f by which they meant the basket of carrots and turnips and 
 spade), Simon had been asked if he could not lend some 
 of his old clothing for the purpose of investing the lay fig- 
 ure in it, and to this he had agreed ; and having brought a 
 suit of fustian, that was certainly past any one's wearing 
 but a wooden figure, who wouldn't want to move about in 
 it, Mr. Ray and he had solemnly invested the model with 
 
JOHN MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 243 
 
 it, placed the spade and the basket just as they had been 
 placed by Simon himself, and then called in the young 
 ladies to see the figure. 
 
 One of the young ladies improved it directly. She had 
 brought an old grey wig with her, which was private stage 
 property, used at home in charades, and having placed this 
 on the figure, and Simon's old battered hat on the top, it 
 was generally agreed that it was hardly to be distinguished 
 from Simon himself, and this had called forth the laughter 
 which had sounded so out of place in Mr. Sumner's ears. 
 Simon himself stood looking grimly on at his duplicate; 
 he always had his clothes cut in one style, and made of the 
 same coarse kind of stuff, and those that he wore were just 
 as dirty and patched as those he had supplied the lay figure 
 with. The hat was the exact fac-simile of the one he had 
 3n, only there was a great hole in the crown, which, how- 
 ever, nobody could see when it was on the figure's head, 
 and the grey wig was so like his own grey hair, that any 
 one not in a position to get a good sight of the face, could 
 hardly tell which was Simon and which was the wooden 
 figure dressed up in his garments. 
 
 The young ladies — there were four of them — looked 
 shyly at Mr. Sumner when he came in. The master stepped 
 forward, and Mr. Sumner introduced John as a future pupil. 
 
 " Have you had any instruction at all ?" said Mr. Ray, 
 who looked good-humored and intelligent, and to whom 
 John's heart warmed at once, as it always did when he 
 thought he had met with anybody capable of understanding 
 
244 THE B0Y WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 him, John said that he had not, " but I've thought a great 
 deal about it. I always had an ' idea ' that a great dea. 
 more could be done by drawing than has ever yet been at- 
 tempted. As I was telling my uncle this morning, it is 
 only another way of writing, only you do it with paint in- 
 stead of pen and ink — that's all. I always had a notion, 
 ever since I went to the Museum, that the Egyptians had 
 a great deal more sense in them than they get credit for. 
 I mean the British Museum, of course ; I've been to yours 
 in this town ; it's a tidy little place ; but, of course, you 
 haven't got much in it." 
 
 The young ladies stared all the time at this notion. 
 Mr. Sumner looked at his nephew in amazement. How 
 ever had his mother brought him up, and where did he 
 learn all this trash ? John felt full of confidence ; it was 
 wonderful how much confidence the sound of his own 
 voice always gave him, and he looked about him at the 
 model and at old Simon, who stood all the time as grimly 
 and stiffly as his wooden fac-simile, and then turned to the 
 master. 
 
 " I'm not to draw from the life, I know, sir. Free-hand 
 drawing is the thing my uncle says I'm to go in for; or 
 else I've always had an 'idea' there's more in the Chinese 
 notion of painting faces than we give them credit for. 
 They're a wonderful people, you know! and I do think 
 we've no business to laugh at them, as we always do, for 
 not shading their portraits ; Nature doesn't shade hers ! 
 We ain't black on one side and white on the other. The 
 
JOHN MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 245 
 
 same with perspective ; I think we're wrong altogether in 
 our notions about that." 
 
 " Perhaps you'd have us go to the Chinese, then," said 
 his uncle, "and take the willow-pattern plate for our ex- 
 ample in high art. What do you say to that, Mr. Ray ? " 
 
 " I think our young friend, here, will find before he has 
 been long in the school that he has something to learn as 
 well as to teach," said Mr. Ray, good-humoredly. "I 
 don't quite agree with his idea at present — 'tisn't to be ex- 
 pected you know; but if he does develop any with which 1 
 can agree, I shall be very ready to tell him so. When is 
 he to begin? — to-morrow, Mr. Sumner? the sooner the 
 better. I think my new pupil and I shall get on very 
 well." 
 
 "I'm sure of it," said John. "Ted, are you going away 
 to-morrow ? If so, I may as well begin work at once." 
 
 John felt as if he should like Mr. Ray; there didn't 
 seem to be any nonsense about him; and Mr. Ray felt 
 very much inclined to like John. Everybody else did, 
 unless, as in the case of the good people of Studleigh, his 
 ideas had made them rather afraid for their personal safety. 
 He was so good-tempered and open, and, with all his con- 
 fidence in himself, so free from impertinence, or any idea 
 of giving offence, that for a time at least he was sure to 
 win upon everybody. He did so now: all the young 
 ladies, who were several years older than him, took to him 
 at once, so did Mrs. Bligh, the superintendent, who looked 
 after the school in general, and the young ladies in particu- 
 
246 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 lar ; she turned to John directly. " He is come to teach 
 us everything," she said to herself, with a little amusement ; 
 "but I do like the boy for all that." 
 
 Mrs. Knight, who kept the rooms in order, was the only 
 person present, with the exception, perhaps, of Simon Stone, 
 who did not approve of the manner in which John spoke. 
 She was a little woman, with a pale face, and she stood and 
 stared while he talked, opening her eyes to their widest 
 with as much amazement as if he had been talking treason 
 against Church and State. John did not see her — Mrs. 
 Bligh intervening, and she was every way a contrast to 
 her subordinate, looking comfortable and good-tempered 
 enough, as he said afterwards, to be everybody's mother, 
 though she had never had boy or girl of her own ; "she's 
 a good sort," said John to himself; "I shall get on all 
 right with her ; so I shall with the master ; and I like the 
 look of the girls, too, if only they don't hinder one with 
 talking — girls are always such sure hands at that." 
 
 John needn't have troubled himself. The young ladies, 
 as a rule, never entered the school in the hours appropria- 
 ted to the male pupils ; so, unless it was on an occasion like 
 the present, he was not at all likely to see much of them ; 
 but as to talking, it would have been a clever girl, indeed, 
 who could have done much of that when John was in the 
 way. He looked at the model again. " He's a rum-look- 
 ing guy," he said, turning first from Simon to the wooden 
 figure, so that neither could tell to whom the compliment 
 belonged. " I suppose he's dressed like that to save keep- 
 
JOHN MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 247 
 
 ing this old gentleman standing. Not a bad notion, but 
 I've an ' idea ' I could improve upon it." 
 
 " I should like to know whether there is any one thing 
 in the world which you couldn't improve upon," said Mr. 
 Sumner, testily; to which John modestly replied, "Well, 
 I don't think there are a great many." 
 
 " We're open to a hint," said Mr. Ray, good-humoredly. 
 
 ' Well, if you could make him jointed, so that he could 
 move his limbs, and sit down or stand up," said John, who 
 had never even seen anything of the kind before, and did 
 not know all its capabilities. 
 
 " Oh ! it will do all that," said Mr. Ray ; and he made 
 the model extend its arms, sit down and stand up again, 
 and take several attitudes, which, compared with Simon's 
 stiff immovable figure, were perfectly absurd. John open- 
 ed his eyes, and said solemnly, "It's a wonderful thing!" 
 
 " Pooh ! " said Ted, in his loftiest manner ; " it's only a 
 great Dutch doll ! " 
 
 "You don't see its capabilities — you don't see what 
 may be made of it ! " said John, enthusiastically. " Only 
 apply the motive power to that — steam — electricity — let 
 it be what you will, but you make a live man of it at once 
 — a live man who can dig and plough, and make bricks I 
 shouldn't wonder, and build houses, break stones, saw 
 wood, anything but eat ! " 
 
 Then Simon Stone opened his mouth, which he always 
 did as stiffly as if it were pulled by a wire, and said, with- 
 out raising his eyes or looking at anybody in particular : 
 
248 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 "Hey, I alles thout poor folks 'ud be better wi'out stum« 
 micks — t'aint half their time they gets nigh enow to fill 'em 
 with." 
 
 It was as new a thing for Simon Stone to talk as it was 
 for John Ashdell to keep silence. People would hardly 
 have been more surprised if the model had opened its 
 mouth. John, however, was too much interested with his 
 new " idea " to take much notice of him, and as Simon re- 
 lapsed into his customary rigidity — which, if anything, was 
 a little stiffer than the model's — went on : 
 
 " Look at the saving in labor ! look at the endless both- 
 er and worry you get rid of ! Always a man by you that 
 you can set to do anything you like, and when you've done 
 with him just give him a rub down, and put away. I never 
 knew anything like it ! I only wonder people didn't think 
 of it a thousand years ago ; but I suppose they'd no idea of 
 the right motive power — the proper impetus required. I 
 don't myself see quite clearly what that should be, but I 
 know it can be done ; only let me have a little time to think, 
 and I'll master it." 
 
 " I've no doubt you will," said Mr. Sumner, " and every- 
 thing else that you can think of. Don't you think you'd 
 better come away now. I fancy you've astonished these 
 young ladies and Mr. Ray quite enough." 
 
 John looked around him compassionately, as he always 
 did upon people who were not able to appreciate his ideas, 
 and he began to think his great-uncle Sumner was likely 
 to be as unpleasant as his uncle, George Ashdell, in Stud- 
 
JOHN MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 24Q 
 
 leigh ; but he went away, bidding every one present good 
 afternoon with his usual politeness, and as he left the school, 
 Mrs. Bligh sunk on a chair, with her round, good-humored 
 face crimson with the laughter she had been keeping down, 
 almost shrieking out, " That boy will be the death of me, 
 if he comes here, Mr. Ray; the place will be hardly safe 
 with him in it." 
 
 Mr. Ray laughed. " I don't think it's quite as bad as 
 that;" and the young ladies begged Mrs. Bligh to inform 
 them of any fresh ideas that the new pupil might have. 
 They were so impressed by them, that nothing would have 
 pleased them better than for John to have attended the 
 school at the same time as they did, in which case there 
 would not have been much work done ; while Simon Stone, 
 who thought himself very much aggrieved, and looked 
 upon John already as something worse than an incendiary, 
 opened his mouth again to say, " The school 'ud be a sight 
 better wi'out su« h as he — wantin' to starve poor folk, an' 
 make wood an' hon do the work that flesh and blood was 
 sent into the world for." 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ,OHN WALKS OVER TO FELLROW, AND UNFOLDS HIS LAS1 
 "IDEA" TO TED. 
 
 T THINK you've astonished the natives in there," said 
 A Ted to John, when they had left the school. 
 
 " I shall astonish them a deal more before I've done 
 with them," said John. " That idea of mine's a first-rate 
 one. I lay I'll make my fortune by it some day. Only 
 give me time to carry it out in a proper manner. But I 
 ain't quite clear as to the right motive power. I shall want 
 to think about that a little." 
 
 " I must leave you for a little time," said Mr. Sumner, 
 presently. " I have a couple of patients I must see this af- 
 ternoon. I wonder whether you'll be safe to find your way 
 home without any misadventure," he added, looking doubt- 
 fully at John. 
 
 " No, uncle," said he, " don't be afraid ; I could clear it 
 in three skips and a jump. It's not like London — I had an 
 ' idea ' the last time I was there, that if the streets were 
 only rearranged and fresh named after a notion of mine, it 
 would be much easier for people to find their way about 
 than it is now." 
 
JOHN WALKS TO FELLROW. 251 
 
 " I'd write to the Board of Works, if I were you," said 
 his uncle ; " but, however, I hope while you're thinking of 
 the fine things you can do in London you won't lose your 
 way in our little town. I think you had better go back now 
 and rest. I shall be in to tea, and Knaggs will give you a 
 book or two to look at if you want it." 
 
 " All right, sir," said John ; " Ted and I never want any 
 books when we've got one another." 
 
 " Well, I don't suppose you do," said his uncle, looking 
 curiously at him, and then he went his way, and the boys 
 theirs. 
 
 " It's a first-rate idea," said John, who was full of it, as 
 he always was of everything fresh. " Just look what a deal 
 of good you may do it by it, if only properly carried out. 
 All the nasty, dirty, disagreeable work of this world done 
 by man-machines instead of man ; all the going down in 
 mines and the working in pits, the drudging and delving in 
 hail, rain, and snow taken from men who can feel, and done 
 by men who can't. It's the best notion I've ever had, and 
 I've had a few in my time." 
 
 " Yes, you have, and every one has been the best." 
 
 " Never mind, I was working my way to better things. 
 There is something like that in some verses I've read, 
 about folks rising on stepping-stones, I think it was, 
 
 "'Of their dead selves to higher things.' 
 
 I don't know who wrote them. Was it Shakspeare or Tom 
 Hood ? " 
 
252 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 " Tennyson," said Ted, who was better up in the poets 
 than John. 
 
 "Ah, well, they just suit me, my past little mistakes 
 were my stepping-stones ; 'dead selves,' you know, that I've 
 done with now ; and I'm going to do better things. This 
 machine-man, if I can only find the right motive force, will 
 be one of them ! If I succeed in it, I shall be satisfied if 
 it's the only one. I think I shall have done enough then." 
 
 " I think you will," said Ted. 
 
 " Now, don't you go throwing cold water upon it," said 
 John, who didn't quite like Ted's tone. "That's the worst 
 of being an inventor, and before one's time ; commonplace 
 people — at least, I don't mean to say you're commonplace, 
 Ted, for you're rather a clever fellow in your way — but 
 still, those that are commonplace can't understand me, 
 and it's very disheartening, if one's ever so full of faith 
 in one's self. But it was always the way; just look at 
 Galileo—" 
 
 " Well, he didn't try to harness a pig." 
 
 "Would if he'd thought of it, I dare say, but it didn't 
 occur to him ; and Columbus, poor fellow — " 
 
 " He didn't want to fatten a calf upon sawdust." 
 
 " And that man that discovered the circulation of the 
 blood ; I forget his name — " 
 
 "I should say you made a good many people's circu- 
 late pretty quickly when you turned a bear out loose on 
 Studleigh Heath," said Ted. 
 
 John's pleasant, good-humored face became overcast 
 
JOHN WALKS TO FELLROW. 253 
 
 It was not often that he was angry, but he really was so 
 now. "Just you shut up, Ted!" he said shortly; "we 
 don't want a row, but I'm not going to stand any more of 
 that chaff. I don't do that sort of thing with you, and you 
 wouldn't like it yourself if you were me." 
 
 Ted was very sorry he had vexed John. He was so 
 good-tempered and good-hearted, that it really seemed a 
 pity to do so, and, without teasing him any more, he fol- 
 lowed him into Mr. Sumner's shop. Knaggs had left it for 
 a minute, and John was glad of an opportunity of looking 
 round without the chance of his interference. He opened 
 one or two jars and peeped in, he looked at the different 
 pots and boxes on the counter, and at last, espying the gal- 
 vanic machine, cried with sudden exultation, "I've got it!" 
 
 " Got what ? " said Ted. " What's up now ? " 
 
 " The motive force that's to set the machine at work 
 and turn him into a man ! Here you are : this galvanic 
 battery will do it. Just apply that, set him going, up goes 
 his arm, down comes his spade, and there you are ! " 
 
 " That won't do it," said Ted. " A little steam-engine's 
 the thing you want. It's no good just giving the dummy 
 a shock and have done with it ; what you want is to keep 
 him going, and if you keep giving him a succession of 
 shocks, it seems to me you may just as well do the work 
 yourself, as keep turning the handle of this thing." 
 
 "There it is; that's what I want to find out; how 
 to keep giving a succession of shocks without the trouble 
 of turning: the handle of the machine. I know it can be 
 
254 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 done, but of course one's got to find out how. That'll 
 require time and thought. Never mind ; Rome wasn't 
 built in a day. I shall do nothing but study this point 
 as long as I'm here." 
 
 " How about your lesson ? " said Ted. " I thought you 
 were to work up your Latin while you are at the Gram- 
 mar-school." 
 
 " Bother the Latin ! What's that compared to such a 
 discovery as I'm on the point of making? I suppose I 
 must go to that precious school, but it'll only be a waste 
 of time. Much good I shall do there with my head full of 
 this." 
 
 " As far as that goes, I don't see that you will lose 
 much ; I have no great faith in these country schools my- 
 self," said Ted, superciliously. He could never forget the 
 fact that he himself was a pupil of the South Middlesex 
 University. 
 
 Knaggs came into the shop now, and looked angrily at 
 John, who stood by the machine. " I should have thought 
 you had had enough of that," he said ; " perhaps, though, 
 you'd like the dose you had, repeated." 
 
 John moved away, without condescending to answei 
 him ; and Ted and he went into the parlor, which, though 
 it was behind the shop, was as pleasant and pretty 
 a room as any in the town, looking upon a bright little 
 garden, which was always kept in capital order. They sat 
 down by the window, at which the roses came creeping in, 
 and John went on : 
 
JOHN WALKS TO FELLROW. 255 
 
 " That fellow's a nuisance. If he was only out of the. 
 way, so that I could get hold of the thing and see how it 
 worked, I should do. I don't want to go buying one, — 
 I expect they're expensive, — and that Knaggs seems set 
 upon it that I sha'n't get hold of my uncle's. He's a spite 
 against me, that's it ; — chaps like him always have against 
 those that are cleverer than themselves. Never mind, I'll 
 do him ! see if I don't, before long." 
 
 " But I can't see what's the good if you do do him," 
 said Ted. "It isn't a steam-engine, — that's what you 
 want, you know." 
 
 " No, I don't ; let me alone, Ted ; I know what I'm 
 about. Electricity is the motive power I require. I don't 
 believe people half know what there is in electricity, my- 
 self. They think all it's good for is just to play tricks with 
 and make a chap ready to jump out of his skin, just as that 
 Knaggs served me, — mean skunk! It's so great that one 
 can do more with it than one can with steam, I'm con- 
 vinced, and you'll see, by-and-by, when I've time to think 
 matters over, and work them out, whether I'm not in the 
 right of it." 
 
 Ted half believed in John, who believed so fully in him- 
 self; and they sat and talked together a little longer, till 
 Mr. Sumner came home, and they had tea ; after which 
 Ted said it was time for him to go, as his father and 
 mother would have returned from Fellrow, and be wonder- 
 ing what had become of him. 
 
 " I shall write to ycu as soon as I get there, old fellow," 
 
256 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 he said; "and do come over and see me ; and we'll have 
 a bathe and a row, and be as jolly as mud-larks." 
 
 " And I'll tell you how I get on with my new schemes," 
 said John, in a whisper, " if I can only cheat that fellow 
 Knaggs;" and Knaggs not happening to look that way, 
 John shook his fist at him, which was a great relief to his 
 feelings. 
 
 " All right," said Ted ; " tell me all you can about it." 
 Then he took leave of Mr. Sumner and Knaggs, and 
 went his way, and the next morning the omnibus carried 
 him and his father and mother to Fellrow. 
 
 John had two or three days more of idleness, with the 
 exception of one attendance at the School of Art, and 
 during that time he took every opportunity to learn what 
 he could of the galvanic machine. He also asked Mrs. 
 Bligh to let him examine the lay figure, which she did, and 
 was amply rewarded by the many improvements John 
 suggested in it, merely for artistic purposes. He got on 
 pretty well with his drawing, being really, in spite of all 
 his nonsense, a clever boy; and then, he went to the 
 Grammar-school. Here he did not do so well as at the 
 School of Art. There was no Mrs. Bligh to humor him ; 
 and, although he abstained from favoring the masters with 
 any observations as to the improvements he thought they 
 might make in the school routine, the boys whom he 
 honored with his opinions upon that and various other 
 matters teased him unmercifully. He set this all down to 
 their country ignorance ; he certainly had lived in a village 
 
JOHN WALKS TO FELLROW. 257 
 
 nearly all his life, but then it was a village much nearer 
 London than Woodhurst, and he had made so many journeys 
 to the great metropolis that, compared to the Woodhurst 
 boys, he almost felt as if he were a denizen of it. He got 
 1 few cuffs and kicks. The Woodhurst boys were not a 
 bit better than boys in general, and I am sorry to say they 
 were very ready to find an excuse to jostle and ill-treat the 
 new-comer. However, John was pretty well able to hold 
 his own, his hearty country training stood him in good 
 stead, and good-tempered as he was, the boys after a time 
 found it was safest not to go too far with him. And he, 
 finding himself so little appreciated, took refuge in a sullen 
 dignity, keeping aloof from his schoolfellows, and treating 
 them when they came near him with a contempt that was 
 grand to see. 
 
 Of course, he didn't get on very well with his Latin, 
 that was not to be expected when his mind was for ever 
 running upon the lay figure in Mr. Ray's studio, and the 
 galvanic machine, which was to do such wonders with it. 
 He could think of nothing else. He applied himself to 
 his drawing, because it occurred to him that in the event 
 of any improvements or alterations in the machine, it 
 would be much easier to have them effected if he could 
 clearly show upon paper what he wanted, than merely 
 write it down or tell it ; but as to his lessons, he got on so 
 slowly that the masters, who, of course, knew nothing of 
 his real capacity, set him down as the dullest boy in the 
 school. I don't know what they would have thought of 
 17 
 
258 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 him if they had only known one half that was passing 
 through his head all the time he was poring over his 
 Euclid or trying to construe his Virgil. 
 
 Ted kept his word about writing. Fellrow, he said, 
 was very quiet, but a stunning place for bathing, lots of 
 crabs, and a capital beach ; when would John come and see 
 him ? John would have liked to go at once, but there were 
 difficulties in the way. The head-master did not approve 
 of holidays being taken, — he gave one himself the first 
 Monday in every month ; and John's uncle said he must 
 wait for that. John consoled himself, — it would give him 
 more time to develop his ideas, so that he could unfold 
 them fully to Ted, and ask for his assistance in carrying 
 them out ; and so he went on, as I have said, till Ted had 
 been three weeks at Fellrow, when at last he was free to 
 walk over to that quiet little watering-place to see him. 
 
 He got up early — he was so anxious to see Ted — he 
 had so much to tell him. He came down the stairs, and 
 went through the shop without being heard by Knaggs. 
 As he opened the door, the light fell on the galvanic 
 machine, which Knaggs had placed on a high shelf out of 
 reach. John looked at it longingly — " I'll get you down 
 some day — that precious dog in a manger sha'n't keep you 
 from me for ever." 
 
 Then he went on his way through the little town, which 
 was waking up to life and getting ready for its day's 
 work, and out into the quiet country road which led to 
 Fellrow. He had had no breakfast, but the blackberries 
 
JOHN WALKS TO FELLROW. 259 
 
 were ripening on the hedges, and now and then he stopr. ted 
 and gathered them. He saw, as he walked on, the farm 
 men going to their labor, looking, so many of them, bent 
 with toil, and aged and furrowed before their time, and he 
 felt full of a new pity for them. He was a good boy, after 
 all, though a foolish one. I think if there had not been some 
 real sound sterling goodness underlying all John's Ashdell's 
 absurdities, people would never have liked him as they did. 
 " My machine will do something for these poor fellows," 
 he said. " When that comes out, there'll be no working 
 twelve hours a-day for a couple of shillings. That'll do all 
 the rough, dirty, hard work there is to do, and leave them 
 only to guide it, and look on, if they like, with their hands 
 in their pockets." 
 
 John didn't ask himself what was to become of all the 
 surplus laborers whom his machine would drive out of the 
 field, or think that a farmer would scarcely care to pay 
 them just to stand and look on with their hands in their 
 pockets ; — such considerations would have been beyond 
 him, but he went on all the more cheerfully for the thought 
 that had just occurred to him, and when he was about 
 half-way to Fellrow, he saw Ted, who had come out to 
 meet him. 
 
 He was sauntering along with his hands in his pockets, 
 looking just as dandified and supercilious as ever, — a little 
 browner, and with clothes a little shabbier, for the sea-side 
 does wear out things terribly, but still just his clever, lan« 
 guid, gentlemanly self. 
 
26o THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 "What a swell he always does look!" said JohL to him 
 self; "but, dear me, if my machine answers, everybody 
 will be a swell too. I do wonder it's never been tried — tc 
 think of man, that calls himself the lord of the creation, 
 drudging and delving as he's done, when all the time he 
 might get a wooden dummy to do it for him ! " 
 
 Ted was very glad to see John, and showed it as much 
 as he ever showed any emotion. " It's a treat to have 
 some one to talk to," he said, in his grand way. " I don't 
 think much of the people at Fellrow — how are you getting 
 on with the natives at Woodhurst ? " 
 
 " Pretty well," said John. " I don't like the school — " 
 
 " Pack of cads, I suppose," said Ted ; " country fellows 
 always are. I should say you'd learn Latin with a strong, 
 Eastshire dialect. One of our masters at the South Mid 
 dlesex would have it we ought to sound it as the Italians 
 did. I didn't agree with him myself. I like the English 
 accent best, but I don't think I should like the Wood- 
 hurst brogue. You'll pick it up to a certainty, if you don't 
 mind, Ashdell." 
 
 "Oh ! I haven't bothered my head much about Latin," 
 said John ; " it's precious little of that I shall pick up one 
 way or another. I've been thinking ever since you left me 
 of that 'idea' of mine. What shall I call it? — I know 
 there's a name for any new invention that's to do wonderful 
 things, and is something quite fresh and original. Let's see 
 — is not it Hegira ? " 
 
 " Eureka, you mean," said Ted. " Ah ! I thought you'd 
 
 
JOHN WALKS TO FELLROW. 261 
 
 have had some fresh notion by this time. Well, let's hear 
 how you're getting on with it." 
 
 " Well, I'm not getting on with it at all, beyond think- 
 ing matters over. But I see my way now, if I can only get 
 hold of that machine ; and I shall want you to help me, 
 Ted, when I do. I've settled everything; I've altered 
 some of my notions from what they were just at first. You 
 see I'm not above taking a hint or two from any one, and 
 I feel that I can't get the full motive power I want with- 
 out steam. Not steam altogether, but a combination of 
 steam and electricity. Now the first thing is to get the 
 steam-engine ; — it's a pity I spoiled the one my uncle gave 
 me." 
 
 " Yes, it is," said Ted ; " a new one will cost a good- 
 ish bit." 
 
 " Well, yes, a new one would take a sight of tin, but 
 I'm going to do it on the cheap. There's a fellow in our 
 school's got a second-hand one ; it's little, but a good one 
 to go, and it's quite big enough to make an experiment 
 with. Of course, I must experiment on a small scale ; — 
 that galvanic machine of my uncle's will be nothing, you 
 know, when I come to carry things out ; but that and the 
 little steam-engine will do very well to begin with. Well, 
 I'm going to buy this engine of Pratt ; I have been saving 
 up my money ever since I have been down ; Pratt's going 
 to let me have it for five shillings and a peck of apples 
 Uncle gives me apples every day after dinner, and I put 
 them in my dirty-clothes' bag to save for him. They're 
 
262 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 not a keeping sort, and some of them are going to squash, 
 but I don't see that Pratt's any business to mind that. A 
 peck's a peck, you know, if you only get it full. Well, I 
 get the steam-engine ; I connect it with the galvanic 
 battery; I place my wooden model under the joint in- 
 fluence of both ; when it begins to act — of course not 
 regularly or usefully at first, but still it does act. There's 
 that great point settled, and I only want time and ample 
 materials which of course my uncle or anybody — say the 
 public in general — the Mayor of the town, they say he's a 
 brick and got lots of tin, — or the Government, but I don't 
 think Government is ever liberal to inventors ; but anyhow, 
 somebody or other is sure to come forward and help us, 
 when once the thing's known, to make our fortunes, and 
 immortalize ourselves. No, Ted, when you and I are 
 gone, they'll put us in a Biographical Dictionary and 
 Westminster Abbey ! " 
 
 "Me!" said Ted; "what have I got to do with 
 it?" 
 
 " Oh, but you will have, you know ; if you are going to 
 help me, and of course you are, I shall let you go shares 
 with me. The thing is, can you come over for a day and 
 night to Woodhurst ? I must try my experiment at night, 
 when every one's out of the way, you see ; perhaps Mr. Ray 
 wouldn't mind, but then people are sure to interfere and 
 make remarks. I did think at one time Mrs. Bligh would 
 have helped me, but the worst of her is, you never can tell 
 when she's in jest or in earnest; so what is to be done 
 
JOHN WALKS TO FELLROW. 263 
 
 had better be done between only you and me, then we 
 shall have all the glory and all the profit." 
 
 " All right," said Ted, "if I can get over I will ; but if 
 that Knaggs keeps his eye so on the machine, how will 
 you get hold of that ? " 
 
 Knaggs is going to have a half-holiday next Wednes- 
 day week, — a half-holiday, and sleep out, and come home 
 by the early train in the morning. He's going to see his 
 grandmother, who lives ten miles off, and he's to get all 
 his stuff — pills, and powders, and the whole — made up be- 
 fore he goes, and I'm to mind shop in the afternoon." 
 
 "It's to be hoped nobody will be coming to you to 
 make up pills or powders," said Ted, "or there'll be a cor- 
 oner's inquest." 
 
 " There you go, Ted ! Now I didn't expect that of you. 
 I don't think it's right by a friend who's going to do the 
 handsome by you, and let you go shares with him in his 
 new invention. That's the worst of you, Ted; you're a 
 clever fellow, but you never seem to think that anybody's 
 got any brains but yourself." 
 
 " Oh ! you've got brains," said Ted ; " I never disputed 
 that, only the worst of it is, you don't always know how to 
 make good use of them. However, let's hear what you're 
 going to dc when Knaggs has his half-holiday. Do you 
 want me to come and help you to mind shop?" 
 
 "Yes, I asked my uncle if you might, and he said yes. 
 Knaggs don't like my being there at all. That fellow's got 
 a regular spite against me. I think that if it wasn't that 
 
264 THE B0Y WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 uncle told him that he ought to go and see the old lady 
 he'd rather lose his holiday than I should be in that shop 
 Uncle don't seem to mind him. He says there's nothing I 
 can do much harm with unless I try experiments on myself, 
 and if I like to see how jalap and rhubarb go together with 
 a dose of asafoetida for flavoring, I'm welcome ; anyhow, he 
 says it's hard if I cannot serve a pena'orth of castor-oil or 
 a packet of violet powder without making a mess of it. 
 I've been enough in the shop to learn as much as that ; so 
 Knaggs is to have his holiday, and I wish him joy of it ! 
 Then you come over in the morning, and after dinner we 
 shall have a quiet time of it to ourselves. Uncle will be 
 in and out, or in the back-parlor reading, but that won't 
 matter, — Knaggs will be out of the way, and there's one 
 comfort, he can neither lock up the galvanic battery nor 
 take it with him." 
 
 " And how will you get it to the school, and do all the 
 rest of it ? " asked Ted. 
 
 " I'll tell you all about that by-and-by. Is not this Fell- 
 row just before us? Let's talk of something else now, 
 and when we've had some breakfast, we'll look out for a 
 nice place on the beach, where there's nobody within hear- 
 ing, or at any rate where we can see them if they come too 
 near, and then I'll tell you what I think about doing." 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 JOHN MATURES HIS SCHEME. HOW THE COAL-HOLE HAS 
 A COOLING EFFECT UPON TED. 
 
 JOHN had a nice day of it at Fellrow. He bathed, 
 threw stones in the water, saw what little — and it was 
 very little — there was to be seen in the place, sauntered on 
 the beach, climbed up the rocks in the distance, then 
 came down and saw the people picking up coprolites for 
 manure. Of course he had something to say about this, 
 and made more than one of the ragged boys who heard 
 him open their eyes at the extent of his knowledge and the 
 long words he used ; and, above all, he told Ted how he 
 meant to carry out his experiment on the eventful night 
 when Knaggs would be absent from Woodhurst. As this 
 will be unfolded in due course, there is no occasion to 
 dwell upon it here ; it is enough to say that Ted agreed to 
 do what he could to help on the plan, and that his parents 
 gave him permission to pay John a visit on the Wednesday 
 week, and spend the night in Woodhurst. Ted was very 
 ready to go. He had not much faith in John succeeding 
 in the experiment, or that he should ever make his fortune, 
 
266 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 or win a place in Westminster Abbey at his death by 
 helping him ; but he thought it would be a spree, and 
 Fellrow was just dull enough to make him feel quite 
 ready for anything of the kind. 
 
 John rode home on the top of the omnibus. He would 
 have walked to Woodhurst as well as from it, if he could 
 have had his own way, for he was anxious to save all the 
 money he could for his great experiment ; but his uncle 
 would not hear of this, and had given him a shilling for the 
 purpose. There was only room on the roof, but that 
 suited John all the better. He could look about him, 
 and talk to the coachman, which he did, giving that 
 worthy several hints as to the best mode of handling the 
 reins and feeding his horses. He was thoroughly tired out 
 by the time they got to Woodhurst, and glad to get to bed 
 at once ; and the next morning he awoke all the better for 
 his breath of sea air, and in excellent spirits at the idea of 
 his promised assistance. 
 
 He thought the time would never come to an end, 
 between that day and Wednesday-week. At first he 
 thought of counting the hours and notching them on a 
 stick, that he might see how many he had got through ; 
 but contented himself with tying a handkerchief into 
 knots, and undoing one on the morning of every inter- 
 vening day. He had plenty to do in the mean time — a 
 great deal too much, to think of his Latin or his other 
 scholastic duties. He went to the School of Art three 
 times a week. Mr. Ray was always there, so was Mrs, 
 
JOHN MATURES HIS SCHEME. 267 
 
 Bligh ; but after the first, that lady refused to let him 
 have anything to do with the lay figure — "You'll be 
 making it go upon wheels, or jerk it with strings," she 
 said ; " and we're quite content with it as it is." 
 
 The figure still wore Simon's dress. Mr. Ray was 
 anxious to make a finished full-length likeness of the old 
 man, and the school taking up so much of his time, he did 
 not make very rapid progress with the painting. So the 
 basket and spade still remained, and the figure itself 
 looked exactly as it did the first time John saw it. 
 
 Simon himself was frequently about the school now, 
 though just at present not required as a model. Mrs. 
 Knight was in the habit of employing a girl to do the 
 drudgery of the school-room under her directions, and the 
 last girl having been worse than any of her predecessors — 
 and, according to Mrs. Knight, they had all been bad 
 enough — Mrs. Bligh, who knew Simon was in need of 
 work, suggested that he might sweep out the rooms and 
 clean the windows in his spare time, till a suitable damsel 
 could be found. Mrs. Knight engaged him for the pur- 
 pose, and, accordingly, Simon's tall, gaunt figure, looking 
 exactly like the one in the studio come to life, was to be 
 seen pretty often by the students. He never spoke to any 
 of them — hardly ever to Mrs. Knight. He brightened up 
 a little when Mrs. Bligh bade him good-morning or good- 
 night, and uttered some sounds from the depths of his 
 throat, that might be supposed to be in answer. But 
 John always thought that when he had made his modei 
 
268 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 move, and go about the different avocations that Simon 
 now performed, it could scarcely do them more like clock- 
 work than Simon himself did. He hardly went to the 
 school to draw at these last few lessons, though he sat 
 with a pencil in his hand and his paper before him. He 
 was absorbed in calculations and plans, and intently em- 
 ployed in taking note of everything around him, with a 
 view to the carrying out of his experiment on that eventful 
 day, which seemed as if it would never come. 
 
 It did come at last, though, and Ted with it early 
 in the morning. He had followed John's example, and 
 walked over; he would have preferred riding, but the om- 
 nibus did not leave Fellrow for Woodhurst till ten o'clock, 
 and Ted was impatient to hear how John was going 
 on. Therefore, after an early breakfast (Ted couldn't get 
 up in time to start without his, as John had done), he had 
 started off, and a little after eleven was in Mr. Sumner's 
 shop, asking Knaggs — who was diligently pounding away 
 — where Ashdell was. 
 
 "Not home from school yet," was the answer; "and as 
 likely as not, won't be till one. He's been kept in every 
 other day regular, lately," he added, with a delight that 
 struck Ted as almost vicious. "You can go in the parlor 
 and rest, if you like, and there's the Eastshirc Mercury 
 to look at." 
 
 " I don't care for a country paper," said Ted, loftily ; 
 "haven't you got the Times?" 
 
 Knaggs said " No," and went on with his pounding 
 
yOHN MATURES HIS SCHEME. 269 
 
 He seemed disinclined to talk, or Ted would liked to have 
 practised a few of his grand airs upon him. As there was 
 nothing else to be done, he went into the parlor, and tried 
 to get what amusement he could from the pages of the 
 Eastshire Mercury. But as it was not more interesting than 
 country papers generally are, and Ted had had an unusually 
 long walk, it is not to be wondered at if he fell asleep, and 
 did not wake till John came rushing in. 
 
 "Here you are, old fellow! Had such a narrow escape 
 from being kept in; precious glad I wasn't, though, as 
 you're here. Has that Knaggs given you any grub? Of 
 course he hasn't ; he spites me, and spites my friends. What 
 will you have? We dine at one o'clock, but won't you 
 have some bread and cheese, and then come out for a 
 turn ? " 
 
 " No, thank you," said Ted ; " I'm tired — I walked, and 
 I might just as well have ridden, for I didn't think of your 
 not being out of school before twelve. Well, how are 
 things looking — got the steam-engine ? " 
 
 " Hu-u-sh ! " said John, looking fearfully in the direc- 
 tion of Knaggs. " If he has any idea what's up, he'll lose 
 his holiday, if he has to sham ill to do it. Come in my 
 room, and you'll see." 
 
 He took Ted to his own apartment, and unlocking his 
 box, brought out a small brass steam-engine, of the kind 
 that schoolboys delight in ; then he set it working, which 
 it did very well. " I only got it yesterday," he said, 
 " Pratt found fault with some of the apples, but there were 
 
270 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 a few over the peck, so I gave him those in. Here's the 
 wire that's to connect it with the galvanic battery ; so if 1 
 can only get hold of that, and carry it to the figure, I shall 
 do. There's no evening school to-night, so we're likely to 
 have the coast clear." 
 
 He had got everything in readiness — a dark lantern, 
 which his uncle sometimes used when he went out in the 
 evening, and a coil of rope. 
 
 "What do you want that for ? " said Ted. " This looks 
 uncommonly like housebreaking, you know. I thought 
 the window we were to get in at was too near the ground 
 for us to need anything of the kind." 
 
 " Ah! that's the window I first thought of, but it won't do. 
 You see when I came to Fellrow I had only examined the 
 inside of the school ; since then I've been able to look round 
 the outside, and I find we shouldn't be able to get to any 
 of the large windows without being perceived. Now there's 
 one at the back — a little one, and we shall have to squeeze, 
 but we're neither of us very stout, and I know it's never 
 fastened, and opens right into the studio. Now we can 
 get through that without any one noticing us. Just below 
 is a place that I suppose we may call a coal-hole, only it 
 ■sn't a hole, just a yard where the coals are kept. Well, 
 the wall of that is not high, and it's at the end of a court 
 where there's nothing but the blank walls of warehouses 
 on either side, so no one will see us climb over that. Well, 
 we get into the coal-hole — " 
 
 "Blow the coal-hole !" cried Ted. "You never told 
 
JOHN MATURES HIS SCHEME. 27 J 
 
 me anything of that. What a precious mess I shall get 
 into, and look at my light trousers ? " 
 
 " What's trousers when one's on the eve of a great dis- 
 covery ! " said John ; " for, Ted, if we only make this an- 
 swer, won't you be able to buy dozens of pairs, and have 
 them made by the Prince of Wales's tailor ? " 
 
 "That's all very fine," answered Ted; "but if it doesn't 
 answer, my trousers are done for, and I shall get into no 
 end of a row. Besides, I shouldn't like walking back into 
 Fellrow looking like a coal-heaver." 
 
 " I'll lend you an old pair of mine," said John, "and 
 wear my own black ones. Now, let me go on : we shall 
 leave this soon after eight ; the man shuts up the shop then ; 
 and uncle said you and I might go out for a stroll. We 
 smuggle out the battery done up in brown paper ; it'll be 
 dusky by that time ; besides, I'm not too proud to carry a 
 parcel. We get over the wall and into the coal-hole ; then 
 we pile the coals up as high as we can — " 
 
 " I suppose you've got an old pair of gloves to lend a 
 fellow?" said Ted, looking rather woefully at his hands. 
 He didn't quite like the adventure into which John was 
 leading him, as well as he had thought he should ; there 
 had been nothing said about the coal-hole that day at 
 Fellrow. John nodded, and went on : 
 
 " Then there's this rope ; you see I've made a noose. 
 Well, there's an iron arm runs out from the school-house, 
 just by the window ; it held a lamp once, but they thought 
 it wasn't needed — they're precious stingy here with the 
 
272 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 gas ; all the better for us. We throw the noose round it, 
 in case the coals don't lift us high enough, pull ourselves 
 up by the rope, get through the window, and there we are ! 
 there's the machine we're to make into a man ! there's the 
 motive force with us that's to galvanize it into life ! No- 
 body in town has the least idea what we're about ; and 
 when we come back to supper, we shall be able to tell 
 my uncle that we've made an experiment which is to 
 bring us in thousands ! I say, won't he open his eyes ! 
 He ought to stand champagne ; and my opinion is, the 
 least the town can do is to erect us statues in the market- 
 place." 
 
 " Isn't there any one to take care of the rooms ? " asked 
 Ted. " I thought there was a Mrs. Knight who lived 
 there?" 
 
 "She's up at the top somewhere," said John; "all the 
 rooms below are given up to the school." In this Master 
 John was wrong, Mrs. Knight having a very cosy little 
 sitting-room on the ground-floor, opening right out of the 
 larger one appropriated to the students. " She won't hear 
 anything of us, come in," he continued ; we shall have 
 the place all to ourselves, and nobody any the wiser." 
 
 They were now summoned to dinner, where Knaggs 
 sat, eating as much and saying as little as usual. Direct- 
 ly after, he went to dress, and came down presently, look- 
 ing as Johi. said, as much like a swell as he knew how, 
 and, with a little ostentation, gave several keys to Mr. 
 Sumner. " I've locked up all I can, sir," he said ; " so, if 
 
JOHN MATURES HIS SCHEME. 273 
 
 murder's done before I come back, I'm not responsible." 
 Then he went away, leaving John and Ted masters of the 
 situation. 
 
 Mr. Sumner was not very much afraid of leaving thera 
 in the shop. By this time he had begun to understand 
 John better, and to like him more than he had at first 
 thought he could ever do. He had charged John not to 
 open any of the drawers, nor to attempt, if any one came 
 in for medicine, to sell them any but what was ready made 
 and labelled ; and he was not afraid that John would 
 disobey him. As to the galvanic battery, he had never 
 given that a thought ; if he had, he would have only said 
 that if John meddled with it he would be punished for 
 meddling, and therefore he went on his short afternoon 
 round without any misgivings. Not many people came 
 into the shop, but these John served with a gravity that 
 was grand to see. As Ted told him, he would make 
 a capital doctor, by-and-by, if looks went for anything ; 
 and the afternoon and evening passed on till eight 
 o'clock came round, and Mr. Sumner told Black to put 
 up the shutters, and advised Ted and John to go out for 
 a stroll. 
 
 He went out himself, as he generally did of an evening, 
 to the reading-room ; and, as soon as Black was out of the 
 way, Ted and John began to get ready to go too. The 
 little steam-engine and other matters were already packed 
 up, and by standing on the shop shelves they were able to 
 reach the battery, and then, wrapping that up in brown 
 
274 THE B0Y WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 paper, John put his treasure carefully under his arm, and 
 the two walked out, and in a very few minutes were in the 
 court-yard, under the small window that opened into Mr. 
 Ray's studio. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 HOW JOHN AND TED WERE ELECTRIFIED INSTEAD OF 
 ELECTRIFYING. 
 
 OIMON STONE was busy that evening in the School 
 ^ of Art. He had been at work in a gentleman's garden 
 all day, and, having been home to tea, had now come round 
 to sweep out the school, ready for the next morning. Si- 
 mon rather liked this employment. He went to work 
 much as if he had been sweeping gravel paths, and the bits 
 of paper scattered on the floor were so many dead leaves. 
 The room was very dusty to-night, and Simon opened one 
 of the large windows at the side on that account. It was 
 growing dusk, so he lit the gas that he might see what he 
 was about, and went on steadily doing his work, better, 
 it must be owned, than any of the girls whom Mrs. 
 Knight employed had ever performed it. 
 
 As I have said before, there were three large windows 
 on one side of the schoolroom, and these were the only 
 light k had, with the exception of the small window in 
 Mr. Ray's studio ; but that, you will notice, was parted off 
 from the larger room. Through these windows you could 
 
276 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 see the workroom of Mrs. Vesey, the best dressmaker in 
 the town. She employed a great many girls, and some- 
 times — not often — they were kept at work rather late, so 
 that John could look up from his drawing and watch them, 
 The workroom was lit by a range of windows, and, of 
 course, when the light was failing, the girls drew near these 
 windows. One, in particular, had a sewing-machine. 
 John never saw her employed at that without thinking how 
 he could improve it, and resolving, when he had perfected 
 his machine-man, to try what he could do with a machine- 
 needlewoman, who should do as much work as a dozen 
 machines put together. 
 
 The roof of the workroom, which was on the first floor, 
 was red-tiled, and, rising from a gutter, sloped upwards to 
 a ridge in the centre. At the end of the room was a smaller 
 apartment, occupied by Mrs. Vesey herself; and, as she 
 kept here the dresses which were not yet commenced, 
 along with ribbons, lace, or trimmings, she always locked 
 it up at night when work was over. 
 
 The whole building was old, and so, indeed, was the 
 School of Art, which had been originally the assembly- 
 rooms, where the county balls were held ; but they didn't 
 hold county balls in the town now, and the owner of the 
 rooms — a well-to-do brewer — found he could get a better 
 rent for them by letting them to the town for a school, 
 which hurt Mrs. Vesey's trade, and, she said, showed a 
 great want of public spirit. However, that didn't trouble 
 the brewer — -perhaps his dancing-days were over ; but, aa 
 
JOHN AND TED ELECTRIFIED. 277 
 
 the school building showed evident signs of not being so 
 strong as it had been, he shored up the walls on either side, 
 and, between Mrs. Vesey's workroom and the school, great 
 beams were placed, at the joint expense of himself and her 
 landlord, so that the two old buildings helped to keep up 
 each other — just as a couple of elderly people might do, 
 who would both get on the better for taking care of one 
 another. 
 
 Simon swept on, and presently he came to a sheet of 
 paper, near the place where John always sat to draw, and, 
 picking it up, saw a very fair likeness of himself, with 
 something which Simon set down as a trap fastened to his 
 foot. " That thar young chap has done it that's allers got 
 so much tew say, an' thinks no folks i' the world had brains 
 before he cum into it. I s'pose that's how he'd keep work- 
 in' people held fast, so as they shouldn't go about as quick 
 as their betters. He's a good un, he is ; I on'y wish I wor 
 his marster — I lay I'd teach him a thing or tew." 
 
 Simon could never forgive John's wishing to supersede 
 men by machinery. The prejudice has always been com- 
 mon enough amongst those of Simon's class, though it was 
 rather hard that John should have called it up, as his in- 
 tentions were at least kind ones. The old man went on 
 with his sweeping in the same manner as before, but pres- 
 ently desisted when he heard a murmur of female voices 
 and laughter at the outer door. 
 
 " It's Mrs. Bligh, I lay," he said ; " she's a rare jolly un. 
 What's brought her here? An' thar's a pack o' gals with 
 
278 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 her, a-chatterin' an' buzzin' like so many bees, on'y all the 
 work they do is playin'." Simon had a great dislike to girla 
 — he liked them rather worse than he did boys, and, as he 
 opened the door, he was not at all pleased to see several 
 young ladies with Mrs. Bligh. 
 
 They had been out all the afternoon sketching, then 
 had gone in and taken tea at the house of one of the pu- 
 pils, and now had come to leave their drawing-boards at 
 the school. It was beginning to rain a little, so Mrs. Bligh 
 suggested that they should all go into Mrs. Knight's room 
 and wait, after which she would take them to their different 
 homes. They all came in, laughing and talking, till Si- 
 mon's grim, sour face looked sourer and grimmer than ever, 
 and swept past him into Mrs. Knight's little room, leaving 
 him to go on with his sweeping. 
 
 Simon was disgusted at the noise they made. One of 
 them in walking past had scattered the little dust-heap he 
 had swept together. " It's no use goin' on with a pack o' 
 whirligigs flyin' about like that," said Simon ; " I'll go into 
 Mr. Ray's room, an' see if I can be let in peace there." 
 
 So he did — lowering the gas in the large room, for he 
 was a careful creature, and not lighting it in the smaller 
 one directly, as voices outside struck on his ear, and he 
 listened attentively. 
 
 " It's precious cold waiting here," was the first he heard, 
 "and it's beginning to rain. I say, be quick, and shy up 
 the rope, and let's get in." It was Ted who spoke, and 
 Simon, not knowing the voice, set it down as a burglar's. 
 
JOHN AND TED ELECTRIFIED. 279 
 
 There was very little in the school to steal — no robbers 
 could do very much with casts or drawing-boards ; but Si- 
 mon did not think of that — all he did think of was how to 
 trap the thieves, and, to use his own expression, " sarve 
 them out." 
 
 How thankful he was that he had not lit the gas, sc 
 that the parties outside might have no indication of hif 
 presence. It was still light enough for him to see the po- 
 sition of things ; and as his eye fell on the wooden figure — 
 such a strange, stiff likeness of himself — a smile, such a? 
 had not shone on Simon's face for years, lit it up now 
 About a couple of feet from this figure was a large, ola 
 screen, behind which was stowed away a heap of miscella- 
 neous lumber. Simon was strong and wiry, if old, and he 
 lifted the wooden resemblance of himself behind this screen, 
 and then took his place on the platform in precisely the 
 same attitude that he had occupied. The basket and spade 
 were by him ; he pulled his shaggy, grey hair over his fore- 
 head, tilted his hat forward, and there he was — to all ap- 
 pearance the lay-figure dressed up in his own old clothes. 
 
 " They'll know thats here," he thought. " When folks 
 come to break into a place, I reckon they pretty well know 
 what they've got tew expect. I wonder if they'd any notion 
 of running away with it. If they dew try that on, they'll 
 find they've got a troublesome customer." 
 
 From behind the screen he had brought forward a large 
 stick, which belonged to Mr. Ray. This he dropped at his 
 feet ; " Ready, if it's wanted," he said to himself, and then 
 
280 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 remained grim and immovable as if he were wood 
 indeed. 
 
 There was more whispering outside, then a shadow 
 thrown against the glass, as some one seemed raising him- 
 self against the wall ; then the long narrow window was 
 pushed up, with some difficulty apparently, for he heard a 
 voice that this time he recognized, crying out, " It's precious 
 hard to get in. Now, mind how you hand up the things 
 when once I'm on the window-ledge." 
 
 " Marster Ashdell," said Simon to himself; " what wick- 
 edness is he arter now ? His fine talk an' his plannin' and 
 schemin' seems tew hev brought him to summut." 
 
 Presently John was on the window-ledge. Simon's head 
 was turned from it just as the lay figure's had been, so that 
 he could see nothing of his movements ; he could hear them, 
 however — he seemed to be pulling up something, and Simon 
 greatly wondered what it could be. He could hardly sus- 
 pect him of stealing, but made up his mind he was bent on 
 some wickedness or other, for which, if possible, he would 
 punish him. Presently John dropped on the ground inside, 
 and somebody else appeared to be at the window, and after- 
 wards dropped too. 
 
 " I hope we haven't hurt them," said John, speaking of 
 the battery and the steam-engine as tenderly as if they 
 were live things. Then he stooped down and appeared to 
 examine something. 
 
 The rain was leaving off, and the moon shone full into 
 the room with a pale, watery light, but still sufficient to 
 
JOHN AND TED ELECTRIFIED. 28 1 
 
 guide John in his operations. " We sha'n't want a light, '" 
 he said, " which is lucky, — it might show through the win- 
 dow. Get the matches handy ; I won't set the spirits going 
 till I've got everything placed ready." 
 
 " They've come here tew hev a bout o' drinkin'," said 
 Simon to himself. " Tew think of a boy like that thar goin' 
 in for anythin' of the kind. I wonder if it's gin he's brought 
 with him. Whatever it is, I lay it'll do me a sight more 
 good nor it will him." 
 
 He kept as still as ever, never turning his head, though 
 he was longing to see what bottles had been brought. 
 Presently he heard the clinking of glass and the clatter 
 of metal, as John poured the spirits of wine into his engine. 
 "They're goin' tew hev a reg'lar good supper! They've 
 never come by it honestly, or they wouldn't get in here to 
 sat it. The tarnation little vagabones ! I wonder now 
 what it is they've bin layin' hold on." 
 
 Simon's mouth watered, but he never moved. Pres- 
 ently John came near him, followed by his friend. Simon 
 hoped they were going to spread their banquet at his feet ; 
 they were carrying something, but, without lowering his 
 head, he could not see what. Presently Ted said — " Now 
 for your Frankenstein, John." 
 
 " That's a new kind of meat," thought Simon ; " I never 
 heerd tell on that afore. I hope it's good." 
 
 " Don't talk," said John ; " I feel so dreadfully excited." 
 
 " Never mind, we shall soon see whether or not you're 
 to be another Prometheus. Have you got everything you 
 
282 THE BOY WITH- AN IDEA. 
 
 want? Now, I suppose I'd better leave you to put the fin 
 ishing touches yourself." 
 
 "Yes, please," said John, in a voice that fairly quivered 
 with emotion. " I'd rather be left all to myself now. Oh 
 Ted, if it should do!" 
 
 " Seems in a hurry for his supper," thought Simon. 
 " Thar'll be more tew eat on it than he reckons on." 
 
 John went to work with trembling hands. Ted sat on 
 a low stool at a little distance, watching him. " I wonder 
 if he'll make the dummy move at all," he thought. " Sup- 
 pose it should, after all. Something might come of it, 
 though not so much as Ashdell expects." 
 
 The steam-engine turned and fizzed, and at last moved 
 the handle of the battery. " He's a cookin' somethin'," 
 thought Simon, longing to see what it all was at his feet. 
 John's heart leaped within him. " That's all right, so far. 
 Now to connect the battery with the figure ; " and then he 
 began to attach a wire that he had wound round the gal- 
 vanic machine around the leg of the figure before him. 
 
 That was too much ! In an instant the figure seemed 
 endowed with life. It had seized him by the collar of his 
 jacket, and was beating him with the regularity of clock 
 work, and with a force that spoke wonders for the effect of 
 the galvanic machine. It had a stick in its hand, and it 
 laid that stick on with, as John thought, ten-men power — 
 as if it were threshing wheat, or knocking the dust out of a 
 carpet, instead of beating a boy. John shrieked, partlv 
 with pain, but far more with terror. Had he only called 
 
JOHN AND TED ELECTRIFIED. 283 
 
 this dreadful thing to life to be murdered by it ! Would it 
 never leave off! Couldn't it be made to feel that it was 
 not endowed with the power of movement merely to de- 
 stroy its creator ! He called on Ted to help him, but Ted 
 sat mute and almost paralyzed with fear. He wished he 
 had not made that joke about Frankenstein ; he wished he 
 had never meddled at all in this matter — there was some- 
 thing wrong here. John had been presumptuous, and inter- 
 fered with things that he had no right to meddle with, and 
 this was how he was being punished. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! oh ! let me go ! let me go ! I'll never try to 
 make anything come to life again. Oh ! oh ! Ted can't 
 you pull the galvanic battery away, or stop the steam- 
 engine ! " cried John, who firmly believed that his experi- 
 ment had only been too successful. " I shall be killed 
 outright, if you don't." 
 
 " I'm afraid to move — I'm afraid to lay a finger on it ! * 
 cried Ted. "As like as not it'll tear me to pieces ! " 
 
 " Oh ! you coward, Ted ! You don't care about it tear- 
 ing me! I shall be smashed into a jelly! — I'm sore all 
 over ! Oh, Ted ! if you'd got into such a mess as this, I'd 
 have stood by you ! " cried John. 
 
 So he would. Ted felt sure of that, and he nerved him- 
 self to attempt his friend's rescue. To do him justice, if, 
 like John, he had imagined that it was nothing but a ma- 
 chine with which he had to deal, he would have kicked the 
 battery on one side, and wrested his friend from the clutch 
 of the lay figure. But Ted was a little superstitious and 
 
284 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 imaginative, and he felt there was something "uncanny, "as 
 the Scotch say, in the whole affair. The cold, watery mcon- 
 Jight, the casts and sketches around, the stillness of the 
 deserted studio, only broken by John's cries and the 
 measured " thud ! thud ! " of the stick, all added to this 
 impression. But he mastered his fears enough to step for- 
 ward and try to pull John from the grasp of the grim ghost 
 that he had raised. 
 
 In doing so, without meaning it, he kicked the engine 
 and the machine on one side. John heard the movement, 
 and gasped out, "Now, perhaps, he'll leave off!" which 
 Simon did, standing stiff and rigid as the lay figure itself, 
 for Mrs. Bligh and her party of demoiselles had entered 
 the studio, and Simon saw them, which the two unhappy 
 boys at first did not. 
 
 The girls were almost as much frightened at first as 
 Ted and John. Was it really the lay figure that was mak- 
 ing the boy it held like a vice shriek so fearfully ? Mrs. 
 Bligh was not frightened at all — she guessed, directly, the 
 trick Simon had played, and rather enjoyed it, though she 
 did not recognize John's voice, never having heard it under 
 similar circumstances before. She imagined a couple of 
 lads had been breaking in with the intention of helping 
 themselves to anything portable they could find in the 
 school that might be worth taking, and that Simon had 
 caught and punished them, and she quite approved of his 
 doing so. She thought they had been nearly punished 
 enough, but she could not help giving them a further 
 
yOHN AND TED ELECTRIFIED. 285 
 
 fright, and therefore she said, in very distinct tones — "I 
 think now we have only got to send for the policeman, 
 and give these young men in charge for breaking into thf 
 premises." 
 
 The policeman ! Ted looked up and saw, as he after- 
 wards expressed it, " a whole lot of women " standing like 
 accusing witnesses of the crime he and John had beer 
 guilty of. They had been breaking into a house ! they 
 should be had up before a magistrate, sent for trial to the 
 sessions, have a jury and a judge, and all the dreadful 
 force of the law arrayed against them ! He saw it all in 
 a moment — the disgrace, the shame, and what would be 
 almost as bad, the laughter ! What little sense Ted had 
 left in him was fairly scared away now, and the only 
 thought that presented itself was the possibility of escape. 
 " Let's hook it ! " he cried, frantically, and looked wildly up 
 at the window by which they had entered ; but Mrs. Bligh 
 and her pupils had arranged themselves below that, so 
 escape that way was impossible. He dashed aside the 
 curtain that screened the studio from the school-room, 
 and, seizing John by the arm, ran forward with the vague 
 idea of making his escape by the door. No chance ! there 
 stood Mrs. Knight just before them with a lighted candle 
 in her hand. A gust of the cool evening air came in 
 through the window Simon had left open, and Ted rushed 
 towards that, still dragging John, who was so bewildered 
 by his bruises as to be content for once to play a secondary 
 part. 
 
286 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 In a second he was on the desks, then on the window 
 ledge, above them, and holding out a helping hand to John 
 Then, where should they go ? Below the window was a 
 yard walled in at either end. Ted rushed forward desper- 
 ately, and was on one of the beams that shored up the two 
 buildings. He crawled along it somehow, and was in the 
 gutter, John following him mechanically, climbing along 
 with hands and feet, almost as instinctively as a monkey 
 does, sensible of nothing but that he was leaving behind 
 the horrible mechanism which had beaten him so fearfully. 
 On they went — luckily the gutter was broad and firm, till 
 at last they reached the skylight that lit Mrs. Vesey's little 
 room. Ted thought he heard voices behind him — detec- 
 tion, capture, all seemed imminent ; in reality, it was only 
 Mrs. Bligh, now in the school-room, calling out, as she 
 tried to mount the window and look after them — " Bless 
 those boys ! I hope they won't break their necks." Hardly 
 conscious of what he did, he dashed one of the panes of 
 the skylight open, and sprang inside, followed by John, 
 who rushed giddily forward, and then fell senseless at his 
 feet 
 
CONCLUSION. 
 
 HOW JOHN MISSED HIS FOOTING AND FOUND HIS SENSES 
 
 "\ yf" R. SUMNER saw nothing of his nephew that night, 
 ■*•»■*■ neither did he of his nephew's friend. He went to 
 the river and inquired of the boatmen if they had seen any 
 thing of the two lads he described : but no one could give 
 him any information about them. Everything in the shop 
 seemed just as he had left it, and he knew that John, let 
 him do his best, would not have found it very easy to do 
 much harm to any one. At last he missed the galvanic- 
 battery, and then it occurred to him that they might have 
 taken it away to make some experiment with, have injured 
 it, and afraid to return. Possibly Master Harley had gone 
 home to ask his father for money to replace it with. 
 
 " I hope his father will stop it out of his pocket-money," 
 thought the old doctor. " I suppose Master John has made 
 him a convert to one of his glorious ' ideas.' " However, 
 he went to the different police stations and made inquiries, 
 but still without any result. He never thought of going to 
 the School of Art, as it was not an open night, or he might 
 have heard something that would have set him on the 
 
288 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 track of the fugitives ; so at last he gave matters up and 
 went home, expecting to see Master John to-morrow with 
 a very penitent face, and possibly the remains of his gal 
 vanic-battery under his arm. 
 
 He went to bed — there was the night-bell if John and 
 his friend did return. They could make themselves heard 
 by that, and he slept undisturbed till the morning, 
 when Knaggs made his appearance, and, on hearing the 
 account of John's disappearance along with the battery, 
 received it as a matter of course, — indeed with rather an 
 appearance of satisfaction. He had expected that some- 
 thing would go wrong during his absence, and it was 
 rather a relief to find that his expectations were verified, 
 and he sat down and ate his breakfast with a better appe- 
 tite than ever. 
 
 The two unhappy creatures in Mrs. Vesey's work- 
 room did not spend nearly so comfortable a night as Mr. 
 Sumner. John himself had hurt his head seriously in 
 falling, and lay for a long time without speaking. Ted 
 made him as comfortable as he could; took off his jacket 
 and placed it as a pillow for him, and laid the table cover 
 over him for a quilt ; then he sat down by his side, feeling 
 at liberty to indulge his reflections, which were none of the 
 pleasantest. He had tried the door, and found it locked 
 on the other side. There was no getting out that way. 
 If they got out and went along the gutter, and diopped into 
 the yard — not at all an easy thing to do — still they must 
 be penned in by the high walls on either side, by no means 
 
CONCLUSION. 289 
 
 ao easy to surmount as Mrs. Bligh imagined, she having 
 given them credit, when she looked into the yard after 
 them, for having escaped that way. She had certainly 
 said they must be as good at climbing as cats, and if they 
 could have got over those walls they would have been. 
 No — there was no escape ; nothing for it but to remain 
 where they were, and the next morning be taken before 
 magistrates. Ted was very miserable ; all the more mis- 
 erable that John for a long time was unconscious and 
 speechless, and when he did speak it was in a rambling, in- 
 coherent manner, that was almost more distressing than his 
 silence. Ted had never been so frightened in his life ; he 
 thought the night would never end, and at last, fairly worn 
 out by fright and anxiety, he fell into a broken and restless 
 sleep, from which he was awoke by the murmur of voices 
 in the room outside. 
 
 He started up in affright. Were the police coming 
 to take him as a burglar? He saw himself in imagination 
 being dragged through the streets, and standing before 
 the magistrates, and what on earth could he say in his 
 defence ? Only that he had been concerned in a very 
 foolish trick, of which he was now thoroughly ashamed. 
 It was broad daylight now ; the sun was shining through 
 the skylight upon John, as he lay on the ground looking 
 flushed, and strange, and unconscious of all that was 
 going on. Ted almost wished he was so too. Now it 
 seemed as if the whole responsibility of the affair rested 
 upon him. It would be no use people asking anything of 
 
 *9 
 
2go THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 John ; so they would be sure to ask him, and what evei 
 should he say ? In another moment the key was in the 
 lock. Ted sprang to his feet ; they would have him now 
 for a certainty ; then the door was opened, and a sharp- 
 nosed, bright-eyed face peeped in ; it was Mrs. Vese/s, 
 who instantly, and with a scream, closed the door again. 
 
 "Ifs all up!" said Ted. "Now she'll send for the 
 police — have us up before the magistrates ; no doubt they'll 
 be a set of muffs — they mostly are — and won't let me off 
 with a wigging, or think that I've been served out enough 
 as it is. There they are ! a lot of women, I suppose, by the 
 screeching. That's right ; oh ! I'm a murderer, am I ? near- 
 ly killed old Simon ? who's he, I wonder ? Go on, pitch it 
 strong ; there's nothing like it while you're about it. Six 
 of us, were there ? Oh ! I wonder who's been spreading 
 all those precious lies." 
 
 The truth was, that one of the young ladies who work- 
 ed for Mrs. Vesey was a niece of Mrs. Knight's, and had 
 heard from her aunt that morning an exaggerated account 
 ol the invasion of the school the preceding night. Mrs. 
 Knight, like Mrs. Bligh, had had no time to recognize the 
 boys who had broken in and torn so wildly out again ; and 
 it is not to be wondered at if she magnified both their 
 numbers and their size. The story lost nothing in her 
 niece's mouth, and as soon as she came to the workroom 
 that morning, she had related it to her companions and 
 Mrs. Vesey. They all agreed that it was a great mercj 
 the burglars had not paid them a visit, and Mrs. Vesej 
 
CONCLUSION. 291 
 
 felt especially thankful when she thought of the treasures 
 in her own little apartment. It was very natural that 
 when she opened the door and saw two miserable-looking 
 objects — one stretched on the ground with an ugly cut on 
 his forehead, the other pale, bruised, and haggard, stand- 
 ing by him, she should think that she had the burglars of 
 the night before her. She closed the door, and hesitated 
 a moment as to whether she should go into hysterics or run 
 and tell what she had seen. Being a sensible woman, she 
 took the latter course, and as the young ladies supplied 
 the deficiencies in her narrative with interjections and 
 s-eminiscences of the terrors of the night, Ted was able to 
 hear the opinion they had formed of him ; and it certainly 
 was true, in his case, that listeners do not hear any good 
 of themselves. 
 
 There is no knowing what turn affairs might have 
 taken. Ted's worst fears might to some extent have been 
 realized, had it not been for the unexpected appearance of 
 Mrs. Bligh upon the scene. She was not in the habit of 
 going to the school till eleven, but she intended to be there 
 earlier that morning to consult with Mrs. Knight as to the 
 best means of defending the school against similar attacks 
 in future. Simon had not produced the galvanic-battery 
 or the little engine the preceding evening, having some 
 idea that they were a portable cooking apparatus, and 
 thinking that they might be useful to him. Neither had 
 he said that it was John Ashdell whom he had cudgelled so 
 soundly. Simon thought that perhaps neither Mrs. Bligh 
 
292 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 nor Mr. Ray would approve of his punishing one of theii 
 pupils so severely ; therefore the lady still believed that 
 some evil-disposed boys from the town had broken into 
 the school, and thought that as the dressmaker's premises 
 were as much unprotected as their own, it would be only 
 neighborly to give her a caution in the matter on her way to 
 the school. This was what brought her to the workroom 
 this morning, and her presence at first only added to the 
 tumult. 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Bligh ! " 
 " Oh, good gracious, Mrs. Bligh ! " 
 " It's a mercy we're not all murdered ! " 
 " But we shall be, if we don't mind what we're about ! " 
 " They're desperate, and won't stand at anything ! " 
 " You may rely upon it, they've both got revolvers ! " 
 " So, if any one's to be shot, let it be the police ! " said 
 Mrs. Vesey, who was famous for making a tight bargain. 
 " It's what they're paid for, and their duty to put up with." 
 
 Mrs. Bligh looked round her — cool, comfortable, and 
 self-possessed as usual. That very look had a wonderful 
 effect upon the commotion around ; she raised her voice a 
 little, and said, " Please, young ladies, let Mrs. Vesey speak, 
 and then I may have a chance of hearing what is really 
 wrong." 
 
 They were all quiet then, as Mrs. Bligh had expected 
 they would be — as she would have told any one who might 
 have remarked upon it, " If I couldn't manage a few girls 
 at this time of day, I should like to know what I could do.' 
 
CONCLUSION. 293 
 
 Mrs. Vesey told her story. Two ruffians were in the 
 other room ; they must have got in through the skyiight. 
 She remembered, now, the cook, Martha, telling her she 
 had seen some broken pieces of glass in the yard below. 
 What had they better do ? — what would Mrs. Bligh advise ? 
 She was too frightened herself to look at them. 
 
 '* If they're no bigger than the ruffians I saw last night, 
 I shouldn't mind looking," said Mrs. Bligh. " May I take 
 a peep ? " 
 
 There was a shivering, and a shrieking, and a huddling 
 together, but one strong-minded young lady said she didn't 
 mind going in with Mrs. Bligh if she might be allowed the 
 tongs — perhaps Mrs. Bligh would like the poker? That 
 lady, however, declined the weapon, and gently opening 
 the door peeped in. She looked for one moment, then 
 stepped into the room, and said to Mrs. Vesey, " I shall be 
 glad if you will come too, but keep those girls out." 
 
 Mrs. Vesey hesitated, but her curiosity conquered hei 
 timidity. She went in, and Mrs. Bligh at once shut the 
 door, and raised the head of the figure on the ground and 
 placed it gently on her lap. 
 
 " Shall I send for a policeman ? " gasped Mrs. Vesey. 
 
 " No, don't ; send for a doctor — Mr. Sumner — " 
 
 "He may be dying, but he's dangerous for all that 
 Shall we have the girls in and handcuff them both ? " 
 
 " No ; don't ; but tell one of them to get the poor 
 fellows some tea." 
 
 " Oh, good gracious ! how ever you can pity them ? 
 
294 THE BOY WITH AN IDEA. 
 
 Did you ever see such a young villain as that one 
 looks?" 
 
 This was flattering to Ted, and he certainly was rather 
 
 a contrast to his usual gentlemanly self. 
 
 " He'd be the better for some soap and water," said 
 Mrs. Bligh, looking at him critically ; " but I should like 
 some vinegar to bathe this one's head with." 
 
 " I can't imagine how you can touch such low crea- 
 tures," said Mrs. Vesey. " I never saw two such villan- 
 ous faces in my life." 
 
 " Don't you know who they are ? " said Mrs. Bligh 
 "Then I'll tell you. It's Mr. Sumner's nephew and e. 
 young gentleman from London. They've been up to some 
 nonsense, but we don't want to give them up to the police 
 for all that. I think they're punished enough as it is ; 
 and if I were you, Mrs. Vesey, I'd keep this matter as 
 quiet as I could." 
 
 If ever Ted felt grateful to any one in his life, he did at 
 that moment to Mrs. Bligh. The sound of her hearty, 
 cheery voice roused even poor John ; and, looking up at 
 her face as it beamed over him, he had a dim notion that 
 he could suggest some way of doctoring himself, and said 
 gently, " I've got an ' idea.' " 
 
 " Of course you have, my poor fellow," said Mrs. Bligh ; 
 "and it's to be hoped it isn't quite so nonsensical as 
 the one, what ever it was, that led you into this scrape." 
 
 "But I won't say," said John, more gently still, that 
 it's a correct one." 
 
CONCLUSION. 295 
 
 Mrs. Bligh looked up radiant. " He's broken his head ! " 
 she said, joyfully, " but he's let a little sense into it ! " 
 
 So John had, apparently ; and it was high time. His 
 uncle came, he was taken home, and nursed and cared for. 
 His mother came to attend him, for he was a long time ill ; 
 but at last he recovered, to be a wiser if a sadder boy. 
 He had his " ideas " still, and a great many of them were 
 really good ones ; but he was ready to allow that other 
 people might have good ideas too, and that all the sense in 
 the world was not concentrated in John Ashdell. Ted, too, 
 had a little of the conceit taken out of him, and he certainly 
 had some to spare ; and, on the whole, though the immediate 
 consequences of that night's experiment were rather un- 
 pleasant ones, Mr. Sumner always considered that it had 
 turned out very satisfactorily. I think he had some right 
 to say so, and little cause to regret that he had asked his 
 great-nephew to visit Woodhurst ; for not an old doctor in 
 the kingdom has a cleverer young partner, or more ready to 
 make the best use of his own talents, more disposed to learn 
 all that the wisdom of others can teach him, than has Mr. 
 Sumner in his great-nephew, John Ashdell. 
 
Putnam's Knickerbocker Series 
 
 FOR YOUNG READERS 
 
 All high-class Juvenile Literature, well printed, on good paper, 
 and illustrated. Uniformly bound in ornate covers. 
 i2mo, cloth, yellow top, decorative linings, each, $1.25. 
 
 Ames, L. T. 
 
 Great Thoughts for Little Thinkers 
 
 Brooks, E. S. 
 
 Great Men's Sons 
 
 
 Historic Boys 
 
 
 Historic Girls 
 
 
 Chivalric Days 
 
 
 Heroic Happenings 
 
 
 The Long Walls 
 
 Cooper, J. F. 
 
 The Last of the Mohicans " 
 
 • 
 
 
 The Deerslayer 
 
 u M 8 
 
 8.9 <« B 
 
 
 The Pathfinder 
 
 
 The Pioneer 
 
 ' 1 8^-3 
 
 
 The Prairie 
 
 
 
 The Spy J 
 
 vO 
 
 
 The Pilot > 
 
 
 
 The Red Rover 
 
 <L> 0) 
 
 
 The Wing-and-Wing 
 
 *c3 B 
 
 
 The Water- Witch 
 
 
 The Two Admirals 
 
 
 
 The Sea-Lions ^ 
 
 tO VO 
 
 Church, A. J. 
 
 The Hammer 
 
 
 A Young Macedonian 
 
 
 Three Greek Children 
 
 Eggleston, G. C. 
 
 The Signal Boys 
 
 
 Captain Sam 
 
 
 The Big Brother 
 
 Farrington, M. V. 
 
 Tales of King Arthur 
 
 Hamp, S. F. 
 
 The Treasure of Mushroom Rock 
 
 Irving, W. 
 
 Stories and Legends 
 
 Knox, T. W. 
 
 Life of Robert Fulton 
 
 Le Due, V. 
 
 Learning to Draw 
 
 Lukin, J. 
 
 The Young Mechanic 
 
 
 Amongst Machines 
 
 Mayne-Reid 
 
 The Boy Hunters 
 
 
 The Bush Boys. A Tale of South Africa 
 
 
 The Young Voyageurs 
 
 Munroe, K. 
 
 Under Orders 
 
 
 Prince Dusty 
 
 
 Cab and Caboose 
 
 
 The Coral Ship 
 
 Ragozin, Z. A. 
 
 Siegfried and Beowulf. Tales of the Heroic 
 
 
 Ages 
 
 Rudd, J. P. 
 
 The Tower of the Old Schloss 
 
 Stoddard, E. V. 
 
 Bertrand du Guesclin — Constable of France 
 
FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 
 
 ROYAL ROGUES 
 
 By Alberta Bancroft. With Illustrations by Louis 
 Betts. i2°. (By mail, Si. 50), net, $1.35. 
 
 There are few healthy-minded folk, whatever their 
 time of life, who will not confess to a fondness for fairy 
 tales of the right sort. " Royal Rogues" has that 
 quality which makes a children's book win the hearts of 
 grown-ups. The heroes are merry twin rogues, king's 
 sons of course, but with a strain of fairy blood in their 
 veins. Wildly strange and delightful are their explo- 
 rations in the realms of fairyland. 
 
 "A charming story . . . must be accounted 
 one of the prettiest and cleverest of modern fairy 
 stories." — Worcester Spy. 
 
 ON BOARD A WHALER 
 
 An Adventurous Cruise through Southern Seas. By 
 Thomas West Hammond. With 16 full-page illus- 
 trations by Harry George Burgess. 12 . (By 
 mail, $1.50), net, $1.35. 
 
 "Thrilling throughout. ... In the name of 
 American youth, we thank Mr. Hammond for resus- 
 citating a memory that had slumbered so long." — Com. 
 A dvertiser. 
 
 "The yarn he spins of that and other trips in search 
 of oil is one of the best I ever read. It is indeed a 
 thrilling, exciting, dangerous story of the sea, a tale of 
 personal experience put into book form by as brave a 
 sailor as ever chased whales, and it is full of that local 
 color which makes a fellow's blood tingle as he turns 
 the pages. The illustrations are excellent." — Henry 
 Haynie in The Boston Times. 
 
 Q. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 NEW YORK LONDON 
 
BY ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS. 
 
 IblStOtfC 350^6. Their Endeavors, Their Achievements, and 
 Their Times. With 29 full-page illustrations. 8°, pp, viii. ■+• 
 259 • . $1.50 
 
 " Told with a spirit that makes them capital reading for boys. Mr. Brooks 
 writes in a clear and vivacious English, and has caught the art of throwing into 
 high relief the salient point of his stories."— Christian Union. 
 
 "IbfStOrtC CirlS. Stories of Girls Who have Influenced the His- 
 tory of Their Times. 8°, illustrated, pp. viii. + 225. $1.50 
 
 " The stories are worth telling on their own account, and will serve at once to 
 give their young readers some knowledge, and to quicken the historical imagina- 
 tion." — N. V. Evening Post. 
 
 GbtV&ltiC 2Da£S and Youthful Deeds. Stirring stories, presenting 
 faithful pictures of historic times. Illustrated, 8° . $1.50 
 
 " The historic episodes upon which these stories are based are well chosen, and 
 handled with considerable skill and picturesqueness." — Mail and Express. 
 
 IbetOiC flSappenitigS, Told in Verse and Story. Illustrated, 
 8° $1.50 
 
 " Told in a manner to elicit and hold the attention of both younger and older 
 readers. . . . The book possesses the fascination of fiction, while imparting 
 the facts of history."— Chautauquan. 
 
 Great liberie S0Jt8. Stories of the Sons of Great Men from 
 Socrates to Napoleon. Fully illustrated, 8° . . $1.50 
 
 Including the Sons of Socrates, Alexander, Cicero, Marcus Aure- 
 lius, Mahomet, Charlemagne, Alfred, William the Conqueror, Sala- 
 din, Dante, Tamerlane, Columbus, Luther, Shakespeare, Cromwell, 
 Peter the Great, Napoleon. 
 
 " Mr. Brooks has performed his task faithfully, and made a book which every 
 skoughtful man ought to read. It is very charming." — N. Y. Herald. 
 
 l£be XOTIQ "CtHallS, An American Boy's Adventures in Greece, 
 A Story of Digging and Discovery, Temples and Treasures. 
 By E. S. Brooks and John Alden. Illustrated by George Foster 
 Barnes. 8° $1.50 
 
 " The characters in the book are clearly drawn . . . the picturesque sad 
 exciting adventures are told with vivacity." — Philadelphia Press. 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, New York and London 
 
Tales of the Heroic Ages. 
 
 By ZbnaIde A. Ragozin, author of " Chaldea," " Vedic India," etc. 
 No. I. — Siegfried, the Hero of the North, and Beowulf, the Hero 
 
 of the Anglo-Saxons. Illustrated. 12° . . . $1.50 
 No. II. — Frithjof, the Viking cf Norway, and Roland, the Paladin 
 
 of France. Illustrated. 12° $1.50 
 
 No. III. — Salammbo, the Maid of Carthage. Illustrated. ia°. $1.50 
 
 "The author is one who knows her subject as a scholar, and has the skill and 
 imagination to construct her stories admirably. Her style is terse and vivid, well 
 adapted to interest the young in these dignified and thrilling tales." — DiaC. 
 
 Plutarch for Boys and Girls. 
 
 Selected and Edited by John S. White. Illustrated. 8°. $1.75 
 Library edition. 2 vols. 16 ...... 2.50 
 
 " It is a pleasure to see in so beautiful and elegant a form one of the great books 
 of the world. The best Plutarch for young readers."— Literary World. 
 " Shows admirable scholarship and judgment." — Critic. 
 
 Pliny for Boys and Girls. 
 
 The Natural History of Pliny the Elder. Edited for Boys and Girls 
 by John S. White. With 52 illustrations. 4° . $2.00 
 
 " Mr. White's selections are admirably made. He has gleaned in all directions 
 for his notes ; and the result is one which reflects on him great credit, and adds 
 another to the number of juvenile books which may be commended without reser- 
 vation." — Independent. 
 
 " For the libraries of the young — and every boy and girl in the land should 
 collect a library of their own — these superb books have a special adaptation ; they 
 open the classics to them." — Boston Journal of Education. 
 
 Herodotus for Boys and Girls. 
 
 Edited by John S. White. With 50 illustrations. 8° . $1.75 
 
 Library edition. 2 vols. 16 . . . . . . 2.50 
 
 " The book really contains those parts of Herodotus which a judicious parent 
 Would most likely have his boys and girls acquainted with, and Mr. White has 
 succeeded in condensing these by omitting multitudes of phrases inserted in the 
 Greek text. The print is so large and clear that no one need fear that it will 
 foster a tendency to near-sightedness on the part of boy or girl." — Nation. 
 
 The Travels of Marco Polo. 
 
 Edited for Boys and Girls, with explanatory notes and comments, by 
 Thomas W. Knox. With over 200 illustrations. 8°. $1.75 
 
 "To the student of geography Marco Polo needs no introduction. He is 
 revered as the greatest of all travellers in the Middle Ages, and by more than one 
 careful geographer his work is believed to have led to the discovery of the New 
 World by the Hardy Mariner of Genoa. . . . The story of his travels wai 
 received with incredulity, and he died while Europe was gravely doubting it* 
 truth. It has remained for later generations to establish the correctness of his 
 narrative and accord him the praise he sc richly deserves." 
 
 G P. PUTNAM'S SONS, New York and London