Sentimental Tommy Page 3

  CHAPTER III

  SHOWING HOW TOMMY WAS SUDDENLY TRANSFORMED INTO A YOUNG GENTLEMAN

  It would have fared ill with Mrs. Sandys now, had her standoffishness toher neighbors been repaid in the same coin, but they were full ofsympathy, especially Shovel's old girl, from whom she had often drawnback offensively on the stair, but who nevertheless waddled up severaltimes a day with savory messes, explaining, when Mrs. Sandys sniffed,that it was not the tapiocar but merely the cup that smelt of gin. WhenTommy returned the cups she noticed not only that they were suspiciouslyclean, but that minute particles of the mess were adhering to his noseand chin (perched there like shipwrecked mariners on a rock, just out ofreach of the devouring element), and after this discovery she broughttwo cupfuls at a time. She was an Irish, woman who could have led theHouse of Commons, and in walking she seldom raised her carpet shoes fromthe ground, perhaps because of her weight, for she had an expansivefigure that bulged in all directions, and there were always bits of herhere and there that she had forgotten to lace. Round the corner was adelightful eating-house, through whose window you were allowed to gazeat the great sweating dumplings, and Tommy thought Shovel's mother wasrather like a dumpling that had not been a complete success. If he everknew her name he forgot it. Shovel, who probably had another name also,called her his old girl or his old woman or his old lady, and it was asight to see her chasing him across the street when she was in liquor,and boastful was Shovel of the way she could lay on, and he was partialto her too, and once when she was giving it to him pretty strong withthe tongs, his father (who followed many professions, among them that offinding lost dogs), had struck her and told her to drop it, and thenShovel sauced his father for interfering, saying she should lick him aslong as she blooming well liked, which made his father go for him with adog-collar; and that was how Shovel lost his eye.

  For reasons less unselfish than his old girl's Shovel also was willingto make up to Tommy at this humiliating time. It might be said of thesetwo boys that Shovel knew everything but Tommy knew other things, and asthe other things are best worth hearing of Shovel liked to listen tothem, even when they were about Thrums, as they usually were. The veryfirst time Tommy told him of the wondrous spot, Shovel had drawn a greatbreath, and said, thoughtfully:

  "I allers knowed as there were sich a beauty place, but I didn't jestknow its name."

  "How could yer know?" Tommy asked jealously.

  "I ain't sure," said Shovel, "p'raps I dreamed on it."

  "That's it," Tommy cried. "I tell yer, everybody dreams on it!" andTommy was right; everybody dreams of it, though not all call it Thrums.

  On the whole, then, the coming of the kid, who turned out to be calledElspeth, did not ostracize Tommy, but he wished that he had let theother girl in, for he never doubted that her admittance would have keptthis one out. He told neither his mother nor his friend of the othergirl, fearing that his mother would be angry with him when she learnedwhat she had missed, and that Shovel would crow over his blundering, butoccasionally he took a side glance at the victorious infant, and apoorer affair, he thought, he had never set eyes on. Sometimes it wasshe who looked at him, and then her chuckle of triumph was hard to bear.As long as his mother was there, however, he endured in silence, but thefirst day she went out in a vain search for work (it is about asdifficult to get washing as to get into the Cabinet), he gave the infanta piece of his mind, poking up her head with a stick so that she wasbound to listen.

  "You thinks as it was clever on you, does yer? Oh, if I had been on thestair!

  "You needn't not try to get round me. I likes the other one five timesbetter; yes, three times better.

  "Thievey, thievey, thief, that's her place you is lying in. What?

  "If you puts out your tongue at me again--! What do yer say?

  "She was twice bigger than you. You ain't got no hair, nor yet no teeth.You're the littlest I ever seed. Eh? Don't not speak then, sulks!"

  Prudence had kept him away from the other girl, but he was feeling agreat want: someone to applaud him. When we grow older we call itsympathy. How Reddy (as he called her because she had beautifulred-brown hair) had appreciated him! She had a way he liked of openingher eyes very wide when she looked at him. Oh, what a difference fromthat thing in the back of the bed!

  Not the mere selfish desire to see her again, however, would take him inquest of Reddy. He was one of those superior characters, was Tommy, whogot his pleasure in giving it, and therefore gave it. Now, Reddy was aworthy girl. In suspecting her of overreaching him he had maligned her:she had taken what he offered, and been thankful. It was fitting that heshould give her a treat: let her see him again.

  His mother was at last re-engaged by her old employers, her supplanterhaving proved unsatisfactory, and as the work lay in a distant street,she usually took the kid with her, thus leaving no one to spy on Tammy'smovements. Reddy's reward for not playing him false, however, did notreach her as soon as doubtless she would have liked, because the firsttwo or three times he saw her she was walking with the lady of hischoice, and of course he was not such a fool as to show himself. But hewalked behind them and noted with satisfaction that the lady seemed tobe reconciled to her lot and inclined to let bygones be bygones; whenat length Reddy and her patron met, Tommy thought this a good sign too,that Ma-ma (as she would call the lady) had told her not to go fartheraway than the lamp-post, lest she should get lost again. So evidentlyshe had got lost once already, and the lady had been sorry. He askedReddy many shrewd questions about how Ma-ma treated her, and if she gotthe top of the Sunday egg and had the licking of the pan and woreflannel underneath and slept at the back; and the more he inquired, themore clearly he saw that he had got her one of the right kind.

  Tommy arranged with her that she should always be on the outlook for himat the window, and he would come sometimes, and after that they metfrequently, and she proved a credit to him, gurgling with mirth at histales of Thrums, and pinching him when he had finished, to make surethat he was really made just like common human beings. He was a thin,pale boy, while she looked like a baby rose full blown in a nightbecause her time was short; and his movements were sluggish, but if shewas not walking she must be dancing, and sometimes when there were fewpeople in the street, the little armful of delight that she was jumpedup and down like a ball, while Tommy kept the time, singing "Thrummy,Thrummy, Thrum Thrum Thrummy." They must have seemed a quaint pair tothe lady as she sat at her window watching them and beckoning to Tommyto come in.

  One day he went in, but only because she had come up behind and takenhis hand before he could run. Then did Tommy quake, for he knew fromReddy how the day after the mother-making episode, Ma-ma and she hadsought in vain for his door, and he saw that the object had been to calldown curses on his head. So that head was hanging limply now.

  You think that Tommy is to be worsted at last, but don't be too sure;you just wait and see. Ma-ma and Reddy (who was clucking ratherheartlessly) first took him into a room prettier even than the one hehad lived in long ago (but there was no bed in it), and then, becausesomeone they were in search of was not there, into another room withouta bed (where on earth did they sleep?) whose walls were lined withbooks. Never having seen rows of books before except on sale in thestreets, Tommy at once looked about him for the barrow. The table wasstrewn with sheets of paper of the size that they roll a quarter ofbutter in, and it was an amazing thick table, a solid square of wood,save for a narrow lane down the centre for the man to put his legsin--if he had legs, which unfortunately there was reason to doubt. Hewas a formidable man, whose beard licked the table while he wrote, andhe wore something like a brown blanket, with a rope tied round it at themiddle. Even more uncanny than himself were three busts on a shelf,which Tommy took to be deaders, and he feared the blanket might blowopen and show that the man also ended at the waist. But he did not, forpresently he turned round to see who had come in (the seat of his chairturning with him in the most startling way) and then Tommy was relievedto notice two big fee
t far away at the end of him.

  "This is the boy, dear," the lady said. "I had to bring him in byforce."

  Tommy raised his arm instinctively to protect his face, this being thekind of man who could hit hard. But presently he was confused, and also,alas, leering a little. You may remember that Reddy had told him shemust not go beyond the lamp-post, lest she should be lost again. She hadgiven him no details of the adventure, but he learned now from Ma-ma andPapa (the man's name was Papa) that she had strayed when Ma-ma was in ashop and that some good kind boy had found her and brought her home; andwhat do you say to this, they thought Tommy was that boy! In hisamazement he very nearly blurted out that he was the other boy, but justthen the lady asked Papa if he had a shilling, and this abruptly closedTommy's mouth. Ever afterwards he remembered Papa as the man that wasnot sure whether he had a shilling until he felt his pockets--a new kindof mortal to Tommy, who grabbed the shilling when it was offered tohim, and then looked at Reddy imploringly, he was so afraid she wouldtell. But she behaved splendidly, and never even shook her head at him.After this, as hardly need be told, his one desire was to get out of thehouse with his shilling before they discovered their mistake, and it waswell that they were unsuspicious people, for he was making strangehissing sounds in his throat, the result of trying hard to keep hissniggers under control.

  There were many ways in which Tommy could have disposed of his shilling.He might have been a good boy and returned it next day to Papa. He mighthave given Reddy half of it for not telling. It could have carried himover the winter. He might have stalked with it into the shop where thegreasy puddings were and come rolling out hours afterwards. Some ofthese schemes did cross his little mind, but he decided to spend thewhole shilling on a present to his mother, and it was to be somethinguseful. He devoted much thought to what she was most in need of, and atlast he bought her a colored picture of Lord Byron swimming theHellespont.

  He told her that he got his shilling from two toffs for playing with alittle girl, and the explanation satisfied her; but she could have criedat the waste of the money, which would have been such a God-send to her.He cried altogether, however, at sight of her face, having expected itto look so pleased, and then she told him, with caresses, that thepicture was the one thing she had been longing for ever since she cameto London. How had he known this, she asked, and he clapped his handsgleefully, and said he just knowed when he saw it in the shop window.

  "It was noble of you," she said, "to spend all your siller on me."

  "Wasn't it, mother?" he crowed "I'm thinking there ain't many as nobleas I is!"

  He did not say why he had been so good to her, but it was because shehad written no letters to Thrums since the intrusion of Elspeth; astrange reason for a boy whose greatest glory at one time had been tosit on the fender and exultingly watch his mother write down words thatwould be read aloud in the wonderful place. She was a long time inwriting a letter, but that only made the whole evening romantic, and hefound an arduous employment in keeping his tongue wet in preparation forthe licking of the stamp.

  But she could not write to the Thrums folk now without telling them ofElspeth, who was at present sleeping the sleep of the shameless in thehollow of the bed, and so for his sake, Tommy thought, she meant towrite no more. For his sake, mark you, not for her own. She had oftentold him that some day he should go to Thrums, but not with her; shewould be far away from him then in a dark place she was awid to be lyingin. Thus it seemed, to Tommy that she denied herself the pleasure ofwriting to Thrums lest the sorry news of Elspeth's advent should spoilhis reception when he went north.

  So grateful Tommy gave her the picture, hoping that it would fill thevoid. But it did not. She put it on the mantelpiece so that she mightjust sit and look at it, she said, and he grinned at it from every partof the room, but when he returned to her, he saw that she was neitherlooking at it nor thinking of it. She was looking straight before her,and sometimes her lips twitched, and then she drew them into her mouthto keep them still. It is a kind of dry weeping that sometimes comes tomiserable ones when their minds stray into the happy past, and Tommy satand watched her silently for a long time, never doubting that the causeof all her woe was that she could not write to Thrums.

  He had seldom seen tears on his mother's face, but he saw one now. Theyhad been reluctant to come for many a day, and this one formed itselfbeneath her eye and sat there like a blob of blood.

  His own began to come more freely. But she needn't not expect him totell her to write nor to say that he didn't care what Thrums thought ofhim so long as she was happy.

  The tear rolled down his mother's thin cheek and fell on the grey shawlthat had come from Thrums.

  She did not hear her boy as he dragged a chair to the press and standingon it got something down from the top shelf. She had forgotten him, andshe started when presently the pen was slipped into her hand and Tommysaid, "You can do it, mother, I wants yer to do it, mother, I won't notgreet, mother!"

  When she saw what he wanted her to do she patted his face approvingly,but without realizing the extent of his sacrifice. She knew that he hadsome maggot in his head that made him regard Elspeth as a sore on thefamily honor, but ascribing his views to jealousy she had never triedseriously to change them. Her main reason for sending no news to Thrumsof late had been but the cost of the stamp, though she was also a littleconscience-stricken at the kind of letters she wrote, and the sight ofthe materials lying ready for her proved sufficient to draw her to thetable.

  "Is it to your grandmother you is writing the letter?" Tommy asked, forher grandmother had brought Mrs. Sandys up and was her only survivingrelative. This was all Tommy knew of his mother's life in Thrums, thoughshe had told him much about other Thrums folk, and not till longafterwards did he see that there must be something queer about herself,which she was hiding from him.

  This letter was not for her granny, however, and Tommy asked next, "Isit to Aaron Latta?" which so startled her that she dropped the pen.

  "Whaur heard you that name?" she said sharply. "I never spoke it toyou."

  "I've heard you saying it when you was sleeping, mother."

  "Did I say onything but the name? Quick, tell me."

  "You said, 'Oh, Aaron Latta, oh, Aaron, little did we think, Aaron,' andthings like that. Are you angry with me, mother?"

  "No," she said, relieved, but it was some time before the desire towrite came back to her. Then she told him "The letter is to a woman thatwas gey cruel to me," adding, with a complacent pursing of her lips, thecurious remark, "That's the kind I like to write to best."

  The pen went scrape, scrape, but Tommy did not weary, though he oftensighed, because his mother would never read aloud to him what she wrote.The Thrums people never answered her letters, for the reason, she said,that those she wrote to could not write, which seemed to simple Tommy tobe a sufficient explanation. So he had never heard the inside of aletter talking, though a postman lived in the house, and even Shovel'sold girl got letters; once when her uncle died she got a telegram, whichShovel proudly wheeled up and down the street in a barrow, other blokeskeeping guard at the side. To give a letter to a woman who had beencruel to you struck Tommy as the height of nobility.

  "She'll be uplifted when she gets it!" he cried.

  "She'll be mad when she gets it," answered his mother, without lookingup.

  This was the letter:--

  "MY DEAR ESTHER,--I send you these few scrapes to let you see I have notforgot you, though my way is now grand by yours. A spleet new blacksilk, Esther, being the second in a twelvemonth, as I'm a living woman.The other is no none tashed yet, but my gudeman fair insisted on buyinga new one, for says he 'Rich folk like as can afford to be mislaird, andnothing's ower braw for my bonny Jean.' Tell Aaron Latta that. When I'msailing in my silks, Esther, I sometimes picture you turning your winceyagain, for I'se uphaud that's all the new frock you've ha'en the year. Idinna want to give you a scunner of your man, Esther, more by token theysaid if your mither had not took him i
n hand you would never have kentthe color of his nightcap, but when you are wraxing ower your kail-potin a plot of heat, just picture me ringing the bell for my servant, andsaying, with a wave of my hand, 'Servant, lay the dinner.' And ony bonnyafternoon when your man is cleaning out stables and you're at the tub ina short gown, picture my man taking me and the children out a ride in acarriage, and I sair doubt your bairns was never in nothing more genteelthan a coal cart. For bairns is yours, Esther, and children is mine, andthat's a burn without a brig till't.

  "Deary me, Esther, what with one thing and another, namely buying asofa, thirty shillings as I'm a sinner, I have forgot to tell you aboutmy second, and it's a girl this time, my man saying he would like achange. We have christened her Elspeth after my grandmamma, and if myauld granny's aye living, you can tell her that's her. My man isterrible windy of his two beautiful children, but he says he would havebeen the happiest gentleman in London though he had just had me, andreally his fondness for me, it cows, Esther, sitting aside me on thebed, two pounds without the blankets, about the time Elspeth was born,and feeding me with the fat of the land, namely, tapiocas and sherrywine. Tell Aaron Latta that.

  "I pity you from the bottom of my heart, Esther, for having to bide inThrums, but you have never seen no better, your man having neither thesiller nor the desire to take yon jaunts, and I'm thinking that is justas well, for if you saw how the like of me lives it might disgust youwith your own bit house. I often laugh, Esther, to think that I was oncelike you, and looked upon Thrums as a bonny place. How is the old hole?My son makes grand sport of the onfortunate bairns as has to bide inThrums, and I see him doing it the now to his favorite companion, whichis a young gentleman of ladylike manners, as bides in our terrace. So nomore at present, for my man is sitting ganting for my society, and Idaresay yours is crying to you to darn his old socks. Mind and tellAaron Latta."

  This letter was posted next day by Tommy, with the assistance of Shovel,who seems to have been the young gentleman of ladylike manners referredto in the text.