Brownsmiths Boy - A Romance in a Garden - Page 57/241

The old gentleman chuckled and finished his bread and milk, while I

waited to hear more.

"I say I got tired of it at last, for I knew they flogged and locked up

the boy, and kept him on bread and water; but it did him no good; he

would run away. He used to come here, through the gate if it was open,

over the wall when it was shut, and he never said a word, only hung

about like a dog.

"I talked to him, coaxed him, and told him that if he would be a good

lad, and learn, I would have him to work some day, and he stared at me

just as if he were some dumb animal, and when I had done and sent him

off, what do you think happened, Grant?"

"He came back again, sir."

"Yes: came back again as soon as he could get away, and at last, being a

very foolish sort of old man, I let him stop, and he has been here ever

since."

"And never goes to school?"

"Never, Grant, I tried to send him, but I could only get him there by

blows, and I gave that up. I don't like beating boys."

I felt a curious shiver run through me as he said this, and I saw him

smile, but he made no allusion to me, and went on talking about Shock.

"Then I tried making a decent boy of him, giving him clothes, had a bed

put for him in the attic, and his meals provided for him here in the

kitchen."

"And wasn't he glad?" I said.

"Perhaps he was," said Old Brownsmith, quietly, "but he didn't show it,

for I couldn't get him to sleep in the bed, and he would not sit down to

his meals in the kitchen; so at last I grew tired, and took to paying

him wages, and made arrangements for one of the women who comes to work,

to find him a lodging, and he goes there to sleep sometimes."

I noticed that he said sometimes, in a peculiar manner, looking at me

the while. Then he went on: "I've tried several times since, Grant, my lad, but the young savage is

apparently irreclaimable. Perhaps when he gets older something may be

done."

"I hope so," I said. "It seems so dreadful to see a boy so--"

"So dirty and lost, as the north-country people call it, boy. Ah, well,

let him have his way for a bit, and we'll see by and by! You say he has

not annoyed you?"

"No, no," I said; "I don't think he likes me though."

"That does not matter," said the old gentleman, rising. "There, now,

I'm going to shave."