Next morning the old gentleman talked at breakfast-time about the
police, and having the young scoundrels sent to prison. Directly after,
he went down the garden with me and nine cats, to inspect the damages,
and when he saw the trampling and breaking of boughs he stroked a
tom-cat and made it purr, while he declared fiercely that he would not
let an hour pass without having the young dogs punished.
"They shall be caught and sent to prison," he cried.
"Poor old Sammy then.--I'll have 'em severely punished, the young
depredators.--Grant, you'd better get a sharp knife and a light ladder,
and cut off those broken boughs--the young villains--and tell Ike to
bring a big rake and smooth out these footmarks. No; I'll tell him.
You get the knife. I shall go to the police at once."
I cut out the broken boughs, and Ike brought down the ladder for me and
smoothed over the footmarks, chatting about the events of the past night
the while.
"He won't get no police to work, my lad, not he. Forget all about it
directly. Makes him a bit raw, o' course," said Ike, smoothing away
with the rake. "Haw! haw! haw! Think o' you two leathering of 'em. I
wish I'd been here, 'stead of on the road to London. Did you hit 'em
hard?"
"Hard as I could," I said. "I think Shock and I punished them enough."
"So do I. So do he. Rare and frightened they was too. Why, o'
course boys will steal apples. I dunno how it is, but they always
would, and will."
"But these were pears," I said.
"All the same, only one's longer than t'other. Apples and pears. He
won't do nothing."
Ike was right, for the matter was soon forgotten, and Mrs Dodley his
housekeeper used the pillow-case as a bag for clothes-pegs.
Those were bright and pleasant days, for though now and then some
trouble came like a cloud over my life there was more often plenty of
sunshine to clear that cloud away.
My uncles came to see me, first one and then the other, and they had
very long talks with Mr Brownsmith.
One of them told me I was a very noble boy, and that he was proud of me.
He said he was quite sure I should turn out a man.
"Talks to the boy as if he felt he might turn out a woman," Old
Brownsmith grumbled after he was gone.
It was some time after before the other came, and he looked me all over
as if he were trying to find a hump or a crooked rib. Then he said it
was all right, and that I could not do better.
One of them said when he went away that he should not lose sight of me,
but remember me now and then; and when he had gone Old Brownsmith said,
half aloud: "Thank goodness, I never had no uncles!" Then he gave me a comical
look, but turned serious directly.