The Story of the Treasure Seekers

  CHAPTER 11. CASTILIAN AMOROSO

  One day when we suddenly found that we had half a crown we decided thatwe really ought to try Dicky's way of restoring our fallen fortuneswhile yet the deed was in our power. Because it might easily havehappened to us never to have half a crown again. So we decided to dallyno longer with being journalists and bandits and things like them, butto send for sample and instructions how to earn two pounds a week eachin our spare time. We had seen the advertisement in the paper, and wehad always wanted to do it, but we had never had the money to sparebefore, somehow. The advertisement says: 'Any lady or gentlemancan easily earn two pounds a week in their spare time. Sample andinstructions, two shillings. Packed free from observation.' A good dealof the half-crown was Dora's. It came from her godmother; but she saidshe would not mind letting Dicky have it if he would pay her back beforeChristmas, and if we were sure it was right to try to make our fortunethat way. Of course that was quite easy, because out of two pounds aweek in your spare time you can easily pay all your debts, and havealmost as much left as you began with; and as to the right we told herto dry up.

  Dicky had always thought that this was really the best way to restoreour fallen fortunes, and we were glad that now he had a chance of tryingbecause of course we wanted the two pounds a week each, and besides, wewere rather tired of Dicky's always saying, when our ways didn't turnout well, 'Why don't you try the sample and instructions about our sparetime?'

  When we found out about our half-crown we got the paper. Noel wasplaying admirals in it, but he had made the cocked hat without tearingthe paper, and we found the advertisement, and it said just the same asever. So we got a two-shilling postal order and a stamp, and what wasleft of the money it was agreed we would spend in ginger-beer to drinksuccess to trade.

  We got some nice paper out of Father's study, and Dicky wrote theletter, and we put in the money and put on the stamp, and made H. O.post it. Then we drank the ginger-beer, and then we waited for thesample and instructions. It seemed a long time coming, and the postmangot quite tired of us running out and stopping him in the street to askif it had come.

  But on the third morning it came. It was quite a large parcel, andit was packed, as the advertisement said it would be, 'free fromobservation.' That means it was in a box; and inside the box was somestiff browny cardboard, crinkled like the galvanized iron on the tops ofchicken-houses, and inside that was a lot of paper, some of it printedand some scrappy, and in the very middle of it all a bottle, notvery large, and black, and sealed on the top of the cork with yellowsealing-wax.

  We looked at it as it lay on the nursery table, and while all the othersgrabbed at the papers to see what the printing said, Oswald went to lookfor the corkscrew, so as to see what was inside the bottle. He foundthe corkscrew in the dresser drawer--it always gets there, though it issupposed to be in the sideboard drawer in the dining-room--and when hegot back the others had read most of the printed papers.

  'I don't think it's much good, and I don't think it's quite nice to sellwine,' Dora said 'and besides, it's not easy to suddenly begin to sellthings when you aren't used to it.'

  'I don't know,' said Alice; 'I believe I could.' They all looked ratherdown in the mouth, though, and Oswald asked how you were to make yourtwo pounds a week.

  'Why, you've got to get people to taste that stuff in the bottle. It'ssherry--Castilian Amoroso its name is--and then you get them to buy it,and then you write to the people and tell them the other people want thewine, and then for every dozen you sell you get two shillings from thewine people, so if you sell twenty dozen a week you get your two pounds.I don't think we shall sell as much as that,' said Dicky.

  'We might not the first week,' Alice said, 'but when people found outhow nice it was, they would want more and more. And if we only got tenshillings a week it would be something to begin with, wouldn't it?'

  Oswald said he should jolly well think it would, and then Dicky took thecork out with the corkscrew. The cork broke a good deal, and some ofthe bits went into the bottle. Dora got the medicine glass that hasthe teaspoons and tablespoons marked on it, and we agreed to have ateaspoonful each, to see what it was like.

  'No one must have more than that,' Dora said, 'however nice it is.'

  Dora behaved rather as if it were her bottle. I suppose it was, becauseshe had lent the money for it.

  Then she measured out the teaspoonful, and she had first go, because ofbeing the eldest. We asked at once what it was like, but Dora could notspeak just then.

  Then she said, 'It's like the tonic Noel had in the spring; but perhapssherry ought to be like that.'

  Then it was Oswald's turn. He thought it was very burny; but he saidnothing. He wanted to see first what the others would say.

  Dicky said his was simply beastly, and Alice said Noel could taste nextif he liked.

  Noel said it was the golden wine of the gods, but he had to put hishandkerchief up to his mouth all the same, and I saw the face he made.

  Then H. O. had his, and he spat it out in the fire, which was very rudeand nasty, and we told him so.

  Then it was Alice's turn. She said, 'Only half a teaspoonful for me,Dora. We mustn't use it all up.' And she tasted it and said nothing.

  Then Dicky said: 'Look here, I chuck this. I'm not going to hawk roundsuch beastly stuff. Any one who likes can have the bottle. Quis?'

  And Alice got out 'Ego' before the rest of us. Then she said, 'I knowwhat's the matter with it. It wants sugar.'

  And at once we all saw that that was all there was the matter with thestuff. So we got two lumps of sugar and crushed it on the floor with oneof the big wooden bricks till it was powdery, and mixed it with some ofthe wine up to the tablespoon mark, and it was quite different, and notnearly so nasty.

  'You see it's all right when you get used to it,' Dicky said. I think hewas sorry he had said 'Quis?' in such a hurry.

  'Of course,' Alice said, 'it's rather dusty. We must crush the sugarcarefully in clean paper before we put it in the bottle.'

  Dora said she was afraid it would be cheating to make one bottle nicerthan what people would get when they ordered a dozen bottles, but Alicesaid Dora always made a fuss about everything, and really it would bequite honest.

  'You see,' she said, 'I shall just tell them, quite truthfully, whatwe have done to it, and when their dozens come they can do it forthemselves.'

  So then we crushed eight more lumps, very cleanly and carefully betweennewspapers, and shook it up well in the bottle, and corked it up with ascrew of paper, brown and not news, for fear of the poisonous printingink getting wet and dripping down into the wine and killing people. Wemade Pincher have a taste, and he sneezed for ever so long, and afterthat he used to go under the sofa whenever we showed him the bottle.

  Then we asked Alice who she would try and sell it to. She said: 'I shallask everybody who comes to the house. And while we are doing that, wecan be thinking of outside people to take it to. We must be careful:there's not much more than half of it left, even counting the sugar.'

  We did not wish to tell Eliza--I don't know why. And she opened the doorvery quickly that day, so that the Taxes and a man who came to our houseby mistake for next door got away before Alice had a chance to try themwith the Castilian Amoroso. But about five Eliza slipped out for half anhour to see a friend who was making her a hat for Sunday, and whileshe was gone there was a knock. Alice went, and we looked over thebanisters. When she opened the door, she said at once, 'Will you walkin, please?' The person at the door said, 'I called to see your Pa,miss. Is he at home?'

  Alice said again, 'Will you walk in, please?'

  Then the person--it sounded like a man--said, 'He is in, then?'

  But Alice only kept on saying, 'Will you walk in, please?' so at lastthe man did, rubbing his boots very loudly on the mat.

  Then Alice shut the front door, and we saw that it was the butcher, withan envelope in his hand. He was not dressed in blue, like when he iscutting up the sheep and things in the shop
, and he wore knickerbockers.Alice says he came on a bicycle. She led the way into the dining-room,where the Castilian Amoroso bottle and the medicine glass were standingon the table all ready.

  The others stayed on the stairs, but Oswald crept down and lookedthrough the door-crack.

  'Please sit down,' said Alice quite calmly, though she told meafterwards I had no idea how silly she felt. And the butcher sat down.Then Alice stood quite still and said nothing, but she fiddled withthe medicine glass and put the screw of brown paper straight in theCastilian bottle.

  'Will you tell your Pa I'd like a word with him?' the butcher said, whenhe got tired of saying nothing.

  'He'll be in very soon, I think,' Alice said.

  And then she stood still again and said nothing. It was beginning tolook very idiotic of her, and H. O. laughed. I went back and cuffed himfor it quite quietly, and I don't think the butcher heard.

  But Alice did, and it roused her from her stupor. She spoke suddenly,very fast indeed--so fast that I knew she had made up what she was goingto say before. She had got most of it out of the circular.

  She said, 'I want to call your attention to a sample of sherry wine Ihave here. It is called Castilian something or other, and at the priceit is unequalled for flavour and bouquet.'

  The butcher said, 'Well--I never!'

  And Alice went on, 'Would you like to taste it?'

  'Thank you very much, I'm sure, miss,' said the butcher.

  Alice poured some out.

  The butcher tasted a very little. He licked his lips, and we thoughthe was going to say how good it was. But he did not. He put down themedicine glass with nearly all the stuff left in it (we put it back inthe bottle afterwards to save waste) and said, 'Excuse me, miss, butisn't it a little sweet?--for sherry I mean?'

  'The _Real_ isn't,' said Alice. 'If you order a dozen it will come quitedifferent to that--we like it best with sugar. I wish you _would_ ordersome.' The butcher asked why.

  Alice did not speak for a minute, and then she said--

  'I don't mind telling _you_: you are in business yourself, aren'tyou? We are trying to get people to buy it, because we shall have twoshillings for every dozen we can make any one buy. It's called a purrsomething.'

  'A percentage. Yes, I see,' said the butcher, looking at the hole in thecarpet.

  'You see there are reasons,' Alice went on, 'why we want to make ourfortunes as quickly as we can.'

  'Quite so,' said the butcher, and he looked at the place where the paperis coming off the wall.

  'And this seems a good way,' Alice went on. 'We paid two shillings forthe sample and instructions, and it says you can make two pounds a weekeasily in your leisure time.'

  'I'm sure I hope you may, miss,' said the butcher. And Alice said againwould he buy some?

  'Sherry is my favourite wine,' he said. Alice asked him to have somemore to drink.

  'No, thank you, miss,' he said; 'it's my favourite wine, but it doesn'tagree with me; not the least bit. But I've an uncle drinks it. Suppose Iordered him half a dozen for a Christmas present? Well, miss, here's theshilling commission, anyway,' and he pulled out a handful of money andgave her the shilling.

  'But I thought the wine people paid that,' Alice said.

  But the butcher said not on half-dozens they didn't. Then he said hedidn't think he'd wait any longer for Father--but would Alice ask Fatherto write him?

  Alice offered him the sherry again, but he said something about 'Notfor worlds!'--and then she let him out and came back to us with theshilling, and said, 'How's that?'

  And we said 'A1.'

  And all the evening we talked of our fortune that we had begun to make.

  Nobody came next day, but the day after a lady came to ask for money tobuild an orphanage for the children of dead sailors. And we saw her. Iwent in with Alice. And when we had explained to her that we had onlya shilling and we wanted it for something else, Alice suddenly said,'Would you like some wine?'

  And the lady said, 'Thank you very much,' but she looked surprised.

  She was not a young lady, and she had a mantle with beads, and the beadshad come off in places--leaving a browny braid showing, and she hadprinted papers about the dead sailors in a sealskin bag, and theseal had come off in places, leaving the skin bare. We gave her atablespoonful of the wine in a proper wine-glass out of the sideboard,because she was a lady. And when she had tasted it she got up in a verygreat hurry, and shook out her dress and snapped her bag shut, and said,'You naughty, wicked children! What do you mean by playing a trick likethis? You ought to be ashamed of yourselves! I shall write to your Mammaabout it. You dreadful little girl!--you might have poisoned me. Butyour Mamma...'

  Then Alice said, 'I'm very sorry; the butcher liked it, only he said itwas sweet. And please don't write to Mother. It makes Father so unhappywhen letters come for her!'--and Alice was very near crying.

  'What do you mean, you silly child?' said the lady, looking quitebright and interested. 'Why doesn't your Father like your Mother to haveletters--eh?'

  And Alice said, 'OH, you...!' and began to cry, and bolted out of theroom.

  Then I said, 'Our Mother is dead, and will you please go away now?'

  The lady looked at me a minute, and then she looked quite different, andshe said, 'I'm very sorry. I didn't know. Never mind about the wine. Idaresay your little sister meant it kindly.' And she looked round theroom just like the butcher had done. Then she said again, 'I didn'tknow--I'm very sorry...'

  So I said, 'Don't mention it,' and shook hands with her, and let herout. Of course we couldn't have asked her to buy the wine after whatshe'd said. But I think she was not a bad sort of person. I do likea person to say they're sorry when they ought to be--especially agrown-up. They do it so seldom. I suppose that's why we think so much ofit.

  But Alice and I didn't feel jolly for ever so long afterwards. And whenI went back into the dining-room I saw how different it was from whenMother was here, and we are different, and Father is different, andnothing is like it was. I am glad I am not made to think about it everyday.

  I went and found Alice, and told her what the lady had said, and whenshe had finished crying we put away the bottle and said we would not tryto sell any more to people who came. And we did not tell the others--weonly said the lady did not buy any--but we went up on the Heath, andsome soldiers went by and there was a Punch-and-judy show, and when wecame back we were better.

  The bottle got quite dusty where we had put it, and perhaps the dust ofages would have laid thick and heavy on it, only a clergyman called whenwe were all out. He was not our own clergyman--Mr Bristow is our ownclergyman, and we all love him, and we would not try to sell sherryto people we like, and make two pounds a week out of them in our sparetime. It was another clergyman, just a stray one; and he asked Eliza ifthe dear children would not like to come to his little Sunday school. Wealways spend Sunday afternoons with Father. But as he had left the nameof his vicarage with Eliza, and asked her to tell us to come, we thoughtwe would go and call on him, just to explain about Sunday afternoons,and we thought we might as well take the sherry with us.

  'I won't go unless you all go too,' Alice said, 'and I won't do thetalking.'

  Dora said she thought we had much better not go; but we said 'Rot!' andit ended in her coming with us, and I am glad she did.

  Oswald said he would do the talking if the others liked, and he learnedup what to say from the printed papers.

  We went to the Vicarage early on Saturday afternoon, and rang at thebell. It is a new red house with no trees in the garden, only veryyellow mould and gravel. It was all very neat and dry. Just before werang the bell we heard some one inside call 'Jane! Jane!' and we thoughtwe would not be Jane for anything. It was the sound of the voice thatcalled that made us sorry for her.

  The door was opened by a very neat servant in black, with a white apron;we saw her tying the strings as she came along the hall, through thedifferent-coloured glass in the door. Her face was red, and I think
shewas Jane.

  We asked if we could see Mr Mallow.

  The servant said Mr Mallow was very busy with his sermon just then, butshe would see.

  But Oswald said, 'It's all right. He asked us to come.'

  So she let us all in and shut the front door, and showed us into a verytidy room with a bookcase full of a lot of books covered in black cottonwith white labels, and some dull pictures, and a harmonium. And MrMallow was writing at a desk with drawers, copying something out of abook. He was stout and short, and wore spectacles.

  He covered his writing up when we went in--I didn't know why. He lookedrather cross, and we heard Jane or somebody being scolded outside by thevoice. I hope it wasn't for letting us in, but I have had doubts.

  'Well,' said the clergyman, 'what is all this about?'

  'You asked us to call,' Dora said, 'about your little Sunday school. Weare the Bastables of Lewisham Road.'

  'Oh--ah, yes,' he said; 'and shall I expect you all to-morrow?'

  He took up his pen and fiddled with it, and he did not ask us to sitdown. But some of us did.

  'We always spend Sunday afternoon with Father,' said Dora; 'but wewished to thank you for being so kind as to ask us.'

  'And we wished to ask you something else!' said Oswald; and he madea sign to Alice to get the sherry ready in the glass. She did--behindOswald's back while he was speaking.

  'My time is limited,' said Mr Mallow, looking at his watch; 'butstill--' Then he muttered something about the fold, and went on: 'Tellme what is troubling you, my little man, and I will try to give you anyhelp in my power. What is it you want?'

  Then Oswald quickly took the glass from Alice, and held it out to him,and said, 'I want your opinion on that.'

  'On _that_,' he said. 'What is it?'

  'It is a shipment,' Oswald said; 'but it's quite enough for you totaste.' Alice had filled the glass half-full; I suppose she was tooexcited to measure properly.

  'A shipment?' said the clergyman, taking the glass in his hand.

  'Yes,' Oswald went On; 'an exceptional opportunity. Full-bodied andnutty.'

  'It really does taste rather like one kind of Brazil-nut.' Alice put heroar in as usual.

  The Vicar looked from Alice to Oswald, and back again, and Oswald wenton with what he had learned from the printing. The clergyman held theglass at half-arm's-length, stiffly, as if he had caught cold.

  'It is of a quality never before offered at the price. Old DelicateAmoro--what's its name--'

  'Amorolio,' said H. O.

  'Amoroso,' said Oswald. 'H. O., you just shut up--CastilianAmoroso--it's a true after-dinner wine, stimulating and yet...'

  '_Wine_?' said Mr Mallow, holding the glass further off. 'Do you_know_,' he went on, making his voice very thick and strong (I expect hedoes it like that in church), 'have you never been _taught_ that it isthe drinking of _wine_ and _spirits_--yes, and _beer_, which makes halfthe homes in England full of _wretched_ little children, and _degraded_,_miserable_ parents?'

  'Not if you put sugar in it,' said Alice firmly; 'eight lumps and shakethe bottle. We have each had more than a teaspoonful of it, and we werenot ill at all. It was something else that upset H. O. Most likely allthose acorns he got out of the Park.'

  The clergyman seemed to be speechless with conflicting emotions, andjust then the door opened and a lady came in. She had a white cap withlace, and an ugly violet flower in it, and she was tall, and lookedvery strong, though thin. And I do believe she had been listening at thedoor.

  'But why,' the Vicar was saying, 'why did you bring this dreadful fluid,this curse of our country, to _me_ to taste?'

  'Because we thought you might buy some,' said Dora, who never sees whena game is up. 'In books the parson loves his bottle of old port; and newsherry is just as good--with sugar--for people who like sherry. And ifyou would order a dozen of the wine, then we should get two shillings.'

  The lady said (and it _was_ the voice), 'Good gracious! Nasty, sordidlittle things! Haven't they any one to teach them better?'

  And Dora got up and said, 'No, we are not those things you say; but weare sorry we came here to be called names. We want to make our fortunejust as much as Mr Mallow does--only no one would listen to us if wepreached, so it's no use our copying out sermons like him.'

  And I think that was smart of Dora, even if it was rather rude.

  Then I said perhaps we had better go, and the lady said, 'I should thinkso!'

  But when we were going to wrap up the bottle and glass the clergymansaid, 'No; you can leave that,' and we were so upset we did, though itwasn't his after all.

  We walked home very fast and not saying much, and the girls went up totheir rooms. When I went to tell them tea was ready, and there wasa teacake, Dora was crying like anything and Alice hugging her. I amafraid there is a great deal of crying in this chapter, but I can't helpit. Girls will sometimes; I suppose it is their nature, and we ought tobe sorry for their affliction.

  'It's no good,' Dora was saying, 'you all hate me, and you think I'ma prig and a busybody, but I do try to do right--oh, I do! Oswald, goaway; don't come here making fun of me!'

  So I said, 'I'm not making fun, Sissy; don't cry, old girl.'

  Mother taught me to call her Sissy when we were very little and beforethe others came, but I don't often somehow, now we are old. I patted heron the back, and she put her head against my sleeve, holding on to Aliceall the time, and she went on. She was in that laughy-cryey state whenpeople say things they wouldn't say at other times.

  'Oh dear, oh dear--I do try, I do. And when Mother died she said, "Dora,take care of the others, and teach them to be good, and keep them out oftrouble and make them happy." She said, "Take care of them for me, Doradear." And I have tried, and all of you hate me for it; and to-day I letyou do this, though I knew all the time it was silly.'

  I hope you will not think I was a muff but I kissed Dora for some time.Because girls like it. And I will never say again that she comes thegood elder sister too much. And I have put all this in though I do hatetelling about it, because I own I have been hard on Dora, but I neverwill be again. She is a good old sort; of course we never knew beforeabout what Mother told her, or we wouldn't have ragged her as we did. Wedid not tell the little ones, but I got Alice to speak to Dicky, and wethree can sit on the others if requisite.

  This made us forget all about the sherry; but about eight o'clock therewas a knock, and Eliza went, and we saw it was poor Jane, if her namewas Jane, from the Vicarage. She handed in a brown-paper parcel and aletter. And three minutes later Father called us into his study.

  On the table was the brown-paper parcel, open, with our bottle and glasson it, and Father had a letter in his hand. He Pointed to the bottle andsighed, and said, 'What have you been doing now?' The letter in his handwas covered with little black writing, all over the four large pages.

  So Dicky spoke up, and he told Father the whole thing, as far as he knewit, for Alice and I had not told about the dead sailors' lady.

  And when he had done, Alice said, 'Has Mr Mallow written to you to sayhe will buy a dozen of the sherry after all? It is really not half badwith sugar in it.'

  Father said no, he didn't think clergymen could afford such expensivewine; and he said _he_ would like to taste it. So we gave him what therewas left, for we had decided coming home that we would give up tryingfor the two pounds a week in our spare time.

  Father tasted it, and then he acted just as H. O. had done when he hadhis teaspoonful, but of course we did not say anything. Then he laughedtill I thought he would never stop.

  I think it was the sherry, because I am sure I have read somewhere about'wine that maketh glad the heart of man'. He had only a very little,which shows that it was a good after-dinner wine, stimulating, and yet...I forget the rest.

  But when he had done laughing he said, 'It's all right, kids. Only don'tdo it again. The wine trade is overcrowded; and besides, I thought youpromised to consult me before going into business?'

 
'Before buying one I thought you meant,' said Dicky. 'This was only oncommission.' And Father laughed again. I am glad we got the CastilianAmoroso, because it did really cheer Father up, and you cannot always dothat, however hard you try, even if you make jokes, or give him a comicpaper.