CHAPTER SEVEN.

  IN WHICH JACK MAKES SOME VERY SAGE REFLECTIONS, AND COMES TO A VERYUNWISE DECISION.

  After all, it must be acknowledged that although there are cases ofdistress in which a well may become a place of refuge, a well is not atall calculated for a prolonged residence--so thought Jack. After he hadbeen there some fifteen minutes, his teeth chattered, and his limbstrembled; he felt a numbness all over, and he thought it high time tocall for assistance, which at first he would not, as he was afraid heshould be pulled up to encounter the indignation of the farmer and hisfamily. Jack was arranging his jaws for a halloo, when he felt thechain pulled up, and he slowly emerged from the water. At first heheard complaints of the weight of the bucket, at which Jack was notsurprised, then he heard a tittering and laughing between two parties,and soon afterwards he mounted up gaily. At last his head appearedabove the low wall, and he was about to extend his arms so as to securea position on it, when those who were working at the windlass beheldhim. It was a heavy farming-man and a maid-servant.

  "Thank you," said Jack.

  One never should be too quick in returning thanks; the girl screamed andlet go the winch; the man, frightened, did not hold it fast: it slippedfrom his grasp, whirled round, struck him under the chin and threw himover it headlong, and before the "Thank you" was fairly out of Jack'slips, down he went again like lightning to the bottom. Fortunately forJack, he had not yet let go the chain, or he might have struck the sidesand have been killed; as it was, he was merely soused a second time, andin a minute or two regained his former position.

  "This is mighty pleasant," thought Jack, as he clapped his wet hat oncemore on his head: "at all events, they can't now plead ignoranc; theymust know that I'm here."

  In the meantime the girl ran into the kitchen, threw herself down on astool, from which she reeled off in a fit upon sundry heaps of doughwaiting to be baked in the oven, which were laid to rise on the floorbefore the fire.

  "Mercy on me, what is the matter with Susan?" exclaimed the farmer'swife. "Here--where's Mary--where's John?--Deary me, if the bread won'tall be turned to pancakes."

  John soon followed, holding his under-jaw in his hand, looking verydismal and very frightened, for two reasons; one, because he thoughtthat his jaw was broken, and the other, because he thought he had seenthe devil.

  "Mercy on us, what is the matter?" exclaimed the farmer's wife again."Mary, Mary, Mary!" screamed she, beginning to be frightened herself,for with all her efforts she could not remove Susan from the bed ofdough, where she lay senseless and heavy as lead. Mary answered to hermistress's loud appeal, and with her assistance they raised up Susan;but as for the bread, there was no hopes of it ever rising again. "Whydon't you come here and help Susan, John?" cried Mary.

  "Aw-yaw-aw!" was all the reply of John, who had had quite enough ofhelping Susan, and who continued to hold his head, as it were, in hishand.

  "What's the matter here, missus?" exclaimed the farmer, coming in."Highty-tighty, what ails Susan, and what ails you?" continued thefarmer, turning to John. "Dang it, but everything seems to go wrongthis blessed day. First there be all the apples stolen--then there beall the hives turned topsy-turvy in the garden--then there be Caesarwith his flank opened by the bull--then there be the bull broken throughthe hedge and tumbled into the saw-pit--and now I come to get more helpto drag him out, I find one woman dead like, and John looks as if he hadseen the devil."

  "Aw-yaw-aw!" replied John, nodding his head very significantly.

  "One would think that the devil had broke loose to-day. What is it,John? Have you seen him, and has Susan seen him?"

  "Aw-yaw."

  "He's stopped your jaw, then, at all events, and I thought the devilhimself wouldn't have done that--we shall get nothing of you. Is thatwench coming to her senses?"

  "Yes, yes, she's better now.--Susan, what's the matter?"

  "Oh, oh, ma'am! the well, the well--"

  "The well! Something wrong there, I suppose: well, I will go and see."

  The farmer trotted off to the well; he perceived the bucket was at thebottom and all the rope out; he looked about him, and then he lookedinto the well. Jack, who had become very impatient, had been looking upsome time for the assistance which he expected would have come sooner;the round face of the farmer occasioned a partial eclipse of the rounddisc which bounded his view, just as one of the satellites of Jupitersometimes obscures the face of the planet round which he revolves.

  "Here I am," cried Jack, "get me up quick, or I shall be dead;" and whatJack said was true, for he was quite done up by having been so longdown, although his courage had not failed him.

  "Dang it, but there be somebody fallen into the well," cried the farmer;"no end to mishaps this day. Well, we must get a Christian out of awell afore we get a bull out of a saw-pit, so I'll go call the men."

  In a very short time the men who were assembled round the saw-pit werebrought to the well.

  "Down below there, hold on now."

  "Never fear," cried Jack.

  Away went the winch, and once more Jack had an extended horizon tosurvey. As soon as he was at the top, the men hauled him over thebricks and laid him down upon the ground, for Jack's strength had failedhim.

  "Dang it, if it bean't that chap who was on my apple-tree," cried thefarmer--"howsomever, he must not die for stealing a few apples; lift himup, lads, and take him in--he is dead with cold--no wonder."

  The farmer led the way, and the men carried Jack into the house, whenthe farmer gave him a glass of brandy; this restored Jack's circulation,and in a short time he was all right again.

  After some previous conversation, in which Jack narrated all that hadhappened, "What may be your name?" inquired the farmer.

  "My name is Easy," replied Jack.

  "What, be you the son of Mr Easy, of Forest Hill?"

  "Yes."

  "Dang it, he be my landlord, and a right good landlord too--why didn'tyou say so when you were up in the apple-tree? You might have pickedthe whole orchard and welcome."

  "My dear sir," replied Jack, who had taken a second glass of brandy, andwas quite talkative again, "let this be a warning to you, and when a manproposes to argue the point, always, in future, listen. Had you waited,I would have proved to you most incontestably that you had no more rightto the apples than I had; but you would not listen to argument, andwithout discussion we can never arrive at truth. You send for your dog,who is ripped up by the bull--the bull breaks his leg in a saw-pit--thebee-hives are overturned and you lose all your honey--your man Johnbreaks his jaw--your maid Susan spoils all the bread--and why? becauseyou would not allow me to argue the point."

  "Well, Mr Easy, it be all true that all these mishaps have happenedbecause I would not allow you to argue the point, perhaps, although, asI rent the orchard from your father, I cannot imagine how you could haveproved to me that the apples were not mine; but now, let's take yourside of the question, and I don't see how you be much better off. Youget up in a tree for a few apples, with plenty of money to buy them ifyou like--you are kept there by a dog--you are nearly gored by a bull--you are stung by the bees, and you tumble souse into a well, and arenearly killed a dozen times, and all for a few apples not worthtwopence."

  "All very true, my good man," replied Jack; "but you forget that I, as aphilosopher, was defending the rights of man."

  "Well, I never knew before that a lad who stole apples was called aphilosopher--we calls it petty larceny in the indictments; and as foryour rights of man, I cannot see how they can be defended by doingwhat's wrong."

  "You do not comprehend the matter, farmer."

  "No, I don't--and I be too old to learn, Master Easy. All I have to sayis this, you are welcome to all the apples in the orchard if you please,and if you prefers, as it seems you do, to steal them, instead of askingfor them, which I only can account for by the reason that they say, that`stolen fruit be sweetest,' I've only to say that I shall give ordersthat you be not interfered wit
h. My chaise be at the door, Master Easy,and the man will drive you to your father's--make my compliments to him,and say that I'm very sorry that you tumbled into our well."

  As Jack was much more inclined for bed than argument, he wished thefarmer good-night, and allowed himself to be driven home.

  The pain from the sting of the bees, now that his circulation had fullyreturned, was so great, that he was not sorry to find Dr Middletontaking his tea with his father and mother. Jack merely said that he hadbeen so unfortunate as to upset a hive, and had been severely stung. Hedeferred the whole story till another opportunity. Dr Middletonprescribed for Jack, but on taking his hand found that he was in a highfever, which, after the events of the day, was not to be wondered at.Jack was bled, and kept his bed for a week, by which time he wasrestored; but during that time Jack had been thinking very seriously,and had made up his mind.

  But we must explain a circumstance which had occurred, which wasprobably the cause of Jack's decision. When Jack returned on theevening in question, he found seated with his father and Dr Middleton,a Captain Wilson, a sort of cousin to the family, who but occasionallypaid them a visit, for he lived at some distance; and having a wife andlarge family, with nothing but his half-pay for their support, he couldnot afford to expend even shoe-leather in compliments. The object ofthis visit on the part of Captain Wilson was to request the aid of MrEasy. He had succeeded in obtaining his appointment to a sloop of war(for he was in the king's service), but was without the means of fittinghimself out, without leaving his wife and family penniless. Hetherefore came to request Mr Easy to lend him a few hundred pounds,until he should be able, by his prize-money, to repay them. Mr Easywas not a man to refuse such a request, and, always having plenty ofspare cash at his banker's, he drew a cheque for a thousand pounds,which he gave to Captain Wilson, requesting that he would only repay itat his convenience. Captain Wilson wrote an acknowledgment of the debt,promising to pay upon his first prize-money, which receipt, howeverbinding it may be to a man of honour, was, in point of law, about asvaluable as if he had agreed to pay as soon "as the cows came home."The affair had been just concluded, and Captain Wilson had returned intothe parlour with Mr Easy, when Jack returned from his expedition.

  Jack greeted Captain Wilson, whom he had long known; but, as we beforeobserved, he suffered so much pain, that he soon retired with DrMiddleton, and went to bed.

  During a week there is room for much reflection, even in a lad offourteen, although at that age we are not much inclined to think. ButJack was in bed; his eyes were so swollen with the stings of the beesthat he could neither read nor otherwise amuse himself; and he preferredhis own thoughts to the gabble of Sarah, who attended him. So Jackthought, and the result of his cogitations we shall soon bring forward.

  It was on the eighth day that Jack left his bed and came down into thedrawing-room. He then detailed to his father the adventures which hadtaken place, which had obliged him to take to his bed.

  "You see, Jack," replied his father, "it's just what I told you: theworld is so utterly demoralised by what is called social compact, andthe phalanx supporting it by contributing a portion of their unjustpossessions for the security of the remainder, is so powerful, that anyone who opposes it, must expect to pass the life of a martyr; butmartyrs are always required previous to any truth, however sublime,being received, and, like Abraham, whom I have always considered as agreat philosopher, I am willing to sacrifice my only son in so noble acause."

  "That's all very good on your part, father, but we must argue the pointa little. If you are as great a philosopher as Abraham, I am not quiteso dutiful a son as Isaac, whose blind obedience, in my opinion, is verycontrary to your rights of man: but the fact, in few words, is simplythis. In promulgating your philosophy, in the short space of two days,I have been robbed of the fish I caught, and my rod and line--I havebeen soused into a fish-pond--I have been frightened out of my wits by abull-dog--been nearly killed by a bull--been stung to death by bees, andtwice tumbled into a well. Now, if all that happens in two days, whatmust I expect to suffer in a whole year? It appears to be very unwiseto attempt making further converts, for people on shore seem determinednot to listen to reason or argument. But it has occurred to me, thatalthough the whole earth has been so nefariously divided among the few,that the waters at least are the property of all. No man claims hisshare of the sea--every one may there plough as he pleases, withoutbeing taken up for a trespasser. Even war makes no difference; everyone may go on as he pleases, and if they meet, it is nothing but aneutral ground on which the parties contend. It is, then, only upon theocean that I am likely to find that equality and rights of man, which weare so anxious to establish on shore; and therefore I have resolved notto go to school again, which I detest, but to go to sea, and propagateour opinions as much as I can."

  "I cannot listen to that, Jack. In the first place, you must return toschool; in the next place, you shall not go to sea."

  "Then, father, all I have to say is, that I swear by the rights of man Iwill not go back to school, and that I will go to sea. Who and what isto prevent me? Was not I born my own master?--has any one a right todictate to me as if I were not his equal? Have I not as much right tomy share of the sea as any other mortal? I stand upon perfectequality," continued Jack, stamping his right foot on the floor.

  What had Mr Easy to offer in reply? He must either, as a philosopher,have sacrificed his hypothesis, or, as a father, have sacrificed hisson. Like all philosophers, he preferred what he considered as the lessimportant of the two, he sacrificed _his_ son; but--we will do himjustice--he did it with a sigh.

  "Jack, you shall, if you wish it, go to sea."

  "That, of course," replied Jack, with the air of a conqueror, "but thequestion is, with whom? Now it has occurred to me that Captain Wilsonhas just been appointed to a ship, and I should like to sail with him."

  "I will write to him," said Mr Easy mournfully, "but I should haveliked to have felt his head first;" and thus was the matter arranged.

  The answer from Captain Wilson was, of course, in the affirmative, andhe promised that he would treat Jack as his own son.

  Our hero mounted his father's horse, and rode off to Mr Bonnycastle.

  "I am going to sea, Mr Bonnycastle."

  "The very best thing for you," replied Mr Bonnycastle.

  Our hero met Dr Middleton.

  "I am going to sea, Dr Middleton."

  "The very best thing for you," replied the doctor.

  "I am going to sea, mother," said John.

  "To sea, John, to sea? no, no, dear John, you are not going to sea,"replied Mrs Easy, with horror.

  "Yes, I am; father has agreed, and says he will obtain your consent."

  "My consent! Oh, my dear, dear boy!"--and Mrs Easy wept bitterly, asRachel mourning for her children.