Brownsmith's Boy: A Romance in a Garden

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

  AT THE SAND-PIT.

  The plumber came and repaired the pump next day, going down the wellwith a couple of men to hold the rope he had round his waist, and Iheard Mr Solomon grumbling and laughing a good deal about the care hewas taking.

  "If he does meet with an accident, Grant," he said, "it won't be hisfault this time. Why, you look poorly, my lad. Don't you feel well?"

  "I don't indeed, sir," I said; "my head swims, and things look strangeabout me."

  "Ah! yes," he said. "Well, look here; you have a good idle for a day ortwo."

  "But there are so many things want doing in the houses, sir," I said.

  "And always will be, Grant. Gardeners are never done. But let thatslide. I can get on without you for a day or two."

  "Have you heard how Mr Courtenay is?" I asked.

  "Yes, ever so much better, young whelp! Sir Francis has been giving hisbrother a tremendous setting down, I hear; and I think they are going toschool or somewhere else at once."

  That day, as I was wandering about the kitchen-garden after a chat withIke, who had settled down to his work just as if he belonged to theplace, and after I had tried to have a few words with Shock, who puzzledme more than ever, for he always seemed to hate me, and yet he hadfollowed me here, I heard some one shout, "Hi! halt!"

  I turned and saw Sir Francis beckoning to me, and I went up to him.

  "Better? Yes, of course. Boys always get better," he said. "Lookhere. Behaved very well yesterday. Go on. I've said a word toBrownsmith about you; but, look here: don't you tease my lads. Boyswill be boys, I know; but they are not in your station of life, and youmust not try to make companions of them."

  I made no answer: I could not, I was so taken aback by his words; and bythe time I had thought of saying that I had never teased eitherCourtenay or Philip, and that I had always tried to avoid them, he was ahundred yards away.

  "They must have been telling lies about me," I said angrily; and Iwalked on to where Ike was digging, to talk to him about it and ask hisadvice as to whether I should go and tell Sir Francis everything.

  "No," he said, stopping to scrape his spade when I had done. "Ishouldn't. It's kicks, that's what it is, and we all gets kicked moreor less through life, my boy; but what of it? He wouldn't think nobetter of you for going and telling tales. Let him find it out. Sureto, some day. Feel badly?"

  "Yes," I said, rather faintly.

  "Ah! sure to," said Ike, driving his spade into the ground. "But youdon't want no doctor. You swallowed a lot of bad air; now you swallow alot of good, and it'll be like lime on a bit o' newly dug ground. Loador two would do this good. There's the ganger hollering after you."

  "Yes!" I cried, and I went towards where Mr Brownsmith was standing.

  "Look here, Grant," he said, looking very red in the face. "Sir Francishas given me this to buy you a watch by and by. He says you're tooyoung to have one now, but I'm to buy it and keep it for you a year ortwo. Five pounds."

  "I'm much obliged to him," I said rather dolefully; but I did not feelat all pleased, and Mr Solomon looked disappointed, and I'm afraid hethought I was rather a queer boy.

  At the end of the week I heard that Courtenay was better, but that hewas to go with his brother down to the seaside, and to my great delightthey went; and though I thought the lad might have said, "Thank you," tome for saving his life, I was so pleased to find he was going, that thistroubled me very little, for it was as if a holiday time had just begun.

  The effects of my adventure soon passed away, and the days glided onmost enjoyably. There was plenty to do in the glass-houses, but it wasalways such interesting work that I was never tired of it; and it wasdelightful to me to see the fruit ripening and the progress of theglorious flowers that we grew. Mr Solomon was always ready to tell orshow me anything, and I suppose he was satisfied with me, for he used tonod now and then--he never praised; and Mrs Solomon sometimes smiled atme, but not very often.

  The autumn was well advanced when one day Mr Solomon told me that hehad arranged for Ike, as he was a good carter, to go with the strongesthorse and cart to a place he named in Surrey, to fetch a good load of aparticular kind of silver sand for potting.

  "It's a long journey, Grant," he said; "and you'll have to start veryearly, but I thought you would like to go. Be a change."

  "I should like it," I said. "Does Ike know I'm going?"

  "No; you can tell him."

  I went down to Ike, who was as usual digging, for he was the besthandler of a spade in the garden, and he liked the work.

  "Hullo!" he said surlily.

  "I'm to go with you for the sand, Ike," I cried.

  "Think o' that now!" he replied with a grim smile. "Why, I was justa-thinking it would be like going off with the old cart and Bonyparty tomarket, and how you and me went."

  "With Shock on the top of the load," I said laughing.

  "Ay, to be sure. Well, he's a-going this time to help mind the horse.And so you are going too?"

  "Yes," I said mischievously, "to look after you, and see that you doyour work."

  "Gahn!" he growled, beginning to dig again. Look here, though; if youain't ready I shall go without you.

  "All right, Ike!" I said. "What time do you start?"

  "Twelve o'clock sees me outside the yard gates, my lad. Five arter seesme down the road."

  "Do you know the way, Ike?" I said.

  "Do I know the way!" cried Ike, taking his spade close up to the bladeand scraping and looking at it as if addressing it. "Why, I was bornclose to that san'-pit, and put Old Brownsmith's brother up to gettingsome. I can show him where to get some real peat too, if he behaveshisself."

  The trip to the sand-pit kept all other thoughts out of my head; andthough I was packed off to bed at seven for a few hours' rest, MrSolomon having promised to sit up so as to call me, I don't think Islept much, and at last, when I was off soundly, I jumped up in afright, to find that the moon was shining full in at my window, and Ifelt sure that I had overslept myself and that Ike had gone.

  I had not undressed, only taken off jacket, waistcoat, and boots; and Isoftly opened my door and stole down in my stocking feet to look at theeight-day clock, when, as I reached the mat, a peculiar odour smote onmy senses, and then there was the sound of a fire being tapped gently,and Mrs Solomon said:

  "I think I'll go and wake him now."

  "I am awake," I said, opening the door softly, to find the table spreadfor breakfast, and Mr Solomon in spectacles making up his gardeningaccounts.

  "Just coming to call you, my lad," he said. "Half-past eleven, and Ikehas just gone to the stable."

  "And Shock?" I said.

  "The young dog! he has been sleeping up in the hay-loft again. Ike sayshe can't keep him at their lodgings."

  I ran back upstairs and finished dressing, to come down and find thatMr Solomon had taken out two basins of hot coffee and some bread andbutter for Ike and Shock, while mine was waiting.

  "Put that in your pocket, Grant," said Mrs Solomon, giving me a brownpaper parcel.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  "Sandwiches. You'll be glad of them by and by."

  I took the packet unwillingly, for I was not hungry then, and I thoughtit a nuisance; for I had no idea then that I was providing myself withthat which would save my life in the peril that was to come.

  It was ten minutes to twelve when I went down to the yard, where all thedogs were standing on their hind legs and straining at their chains,eager to be patted and talked to, and strongly excited at the sight ofthe horse being put to in the strong, springless cart.

  They howled and yelped and barked, begging in their way for a run, butthey were nearly all doomed to disappointment.

  "Just going to start without you," cried Ike in his surly way.

  "No, you were not," I said. "It isn't time."

  "'Tis by my watch," he growled as he fastened the chains of the cartharness. "I don
't pay no heed to no other time."

  "Bring as good a load as you can, and the coarser the better; but don'thurry the horse," said Mr Solomon. "Give him his own time, and he'lldraw a very heavy load."

  "All right, master. I'll take care."

  "Got your shovel and pick?"

  "Shovel. Shan't want no pick; the sand comes down as soon as you touchit. Now, then, Mars Grant, ready? May as well take a couple moresacks."

  The sacks were put in, and we were ready for a start, when a yelp tookmy attention, and I said:

  "I suppose you wouldn't like us to take Juno, sir?"

  "Oh, I don't know. Do the dog good. Do you want to take her?"

  "Yes," I said eagerly.

  The handsome, black, curly-haired retriever barked furiously, for shesaw that we were looking at her.

  Mr Solomon nodded, and I ran and unbuckled the dog's collar, having myface licked by way of thanks.

  As I threw the chain over the kennel Juno bounded up at the horse andthen rushed at the gate, barking furiously. Then she rushed back, andcharged at all the other dogs, barking as if saying, "Come along, lads,we're off."

  But the big gates were set open, Juno rushed out, there was a final wordor two from Mr Solomon, who said:

  "I sha'n't be surprised if you are very late."

  Then the dogs set up a dismal howl as the cart rumbled out over thestones, and in chorus they seemed to say:

  "Oh what a shame!"

  Then I looked back, and saw Mr Solomon in the moonlight shutting thegates, and I was trudging along beside Ike, close to the horse; and italmost seemed, in the stillness of the night, with the cart rattling byus and the horse's hoofs sounding loud and clear on the hard road, thatwe were bound for Covent Garden.

  "But where's Shock?" I said all at once.

  Ike gave his head a jerk towards the cart, and I ran and looked over thetailboard, to see a heap of sacks and some straw, but no Shock. In onecorner, though, there was a strongly made boot, and I took hold of that,to find it belonged to something alive, for its owner began to kickfiercely.

  "Better jump in, my lad," said Ike, and we did so, when, the seat havingbeen set right so as to balance the weight, Ike gave a chirrup, and wewent off at a good round trot.

  "Let him be," said Ike as I drew his attention to the heap of straw andsacks. "He goes best when you let him have his own way. He'll go tosleep for a bit, and I dessay we can manage to get on without him. Hisconversation isn't so very entertaining."

  I laughed, and for about an hour we trotted on, the whole affair beingso novel and strange that I felt quite excited, and wondered that Ikeneither looked to right nor left, but seemed to be studying the horse'sears.

  The fact was his thoughts were running in one particular direction, andI soon found which, for he began in his morose way:

  "Just as if I should overload or ill-use a hoss! Look at oldBonyparty."

  "What do you mean?" I said.

  "Why, him talking like that afore we started. I know what I'm about.You'd better lie down and cover yourself over with some sacks. Get agood sleep; I'll call you when we get there."

  "What, and miss seeing the country?" I cried.

  "Seeing the country! Lor', what a baby you are, Mars Grant! What isthere to see in that?"

  I thought a great deal; and a glorious ride it seemed through themoonlight and under the dark shadows of the trees in the country lanes.Then there was the dawn, and the sun rising, and the bright morning oncemore, with the dew glittering on the grassy strands and hedgerows; and Iwas so happy and excited that Ike said, with one of his grim smiles:

  "Why, anybody'd think you was going out for a holiday 'stead of helpingto load a sand cart."

  "It's such a change, Ike," I said.

  "Change! What sort o' change? Going to use a shovel 'stead of a spade;and sand's easy to dig but awful heavy. Here, get up; are you going tolie snoring there all day?"

  He leaned over me and poked with the butt of the whip handle at Shock,but that gentleman only kicked and growled, and so he was left in peace.

  Just before eight o'clock, after a glorious morning ride through a hillycountry, we came to a pretty-looking village with the houses covered inwith slabs of stone instead of slates or tiles or thatch, and the softgrey, and the yellow and green lichen and moss seemed to make the placequaint and wonderfully attractive to me; but I was not allowed to sitthinking about the beauty of the place, for Ike began to tell me of theplan of our campaign.

  "Yon's the sand-hill," he said, pointing with his whip as he drew up ata little inn. "We'll order some braxfass here; then while they'rebriling the bacon we'll take the cart up to the pit and leave it, andbring the horse back to stop in the stable till we want him again."

  The order was given, and then we had a slow climb up a long hill towhere, right at the top, the road had been cut straight through, leavingan embankment, forty or fifty feet high, on each side, while, forgenerations past, the sand had been dug away till the embankments weresome distance back from the road.

  "Just like being on the sea-shore," said Ike. "I see the ocean once.Linkyshire cost. All sand like this. Rum place, ain't it?"

  "I think it's beautiful," I said as the cart was drawn over the yieldingsand, the horse's hoofs and the wheels sinking in deep, while quite acliff, crowned with dark fir-trees, towered above our heads. The faceof the sandy cliff was scored with furrows where the water had run down,and here it was reddish, there yellow or cream colour, and thendazzlingly white, while just below the top it was honey-combed withholes.

  "San'-martins' nesties," said Ike, pointing with his whip. "There'sclouds of 'em sometimes. There they go."

  He pointed to the pretty white-breasted birds as they darted here andthere, and on we still went, jolting up and down in the sandy bottom,where there was only a faint track, till we were opposite to a series ofcavern-like holes and the sand cliff towered up with pine-trees here andthere half-way down where the sand had given way or been undermined, andthey had glided down a quarter--half--three parts of the distance. Inshort, it was a lovely, romantic spot, with a view over the pleasantland of Surrey on our right, and on our left a cliff of beautifulsalmon-coloured sand, side by side with one that was quite white.

  "You won't get better sand than that nowheres," said Ike, standing upand getting out of the cart, an example I followed. "Here we'll pitch,Mars Grant, and--"

  Quickly and silently, as he gave me a comical look, he unhitched a chainor two, unbuckled the belly-band, and let the shafts fly up.

  The result was that Shock's head went bang against the tail-board, andthen his legs went over it, and he came out with a curious somersault,and stared about only half awake, and covered with straw and sacks.

  He jumped up angrily, and as soon as he saw that we were laughing athim, turned his back, and kicked the sand at us like a pawing horse; butIke gave the whip a flick at him, and told him to put the sacks in thecart.

  "No one won't touch them. Come along, old horse," he cried; and,leading the way, the horse followed us with the reins tucked in its pad,and we waded through the sand in which Juno rolled and tried to burrowtill we were out once more in the hard road, where the dog had to bewhistled for, consequent upon her having started a rabbit.

  We found her at last, trying to get into a hole that would have been atight fit for a terrier, and she came reluctantly away.

  The most delicious breakfast I ever tasted was ready at the little inn;but Ike saw to his horse first, and did not sit down till it wasenjoying its corn, after a good rub down with a wisp of straw. Then theway in which we made bread and bacon disappear was terrible, for thejourney had given us a famous appetite.

  Shock would not join us, preferring the society of the horse in thestable, but he did not fare badly. I saw to that.

  At last after a final look at the horse, who was to rest till evening,we walked back to the sand-pit, climbing higher and higher into thesweet fresh air, till we were once more by the cart,
when Ike laid onehand upon the wheel and raised the other.

  "Look here, lads," he said; "that horse must have eight hours' rest'fore tackling her load, and a stop on the way home, so let's load up atonce with the best coarse white--we can do it in half an hour or so--then you two can go rabbiting or bird-nesting, or what you like, while Ihave a pipe and a sleep in the sand till it's time to get something toeat and fetch the horse and go."

  "Where's a shovel?" I cried; and Shock jumped into the cart foranother.

  "Steady, lads, steady," said Ike; "plenty of time. Only best coarsewhite, you know. Wait till I've propped the sharps and got her so asshe can't tilt uppards. That's your sort. She's all right now. Wedon't want no more berryin's, Mars Grant, do we? Now, then, only thebest white, mind. Load away."

  He set the example, just where the beautiful white sand seemed to havetrickled, down from the cliff till it formed a softly rounded slope, andattacking this vigorously we were not long before Ike cried:

  "Woa!"

  "But it isn't half full," I cried.

  "No, my lad. If it was," said Ike, "our horse couldn't pull it. Thatstuff's twice as heavy as stones. There, stick in your shovels, and nowbe off. Don't go far. You ought with that dog to find us a rabbit fordinner."

  Shock's eyes flashed, and he looked quite pleased, forgetting to turnhis back, and seeming disposed for once to be friendly, as, with Juno atour heels, we started up the sandy bottom on an expedition that provedone of the most adventurous of our lives.