Oswald Bastable and Others

  THE TWOPENNY SPELL

  Lucy was a very good little girl indeed, and Harry was not so bad--for aboy, though the grown-ups called him a limb! They both got on very wellat school, and were not wholly unloved at home. Perhaps Lucy was a bitof a muff, and Harry was certainly very rude to call her one, but sheneed not have replied by calling him a 'beast.' I think she did itpartly to show him that she was not quite so much of a muff as hethought, and partly because she was naturally annoyed at being buried upto her waist in the ground among the gooseberry-bushes. She got into thehole Harry had dug because he said it might make her grow, and then hesuddenly shovelled down a heap of earth and stamped it down so that shecould not move. She began to cry, then he said 'muff' and she said'beast,' and he went away and left her 'planted there,' as the Frenchpeople say. And she cried more than ever, and tried to dig herself out,and couldn't, and although she was naturally such a gentle child, shewould have stamped with rage, only she couldn't get her feet out to doit. Then she screamed, and her Uncle Richard came and dug her out, andsaid it was a shame, and gave her twopence to spend as she liked. So shegot nurse to clean the gooseberry ground off her, and when she wascleaned she went out to spend the twopence. She was allowed to go alone,because the shops were only a little way off on the same side of theroad, so there was no danger from crossings.

  'I'll spend every penny of it on myself,' said Lucy savagely; 'Harryshan't have a bit, unless I could think of something he wouldn't like,and then I'd get it and put it in his bread and milk!' She had neverfelt quite so spiteful before, but, then, Harry had never before beenquite so aggravating.

  She walked slowly along by the shops, wishing she could think ofsomething that Harry hated; she herself hated worms, but Harry didn'tmind them. Boys are so odd.

  Suddenly she saw a shop she had never noticed before. The window wasquite full of flowers--roses, lilies, violets, pinks,pansies--everything you can think of, growing in a tangled heap, as yousee them in an old garden in July.

  She looked for the name over the shop. Instead of being somebody orother, Florist, it was 'Doloro de Lara, Professor of white and blackMagic,' and in the window was a large card, framed and glazed. It said:

  ENCHANTMENTS DONE WHILE YOU WAIT. EVERY DESCRIPTION OF CHARM CAREFULLY AND COMPETENTLY WORKED. STRONG SPELLS FROM FIFTY GUINEAS TO TUPPENCE. WE SUIT ALL PURSES. GIVE US A TRIAL. BEST AND CHEAPEST HOUSE IN THE TRADE. COMPETITION DEFIED.

  Lucy read this with her thumb in her mouth. It was the tuppence thatattracted her; she had never bought a spell, and even a tuppenny onewould be something new.

  'It's some sort of conjuring trick, I suppose,' she thought, 'and I'llnever let Harry see how it's done--never, never, never!'

  She went in. The shop was just as flowery, and bowery, and red-rosy, andwhite-lilyish inside as out, and the colour and the scent almost tookher breath away. A thin, dark, unpleasing gentleman suddenly popped outof a bower of flowering nightshade, and said:

  'And what can we do for you to-day, miss?'

  'I want a spell, if you please,' said Lucy; 'the best you can do fortuppence.'

  'Is that all you've got?' said he.

  'Yes,' said Lucy.

  'Well, you can't expect much of a spell for that,' said he; 'however,it's better that I should have the tuppence than that you should; yousee that, of course. Now, what would you like? We can do you a nicelittle spell at sixpence that'll make it always jam for tea. And I'veanother article at eighteenpence that'll make the grown-ups always thinkyou're good even if you're not; and at half a crown----'

  'I've only got tuppence.'

  'Well,' he said crossly, 'there's only one spell at that price, andthat's really a tuppenny-half-penny one; but we'll say tuppence. I canmake you like somebody else, and somebody else like you.'

  'Thank you,' said Lucy; 'I like most people, and everybody likes me.'

  'I don't mean _that_,' he said. 'Isn't there someone you'd like to hurtif you were as strong as they are, and they were as weak as you?'

  '"And what can we do for you to-day, Miss?"'--Page170.]

  'Yes,' said Lucy in a guilty whisper.

  'Then hand over your tuppence,' said the dark gentleman, 'and it's abargain.'

  He snatched the coppers warm from her hand.

  'Now,' he said, 'to-morrow morning you'll be as strong as Harry, andhe'll be little and weak like you. Then you can hurt him as much as youlike, and he won't be able to hurt back.'

  'Oh!' said Lucy; 'but I'm not sure I want----I think I'd like to changethe spell, please.'

  'No goods exchanged,' he said crossly; 'you've got what you asked for.'

  'Thank you,' said Lucy doubtfully, 'but how am I----?'

  'It's entirely self-adjusting,' said nasty Mr. Doloro. 'No previousexperience required.'

  'Thank you very much,' said Lucy. 'Good----'

  She was going to say 'good-morning,' but it turned into 'good gracious,'because she was so very much astonished. For, without a moment'swarning, the flower-shop had turned into the sweet-shop that she knew sowell, and nasty Mr. Doloro had turned into the sweet-woman, who wasasking what she wanted, to which, of course, as she had spent hertwopence, the answer was 'Nothing.' She was already sorry that she hadspent it, and in such a way, and she was sorrier still when she gothome, and Harry owned handsomely that _he_ was sorry he had planted herout, but he really hadn't thought she was such a little idiot, and he_was_ sorry--so there! This touched Lucy's heart, and she felt more thanever that she had not laid out her tuppence to the best advantage. Shetried to warn Harry of what was to happen in the morning, but he onlysaid, 'Don't yarn; Billson Minor's coming for cricket. You can field ifyou like.' Lucy didn't like, but it seemed the only thing she could doto show that she accepted in a proper spirit her brother's apology aboutthe planting out. So she fielded gloomily and ineffectively.

  Next morning Harry got up in good time, folded up his nightshirt, andmade his room so tidy that the housemaid nearly had a surprise-fit whenshe went in. He crept downstairs like a mouse, and learned his lessonsbefore breakfast. Lucy, on the other hand, got up so late that it wasonly by dressing hastily that she had time to prepare a thoroughly goodbooby-trap before she slid down the banisters just as the breakfast-bellrang. She was first in the room, so she was able to put a little salt inall the tea-cups before anyone else came in. Fresh tea was made, andHarry was blamed. Lucy said, 'I did it,' but no one believed her. Theysaid she was a noble, unselfish sister to try and shield her naughtybrother, and Harry burst into floods of tears when she kicked him underthe table; she hated herself for doing this, but somehow it seemedimpossible to do anything else.

  Harry cried nearly all the way to school, while Lucy insisted on slidingalong all the gutters and dragging Harry after her. She bought acatapult at the toy-shop and a pennyworth of tintacks at the oil-shop,both on credit, and as Lucy had never asked for credit before, she gotit.

  At the top of Blackheath Village they separated--Harry went back to hisschool, which is at the other side of the station, and Lucy went on tothe High School.

  The Blackheath High School has a large and beautiful hall, with astaircase leading down into it like a staircase in a picture, and at theother end of the hall is a big statue of a beautiful lady. The HighSchool mistresses call her Venus, but I don't really believe that is hername.

  Lucy--good, gentle, little Lucy, beloved by her form mistress andrespected by all the school--sat on those steps--I don't know why noone caught her--and used her catapult to throw ink pellets (you knowwhat they are, of course) with her catapult at the beautiful whitestatue-lady, till the Venus--if that is her name, which I doubt--was allover black spots, like a Dalmation or carriage dog.

  Then she went into her class room and arranged tintacks, with thebusiness end up, on all the desks and seats, an act fraught with gloomyreturns to Blossoma Rand and Wilhelmina Marguerite Asterisk. Anotherbooby-trap--a dictionary, a pot of water, three pieces of chalk, and ahandful of torn paper--was hastily sketched above the door. Three
otherlittle girls looked on in open-mouthed appreciation. I do not wish toshock you, so I will not tell you about the complete success of thebooby-trap, nor of the bloodthirsty fight between Lucy and BerthaKaurter in a secluded fives-court during rec. Dora Spielman and GertrudeRook were agitated seconds. It was Lucy's form mistress, the adored MissHarter Larke, who interrupted the fight at the fifth round, and led theblood-stained culprits into the hall and up the beautiful picture-likesteps to the Headmistress's room.

  The Head of the Blackheath High School has all the subtle generalship ofthe Head in Mr. Kipling's 'Stalky.' She has also a manner which subduesparents and children alike to 'what she works in, like the dyer's hand.'Anyone less clever would have expelled the luckless Lucy--saddled withher brother's boy-nature--on such evidence as was now brought forward.Not so the Blackheath Head. She reserved judgment, the most terrible ofall things for a culprit, by the way, who thought it over for an hourand a half in the mistress's room, and she privately wrote a note toLucy's mother, gently hinting that Lucy was not quite herself: might besickening for something. Perhaps she had better be kept at home for aday or two. Lucy went home, and on the way upset a bicycle with a littlegirl on it, and came off best in a heated physical argument with abaker's boy.

  Harry, meanwhile, had dried his tears, and gone to school. He knew hislessons, which was a strange and pleasing thing, and roused in hismaster hopes destined to be firmly and thoroughly crushed in the nearfuture. But when he had emerged triumphantly from morning school hesuddenly found his head being punched by Simpkins Minor, on the groundthat he, Harry, had been showing off. The punching was scientific andirresistible. Harry, indeed, did not try to resist; in floods of tearsand with uncontrolled emotion he implored Simpkins Minor to let himalone, and not be a brute. Then Simpkins Minor kicked him, and severalother nice little boy-friends of his joined the glad throng, and itbecame quite a kicking party. So that when Harry and Lucy met at thecorner of Wemyss Road his face was almost unrecognisable, while Lucylooked as happy as a king, and as proud as a peacock.

  'What's up?' asked Lucy briskly.

  'Every single boy in the school has kicked me,' said Harry in flataccents. 'I wish I was dead.'

  'So do I,' said Lucy cheerily; 'I think I'm going to be expelled. Ishould be quite certain, only my booby-trap came down on Bessie Jayne'shead instead of Miss Whatshername's, and Bessie's no sneak, though shehas got a lump like an ostrich's egg on her forehead, and soaked throughas well. But I think I'm certain to be expelled.'

  'I wish I was,' said Harry, weeping with heartfelt emotion. 'I don'tknow what's the matter with me; I feel all wrong inside. Do you thinkyou can turn into things just by reading them? Because I feel as if Iwas in "Sandford and Merton," or one of the books the kind clergymanlent us at the seaside.'

  'How awfully beastly!' said Lucy. 'Now, I feel as if I didn't caretuppence whether I was expelled or not. And, I say, Harry, I feel as ifI was much stronger than you. I know I could twist your arm round andthen hit it like you did me the other day, and you couldn't stop me.'

  'Of course I couldn't! _I_ can't stop anybody doing anything they wantto do. Anybody who likes can hit me, and I can't hit back.'

  He began to cry again. And suddenly Lucy was really sorry. She had donethis, she had degraded her happy brother to a mere milksop, just becausehe had happened to plant her out, and leave her planted. Remorsesuddenly gripped her with tooth and claw.

  'Look here,' she said, 'it's all my fault! Because you planted me out,and I wanted to hurt you. But now I don't. I can't make you boy-braveagain; but I'm sorry, and I'll look after you, Harry, old man! Perhapsyou could disguise yourself in frocks and long hair, and come to theHigh School. I'd take care nobody bullied you. It isn't nice beingbullied, is it?'

  Harry flung his arms round her, a thing he would never have done in thepublic street if he had not been girlish inside at the time.

  'No, it's hateful,' he said. 'Lucy, I'm sorry I've been such a pig toyou.'

  Lucy put her arms round him, and they kissed each other, though it wasbroad daylight and they were walking down Lee Park.

  The same moment the enchanter Doloro de Lara ran into them on thepavement. Lucy screamed, and Harry hit out as hard as he could.

  'Look out,' said he; 'who are you shoving into?'

  'Tut-tut,' said the enchanter, putting his hat straight, 'you've bust upyour spell, my Lucy--child; no spells hold if you go kissing and sayingyou're sorry. Just keep that in mind for the future, will you?'

  He vanished in the white cloud of a passing steam-motor, and Harry andLucy were left looking at each other. And Harry was Harry and Lucy wasLucy to the very marrow of their little back-bones. They shook handswith earnest feeling.

  Next day Lucy went to the High School and apologised in dust and ashes.

  'I don't think I was my right self,' she said to the Headmistress, whoquite agreed with her, 'and I never will again!'

  And she never has. Harry, on the other hand, thrashed Simpkins Minorthoroughly and scientifically on the first opportunity; but he did notthrash him extravagantly: he tempered pluck with mercy.

  For this is the odd thing about the whole story. Ever since the day whenthe tuppenny spell did its work Harry has been kinder than before andLucy braver. I can't think why, but so it is. He no longer bullies her,and she is no longer afraid of him, and every time she does somethingbrave for him, or he does something kind for her, they grow more andmore alike, so that when they are grown up he may as well be calledLucius and she Harriett, for all the difference there will be betweenthem.

  And all the grown-ups look on and admire, and think that their incessantjawing has produced this improvement. And no one suspects the truthexcept the Headmistress of the High School, who has gone through thecomplete course of Social Magic under a better professor than Mr. Dolorode Lara; that is why she understands everything, and why she did notexpel Lucy, but only admonished her. Harry is cock of his school now,and Lucy is in the sixth, and a model girl. I wish all Headmistresseslearned Magic at Girton.