THE CRAFTS.

Evening Star, Issue 10901, 8 April 1899, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE CRAFTS.

tAn Bights Rttemi]

[Br Stbnkt Louth.]

CHAPTER XVn. THIS AND THAT. The holidays over t Dick Croft and Tub Hopper experienced the fearful joy of entering Mr Woodthorpe's class room asowmfcersof the third form. "J. J.'a " manner ■was always placid on the first day of the term: he reserved fcis thunders until the excitement of reunion should have passed away and given place to the reign of commonplace routine. He shook hands impressively—perhaps a little wistfully—with the boy* who were leaving him and "the fourth " for the high dignity of " Library," Mr Ruddock, and " the sixth "—and turned with a smile to-the little band of timid urchins who had come up from Cyril Gray and " the second." The smile was pleasant enough—humorous, even protective—though the Woodthorpian intensity gave it a suspicion of clumsiness : it seemed to say : " I'm trot going to eat you, but I daresay you'll often think that I am."

« Ah—Watson —Croft —Hopper—let me See, what is votm name?" " 'Arrison, sir," sheepishly replied the son of a local butcher.

" No—l think not," suggested J.J. with overpowering politeness: " think again, now ; how do you spell it ?"

"H, A—" ** Yes—quite so ; thank you —that will do. We will call it ' Harrison*' in this room, if you have no objection. In regard to the sounding of the aspirate, the line is drawn at my class rocm door. I understand thst in the big room the matter is regarded as open —a question of taste. Indeed, I have reason to believe that old Mrs White sweeps rip hundreds of dropped h's every morning when she cleans the school, but we don't dive her any trouble here." The class laughed—as the class laughed at Auburn. "Cunning old boy—J.J.!" observed Snapper in the playground. "Don't tell me that he didn't* know what Butchy Harrison's name was! Butchy's been in the school more than a year, and J.J.'s had him at detention heaps of times. No, he just wanted to trap him and then get out that venerable joke about old Mother White. He wouldn't have slept to-night if he'd missed it. Little things please little minds —and yet he has the consummate impudence to complain to my pater about what he calls my ' foolish pranks '! You'll hardly believe it, yon fellows ; but that's what he actually wrote in my report. 'He has not a bad disposition, but he is too frivolous ond fond of foolish pranks. He might pre pare "his lessons more carefully.' ThatV me ! —according to J.J. Did you ever hear of such rank injustice?—though what amaze: me still more is the pitiful lack of insight into character which such a report displays " —and the youth of the ruddy head appeared to be lost in pained astonishment at thr poverty of mental and moral equipment tba< had been bestowed upon the race of schoolmasters. The fine severity of his look wasomewhat spoiled, however, by an affectior ate wink directed towards the grinning anc admiring Dick. '" However," continued Snapper—" I'vf decided to work like Old Harry this term so as to hasten the time when I shall shake hands with J.J. and get into Library. What a cordial grasp I shall bestow upon him or that happy morning! 'Farewell,' I shal' say—or at all events I shall think—' fare well, my thunderous friend .'—sorry I can'* stay to hear the half-yearly jokelet about Mother White and the dropped h's.'—Bv as I say, I'm going to work, work, workso don't any of you fellows get enticing mc into mischief or laziness."

Dick snuggled up to the new disciple of industry. "What a fellow you are, Snap per!— Are you really going to work hard though?" "Rather!—my pater's been kicking ir no end of a row about that —thnt iniquitoy report: says he'll make a ploughman of nv instead of a doctor—put me behind a countc —apprentice me to a coalheaver—and variou other picturesque threats after the fashioi of naters."

" I think you ought to be an actor." sair Dick — presently. "My mother wa r itn actress before she was married." Tlv email face grew grave and wistful.

" That's really the chief reason why I'n going to work." said Snapper, inconsc nuent'.y. "I don't mind the pater's storm ing so much, but the mater cries, and it'—horrid.—Why, you'kk crying!— What' up with vou?" " Mother's not bten dead very long,' gasped Dick apologetically.

''Poor little beggar!—never mind—cry Ing's no srood to anybody. I'll give yo: twenty vards' start to Forman's and stan<" treat "whether I beat you or not." Nov Fonnan was a confectioner.

And Snapper did work—despite the dis couragenient of a fierce Woodthorpian storr so early as the third day of the term. I he ohose to establish a rabbit in his desi in the class room—what had that to do wit! J.J.? But J.J., as we know, was peculiar There was a scene of magnificent tragedover that rabbit, and Snapper preferred standing up to sitting down for days after His first inclination was to relapse into th' old carelessness and to regard success wit) J.J. as houele:s : his final determination wa to ignore such petty unreasonableness anf give the master another chance, ne worked then—and mived brains with his work. MWoodthoroe was incredulous at fir?t: subs." quentlv hopeful: finally elate. Snapper h.v an original knack in translating, when !•■ gave his mind to the business: a knacl which Watson, the heavy plodder from th« second iorm, could only envy in despair Ir, began to be whispered that Snappc mightTbe nrize-winr(er in the third at Christ mas—and that young Croft might get seconi 1

place. For Dick worked with a will, too. H' pot on well enough with the formidable master, who apparentlv liked the bovV sedate, rather whimsical manner, and thr storms did not descend upon him. Upo* others, however, they fell often, and Diet felt nervousl - uncomfortable. It must b' wrong for nnv man in his senses to carrv or like that!—whv should poor little Tim Hop per have the life half frightened out of him just because he was seized with an impulsf to carve his illustrious initials on his desk: "You could have heard J.J. shouting ai Tim a mile awav," wrote Dick in his diarv. "and Tim said afterwards that he really thought the world was coming to an end. Most of the superabundant cheekiness was taken out of Tim during that first half in the third. Snapper pave Tim a piece of sage advice : " When he is storming and you fee) frightened sav to yourself—' in two hours I shall be at home with the pater and mater, whatever he savs or does';—it will be a power of comfort to you." Nevertheless did Tim lose some of his spirit, and bitterly he bewailed his own folly, why had hp worked so hard in " the second " last term.' He might still have been there. Snapper did win the first Brize—with Dick second. Dick was greatly relieved: he had set his heart on his friend's success and the thoucrht of his own possible supre macv was quite terribK In his zeal for Snapper he would have become wilfully lax in his own work but for a salutary fear lest the laborious Watson should rush up an;J bear both of them. There was no altruistic virtue in this : rather was it a sort of thricerpfined egotism. The truth of the matter is m the diarv: "I like Snapper better than myself, and I shall get more pleasure in his winning than in winning myself. Inelegantly nut. no doubt; but there is philosophic sui"*estiveness in the remark which follows. "So perhaps I'm selfish after all." At about this date the diary notifies that Cvril Grav is to leave the school at the end of the vear. "He has got the place he applied for at Lindum. and he is engaged to be married to Aunt Addie. I said tbpt he would in my diarv when we were at Truv toD." dariiydv adds the annalist. "I'm awfully son- he is going, but he I must go and see him at Lindum. The boys are" going to give him a cricket bag. Everyone Hkes Dear Cvril." Mrs Croft did not blame Dick for getting only second prize this time, seeing that Snapper was bis senior by two vears. Amos, as before, was blithely satisfied, and gave the lad his first sovereign. Fred Eekersley gave him a Tennyson that Christmastide-and the day had a white mark in Dicks lifecalendar. The diary begins to break out in clumsy quotation. The grandmother had her fears: was not pride of learning one of

Baton's subtest wares?—and the special petitions for Dick's spiritual welfare began to makeeteningprayers a burden. "Teach him to delight in Thy best learning; fill him . with a desire far the prizes of Thy grace; ! give him a humble and a contrite heart." Dick was in his thirteenth year: high time, thought HannAh, for spiritual experiences and ■ convictions. There wsre some special services, and Mr Buttridge, a visiting light of the "connexion," occupied the prophet's chamber at" The Laburnums.*' At Hannah Croft's request the reverend man interviewed Dick, and finally recommended her to " let the lad be for awhile." Mr Buttridge was a humorist in his way, and Dick and he quizzed each other on friendly terms. Nell won his heart, too; for he affected long hair—over his coat collar —and the child audibly likened him to the picture of John Bunyan, which served as frontispiece to the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' The good minister almost shocked his hostess by going out for butterscotch that Saturday night. Nell was caught sucking it in chapel next day. Dick, however, was too busy listening to the eloquent preacher—a born pulpiteer, with rare charms against somnolency. From a wild shriek to a weird whisper—from tragedy to perilously comic anecdote —from passionate appeal to conversational quaiutness — Mr Buttridge was easy master of the compass. He started his sermon with the quiet remark: "I always like coming to Hetton" —and it was whispered among the friends that his discourses always opened with a complimentary remark of this kind when he was on his tours: nay, tradition said that, preaching once upon a time at Grimsby, he had led off as usual—" I always like coming to Grimsby" —and had subsequently been treated to a quiet reminder from the circuit steward: he had nevep been to Grimsby before. He was fond of giving a personal history of his family. With tearful pride he would tell of the early removal to glory of his brother James, who was pious and phthisical; then with more tearful intensity—in wondrous wailing tones—he told of the passing of the wayward and unrepentant Silas: finally summarising the record in this wise. " Yes, there's James " (pointing upwards); '' and there's Silas" (pointing downwards with a tragic tremor); and Robert is in the East Indies-; and" (with explosive shout and outstretched arms) " hebe's John !—proud to be where he is—in this hallowed chapel and among the good friends at Hetton!" Dick was fascinated—but then Mr Buttridge was t genius. One of these days Dick is going to write a full history of his life's vacations: so he «ays. The book will possess a wealth of loving detail that can hardly be expected from his oreseut historian: still, one incident of these winter holidays calls for notice. Shortly after Christmas Hannah Croft received a cordial note from Mrs Smith, the mother of " Snapper," inviting Dick to spend he last week of the holiday at Ranthorpe. Hannah hardly knew what to do She did iot like to trust the boy among strangers; the weather was stormy; Raifthorpe was nearly forty miles away; and —she was jealous of outside influences. Dick pleaded, •md found allies in Amos and Susannah; md at mst the anxious grandmother decided to seek an interview with Mr Woodthorpe. J.J. bore testimony to the general improvement displayed by Snapper during the last r erm —incidentally observing that Dr and Mrs Smith were old friends of his and ex.ellent people. At the same time he paid Dick a candid compliment. In the end the bov was allowed to go, though Nell wept in'd Hannah lay awake at nights. The .riser Amos continued to smile by day and *nore bv night. Dick was passionately elate: for his susceptible soul was in complete thrall to friendship and Snapper. He found not only Snapper but a bright jolly family still ii> the enjoyment of Christmas festivities. He vas made much of, and he received his first lemons in riding, skating, and—dancing. Hence trouble. On the third morning, n. ;iappv carelessness, Dick wrote to his grandmother : " I am enjoying myself very much. I am sorry Nell isn't here. They are ah very kind to me. Of course I shall be very dad to come home again, especially as Snap •ler will be coming back to school at thir vime time. There was a dance last night, We had been practising in the afternoon. Mrs Smith and Snapper and May (thats his sister, an awfully jolly girl) taught me. ind thev say I get on famously. . We are to ;mall dance—twentv couples. We are to have private theatricals "—Mrs Croft read 10 further. She would have been disturbed •iv this talk of dancing and play-acting it the best of times: as it was, the letter found her in an anxious and jncomfortable mood, and she jumped to the conclusion that her young charge was being -nticed bv frivolous sinners and was consenting. " She did not reflect that Dicks mother (whose last moments she had tended n affectionately and of whom she was wont *o speak so charitably) had been an actress, md that a quick, sensitive boy might resent i rebuke which bore the appearance of a redection on the dead. She was nervous, SSpSed and angry with herself for having fet Dick go; and, without Amois know•edge, she wrote a rather foolish letter to Mrs Smith. Her grandson she said.was iot accustomed to such gaieties as those of which he had told indeed she -ould not approve of his participation in *em She was sorry to cause any un-oEantness-recognising that Mrs Smiths Sntions were kindiy-but. she must be faithful to her religious convictions : would Mrs S be so good as to send Dick home at ° n Mrs Smith was a little amused and a good leal annoyed. Snapper was sorry and et a loss what to say. Dick was impotently Sous What troubled him most was the SbW of a misunderstanding with Inapperf the world would come to an end if this friendship of his were sported. Bufus poke reassuringly, but home Dick had to Z of course, and he reached Hetton in no liable mood. During the few remaining davs of the holidays he sulked wretchedly. Matter! were not improved by Amort tk,- Poor Hannah her husband S&t sh had b?en foolish and incojideSe; her grandson was sure_that he h\d been shamefully ill-treated If he had sasEsnsg have to be good enough for him. 1 ooi Hannah 1 , . I ( To be continued.) 1