Dick's Legacy

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XIV, Issue X, 9 March 1895, Page 227

Dick's Legacy

E were a large family, and it was only to be •£ rti73*sj? expected that one of ns should have insisted jA wjws upon going to sea. My father said he would *J)\ 'AW as soon have seen Dick go to the dogs at once > ut we knew he didn’t mean that. He only meant that it was very hard that his favourite son, and the child of his old age, should not be content to earn hit living at home, or at least in bis own country, but must betake himself to lands which the rest of us had only read of in the geography books. We lived in London, and within a very easy distance of the Thames—indeed, our street led into it—but nothing would do but Dick must sail to Spain and see the Guadalquiver—a name that sounds like an alligator in extremis. Our Dick cared nothing for foreign scenery, had no thirst for information of any kind, didn’t care whether the climate was warm or cold, hadn’t the slightest knowledge of any tongue but his own (and that he knew very imperfectly), had no sympathy with Columbus or Captain Cook—and yet he must be always going to sea. Going to see what? his father used to inquire peevishly; and poor Dick never could answer him, for he didn’t know himself. He always pined to be off somewhere, to Kamschatka, or Mozambique, or Jericho, after he had been at home about three weeks or so. Spain not having been enough for him, be ran over to Canada; then he took a trip to Hong Kong; and finally went to the West Indies, from whence the dear light-hearted vagabond never returned. Yellow Jack laid him low at Berbice, and many an eye was touched with tears when the news came over the sea. It sent a spasm to his father’s heart from which he never recovered. For this ne’er do-well, who was no scapegrace, however, was liked by everybody who knew him. He was very poor, of course, being only a common seaman before the mast, at best; but he had kept all his friends in his memory wheresoever he went, and brought home some trifle from every outlandish place he visited, for one or other of them. He was not a man for a woman to marry—unless she was prepared to embrace the nautical profession as well as himself—but he was an immense favourite with all the sex ; and as for children, they adored him, and called him Uncle Dick whether authorized by the tables of affinity so to do or not. Hie last present, a posthumous one, brought over by a messmate to my wife, with • her brother Dick’s best love ’ — kind, simple soul that he was I — was a huge black parrot, the very ugliest bird that these eyes ever beheld. Lucy, however, welcomed it as though it had been a bird of paradise, for the sake of the giver; and father could hardly be persuaded not to have it in his room, when he lay ill of the sickness which at last was into death. But the fact was the black parrot was by no means a suitable bird for a sick-room ; for at most unexpected seasons, and commonly in the dead of night, it would begin to talk as loud as a washerwoman, and use the most reprehensible language, which it bad picked up at sea—upon its return voyage, as my wife always would have it, and by no means from Dick’s lips. ‘ Pooh, pooh 1’ * Never say die 1’ * What’s o’clock ? past kissingtime—chick, chick — and time to kiss again — chick, chick I* [This was his imitation of osculation.] ‘Tolderol, tolderol 11’ • Who’s afraid ?’ ‘ Kill the captain !’ • Scuttle the ship 1* — and a number of other objectionable statements, which would be not only tedious here to enumerate, but even improper. Notwithstanding this, Poll was a great pet with everybody (except the doctor, whom it had objurgated in the most unmeasured terms, having mistaken him, in his white cravat, for the ship’s chaplain), and when misfortune came upon us, in the pleasant guise, however, of a family too large for our income, Poll and bis huge gilt cage still formed a portion of our furniture, although many persons with more brain than heart thought it a piece of folly that we did not turn Dick’s loving legacy into hard money. The only inconvenience Poll suffered in consequence of this change in our circumstances, was that, being greatly crowded within doors, we hung him outside the house in the summer time, in which position he endured much wordy persecution from the street boys. To these he would return insult for insult, teaching them the badinage

used by mariners, and learning in return the flowers of speech that flourish in the streets of the metropolis. His jet-black plumage, his enormous beak, and the unprecedented (for a parrot) violence of his expressions, induced these enemies to call him Nick ; but, very fortunately, bis ear was not sufficiently acute to discern the difference between this contumelious name and Dick, which we had entitled him, after him who bad bequeathed him to us. But, * Never you mind,* my good father would observe to us, with general reference to all these drawbacks, * that bird will prove a blessing to you yet, or my dear boy would never have sent it to yon with his last breath across the seas.* And so, long after my poor father died, and when many of our children had grown up and were earning their own living, the parrot was with us still, without one tonch of gray upon a feather. We were outfitting Jack, our youngest but one, for a situation as under clerk in a colliery down in Wales, and had had no little trouble to raise the money for that and his long journey, when Dick first brought us luck. * My dear George,* said my wife to me one June evening, just after I had come home from a long day’s work, *if fifteen guineas would be a very great comfort to you, indeed, I know where to get them.’ Her voice was not so cheery as her words, and therefore I knew that there was a reverse side to such a gratifying offer. ' Well,’ said I, * and what’s to be done for that money ? It wonld be a great convenience, Lucy, no doubt, just now.* • That’s true,’ returned my wife with a little sigh. ‘ But we are not so poor as to be obliged to sell poor Dick even for that sum ; and it is for him that the money has been bid. If any of the children were ill, and wanted expensive medicines, or change of air, I should not hesitate about it; but since we have cut and contrived and scraped together enough to start our Jack, I think we should not be justified, eh, George— ’ My wife spoke with indecision, but she would secretly have been much disappointed in me if I had leaned towards selling the bird, I knew ; so I replied that that must not be thought of—certainly not—and inquired, merely as a matter of curiosity, how the offer happened to be made. • Well,’ said my wife, * Sally called me downstairs this afternoon, as I was taking a last look to Jack’s clothes, and especially to his buttons, poor lad—for it it not likely that any Welshwoman will understand such things—and who should be in the parlour but a female in widow’s clothes, sitting at our table with the parrot before her, like a poor savage worshipping an idol. She had taken it down from its hook outside, and carried it in, notwithstanding it had sworn at her in a manner dreadful to listen to, and was even then far from pacified. * “ Madam, I beg your pardon,” exclaimed the visitor, ** but this parrot is the most admirable bird ”

* •• Pooh, pooh I” cried Dick. * “ Its sagacity,” pursued the widow, ** is beyond all belief. Now, I dote npon parrots, especially black ones, that having been my beloved husband's favourite colour. And if I could only get possession of this admirable creature ” * " Kill the captain I—scuttle the ship 1” screamed Dick. '“By paying any compensation in reason, I should consider myself trniy fortunate. Of course, I'm taking a great liberty. I have no right to come into your house and open a negotiation of this kind—l am fully aware of the false position in which I have placed myself—still, a voice from beyond the tomb seems to have whispered to me ” * “ Tolderolol 1” exclaimed Dick, performing a succession of somersaults within his gilded ring. “Who's your hatter ! How's your poor feet!” * “ Seems to have whispered,” repeated the widow, calmly waiting until the bird had finished its remarks, “ Buy that

parrot; boy it, cage and all. Take it home and treat it Kindly.” It is impossible for me, madam, to neglect such a solemn intimation of the wishes of the departed. Five poo nds for the bird and two-ten for the eage is an offer which I think you will allow is handsome, and ought to be conclusive.” And with these words she took out her purse and laid down the money on the table. * I confess, Gsorge, that the sight of so much gold was not a little tempting ; but after just one look at it, I thanked her, and hade her put it back again, for that with us also the matter was one of feeling and memory, and that we conld not part with Dick upon any such consideration. * “ Ten for the bird and five for the cage,* observed the visitor with quiet distinctness, and doubling the sum already spread before me. I hesitated a moment, fairly fascinated by the glitter of all this treasure. I thought of a score of things that it would buy for you and the children and did not know what to do. ‘“Poor Dick, poor Dick, poor D'ck !’ reiterated the parrot mournfully. “ Give him a dozen, keel haul him, throw him overboard 1” * “ Madam,” cried I, “ I cannot sell that bird; so please do not tempt me any further." * Well, Lacy, and yon did quite right,* quoth I, kissing away a tear that lay upon her honest cheek. * And then I suppose the temptress took herself off !” * No,’ returned my wife, * she did not; and here comes the strangest part of the story, and that which may have most interest for you and me. “ Well, if you won’t sell your parrot,’" said the widow in the same determined way as before, and without any appearance of disappointment, “ will you lend it to me for a week in August next ! I will give yon ten guineas for the loan of it.” * * Lend it, Lucy 1* * That is certainly what she said, George ; and I replied that I would speak to you, and if she would call to morrow, at ten o’clock, let her know to what decision you had come.’ At first, I thought this offer ciuld not have proceeded from any but a madwoman, and made up my mind to refuse her request. She might do some harm to our parrot, and possibly even eat it; in which case, the law itself could afford us no redress. But, on second thoughts, I determined to see the woman myself, before rejecting so favourable a proposition. Accordingly, I delayed going to my usual place of business the next day until after the hour named by the mysterious visitor. As the clock struck ten, she rang the door-bell, and telling Sally not to be in a hurry in opening it, I made a recognizance through the parlour blind. The widow’s cap framed a quiet, resolute face, and hard, blue s /es, that certainly exhibited no trace of insanity ; her voice, as she snnkn to t.b« —i— • her garments were new and of good material. If appearances were to be trusted, she was not mad, and she was solvent—the two points about which I had naturally the greatest solicitude. *Mr Wilson, I conclude !* observed she, as she entered the parlour. *I am glad that I see you in person, so that there need be no more uncertainty about this little affair. I offered your wife ten guineas for the loan of your black parrot from the 6th to the 13th of August. I think that is a handsome week’s rent for any bird.’ * Madam,* returned I, * that is undoubtedly true; still, the proposition is such a very uncommon one, that you must pardon my hesitation in acceding to it. How do I know ’ * If yon require references as guarantees of my respectability, interrupted the widow, * you may have a bushel of them. My name is Hubble, I live at 884, Pitt-street. I was housekeeper to the late General Sir Fiddle Faddle for twenty years ; and my bankers are - the Messrs Child. If yon are merely curions to know why I want your parrot, that curiosity will not be gratified. Don’t be a fool, now. I am prepared to pay five guineas at once, on deposit, and in advance, to convince you that my intentions are in good faith. What would you have more!' * Nothing more, indeed,’ said I, taking up the money. * I am perfectly satisfied. Bat supposing that in the interim the poor parrot should ’ * Never say die I’ exclaimed Dick from his cage without. * Who’s afraid ? Chick, chick, chick, chick, chick 1’ I could not help laughing heartily at this apropos interruption, but the widow never moved a muscle. *lf it dies, you may keep the deposit. It is hard,* added she with a sort of spasm, * that poor folks should be disappointed in their expectations, through no fault of their own ; but as for their giving money back again, I think nobody ought to expect it. I have nothing farther to remark except that the whole arrangement is to be kept a dead secret. That may seem very whimsical perhaps, but then I am prepared to pay for my whims. It will be better that one of yon two should both bring Dick to Pitt-street and take him away again, and for this'tronble you shall have a guinea extra.’ She rose to leave the room, but while I held the door open for her, she suddenly observed : • By the bye, I don’t like the name of Dick; it’s vulgar. Have yon any nice little boy at home who has nothing particular to do, and will teach the parrot to speak of himself as “ Poor Tommy, Poor Tommy!” It is very easily done, and here is a little present for his future tntor.* She was gone in a moment, leaving in my wife’s hand a half sovereign wrapped up in silver paper; and all my apprehensions as to the state of her mind returned to me immediately with redoubled force. ‘She must be mad,’ thought I, * to scatter her gold about with such reckless profusion, and to entertain the idea that Tommy is a more aristocratic name than Dick.’ Nevertheless, the method of her madness being far from objectionable, and her references turning out to be most satisfactory, everything was done in accordance with the widow’s desire. Our youngest hope, incited by the magnitude of his reward, never ceased his monotonous task until the unfortunate bird was so far educated that if he did not substitute his new name for his old one, he at least used one as often as the other, and very often both in the same breath ; and when the 6th of August came, I took him in a cab to Pitt-street in a high state of exultation and strong language, and under the belief, as I think, that he was about to be shipped for the West ladies. On the 13tb, I brought him back again as glossy and bright as ever, and with the sum of £6 6i in my waistcoat pocket, as well as the price of the two cabs. Not a feather of him was missing ; he was as ugly, but not at all more so—which, indeed, was scarcely possible—than when he left ns. What he bad done to earn his hire, we could not possibly imagine.

When we naked him he answered, * Fiddle Faddle ’; a reply whieh at first quite terrified ns by its sagacious novelty, but presently we remembered that that had been the name of the general whose housekeeper the widow had been, and set it dowr merely as a new acquisition to Dick's vocabulary For years I took that parrot to Pitt street, and re ceived the eleven guineas per annum, and although wsuffered unch—especially Lucy—from the pangs of un gratified < iriosity, we had certainly cause to bless tha. sable bi> i Our pecuniary connection with Mrs Hubble did not make us in any degree more acquainted with her; she received and dismissed us always with the same frigid politeness; and when I met her by cbanc_> in the street at other times she made two stereotyped inquiries—first after Tommy's health, and secondly, after that of my wife, In the sixteenth year after our first loan of the parrot, and in the month of July, we received a visit from two strange gentlemen which was even more extraordinary in its results than that of the mysterious widow. It took place upon a Saturday afternoon, when I was accustomed to leave my employers’ house at an earlier hour than nsual, so that I happened to be at home ; had my wife been alone, she expresses her opinion that the interview would have been too much for her, and have cost her her reason. As it was, her head—to use her own words— * turned round like a teetotum,* and * she saw sparks,’ which it seems is a premonitory sign of mental aberration. And, judge now, whether, nnder the circumstances, this was to be wondered at. These two gentlemen, being strangers, and attired in sober garments, having rung the bell, lifted down the parrot, whose cage as nsual hung, outside the ground-floor window, and brought it with him into the parlour. * You must excuse our freedom/observed the elder of the two, who had a stiff white cravat, and looked like a family lawyer ; * but Tommy is a very old friend of ours,and we have known him a great deal longer than yon have.’ ' Indeed, gentlemen !' said I. ■ Then you must have been in the West Indies.' * I knew him there intimately well.’ returned the second gentleman, who was tightly buttoned up, and carried his head high, like a military man. * The general won him at pieqnet of the lieutenant-governor of Bar had new, having staked, upon his side, fifty guineas.’ ‘And I don’t think he wonld have afterward parted with him, major, for a thonsand pounds,* observed the other. * Dear me 1* said I. But I could not help thinking that he must have parted with him for a good deal less to my brother Dick; unless Dick stole him. This last idea so agitated me, that I did not catch quite clearly what was said for a minute or two. * The gentlemen want to know how it is that the parrot has forgotten the articles of war,' exclaimed my wife, touching my elbow ; then added, in a terrified whisper : * For Heaven's sake, get them ont of the house, George, they are both stark, staring mad.’ * The articles of war 1’ said I, ‘ I never knew he had learned them. Dick, Dick, why did you never repeat the articles of war f . * P ooh 1 KiU tlie captain — scuttle the ship F chuckled the parrot. * Now, that's very extraordinary, too,’ remarked the military stranger. * Where could he have picked up all that sea-slang ? Sir Fiddle was so very particular. He kept him in his own cabin all the way home ; and nobody under gunroom rank was allowed to associate with him.’

Some young scamp of a midshipman mast doubtless have done it on the sly,* returned the other. • Bui may I s«lr Mr Wilson, why you call him Dick f 7 ’ • Because that is his name,' observed I, simply. • I have no other reason whatever.’

' Bat it'a not hto name,* remarked the white-eravated gentleman confidently. * Hia name to Tommy, and has . forty y S a ?, : he to denominated Tommy in the codicil. lam sure Fiddle would have been very nnhappy at the notion of hto being called Dick. You mnat not encourage the bird in such senseless extravagances. The wishes of the departed should be consulted as though he were actually alive. We have nothing, however to complain of in your custody of the bird, Mr Wilson, quite the reverse. Indeed, poor Mrs Hubble informed us knew °* nobody to whom we could intrust the faithful creature with greater confidence; when we have called upon her by accident, and not at the specified time, we understood that you had poor Tommy in keeping for the benefit of his health ; and certainly you always sent him back to Pitt - street in high feather. Now that Mrs Babble to dead-(Did you not hear of it ’ Yes, the sad event took place more than ten days ago)—we do not know anybody fitter than yourself to whom to transfer this sacred charge. We came here to-day merely to identify the bird. In future, we shall visit you every 12sh of August—it was the general’s whitest day in the year, major, and aptly chosen; even paradise can be hardly a more charming spot to him than was hto Perthshire moor. We wish you a very good morning, Mr Wilson. Permit me to congratulate you upon this first instalment of what I trust may be a long annuity to you and yours. ’ He nressed an envelope into my hand, and then he and his starched companion took their deliberate departure. I watched them walking slowly np the street. They were evidently not in the least apprehensive of being followed and seized as madmen. _ One presently called a cab, and bade good-bye to the other in a studiously courteous manner, just as though they had been about some business which brought them together periodically, and made them acquaintances, without their ever becoming intimate friends. In the meantime my wife was witbin a sob or two of hysterics, while I remained standing with the envelope in my hand, and a crossed cheque inside of it for a hundred guineas, payable to myself or bearer ! Nothing out of the Arabian night*, where purses of sequins are flung about with such reckless prodigality, was surely to be compared to this adventure. ‘ What’s o’clock!’ cried the parrot, astonished at the stupefied silence into which his master had been plunged. • Exoelent bird,’ returned I, * your words are the words of wisdom. It to half-past two, and the Messrs Child close at three o clock ; there is not a moment to lose.’ I arrived at the banking-house in time to present the cheque; and it cashed without the least hesitation. I took my way back with more money in my pocket than I h&d ever possessed there in my life. My possession of it was a little certainly : but then, had not my father foretold that Dick s legacy would prove a blessing to us, and bade me mark his words. I was inclined to accept everything in the past and in the future with a grateful heart, that was mt disposed for question or analysis. It wasasayinz of my revered parent, when our cousin, the brewer’s clerk, used to send us a kilderkin of father inferior ae at Christmas time 9 that yon should never look a gift cask in the bunghole. If I had found a queen’s messenger waiting tor

me at borne with a patent of nobility made out in the name of Wilson, by reason of my proprietorship in that incomparable black parrot, I think I should have taken it as a matter of course. I did not, however, find a queen’s messenger, bnt, on the contrary, a porter from Furnival’s Inn, who had brought a letter with him, and declined to leave the house without seeing me; the contents were as follows: — Dear Sir: I wholly forgot when Major Mordax and myself called upon you this afternoon with the first instalment of your annuity, to ask for your signature to the inclosed receipt, which please to sign and return by bearer.—Yours truly, Nathaniel Povncet. The receipt was in the same envelope. Received of Mathew Mordax, Esq., and Nathaniel Pouncet, solicitor, executors of the late General Sir Fiddle Faddle, the sum of one hundred guineas, being the annual stipend left by the will of the said general for the maintenance of his black parrot Tommy. These dreadful words revealed at once the dark source of our prosperity, as the policeman’s lantern flashes on the implements of the burglar. I accompanied the messenger at once to Furnival’s Inn with the depressing consciousness that I had got to refund my little property. It seemed to be very hard and grievous that my vested rights, for such they already seemed, should be thus infringed. I at once, however, set forth every circumstance connected with the affair before Mr Nathaniel Pouncet. and had the satisfaction of perceiving that I was at least believed. * You are not to blame in this affair at all, Mr Wilson,’ said be ; * far from it. But for yonr honesty it is likely enough we should have paid you a hundred guineas a year for life. The late Mrs Hubble must have cheated us out of that amount for fifteen years—ever since she hired your parrot to represent the deceased favourite of the poor general. It was a housekeeper, too, I think, who kept a bishop alive, to all appearance, for six months after death, and drove something like him every day through his own cathedral town, in order that she might receive the half-yearly revenue of bis see. I really don’t know which was the worse case ; except that in the bishop’s ’ —here the lawyer smiled—- * there seems to have been no necessity for a substitute, and therefore the fraud was rather more negative or passive. You will not, of course, have to repay those sums, Mr Wilson, which this woman remitted to you upon false pretences, bnt which you did not, lam sure, suspect to be false. Of course I must receive the one hundred guineas ; but we will communicate upon that subject with the general’s heir-at-law, who will be glad to learn that this troublesome charge upon the estate no longer exists, and who has a heart to sympathise with your disappointment, as well as to appreciate your manly conduct.’ Finally, although my recompense for keeping my own parrot could not be entitled a long annuity, I received that refunded cheque for a hundred guineas ‘in token of the esteem entertained by Francis Faddle, Esq.,’ for my upright behaviour ; or, in other words, because I had not

been so fraudulent as Mrs Hubble. No wonder that she had been so anxious for our parrot’s company between the 6th and 13th of Angnst! No wonder that she bad thought Tommy a more becoming name for him than Diek ! What pleased my wife most of all in the whole transaction was that she had so sturdily refused to part with the dear bird for good and all. * What a rich reward has been given us for obeying the dictates of affection ! Whatever would you have said, George, had I sold our Dick for fifteen guineas at once, instead of receiving more than two hundred and sixty for, as it were, the interest of onr principal!’ * Well, Lucy, I should have said that you bad imitated that uneagacions housewife who killed her parrot for the sake of its golden eggs.’ * That was a goose, George,’ remarked my wife, a little stiff! v. * Fiddle Faddle, what’s the odds?' screamed Dick.