Masterman Ready [78]
is, caught in his own trap."
"And there shall he remain all day, the little glutton!" said Mr. Seagrave.
"Yes, it will serve him right," replied Mrs. Seagrave; "and be a lesson to him."
Mr. Seagrave, Ready, and William, as usual, went down to their work; Mrs. Seagrave and Juno, with little Caroline, were busy indoors. Tommy remained very quiet for an hour, when he commenced roaring; but it was of no use, no one paid any attention to him. At dinner-time he began to roar again, but with as little success: it was not till the evening that the door of the hen-house was opened, and Tommy permitted to come out. He looked very foolish; and sat down in a corner without speaking.
"Well, Tommy, how many eggs did you suck to-day" said Ready.
"Tommy won't suck eggs any more," said the urchin.
"No, you had better not," replied Mr. Seagrave, "or you will find, in the end, that you will have less to eat, instead of more, as you have this day."
Tommy waited very quietly and very sulkily till supper was ready, when he made up for lost time. After which Ready continued his narrative.
"I told you, William, that I was informed by the gentleman on the coach that my mother had died of a broken heart, in consequence of my supposed death. I was in agony until I arrived at Newcastle, where I could ascertain all the facts connected with her decease. When the coach stopped, the gentleman, who had remained outside, came to the coach door, and said to me, `If I mistake not, you are Masterman Ready, who ran away to sea; are you not?' `Yes, sir,' replied I, very sorrowfully, `I am.' `Well, my man,' said he, `cheer up; when you went away you were young and thoughtless, and certainly had no idea that you would have distressed your mother as you did. It was not your going to sea, but the report of your death, which preyed so much upon her mind; and that was not your fault. You must come with me, as I have something to say to you.'
"`I will call upon you to-morrow, sir,' replied I; `I cannot do anything until I talk to the neighbours and visit my poor mother's grave. It is very true that I did not intend to distress my mother; and that the report of my death was no fault of mine. But I cannot help feeling that, if I had not been so thoughtless, she would be still alive and happy.' The gentleman gave me his address, and I promised to call upon him next morning. I then went to the house my mother used to live in. I knew that she was not there; yet I was disappointed and annoyed when I heard merry laughter within. I looked in, for the door was open; in the corner where my mother used to sit, there was a mangle, and two women busily at work; others were ironing at a large table; and when they cried out to me, `What do you want?' and laughed at me, I turned away in disgust, and went to a neighbouring cottage, the inmates of which had been very intimate with my mother. I found the wife at home, but she did not know me; and I told her who I was. She had attended my mother during her illness, till the day of her death; and she told me all I wished to know. It was some little relief to my mind to hear that my poor mother could not have lived, as she had an incurable cancer; but at the same time the woman told me that I was ever in her thoughts, and that my name was the last word on her lips. She also said that Mr. Masterman had been very kind to my mother, and that she had wanted nothing. I then asked her to show me where my mother had been buried. She put on her bonnet, and led me to the grave, and then, at my request, she left me. I seated myself down by the mound of turf which covered her, and long and bitterly did I weep her loss and pray for forgiveness.
"It was quite dark when I left the spot and went back to the cottage of the kind woman who had attended my mother. I conversed with her and her husband till late, and then, as they offered me a bed, I remained with them that night. Next morning I went to keep my appointment with the gentleman whom I had met in the coach: I found by the brass plate on the door that he was a lawyer.
"And there shall he remain all day, the little glutton!" said Mr. Seagrave.
"Yes, it will serve him right," replied Mrs. Seagrave; "and be a lesson to him."
Mr. Seagrave, Ready, and William, as usual, went down to their work; Mrs. Seagrave and Juno, with little Caroline, were busy indoors. Tommy remained very quiet for an hour, when he commenced roaring; but it was of no use, no one paid any attention to him. At dinner-time he began to roar again, but with as little success: it was not till the evening that the door of the hen-house was opened, and Tommy permitted to come out. He looked very foolish; and sat down in a corner without speaking.
"Well, Tommy, how many eggs did you suck to-day" said Ready.
"Tommy won't suck eggs any more," said the urchin.
"No, you had better not," replied Mr. Seagrave, "or you will find, in the end, that you will have less to eat, instead of more, as you have this day."
Tommy waited very quietly and very sulkily till supper was ready, when he made up for lost time. After which Ready continued his narrative.
"I told you, William, that I was informed by the gentleman on the coach that my mother had died of a broken heart, in consequence of my supposed death. I was in agony until I arrived at Newcastle, where I could ascertain all the facts connected with her decease. When the coach stopped, the gentleman, who had remained outside, came to the coach door, and said to me, `If I mistake not, you are Masterman Ready, who ran away to sea; are you not?' `Yes, sir,' replied I, very sorrowfully, `I am.' `Well, my man,' said he, `cheer up; when you went away you were young and thoughtless, and certainly had no idea that you would have distressed your mother as you did. It was not your going to sea, but the report of your death, which preyed so much upon her mind; and that was not your fault. You must come with me, as I have something to say to you.'
"`I will call upon you to-morrow, sir,' replied I; `I cannot do anything until I talk to the neighbours and visit my poor mother's grave. It is very true that I did not intend to distress my mother; and that the report of my death was no fault of mine. But I cannot help feeling that, if I had not been so thoughtless, she would be still alive and happy.' The gentleman gave me his address, and I promised to call upon him next morning. I then went to the house my mother used to live in. I knew that she was not there; yet I was disappointed and annoyed when I heard merry laughter within. I looked in, for the door was open; in the corner where my mother used to sit, there was a mangle, and two women busily at work; others were ironing at a large table; and when they cried out to me, `What do you want?' and laughed at me, I turned away in disgust, and went to a neighbouring cottage, the inmates of which had been very intimate with my mother. I found the wife at home, but she did not know me; and I told her who I was. She had attended my mother during her illness, till the day of her death; and she told me all I wished to know. It was some little relief to my mind to hear that my poor mother could not have lived, as she had an incurable cancer; but at the same time the woman told me that I was ever in her thoughts, and that my name was the last word on her lips. She also said that Mr. Masterman had been very kind to my mother, and that she had wanted nothing. I then asked her to show me where my mother had been buried. She put on her bonnet, and led me to the grave, and then, at my request, she left me. I seated myself down by the mound of turf which covered her, and long and bitterly did I weep her loss and pray for forgiveness.
"It was quite dark when I left the spot and went back to the cottage of the kind woman who had attended my mother. I conversed with her and her husband till late, and then, as they offered me a bed, I remained with them that night. Next morning I went to keep my appointment with the gentleman whom I had met in the coach: I found by the brass plate on the door that he was a lawyer.