THE PORTER'S SON [2]
out of the house," said George's mother.
"It is not easy to find a master who has room for him at night, and we
shall have to provide him with clothes too. The little bit of eating
that he wants can be managed for him, for he's quite happy with a
few boiled potatoes; and he gets taught for nothing. Let the boy go
his own way. You will say that he will be our joy some day, and the
Professor says so too."
The confirmation suit was ready. The mother had worked it herself;
but the tailor who did repairs had cut them out, and a capital
cutter-out he was.
"If he had had a better position, and been able to keep a workshop
and journeymen," the porter's wife said, "he might have been a court
tailor."
The clothes were ready, and the candidate for confirmation was
ready. On his confirmation day, George received a great pinchbeck
watch from his godfather, the old iron monger's shopman, the richest
of his godfathers. The watch was an old and tried servant. It always
went too fast, but that is better than to be lagging behind. That
was a costly present. And from the General's apartment there arrived a
hymn-book bound in morocco, sent by the little lady to whom George had
given pictures. At the beginning of the book his name was written, and
her name, as "his gracious patroness." These words had been written at
the dictation of the General's lady, and the General had read the
inscription, and pronounced it "Charming!"
"That is really a great attention from a family of such position,"
said the porter's wife; and George was sent up stairs to show
himself in his confirmation clothes, with the hymn-book in his hand.
The General's lady was sitting very much wrapped up, and had the
bad headache she always had when time hung heavy upon her hands. She
looked at George very pleasantly, and wished him all prosperity, and
that he might never have her headache. The General was walking about
in his dressing-gown. He had a cap with a long tassel on his head, and
Russian boots with red tops on his feet. He walked three times up
and down the room, absorbed in his own thoughts and recollections, and
then stopped and said:
"So little George is a confirmed Christian now. Be a good man, and
honor those in authority over you. Some day, when you are an old
man, you can say that the General gave you this precept."
That was a longer speech than the General was accustomed to
make, and then he went back to his ruminations, and looked very
aristocratic. But of all that George heard and saw up there, little
Miss Emily remained most clear in his thoughts. How graceful she
was, how gentle, and fluttering, and pretty she looked. If she were to
be drawn, it ought to be on a soap-bubble. About her dress, about
her yellow curled hair, there was a fragrance as of a fresh-blown
rose; and to think that he had once divided his bread and butter
with her, and that she had eaten it with enormous appetite, and nodded
to him at every second mouthful! Did she remember anything about it?
Yes, certainly, for she had given him the beautiful hymn-book in
remembrance of this; and when the first new moon in the first new year
after this event came round, he took a piece of bread, a penny, and
his hymn-book, and went out into the open air, and opened the book
to see what psalm he should turn up. It was a psalm of praise and
thanksgiving. Then he opened the book again to see what would turn
up for little Emily. He took great pains not to open the book in the
place where the funeral hymns were, and yet he got one that referred
to the grave and death. But then he thought this was not a thing in
which one must believe; for all that he was startled when soon
afterwards the pretty little girl had to lie in bed, and the
doctor's carriage stopped at the gate every day.
"They will not keep her with them," said the porter's wife. "The
good God knows whom He will summon to Himself."
But they kept her after all; and George drew pictures and
"It is not easy to find a master who has room for him at night, and we
shall have to provide him with clothes too. The little bit of eating
that he wants can be managed for him, for he's quite happy with a
few boiled potatoes; and he gets taught for nothing. Let the boy go
his own way. You will say that he will be our joy some day, and the
Professor says so too."
The confirmation suit was ready. The mother had worked it herself;
but the tailor who did repairs had cut them out, and a capital
cutter-out he was.
"If he had had a better position, and been able to keep a workshop
and journeymen," the porter's wife said, "he might have been a court
tailor."
The clothes were ready, and the candidate for confirmation was
ready. On his confirmation day, George received a great pinchbeck
watch from his godfather, the old iron monger's shopman, the richest
of his godfathers. The watch was an old and tried servant. It always
went too fast, but that is better than to be lagging behind. That
was a costly present. And from the General's apartment there arrived a
hymn-book bound in morocco, sent by the little lady to whom George had
given pictures. At the beginning of the book his name was written, and
her name, as "his gracious patroness." These words had been written at
the dictation of the General's lady, and the General had read the
inscription, and pronounced it "Charming!"
"That is really a great attention from a family of such position,"
said the porter's wife; and George was sent up stairs to show
himself in his confirmation clothes, with the hymn-book in his hand.
The General's lady was sitting very much wrapped up, and had the
bad headache she always had when time hung heavy upon her hands. She
looked at George very pleasantly, and wished him all prosperity, and
that he might never have her headache. The General was walking about
in his dressing-gown. He had a cap with a long tassel on his head, and
Russian boots with red tops on his feet. He walked three times up
and down the room, absorbed in his own thoughts and recollections, and
then stopped and said:
"So little George is a confirmed Christian now. Be a good man, and
honor those in authority over you. Some day, when you are an old
man, you can say that the General gave you this precept."
That was a longer speech than the General was accustomed to
make, and then he went back to his ruminations, and looked very
aristocratic. But of all that George heard and saw up there, little
Miss Emily remained most clear in his thoughts. How graceful she
was, how gentle, and fluttering, and pretty she looked. If she were to
be drawn, it ought to be on a soap-bubble. About her dress, about
her yellow curled hair, there was a fragrance as of a fresh-blown
rose; and to think that he had once divided his bread and butter
with her, and that she had eaten it with enormous appetite, and nodded
to him at every second mouthful! Did she remember anything about it?
Yes, certainly, for she had given him the beautiful hymn-book in
remembrance of this; and when the first new moon in the first new year
after this event came round, he took a piece of bread, a penny, and
his hymn-book, and went out into the open air, and opened the book
to see what psalm he should turn up. It was a psalm of praise and
thanksgiving. Then he opened the book again to see what would turn
up for little Emily. He took great pains not to open the book in the
place where the funeral hymns were, and yet he got one that referred
to the grave and death. But then he thought this was not a thing in
which one must believe; for all that he was startled when soon
afterwards the pretty little girl had to lie in bed, and the
doctor's carriage stopped at the gate every day.
"They will not keep her with them," said the porter's wife. "The
good God knows whom He will summon to Himself."
But they kept her after all; and George drew pictures and