Pollyooly. Edgar Jepson
again and again that your method of grilling bacon shows undoubted genius," said the Honorable John Ruffin sententiously; and then his kindly gray eyes grew keen as he added, "But how does your brother Roger, a child of even tenderer years than your own, come to be a well-spring of deceit."
"I'm not going to let him go to the workhouse," said Pollyooly.
"A laudable ambition. Am I to take it that the ten shillings a week which I and Mr. Gedge-Tomkins pay you stands between your brother and the workhouse?" said the Honorable John Ruffin.
"I've saved up twenty-one shillings, and there's twenty-two shillings aunt had saved," said Pollyooly with a note of courage in her tone, inspired by the greatness of the sums.
"Am I to understand that you have saved twenty-one shillings out of the ten shillings a week Mr. Gedge-Tomkins and I have paid you during the last three weeks?"
"Mr. Gedge-Tomkins has just paid me seven shillings when he discharged me," said Pollyooly.
"So Mr. Gedge-Tomkins discharged you on information received from Mrs. Meeken, did he? A lofty-minded fellow," said the Honorable John Ruffin; and his gray eyes darkened as they sparkled. "And so now only five shillings a week stand between the Lump and the workhouse?"
"Yes, sir," said Pollyooly.
"Ours is a wonderful civilization!" said the Honorable John Ruffin with warm enthusiasm. "I trust, Pollyooly, that you are properly thankful that you are a happy English child, living in the heart of the greatest and wealthiest city the world has ever known."
"Yes, sir," said Pollyooly a little doubtfully.
He asked Pollyooly how much she paid in rent, how much she spent on food and clothes; then he drew a small handful of silver from his pocket, looked at it, frowned, and said sadly, "Lean years—lean years."
He reflected for a moment; then he said, "As I expected, rent is your chief burden. I suppose you occupy a furnished apartment."
"Oh, no, sir, there aren't any furnished apartments at three shillings a week. Aunt Hannah brought her own furniture from Muttle-Deeping," said Pollyooly, somewhat apathetically. The subject, at the moment, had little interest for her; she was awaiting sentence.
The Honorable John Ruffin's face cleared. "That does simplify matters," he said in a cheerful tone. "Now I have had a great deal of experience for my years—which are not as many, Pollyooly, as I am sure you believe—and my advice to a young man or young woman beginning the world is first of all to have a good address. That's what you need, Pollyooly—a good address."
"Yes, sir," said Pollyooly.
"How would it be if you came to live here?"
"But—but aren't I to go? Are you keeping me on, sir?" stammered Pollyooly; and she stared at him with amazed eyes, as if she could not believe her ears, which was, indeed, the case.
"Of course, I'm keeping you on," said the Honorable John Ruffin in some surprise. "Your transcendent power of grilling bacon has touched my heart. Besides, for generations my family has been patrons of genius."
In her relief Pollyooly gave a great gasp, and then she burst out crying. The Honorable John Ruffin looked at her with an expression of extreme discomfort for a minute or two; then he rose, patted her gently on the shoulder, and begged her to stop.
Tears were really foreign to Pollyooly's strenuous nature, and they soon ceased. The Honorable John Ruffin resumed his seat with an air of considerable relief.
He went on with his breakfast, till she grew quite calm. Then he said, "Well, Seventy-five, the King's Bench Walk is a very good address—it is my own. If you and your brother, who, as I gather from his name, is a boy of pacific tendencies, were to remove your furniture to the garret above this room, and take up your abodes there, you would be supplied with that indispensable requirement to a successful modern career. Moreover, I have long felt that it is absolutely wrong, in the present congested condition of housing in central London, to keep that garret empty. It is an airy room, but a good oil stove in the winter would make it quite habitable for the young and hardy."
"But the rent, sir … a room like that," gasped Pollyooly.
"Yes; I could not charge you less than a shilling a week rent owing to the economic law of supply and demand. Intrinsically it can not be worth sixpence. Yet who am I to fly in the face of Political Economy? But as I have for some time intended to raise your salary, as a mark of my appreciation of your skill in grilling bacon, to six shillings a week you will be able to pay a shilling a week, and still save three shillings. So that puts the matter on a purely business footing. There is no obligation on either side."
"Oh, sir," said Pollyooly breathlessly.
"You had better have your furniture brought in as soon as possible; and as is the custom of intelligent London landlords, I will pay the cost of its removal."
"Oh, thank you, sir," said Pollyooly; and her eyes shone on him with a devouring gratitude.
"Not a word, not a word," said the Honorable John Ruffin, with a graceful wave of his hand. "Business is business. I have no doubt that with this good address you will soon get another post as laundress, and double your income."
For a while Pollyooly did not know whether she stood on her head or her heels so great were her joy and relief at the passing of the black cloud which had lowered over their fortunes. Her fingers, usually so deft, fumbled the crockery; and she nearly let a plate fall. Her nimble feet stumbled twice on the stairs. There was a fine flush on her cheeks; and her eyes shone all the while.
When she had finished her morning's work she hurried to Mrs. Brown with the joyful news. Mrs. Brown was delighted by Pollyooly's good fortune, and then she was saddened by the thought that she would enjoy less of the society of the Lump, who had been wont to spend with her the hours during which Pollyooly worked. Pollyooly comforted her by telling her that she would bring the Lump to visit her as often as she liked: Then Mrs. Brown said that she had always expected it, that all was well that ended well, and that Heaven helped those that helped themselves.
Then Pollyooly sought out the father of Henry Wiggins, who earned a somewhat precarious livelihood by doing odd jobs about the Temple, and after some stern bartering arranged with him to transfer her belongings from the attic in Alsatia to the attic in the King's Bench Walk for the sum of three shillings.
Then she betook herself to that attic, taking the Lump with her, and set about scrubbing and cleaning it with joyous vigor. Now and again she had to stop to hug the Lump and tell him yet once more the story of their good fortune.
By four o'clock she had finished cleaning it. The walls must have been whitewashed within the last two or three months, because after she had brushed them they were quite white. Then Mr. Wiggins in three journeys carried her heavier belongings up to the attic and she carried the smaller ones. At half-past five she and the Lump took their tea in one of the cleanest attics in central London.
The Honorable John Rufiin learned that Pollyooly and the Lump had taken up their quarters in their new home by hearing them moving about overhead on his first awakening. He turned over and went to sleep again peacefully, quite untroubled by any doubts about the results of his philanthropy.
When Pollyooly brought him his bacon, he said, "So you have established yourselves in your new quarters, Pollyooly?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," said Pollyooly; and her eyes shone on him gratefully.
He gazed at her with a considerable pleasure, for he was not one of those on whose æsthetic sensibilities the possession of an angel child as Temple laundress could pall.
Then he said, "On consideration, Pollyooly, I have come to the conclusion that, now that you have become my resident housekeeper, you can no longer be truly reckoned a Temple laundress."
"No, sir," said Pollyooly.
The Honorable John Ruffin surveyed her gravely for a minute; then he went on, "Moreover