Tommy Tregennis. Mary Elizabeth Phillips
now at once, I shouldn’t be at all surprised if that wooden horse turned out to be for you, and not for Jimmy Prynne at all.”
At once Tommy lay down in bed and screwed up his eyes. Then, rubbing his forehead, “There ain’t no sleep there,” he said.
So the Blue Lady held one hot hand in hers, and sitting on the side of the cot sang many a nursery rhyme.
“Hush-a-bye, baby,” was sleepily demanded a second time.
“Hush-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green,
Thy father’s a nobleman, thy mother’s a queen;
Thy sister’s a lady and wears a gold ring,
And Johnnie’s a horseman, and rides for the king.”
“Was the horse called Dobbin?” Tommy asked, but before the answer came he was riding a kicking wooden steed in the wonderful land of dreams.
Later in the evening Tommy’s Ladies bought Dobbin. Mrs. Tregennis said that no fisher-child in Draeth had ever before possessed such a toy. It was dapple-grey and very strong; it moved on wheels and was high enough from the ground for a boy of five to sit astride, slip his feet into the stirrups, and so prepare to set out on great adventures.
Tommy was downstairs in his night-shirt at five o’clock the next morning. He sat on Dobbin’s back, kissed his carmine nostrils, poked his glassy eyes, and wished to waken up the Prynne household to show Jimmy Prynne his treasure and assert to him emphatically that Dobbin was his, Tommy’s, and his alone.
From this course, however, his mother dissuaded him. She told him that as yet the horse did not belong to him; until it had been given to him, he was certainly not justified in calling it his own.
“Perhaps after all,” Mrs. Tregennis demurred, “it may be for some other little boy in Draeth.”
“No, Mammy, no; the ladies said it was to be for me if I slept tight. They said so, Mammy, they said it was mine.”
To make quite sure of ownership, however, Tommy hurried up the two flights of stairs and with both clenched fists hammered on the bedroom door. “My ladies, my ladies; is the Dobbin for me?”
He returned to the kitchen triumphant, and convicted Mammy of lack of faith.
When breakfast was over Tommy led Dobbin proudly up and down the alley by the real leather reins. Three—then four—five—six—seven children followed the horse and his master.
WHEN BREAKFAST WAS OVER, TOMMY LED DOBBIN PROUDLY UP AND DOWN THE ALLEY.
Then Jimmy Prynne stepped forward: “Tell ee what, Tommy Tregennis, ’ll give ee two cherries to ride him wanst down.”
This bargain was concluded.
Ruby Dark parted with three treasured rusty pins for the privilege of herself leading Dobbin three steps, one pin for each step. Although she made her strides as long as possible her turn was soon over, and other contracts were entertained.
In half-an-hour’s time the Tregennis household was richer by three rusty pins, one screw, one length of stamp-edging, one dead rose, a parrot’s feather and a piece of string.
After lunch that day the ladies left. Tommy smiled until they had turned the corner, then a sudden despair seized him and he screamed with grief. Dobbin’s placid, glassy stare irritated him so much that he hit him full in the face with his open palm. Afterwards in a fit of remorse he flung his arms around the wooden neck and sobbed bitterly into the flowing mane. Ten minutes later he and Dobbin slept together on the kitchen floor.
The house seemed strangely quiet to Mrs. Tregennis when the ladies had gone. No other visitors had become so much a part of the household.
A few days later the three gentlemen also left Draeth, and Mrs. Tregennis prepared her house for the winter months. All the ornaments from the sitting-rooms were wrapped up in paper and put away in a box under the bed. The curtains and blinds were washed and folded carefully to be in readiness for the spring; the Brussels carpet upstairs was well swept and overlaid with newspapers; the velvet mantel-border was turned up and brushed, and it, too, was swathed in a paper covering. The best knives, spoons and forks were folded separately in tissue paper and locked away in the cupboard underneath the stairs.
When all these preparations were complete Mrs. Tregennis realized that winter was indeed upon them.
CHAPTER V
ALTHOUGH Miss Lavinia’s door was sorely in need of a coat of paint, no house in Draeth had a brighter knocker, and no door-step was whiter than hers. The twenty boys and girls who were Miss Lavinia’s pupils had learned to respect the whiteness of this step, and on muddy days they jumped over it so that no footprint should mar its cleanliness. More than twenty children Miss Lavinia could not take. The back sitting-room was used as the schoolroom. There were tables and chairs for the children with the longest legs, while the very little ones sat on the two low window-seats.
Tommy loved going to school, and he was never late. At twenty minutes to nine each morning he left home, his face shining with soap and his hair neatly brushed. On his way he almost always called for Ruthie, who was now only his cousin, but who in the future was to be his wife. Hand in hand the two children ran round the twists and corners of the narrow alleys, until they were in Main Street itself. At the top of Main Street, this side of the bridge, stood Miss Lavinia’s house. At this time of day the shabby green door stood wide open, and in the narrow rather dark passage one saw the low wooden pegs on which the children hung hats and jackets as they entered.
When the new Guildhall clock struck nine Miss Lavinia walked into the schoolroom, and the twenty children, standing in their places, made a little bobbing curtsy and wished her “Good morning.” Then when all the hands were clasped and all eyes tightly closed they said “Our Father” together, and after this sang a hymn led by Miss Lavinia’s sweet though trembling voice.
Tommy enjoyed the hymn-singing very much. He had absolutely no idea of tune, but as he learned the words very quickly that did not matter, and his voice could always be heard above the rest.
His quite favourite hymn was one about Angels in Heaven, and with great energy he sang, “Bright songs they sing, sweet harps they hold,” but (if Miss Lavinia had only known!) his interpretation was “sweethearts they hold.” Of harps he was quite ignorant, but his Mammy often called him “sweetheart.” He had a very vivid picture of a chorus of Angels all with golden hair, white robes and beautiful wings. They sang songs all day long, and each held by the hand a little boy. In his fancy all the boys were very much like Tommy Tregennis, as Tommy Tregennis appeared to himself in the looking-glass that hung by the kitchen sink.
His second favourite hymn was “Shall we gather at the river?” for Angels came in that, too. He wished the verses did not leave it quite so indefinite as to what it was that was gathered; after a little thought he decided that it must be grasses and forget-me-nots and dismissed the subject from his mind.
Once he did speak to Miss Lavinia about it. “It means they meet together, Tommy,” she explained.
“Meet to gather?” asked Tommy.
“Yes,” replied Miss Lavinia, and Tommy’s difficulty remained.
Although Miss Lavinia had no time-table to refer to, all the children were kept busily occupied in one way or another from nine o’clock until twelve.
The first lesson was writing when for half-an-hour or so slate-pencils squeaked unremittingly. The older boys and girls copied from a book, but those who sat on the window-seats had a line set at the top of the slate, and this they wrote out eight times below. During