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December 17, 1881. <t0.+i:GOLDEN DAYS:e => 21
early being taken from my young mas- | with a message to Master Drift that some Of course that had no effect. What
assage belonged to the head master,
and whether that awful being was being
fetched to punish him for his crime of
driving the cab.
He wondered who the boy was who
put his head in at the door and drew it
back again.
With what reverential eyes he follow-
ed that hero’s retreating form, and how
he hung on his whistling!
When would he, he wondered, be sut-
ficiently hardy to whistle within those
awful walls?
hen he wondered if he was the only
new boy, and if so, whether every one
would stare at him and laugh at his new
coat. He wished he’d got his old one
on, then he wouldn’t have felt so brand-
new. And then—and then—
But here, tired out with his long jour-
ney and the excitement of the day, a
drowsy fit came over him, and, withou
another thought, he dropped off to sleep
where he sat. In this attitude the house-
keeper found him when she returned.
She could not help feeling rather more
than a common interest in this curly-
haired, tired-out little fellow, as he sat
there in his new clothes, huddled up,
with his little hat slipping from his head,
and his hand clasping his precious six-
bladed knife.
‘Accustomed as she was to boys and
their rude ways, this matron had a goo
deal of softness left in her heart, and I
dare say she thought, as she watched
Charlie that afternoon, that if she had
ever had a son of her own she would
have liked a boy something like the lit-
tle fellow before her.
She went softly up to him, took his hat
from its perilous situation, and, lifting
him in her strong arms so gently as not
to wake him, laid him on her own sofa,
and left him there to enjoy his well-
merited sleep, while she busied herself
about making tea.
It was at this moment_that a calamity
befell me, which, in my inexperience of
the ways and natures of watches, I im-
agined to be nothing short of fatal.
The excitement through which I had
passed, and the rough-and-ready usage
on
ter, whom already I had learned to love
as my best, though my roughest, friend.
How long I lay thus, speechless and
helpless, I cannot say. Once I was just
conscious of a light jerk from my chain
as he peeped in, and whispered :
“What are you so quiet about down
there?”
Of course I could not answer.
“Do you hear? What are youso quiet
about?”
It only added to my misery to know
that there was a fellow-being so close at
hand, and yet that I was powerless to
make him aware of my condition. My
silence offended him, for he turned away,
muttering to himself.
“Sulky humbug! I declare some peo-
le havyen’t so much as the manners of a
kitchen clock.’’
After that I was left to myself, inagony
and suspense, to wait the moment of my
dissolution,
A long time passed before my master
stirred, and when he did, the housekeep-
er’s tea was cold. She bustled about to
make him some more, and was so kind
in buttering his toast and hunting for
some jam, that the drooping spirits of
the tired-out boy revived wonderfully.
Indeed, as the meal proceeded, he be-
came on friendly and confidential terms
even with so awful a personage as Mrs.
Packer.
“Would you like to see my knife,
ma’am ?”’ he asked.
“Bless me, what a knife it is!” cried
the lady. ““ You’ll go doing yourself
some harm with it.’”
«“That’s what the other old lady in the
train said,” replied Charlie, unconscious
of wounding the feelings of his hostess,
who fondly imagined she was not more
than middle-aged; “but then, you
know, she thought it was a fine knife,
and I think so, too, don’t you? Lsay,
ma’am, do you know Torn Drift?”
The change of subject was so sudden
that Mrs. Packer stared at the boy, half
wondering whether he was not talking
in his sleep.
“What about him?” she inquired.
7H" TWO BOYS KNELT BEFORE THE FIRE, WITH ME BETWEEN THEM,”
to which I had been subjected during
the day, seemed all of a sudden to over-
power me,
In some unaccountable way I found
my hands caught together in a manner I
had never known them to be before; no
effort of mine could disengage them, and
the exertion thus required, added to the
fatigues of the day, produced a sort of
paralysis of my whole system, without
quite losing consciousness,
I could feel my circulation become
slower, and finally stop; my nerves and
ghergies became suspended, and. my
hands grew numb and powerless. Even
my heart ceased to beat, and the little
ery of alarm which I gave just before
my powers left me, failed to bring me
any help. o
I was ill—very ill, indeed! To me it
seemed as if my last moment had come,
and I could not bear the thought of thus
‘Oh, only the old lady was his mother,
and I promised her—at least she said—
do you know Tom Drift, ma’am ?”
sTo-be-sure! he’s one of the boys
here.”
“Yes, I say, ma’am, might I see Tom
Drift, do you think? I’ve got something
to say to him.”
Mrs. Packer, wholly at a loss to under-
stand her youthful guest, but at the
same time disposed to be indulgent to
his little whims, said Tom would be at
lessons now, and she didn’t think he
would be able to come.
«“ Wouldn't it doin the morning?”
“Oh, no,” said Charlie, with the grav-
est face. ‘I must see him’ to-night,
please, if you don’t mind.”
The housekeeper concluded that Char-
lie had some important message from
the mother to her son, and therefore
one wanted to see him.
In avery little time that hero made
his appearance, and as he was the first
Randlebury boy Charlie had set eyes on,
he appeared for a moment a very awful
and a very sublime personage in that
little new boy’seyes. But Charlie was too
intent on his mission to allow himself to
be quite overawed.
“Here’s a new boy, Master Drift,
wants to speak to you.”
“What do you want, young
un—eh ?””
“Oh, it’s all right, Tom Drift ;
only I saw your mother, you
know, in the train, and she said
you were a nice boy, d she
sent her love, and I told her I’d
let you know the time when- -
ever you wanted, because you
ain’t got a watch, you know,
and I have. I say, would you
ike to know the time, Tom
Drift ?””
All this was rattled out with
such eager volubility that Tom
Drift, hero as he was, was fairly },
taken aback, and looked quite
sheepish, as the beaming boy
proceeded to pull me out of his
Ket.
oket.
“Well, it’s just—bullo!”
Tie saw in an instant some-
thing was wrong.
“Why, it says only half-past
six—that must be wrong !”’
“Tt’s eight o’clock by the hall-
clock,” said Mrs. Packer. ‘It’s
ust now struck.”
Charlie looked at me, opened
me, held me to his ear, and then
exclaimed :
“Oh, my watch has stopped!
my watch has stopped! What
shall I do?”
And the poor boy, overwhelmed with
his misfortune, held me out appealingly,
and scarcely restrained the tears which
started to his eyes.
CITAPTER IV.
HOW I WAS CURED OF MY AILMENTS,
AND HOW MY MASTER BEGAN
LIFE AT RANDLEBURY.
All this while Tom Drift had said
nothing, but had stood regarding
first my master and then me, with
mingled amusement, pity and aston-
ishment.
At last, when poor Charlie fairly
thrust me into his hands, that he
might sce with his own eyes the
calamity which had befallen the
watch that had been destined to
minister such consolation to his time-
inquiring mind, he took me gin-
gerly, and stared at meas if I had
been a toad or a dead rat.
“Can’t you make it go, Tom Drift?
Please do!”
“ow can 1 make him go? I
don’t know what’s the row.”
“Do you think it would be a good
thing to wind it up?” asked Charlie.
“Don't know; you night try.””
Charlie did wind me up, but that
was not what I wanted. . Already I
had had that done while waiting at
Gunborough Junction.
“What do you say to shaking
him?” asked Tom Drift, presently.
Most people spoke of meas “ it,”
but Tom Drift always called me
“him? |
“T hardly like,” said Charlie; you
try.”
Tom took me and solemnly shook
me; it was no use. I still remained
speechless and helpless.
“Suppose we shove his. wheels
on?” next suggested that sage philo-
sopher.
Charlie demurred a little bit at this.
Itseemed almost too bold aremedy even
for him. TIlowever, he yielded to Toin’s
superior judgment.
The heir of the house of Drift accord-
ingly took a pin from the lining of his
jacket, and taking off my coat and waist-
coat, proceeded first to prod one of my
wheels and then another, but in vain.
They just moved for an instant, but
halted again, as stiff and lifeless as ever.
Fora moment the profound Tom seem-
ed baffled, then at last a brilliant idea
occurred to him.
“T tell you what, I expect he’s got
damp or cold or something. We'd bet-
ter warm him.”
And the two boys knelt before the fire
with me between them, turning me at
the end of my chain so as to get the
warmth on all sides, like a leg of mut-
rang for a servant, whom she dispatched ton on a spit.
was to be done? No winding up, no
shaking, no irritation of my wheels with
a pin, no warming of me at the fire,
could avail anything. They were ready
to give me up. Suddenly, however,
Tom, who had been examining my face
minutely, burst into a loud laugh.
“What a young donkey you are!” he
cried. ‘Don’t you see his hands are
“po TAKE THE WATCH, PLEASE.”
caught? That’s what’s the matter. The
minute-hand’s got bent, and can‘t get
over the hour-hand. You're a nice chap
to have a watch!”
It might have occurred to Charlie (as
it did to ine) that whatever sort of watch-
owner the former might be, a boy who
successively shook, tickled, and roasted
me to get me to go, was hardly the one
to lecture. him on_ his failings;: but my
master was too delighted at the prospect.
of having his treasure cured to be very
critical of the physician. And this time,
at last, Tom Drift had found the real
cause of my indisposition,
In endeavoring to pass one another at
half-past six my two hands had become
entangled, and refusing to proceed in
company, had stopped where they were,
stopping my circufafion, and, indecd,
ny animation at the same time.
Once imore the astute Tom produced
his pin, and sticking it under the end of
my minute-hand, disengaged it from its
fellow, and bent it back into its proper
osition. Instantly, as if by magic, the
ife rushed back into my body, my cir-
culation started afresh, and my heart
beat its old beat. -
Charlie set upa shout of jubilation,
and almost hugged Toin in his gratitude.
The latter looked very wise and very
condesecending—as had he not a right ?—
and banding me back to my master,
said, with the air of a physician pre-
scribing a course of treatment for a con-
valescent patient :
you’d better shove himon to the
right time, and then keep him quiet,
young un, .
This Charlie did, and it would be hard
to say which of us two was the happier
at that moment.
{ had scarcely been deposited once
more into my accustomed ket when
aloud bell sounded down the corridors,
and made Tom Drift jump as if he had
been shot,
“Tsay, that’s the prayer-bell! Come
on, unless you want to get intoa jolly
row.””
And without further words he seized
the astonished Charlie by the arm, and
ran with him at full speed along one or
two empty passages, dashing at last in
through a big door, which was in the
very act of closing as the two reached it.
Charlie was so confused, and so out of
breath with this astonishing and frantic
race, that for aininute he did not know
whether he was standing on his head or
his heels.
There was, however, no time for soly-
ing the problem just then, for Tom Drift,
still retaining his grasp on his arm, drag-
ged him forward, whispering: -
“This way ! Wasn’t that a shave? Get
in here, and don’t make a noise.”” .
Charlie obeyed, and found himself in
a pew, one of a congregation of some