The Water-Babies: A Fairy Tale for a Land-Baby Read online

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  "The thing whirred up into the air, and hung poised onits wings, . . . a dragon fly, . . . the king of all the flies."--P. 74.(_Frontispiece_)]

  THE WATER-BABIES

  A Fairy Tale for a Land-Baby

  BY CHARLES KINGSLEY

  WITH ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR BY WARWICK GOBLE

  MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON 1922

  _First Published 1863_ _Edition with 32 Illustrations in Colour by Warwick Goble, Crown 4to, 1909_ _With 16 Illustrations in Colour by Warwick Goble, Demy 8vo, October 1910_ _Reprinted November 1910, 1912_ _With 16 Illustrations in Colour by Warwick Goble, Medium 8vo, 1922_

  PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN

  TO

  MY YOUNGEST SON

  GRENVILLE ARTHUR

  AND

  TO ALL OTHER GOOD LITTLE BOYS

  COME READ ME MY RIDDLE, EACH GOOD LITTLE MAN; IF YOU CANNOT READ IT, NO GROWN-UP FOLK CAN.

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  FACING PAGE

  The thing whirred up into the air, and hung poised on its wings, . . . a dragon fly, ... the king of all the flies.--p. 74 _Frontispiece_

  In rushed a stout old nurse from the next room 20

  Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child 32

  A quiet, silent, rich, happy place 35

  She was the Queen of them all 44

  From which great trout rushed out on Tom 88

  He watched the moonlight on the rippling river 101

  Tom had never seen a lobster before 113

  The fairies came flying in at the window and brought her such a pretty pair of wings 126

  A real live water-baby, sitting on the white sand 146

  Tom found that the isle stood all on pillars, and that its roots were full of caves 151

  He crept away among the rocks, and got to the cabinet, and behold! it was open 172

  There he saw the last of the Gairfowl, standing up on the Allalonestone, all alone 201

  The most beautiful bird of paradise 210

  "That's Mother Carey" 219

  Pandora and her box 224

  "I heard a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined; In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

  "To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think, What man has made of man."

  WORDSWORTH.

  CHAPTER I

  ONCE upon a time there was a little chimney-sweep, and his name was Tom.That is a short name, and you have heard it before, so you will not havemuch trouble in remembering it. He lived in a great town in the Northcountry, where there were plenty of chimneys to sweep, and plenty ofmoney for Tom to earn and his master to spend. He could not read norwrite, and did not care to do either; and he never washed himself, forthere was no water up the court where he lived. He had never been taughtto say his prayers. He never had heard of God, or of Christ, except inwords which you never have heard, and which it would have been well ifhe had never heard. He cried half his time, and laughed the other half.He cried when he had to climb the dark flues, rubbing his poor knees andelbows raw; and when the soot got into his eyes, which it did every dayin the week; and when his master beat him, which he did every day in theweek; and when he had not enough to eat, which happened every day in theweek likewise. And he laughed the other half of the day, when he wastossing halfpennies with the other boys, or playing leap-frog over theposts, or bowling stones at the horses' legs as they trotted by, whichlast was excellent fun, when there was a wall at hand behind which tohide. As for chimney-sweeping, and being hungry, and being beaten, hetook all that for the way of the world, like the rain and snow andthunder, and stood manfully with his back to it till it was over, as hisold donkey did to a hail-storm; and then shook his ears and was as jollyas ever; and thought of the fine times coming, when he would be a man,and a master sweep, and sit in the public-house with a quart of beer anda long pipe, and play cards for silver money, and wear velveteens andankle-jacks, and keep a white bull-dog with one grey ear, and carry herpuppies in his pocket, just like a man. And he would have apprentices,one, two, three, if he could. How he would bully them, and knock themabout, just as his master did to him; and make them carry home the sootsacks, while he rode before them on his donkey, with a pipe in his mouthand a flower in his button-hole, like a king at the head of his army.Yes, there were good times coming; and, when his master let him have apull at the leavings of his beer, Tom was the jolliest boy in the wholetown.

  One day a smart little groom rode into the court where Tom lived. Tomwas just hiding behind a wall, to heave half a brick at his horse'slegs, as is the custom of that country when they welcome strangers; butthe groom saw him, and halloed to him to know where Mr. Grimes, thechimney-sweep, lived. Now, Mr. Grimes was Tom's own master, and Tom wasa good man of business, and always civil to customers, so he put thehalf-brick down quietly behind the wall, and proceeded to take orders.

  Mr. Grimes was to come up next morning to Sir John Harthover's, at thePlace, for his old chimney-sweep was gone to prison, and the chimneyswanted sweeping. And so he rode away, not giving Tom time to ask whatthe sweep had gone to prison for, which was a matter of interest to Tom,as he had been in prison once or twice himself. Moreover, the groomlooked so very neat and clean, with his drab gaiters, drab breeches,drab jacket, snow-white tie with a smart pin in it, and clean roundruddy face, that Tom was offended and disgusted at his appearance, andconsidered him a stuck-up fellow, who gave himself airs because he woresmart clothes, and other people paid for them; and went behind the wallto fetch the half-brick after all; but did not, remembering that he hadcome in the way of business, and was, as it were, under a flag of truce.

  His master was so delighted at his new customer that he knocked Tom downout of hand, and drank more beer that night than he usually did in two,in order to be sure of getting up in time next morning; for the more aman's head aches when he wakes, the more glad he is to turn out, andhave a breath of fresh air. And, when he did get up at four the nextmorning, he knocked Tom down again, in order to teach him (as younggentlemen used to be taught at public schools) that he must be an extragood boy that day, as they were going to a very great house, and mightmake a very good thing of it, if they could but give satisfaction.

  And Tom thought so likewise, and, indeed, would have done and behavedhis best, even without being knocked down. For, of all places uponearth, Harthover Place (which he had never seen) was the most wonderful,and, of all men on earth, Sir John (whom he had seen, having been sentto gaol by him twice) was the most awful.

  Harthover Place was really a grand place, even for the rich Northcountry; with a house so large that in the frame-breaking riots, whichTom could just remember, the Duke of Wellington, and ten thousandsoldiers to match,
were easily housed therein; at least, so Tombelieved; with a park full of deer, which Tom believed to be monsterswho were in the habit of eating children; with miles of game-preserves,in which Mr. Grimes and the collier lads poached at times, on whichoccasions Tom saw pheasants, and wondered what they tasted like; with anoble salmon-river, in which Mr. Grimes and his friends would have likedto poach; but then they must have got into cold water, and that they didnot like at all. In short, Harthover was a grand place, and Sir John agrand old man, whom even Mr. Grimes respected; for not only could hesend Mr. Grimes to prison when he deserved it, as he did once or twicea week; not only did he own all the land about for miles; not only washe a jolly, honest, sensible squire, as ever kept a pack of hounds, whowould do what he thought right by his neighbours, as well as get what hethought right for himself; but, what was more, he weighed full fifteenstone, was nobody knew how many inches round the chest, and could havethrashed Mr. Grimes himself in fair fight, which very few folk roundthere could do, and which, my dear little boy, would not have been rightfor him to do, as a great many things are not which one both can do, andwould like very much to do. So Mr. Grimes touched his hat to him when herode through the town, and called him a "buirdly awd chap," and hisyoung ladies "gradely lasses," which are two high compliments in theNorth country; and thought that that made up for his poaching Sir John'spheasants; whereby you may perceive that Mr. Grimes had not been to aproperly-inspected Government National School.

  Now, I dare say, you never got up at three o'clock on a midsummermorning. Some people get up then because they want to catch salmon; andsome because they want to climb Alps; and a great many more because theymust, like Tom. But, I assure you, that three o'clock on a midsummermorning is the pleasantest time of all the twenty-four hours, and allthe three hundred and sixty-five days; and why every one does not get upthen, I never could tell, save that they are all determined to spoiltheir nerves and their complexions by doing all night what they mightjust as well do all day. But Tom, instead of going out to dinner athalf-past eight at night, and to a ball at ten, and finishing offsomewhere between twelve and four, went to bed at seven, when his masterwent to the public-house, and slept like a dead pig; for which reason hewas as piert as a game-cock (who always gets up early to wake the maids),and just ready to get up when the fine gentlemen and ladies were justready to go to bed.

  So he and his master set out; Grimes rode the donkey in front, and Tomand the brushes walked behind; out of the court, and up the street, pastthe closed window-shutters, and the winking weary policemen, and theroofs all shining grey in the grey dawn.

  They passed through the pitmen's village, all shut up and silent now,and through the turnpike; and then they were out in the real country,and plodding along the black dusty road, between black slag walls, withno sound but the groaning and thumping of the pit-engine in the nextfield. But soon the road grew white, and the walls likewise; and at thewall's foot grew long grass and gay flowers, all drenched with dew; andinstead of the groaning of the pit-engine, they heard the skylark sayinghis matins high up in the air, and the pit-bird warbling in the sedges,as he had warbled all night long.

  All else was silent. For old Mrs. Earth was still fast asleep; and, likemany pretty people, she looked still prettier asleep than awake. Thegreat elm-trees in the gold-green meadows were fast asleep above, andthe cows fast asleep beneath them; nay, the few clouds which were aboutwere fast asleep likewise, and so tired that they had lain down on theearth to rest, in long white flakes and bars, among the stems of theelm-trees, and along the tops of the alders by the stream, waiting forthe sun to bid them rise and go about their day's business in the clearblue overhead.

  On they went; and Tom looked, and looked, for he never had been so farinto the country before; and longed to get over a gate, and pickbuttercups, and look for birds' nests in the hedge; but Mr. Grimes was aman of business, and would not have heard of that.

  Soon they came up with a poor Irishwoman, trudging along with a bundleat her back. She had a grey shawl over her head, and a crimson madderpetticoat; so you may be sure she came from Galway. She had neithershoes nor stockings, and limped along as if she were tired and footsore;but she was a very tall handsome woman, with bright grey eyes, and heavyblack hair hanging about her cheeks. And she took Mr. Grimes' fancy somuch, that when he came alongside he called out to her:

  "This is a hard road for a gradely foot like that. Will ye up, lass, andride behind me?"

  But, perhaps, she did not admire Mr. Grimes' look and voice; for sheanswered quietly:

  "No, thank you; I'd sooner walk with your little lad here."

  "You may please yourself," growled Grimes, and went on smoking.

  So she walked beside Tom, and talked to him, and asked him where helived, and what he knew, and all about himself, till Tom thought he hadnever met such a pleasant-spoken woman. And she asked him, at last,whether he said his prayers! and seemed sad when he told her that heknew no prayers to say.

  Then he asked her where she lived, and she said far away by the sea. AndTom asked her about the sea; and she told him how it rolled and roaredover the rocks in winter nights, and lay still in the bright summerdays, for the children to bathe and play in it; and many a story more,till Tom longed to go and see the sea, and bathe in it likewise.

  At last, at the bottom of a hill, they came to a spring; not such aspring as you see here, which soaks up out of a white gravel in the bog,among red fly-catchers, and pink bottle-heath, and sweet white orchis;nor such a one as you may see, too, here, which bubbles up under thewarm sandbank in the hollow lane, by the great tuft of lady ferns, andmakes the sand dance reels at the bottom, day and night, all the yearround; not such a spring as either of those; but a real North countrylimestone fountain, like one of those in Sicily or Greece, where the oldheathen fancied the nymphs sat cooling themselves the hot summer's day,while the shepherds peeped at them from behind the bushes. Out of a lowcave of rock, at the foot of a limestone crag, the great fountain rose,quelling, and bubbling, and gurgling, so clear that you could not tellwhere the water ended and the air began; and ran away under the road, astream large enough to turn a mill; among blue geranium, and goldenglobe-flower, and wild raspberry, and the bird-cherry with its tasselsof snow.

  And there Grimes stopped, and looked; and Tom looked too. Tom waswondering whether anything lived in that dark cave, and came out atnight to fly in the meadows. But Grimes was not wondering at all.Without a word, he got off his donkey, and clambered over the low roadwall, and knelt down, and began dipping his ugly head into thespring--and very dirty he made it.

  Tom was picking the flowers as fast as he could. The Irishwoman helpedhim, and showed him how to tie them up; and a very pretty nosegay theyhad made between them. But when he saw Grimes actually wash, he stopped,quite astonished; and when Grimes had finished, and began shaking hisears to dry them, he said:

  "Why, master, I never saw you do that before."

  "Nor will again, most likely. 'Twasn't for cleanliness I did it, but forcoolness. I'd be ashamed to want washing every week or so, like anysmutty collier lad."

  "I wish I might go and dip my head in," said poor little Tom. "It mustbe as good as putting it under the town-pump; and there is no beadlehere to drive a chap away."

  "Thou come along," said Grimes; "what dost want with washing thyself?Thou did not drink half a gallon of beer last night, like me."

  "I don't care for you," said naughty Tom, and ran down to the stream,and began washing his face.

  Grimes was very sulky, because the woman preferred Tom's company to his;so he dashed at him with horrid words, and tore him up from his knees,and began beating him. But Tom was accustomed to that, and got his headsafe between Mr. Grimes' legs, and kicked his shins with all his might.

  "Are you not ashamed of yourself, Thomas Grimes?" cried the Irishwomanover the wall.

  Grimes looked up, startled at her knowing his name; but all he answeredwas, "No, nor never was yet"; and went on beating Tom.

&nbs
p; "True for you. If you ever had been ashamed of yourself, you would havegone over into Vendale long ago."

  "What do you know about Vendale?" shouted Grimes; but he left offbeating Tom.

  "I know about Vendale, and about you, too. I know, for instance, whathappened in Aldermire Copse, by night, two years ago come Martinmas."

  "You do?" shouted Grimes; and leaving Tom, he climbed up over the wall,and faced the woman. Tom thought he was going to strike her; but shelooked him too full and fierce in the face for that.

  "Yes; I was there," said the Irishwoman quietly.

  "You are no Irishwoman, by your speech," said Grimes, after many badwords.

  "Never mind who I am. I saw what I saw; and if you strike that boyagain, I can tell what I know."

  Grimes seemed quite cowed, and got on his donkey without another word.

  "Stop!" said the Irishwoman. "I have one more word for you both; for youwill both see me again before all is over. Those that wish to be clean,clean they will be; and those that wish to be foul, foul they will be.Remember."

  And she turned away, and through a gate into the meadow. Grimes stoodstill a moment, like a man who had been stunned. Then he rushed afterher, shouting, "You come back." But when he got into the meadow, thewoman was not there.

  Had she hidden away? There was no place to hide in. But Grimes lookedabout, and Tom also, for he was as puzzled as Grimes himself at herdisappearing so suddenly; but look where they would, she was not there.

  Grimes came back again, as silent as a post, for he was a littlefrightened; and, getting on his donkey, filled a fresh pipe, and smokedaway, leaving Tom in peace.

  And now they had gone three miles and more, and came to Sir John'slodge-gates.

  Very grand lodges they were, with very grand iron gates and stonegate-posts, and on the top of each a most dreadful bogy, all teeth,horns, and tail, which was the crest which Sir John's ancestors wore inthe Wars of the Roses; and very prudent men they were to wear it, forall their enemies must have run for their lives at the very first sightof them.

  Grimes rang at the gate, and out came a keeper on the spot, and opened.

  "I was told to expect thee," he said. "Now thou'lt be so good as to keepto the main avenue, and not let me find a hare or a rabbit on thee whenthou comest back. I shall look sharp for one, I tell thee."

  "Not if it's in the bottom of the soot-bag," quoth Grimes, and at thathe laughed; and the keeper laughed and said:

  "If that's thy sort, I may as well walk up with thee to the hall."

  "I think thou best had. It's thy business to see after thy game, man,and not mine."

  So the keeper went with them; and, to Tom's surprise, he and Grimeschatted together all the way quite pleasantly. He did not know that akeeper is only a poacher turned outside in, and a poacher a keeperturned inside out.

  They walked up a great lime avenue, a full mile long, and between theirstems Tom peeped trembling at the horns of the sleeping deer, whichstood up among the ferns. Tom had never seen such enormous trees, and ashe looked up he fancied that the blue sky rested on their heads. But hewas puzzled very much by a strange murmuring noise, which followed themall the way. So much puzzled, that at last he took courage to ask thekeeper what it was.

  He spoke very civilly, and called him Sir, for he was horribly afraid ofhim, which pleased the keeper, and he told him that they were the beesabout the lime flowers.

  "What are bees?" asked Tom.

  "What make honey."

  "What is honey?" asked Tom.

  "Thou hold thy noise," said Grimes.

  "Let the boy be," said the keeper. "He's a civil young chap now, andthat's more than he'll be long if he bides with thee."

  Grimes laughed, for he took that for a compliment.

  "I wish I were a keeper," said Tom, "to live in such a beautiful place,and wear green velveteens, and have a real dog-whistle at my button,like you."

  The keeper laughed; he was a kind-hearted fellow enough.

  "Let well alone, lad, and ill too at times. Thy life's safer than mineat all events, eh, Mr. Grimes?"

  And Grimes laughed again, and then the two men began talking quite low.Tom could hear, though, that it was about some poaching fight; and atlast Grimes said surlily, "Hast thou anything against me?"

  "Not now."

  "Then don't ask me any questions till thou hast, for I am a man ofhonour."

  And at that they both laughed again, and thought it a very good joke.

  And by this time they were come up to the great iron gates in front ofthe house; and Tom stared through them at the rhododendrons and azaleas,which were all in flower; and then at the house itself, and wondered howmany chimneys there were in it, and how long ago it was built, and whatwas the man's name that built it, and whether he got much money for hisjob?

  These last were very difficult questions to answer. For Harthover hadbeen built at ninety different times, and in nineteen different styles,and looked as if somebody had built a whole street of houses of everyimaginable shape, and then stirred them together with a spoon.

  _For the attics were Anglo-Saxon._

  _The third floor Norman._

  _The second Cinque-cento._

  _The first-floor Elizabethan._

  _The right wing Pure Doric._

  _The centre Early English, with a huge portico copied from the Parthenon._

  _The left wing pure B[oe]otian, which the country folk admired most of all, because it was just like the new barracks in the town, only three times as big._

  _The grand staircase was copied from the Catacombs at Rome._

  _The back staircase from the Tajmahal at Agra. This was built by Sir John's great-great-great-uncle, who won, in Lord Clive's Indian Wars, plenty of money, plenty of wounds, and no more taste than his betters._

  _The cellars were copied from the caves of Elephanta._

  _The offices from the Pavilion at Brighton._

  And the rest from nothing in heaven, or earth, or under the earth.

  So that Harthover House was a great puzzle to antiquarians, and athorough Naboth's vineyard to critics, and architects, and all personswho like meddling with other men's business, and spending other men'smoney. So they were all setting upon poor Sir John, year after year, andtrying to talk him into spending a hundred thousand pounds or so, inbuilding, to please them and not himself. But he always put them off,like a canny North-countryman as he was. One wanted him to build aGothic house, but he said he was no Goth; and another to build anElizabethan, but he said he lived under good Queen Victoria, and notgood Queen Bess; and another was bold enough to tell him that his housewas ugly, but he said he lived inside it, and not outside; and another,that there was no unity in it, but he said that that was just why heliked the old place. For he liked to see how each Sir John, and SirHugh, and Sir Ralph, and Sir Randal, had left his mark upon the place,each after his own taste; and he had no more notion of disturbing hisancestors' work than of disturbing their graves. For now the houselooked like a real live house, that had a history, and had grown andgrown as the world grew; and that it was only an upstart fellow who didnot know who his own grandfather was, who would change it for some spickand span new Gothic or Elizabethan thing, which looked as if it had beenall spawned in a night, as mushrooms are. From which you may collect (ifyou have wit enough) that Sir John was a very sound-headed,sound-hearted squire, and just the man to keep the country side inorder, and show good sport with his hounds.

  But Tom and his master did not go in through the great iron gates, as ifthey had been Dukes or Bishops, but round the back way, and a very longway round it was; and into a little back-door, where the ash-boy letthem in, yawning horribly; and then in a passage the housekeeper metthem, in such a flowered chintz dressing-gown, that Tom mistook her forMy Lady herself, and she gave Grimes solemn order
s about "You will takecare of this, and take care of that," as if he was going up thechimneys, and not Tom. And Grimes listened, and said every now and then,under his voice, "You'll mind that, you little beggar?" and Tom didmind, all at least that he could. And then the housekeeper turned theminto a grand room, all covered up in sheets of brown paper, and badethem begin, in a lofty and tremendous voice; and so after a whimper ortwo, and a kick from his master, into the grate Tom went, and up thechimney, while a housemaid stayed in the room to watch the furniture; towhom Mr. Grimes paid many playful and chivalrous compliments, but metwith very slight encouragement in return.

  How many chimneys Tom swept I cannot say; but he swept so many that hegot quite tired, and puzzled too, for they were not like the town fluesto which he was accustomed, but such as you would find--if you wouldonly get up them and look, which perhaps you would not like to do--inold country-houses, large and crooked chimneys, which had been alteredagain and again, till they ran one into another, anastomosing (asProfessor Owen would say) considerably. So Tom fairly lost his way inthem; not that he cared much for that, though he was in pitchy darkness,for he was as much at home in a chimney as a mole is underground; but atlast, coming down as he thought the right chimney, he came down thewrong one, and found himself standing on the hearthrug in a room thelike of which he had never seen before.

  Tom had never seen the like. He had never been in gentlefolks' rooms butwhen the carpets were all up, and the curtains down, and the furniturehuddled together under a cloth, and the pictures covered with aprons anddusters; and he had often enough wondered what the rooms were like whenthey were all ready for the quality to sit in. And now he saw, and hethought the sight very pretty.

  The room was all dressed in white,--white window-curtains, whitebed-curtains, white furniture, and white walls, with just a few lines ofpink here and there. The carpet was all over gay little flowers; and thewalls were hung with pictures in gilt frames, which amused Tom verymuch. There were pictures of ladies and gentlemen, and pictures ofhorses and dogs. The horses he liked; but the dogs he did not care formuch, for there were no bull-dogs among them, not even a terrier. Butthe two pictures which took his fancy most were, one a man in longgarments, with little children and their mothers round him, who waslaying his hand upon the children's heads. That was a very prettypicture, Tom thought, to hang in a lady's room. For he could see that itwas a lady's room by the dresses which lay about.

  The other picture was that of a man nailed to a cross, which surprisedTom much. He fancied that he had seen something like it in ashop-window. But why was it there? "Poor man," thought Tom, "and helooks so kind and quiet. But why should the lady have such a sad pictureas that in her room? Perhaps it was some kinsman of hers, who had beenmurdered by the savages in foreign parts, and she kept it there for aremembrance." And Tom felt sad, and awed, and turned to look atsomething else.

  The next thing he saw, and that too puzzled him, was a washing-stand,with ewers and basins, and soap and brushes, and towels, and a largebath full of clean water--what a heap of things all for washing! "Shemust be a very dirty lady," thought Tom, "by my master's rule, to wantas much scrubbing as all that. But she must be very cunning to put thedirt out of the way so well afterwards, for I don't see a speck aboutthe room, not even on the very towels."

  And then, looking toward the bed, he saw that dirty lady, and held hisbreath with astonishment.

  Under the snow-white coverlet, upon the snow-white pillow, lay the mostbeautiful little girl that Tom had ever seen. Her cheeks were almost aswhite as the pillow, and her hair was like threads of gold spread allabout over the bed. She might have been as old as Tom, or maybe a yearor two older; but Tom did not think of that. He thought only of herdelicate skin and golden hair, and wondered whether she was a real liveperson, or one of the wax dolls he had seen in the shops. But when hesaw her breathe, he made up his mind that she was alive, and stoodstaring at her, as if she had been an angel out of heaven.

  No. She cannot be dirty. She never could have been dirty, thought Tom tohimself. And then he thought, "And are all people like that when theyare washed?" And he looked at his own wrist, and tried to rub the sootoff, and wondered whether it ever would come off. "Certainly I shouldlook much prettier then, if I grew at all like her."

  And looking round, he suddenly saw, standing close to him, a littleugly, black, ragged figure, with bleared eyes and grinning white teeth.He turned on it angrily. What did such a little black ape want in thatsweet young lady's room? And behold, it was himself, reflected in agreat mirror, the like of which Tom had never seen before.

  And Tom, for the first time in his life, found out that he was dirty;and burst into tears with shame and anger; and turned to sneak up thechimney again and hide; and upset the fender and threw the fire-ironsdown, with a noise as of ten thousand tin kettles tied to ten thousandmad dogs' tails.

  "In rushed a stout old nurse from the next room."--_P.20._]

  Up jumped the little white lady in her bed, and, seeing Tom, screamed asshrill as any peacock. In rushed a stout old nurse from the next room,and seeing Tom likewise, made up her mind that he had come to rob,plunder, destroy, and burn; and dashed at him, as he lay over thefender, so fast that she caught him by the jacket.

  But she did not hold him. Tom had been in a policeman's hands many atime, and out of them too, what is more; and he would have been ashamedto face his friends for ever if he had been stupid enough to be caughtby an old woman; so he doubled under the good lady's arm, across theroom, and out of the window in a moment.

  He did not need to drop out, though he would have done so bravelyenough. Nor even to let himself down a spout, which would have been anold game to him; for once he got up by a spout to the church roof, hesaid to take jackdaws' eggs, but the policeman said to steal lead; and,when he was seen on high, sat there till the sun got too hot, and camedown by another spout, leaving the policemen to go back to thestationhouse and eat their dinners.

  But all under the window spread a tree, with great leaves and sweetwhite flowers, almost as big as his head. It was magnolia, I suppose;but Tom knew nothing about that, and cared less; for down the tree hewent, like a cat, and across the garden lawn, and over the ironrailings, and up the park towards the wood, leaving the old nurse toscream murder and fire at the window.

  The under gardener, mowing, saw Tom, and threw down his scythe; caughthis leg in it, and cut his shin open, whereby he kept his bed for aweek; but in his hurry he never knew it, and gave chase to poor Tom. Thedairymaid heard the noise, got the churn between her knees, and tumbledover it, spilling all the cream; and yet she jumped up, and gave chaseto Tom. A groom cleaning Sir John's hack at the stables let him goloose, whereby he kicked himself lame in five minutes; but he ran outand gave chase to Tom. Grimes upset the soot-sack in the new-gravelledyard, and spoilt it all utterly; but he ran out and gave chase to Tom.The old steward opened the park-gate in such a hurry, that he hung uphis pony's chin upon the spikes, and, for aught I know, it hangs therestill; but he jumped off, and gave chase to Tom. The ploughman left hishorses at the headland, and one jumped over the fence, and pulled theother into the ditch, plough and all; but he ran on, and gave chase toTom. The keeper, who was taking a stoat out of a trap, let the stoat go,and caught his own finger; but he jumped up, and ran after Tom; andconsidering what he said, and how he looked, I should have been sorryfor Tom if he had caught him. Sir John looked out of his study window(for he was an early old gentleman) and up at the nurse, and a martendropped mud in his eye, so that he had at last to send for the doctor;and yet he ran out, and gave chase to Tom. The Irishwoman, too, waswalking up to the house to beg,--she must have got round by somebyway,--but she threw away her bundle, and gave chase to Tom likewise.Only my Lady did not give chase; for when she had put her head out ofthe window, her night-wig fell into the garden, and she had to ring upher lady's-maid, and send her down for it privately, which quite put herout of the running, so that she came in nowhere, and is consequently notplaced.

&
nbsp; In a word, never was there heard at Hall Place--not even when the foxwas killed in the conservatory, among acres of broken glass, and tons ofsmashed flower-pots--such a noise, row, hubbub, babel, shindy,hullabaloo, stramash, charivari, and total contempt of dignity, repose,and order, as that day, when Grimes, gardener, the groom, the dairymaid,Sir John, the steward, the ploughman, the keeper, and the Irishwoman,all ran up the park, shouting "Stop thief," in the belief that Tom hadat least a thousand pounds' worth of jewels in his empty pockets; andthe very magpies and jays followed Tom up, screaking and screaming, asif he were a hunted fox, beginning to droop his brush.

  And all the while poor Tom paddled up the park with his little barefeet, like a small black gorilla fleeing to the forest. Alas for him!there was no big father gorilla therein to take his part--to scratchout the gardener's inside with one paw, toss the dairymaid into a treewith another, and wrench off Sir John's head with a third, while hecracked the keeper's skull with his teeth as easily as if it had been acocoa-nut or a paving-stone.

  However, Tom did not remember ever having had a father; so he did notlook for one, and expected to have to take care of himself; while as forrunning, he could keep up for a couple of miles with any stage-coach, ifthere was the chance of a copper or a cigar-end, and turn coach-wheelson his hands and feet ten times following, which is more than you cando. Wherefore his pursuers found it very difficult to catch him; and wewill hope that they did not catch him at all.

  Tom, of course, made for the woods. He had never been in a wood in hislife; but he was sharp enough to know that he might hide in a bush, orswarm up a tree, and, altogether, had more chance there than in theopen. If he had not known that, he would have been foolisher than amouse or a minnow.

  But when he got into the wood, he found it a very different sort ofplace from what he had fancied. He pushed into a thick cover ofrhododendrons, and found himself at once caught in a trap. The boughslaid hold of his legs and arms, poked him in his face and his stomach,made him shut his eyes tight (though that was no great loss, for hecould not see at best a yard before his nose); and when he got throughthe rhododendrons, the hassock-grass and sedges tumbled him over, andcut his poor little fingers afterwards most spitefully; the birchesbirched him as soundly as if he had been a nobleman at Eton, and overthe face too (which is not fair swishing, as all brave boys will agree);and the lawyers tripped him up, and tore his shins as if they hadsharks' teeth--which lawyers are likely enough to have.

  "I must get out of this," thought Tom, "or I shall stay here tillsomebody comes to help me--which is just what I don't want."

  But how to get out was the difficult matter. And indeed I don't think hewould ever have got out at all, but have stayed there till thecock-robins covered him with leaves, if he had not suddenly run his headagainst a wall.

  Now running your head against a wall is not pleasant, especially if itis a loose wall, with the stones all set on edge, and a sharp corneredone hits you between the eyes and makes you see all manner of beautifulstars. The stars are very beautiful, certainly; but unfortunately theygo in the twenty-thousandth part of a split second, and the pain whichcomes after them does not. And so Tom hurt his head; but he was a braveboy, and did not mind that a penny. He guessed that over the wall thecover would end; and up it he went, and over like a squirrel.

  And there he was, out on the great grouse-moors, which the country folkcalled Harthover Fell--heather and bog and rock, stretching away andup, up to the very sky.

  Now, Tom was a cunning little fellow--as cunning as an old Exmoor stag.Why not? Though he was but ten years old, he had lived longer than moststags, and had more wits to start with into the bargain.

  He knew as well as a stag that if he backed he might throw the houndsout. So the first thing he did when he was over the wall was to make theneatest double sharp to his right, and run along under the wall fornearly half a mile.

  Whereby Sir John, and the keeper, and the steward, and the gardener, andthe ploughman, and the dairymaid, and all the hue-and-cry together, wenton ahead half a mile in the very opposite direction, and inside thewall, leaving him a mile off on the outside; while Tom heard theirshouts die away in the woods and chuckled to himself merrily.

  At last he came to a dip in the land, and went to the bottom of it, andthen he turned bravely away from the wall and up the moor; for he knewthat he had put a hill between him and his enemies, and could go onwithout their seeing him.

  But the Irishwoman, alone of them all, had seen which way Tom went. Shehad kept ahead of every one the whole time; and yet she neither walkednor ran. She went along quite smoothly and gracefully, while her feettwinkled past each other so fast that you could not see which wasforemost; till every one asked the other who the strange woman was; andall agreed, for want of anything better to say, that she must be inleague with Tom.

  But when she came to the plantation, they lost sight of her; and theycould do no less. For she went quietly over the wall after Tom, andfollowed him wherever he went. Sir John and the rest saw no more of her;and out of sight was out of mind.

  And now Tom was right away into the heather, over just such a moor asthose in which you have been bred, except that there were rocks andstones lying about everywhere, and that, instead of the moor growingflat as he went upwards, it grew more and more broken and hilly, but notso rough but that little Tom could jog along well enough, and find time,too, to stare about at the strange place, which was like a new world tohim.

  He saw great spiders there, with crowns and crosses marked on theirbacks, who sat in the middle of their webs, and when they saw Tomcoming, shook them so fast that they became invisible. Then he sawlizards, brown and grey and green, and thought they were snakes, andwould sting him; but they were as much frightened as he, and shot awayinto the heath. And then, under a rock, he saw a pretty sight--a greatbrown, sharp-nosed creature, with a white tag to her brush, and roundher four or five smutty little cubs, the funniest fellows Tom ever saw.She lay on her back, rolling about, and stretching out her legs and headand tail in the bright sunshine; and the cubs jumped over her, and ranround her, and nibbled her paws, and lugged her about by the tail; andshe seemed to enjoy it mightily. But one selfish little fellow stoleaway from the rest to a dead crow close by, and dragged it off to hideit, though it was nearly as big as he was. Whereat all his littlebrothers set off after him in full cry, and saw Tom; and then all ranback, and up jumped Mrs. Vixen, and caught one up in her mouth, and therest toddled after her, and into a dark crack in the rocks; and therewas an end of the show.

  And next he had a fright; for, as he scrambled up a sandybrow--whirr-poof-poof-cock-cock-kick--something went off in his face,with a most horrid noise. He thought the ground had blown up, and theend of the world come.

  And when he opened his eyes (for he shut them very tight) it wasonly an old cock-grouse, who had been washing himself in sand,like an Arab, for want of water; and who, when Tom had all buttrodden on him, jumped up with a noise like the express train,leaving his wife and children to shift for themselves, like anold coward, and went off, screaming "Cur-ru-u-uck, cur-ru-u-uck--murder,thieves, fire--cur-u-uck-cock-kick--the end of the world iscome--kick-kick-cock-kick." He was always fancying that the end of theworld was come, when anything happened which was farther off than theend of his own nose. But the end of the world was not come, any morethan the twelfth of August was; though the old grouse-cock was quitecertain of it.

  So the old grouse came back to his wife and family an hour afterwards,and said solemnly, "Cock-cock-kick; my dears, the end of the world isnot quite come; but I assure you it is coming the day afterto-morrow--cock." But his wife had heard that so often that she knew allabout it, and a little more. And, besides, she was the mother of afamily, and had seven little poults to wash and feed every day; and thatmade her very practical, and a little sharp-tempered; so all sheanswered was: "Kick-kick-kick--go and catch spiders, go and catchspiders--kick."

  So Tom went on and on, he hardly knew why; but he liked the great wide
strange place, and the cool fresh bracing air. But he went more and moreslowly as he got higher up the hill; for now the ground grew very badindeed. Instead of soft turf and springy heather, he met great patchesof flat limestone rock, just like ill-made pavements, with deep cracksbetween the stones and ledges, filled with ferns; so he had to hop fromstone to stone, and now and then he slipped in between, and hurt hislittle bare toes, though they were tolerably tough ones; but still hewould go on and up, he could not tell why.

  What would Tom have said if he had seen, walking over the moor behindhim, the very same Irishwoman who had taken his part upon the road? Butwhether it was that he looked too little behind him, or whether it wasthat she kept out of sight behind the rocks and knolls, he never sawher, though she saw him.

  And now he began to get a little hungry, and very thirsty; for he hadrun a long way, and the sun had risen high in heaven, and the rock wasas hot as an oven, and the air danced reels over it, as it does over alimekiln, till everything round seemed quivering and melting in theglare.

  But he could see nothing to eat anywhere, and still less to drink.

  The heath was full of bilberries and whimberries; but they were only inflower yet, for it was June. And as for water, who can find that on thetop of a limestone rock? Now and then he passed by a deep darkswallow-hole, going down into the earth, as if it was the chimney ofsome dwarf's house underground; and more than once, as he passed, hecould hear water falling, trickling, tinkling, many many feet below. Howhe longed to get down to it, and cool his poor baked lips! But, bravelittle chimney-sweep as he was, he dared not climb down such chimneys asthose.

  So he went on and on, till his head spun round with the heat, and hethought he heard church-bells ringing, a long way off.

  "Ah!" he thought, "where there is a church there will be houses andpeople; and, perhaps, some one will give me a bit and a sup." So he setoff again, to look for the church; for he was sure that he heard thebells quite plain.

  And in a minute more, when he looked round, he stopped again, and said,"Why, what a big place the world is!"

  And so it was; for, from the top of the mountain he could see--whatcould he not see?

  Behind him, far below, was Harthover, and the dark woods, and theshining salmon river; and on his left, far below, was the town, and thesmoking chimneys of the collieries; and far, far away, the river widenedto the shining sea; and little white specks, which were ships, lay onits bosom. Before him lay, spread out like a map, great plains, andfarms, and villages, amid dark knots of trees. They all seemed at hisvery feet; but he had sense to see that they were long miles away.

  And to his right rose moor after moor, hill after hill, till they fadedaway, blue into blue sky. But between him and those moors, and really athis very feet, lay something, to which, as soon as Tom saw it, hedetermined to go, for that was the place for him.

  A deep, deep green and rocky valley, very narrow, and filled with wood;but through the wood, hundreds of feet below him, he could see a clearstream glance. Oh, if he could but get down to that stream! Then, by thestream, he saw the roof of a little cottage, and a little garden set outin squares and beds. And there was a tiny little red thing moving in thegarden, no bigger than a fly. As Tom looked down, he saw that it was awoman in a red petticoat. Ah! perhaps she would give him something toeat. And there were the church-bells ringing again. Surely there must bea village down there. Well, nobody would know him, or what had happenedat the Place. The news could not have got there yet, even if Sir Johnhad set all the policemen in the county after him; and he could get downthere in five minutes.

  Tom was quite right about the hue-and-cry not having got thither; for hehad come without knowing it, the best part of ten miles from Harthover;but he was wrong about getting down in five minutes, for the cottage wasmore than a mile off, and a good thousand feet below.

  "Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child."--_P. 32._]

  However, down he went, like a brave little man as he was, though he wasvery footsore, and tired, and hungry, and thirsty; while thechurch-bells rang so loud, he began to think that they must be insidehis own head, and the river chimed and tinkled far below; and this wasthe song which it sang:--

  _Clear and cool, clear and cool, By laughing shallow, and dreaming pool; Cool and clear, cool and clear, By shining shingle, and foaming wear; Under the crag where the ouzel sings, And the ivied wall where the church-bell rings, Undefiled, for the undefiled; Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child._

  _Dank and foul, dank and foul, By the smoky town in its murky cowl; Foul and dank, foul and dank, By wharf and sewer and slimy bank; Darker and darker the farther I go, Baser and baser the richer I grow; Who dare sport with the sin-defiled? Shrink from me, turn from me, mother and child._

  _Strong and free, strong and free, The floodgates are open, away to the sea, Free and strong, free and strong, Cleansing my streams as I hurry along, To the golden sands, and the leaping bar, And the taintless tide that awaits me afar. As I lose myself in the infinite main, Like a soul that has sinned and is pardoned again. Undefiled, for the undefiled; Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child._

  So Tom went down; and all the while he never saw the Irishwoman goingdown behind him.

  "And is there care in heaven? and is there love In heavenly spirits to these creatures base That may compassion of their evils move? There is:--else much more wretched were the case Of men than beasts: But oh! the exceeding grace Of Highest God that loves His creatures so, And all His works with mercy doth embrace, That blessed Angels He sends to and fro, To serve to wicked man, to serve His wicked foe!"

  SPENSER.