CHAPTER XI.

THE POOR BOY.

Not all the fine things that fine people possess, Should teach them the poor to despise; For 'tis in good manners, and not in good dress, That the truest gentility lies.

The following Saturday morning, Frank, Harry, and Laura were assembled before Lady Harriet's breakfast hour, talking over all their adventures on the night of the illumination; and many a merry laugh was heard while uncle David cracked his jokes and told his stories, for he seemed as full of fun and spirits as the youngest boy in a play-ground.

"Well, old fellow!" said he, lifting up Harry, and suddenly seating him on the high marble chimney-piece. "That is the situation where the poor little dwarf, Baron Borowloski was always put by his tall wife, when she wished to keep him out of mischief, and I wonder Mrs. Crabtree never thought of the same plan for you."

"Luckily there is no fire, or Harry would soon be roasted for the Giant Snap-'em-up's dinner," said Frank, laughing; "he looks up there like a China Mandarin. Shake your head, Harry, and you will do quite as well!"

"Uncle David!" cried Harry, eagerly, "pray let me see you stand for one moment as you do at the club on a cold day, with your feet upon the rug, your back to the fire, and your coat-tails under your arms! Pray do, for one minute!"

Uncle David did as he was asked, evidently expecting the result, which took place, for Harry sprung upon his back with the agility of a monkey, and they went round and round the room at a full gallop, during the next five minutes, while Lady Harriet said she never saw two such noisy people, but it was quite the fashion now, since the king of France carried his grandchildren, in the same way, every morning, a picture of which had lately been shown to her.

"Then I hope his majesty gets as good an appetite with his romp as I have done," replied Major Graham, sitting down. "None of your tea and toast for me! that is only fit for ladies. Frank, reach me these beef-steaks, and a cup of chocolate."

Harry and Laura now planted themselves at the window, gazing at crowds of people who passed, while, by way of a joke, they guessed what everybody had come out for, and who they all were.

"There is a fat cook with a basket under her arm, going to market," said Harry. "Did you ever observe when Mrs. Marmalade comes home, she says to grandmama, 'I have desired a leg of mutton to come here, my lady! and I told a goose to be over also,' as if the leg of mutton and the goose walked here, arm-in-arm, of themselves."

"Look at those children, going to see the wild beasts," added Laura, "and this little girl is on her way to buy a new frock. I am sure she needs one! that old man is hurrying along because he is too late for the mail-coach; and this lady with a gown like a yellow daffodil, is going to take root in the Botanical Gardens!"

"Uncle David! there is the very poorest boy I ever saw!" cried Harry, turning eagerly round; "he has been standing in the cold here, for ten minutes, looking the picture of misery! he wears no hat, and has pulled his long lank hair to make a bow, about twenty times. Do come and look at him! he is very pale, and his clothes seem to have been made before he began to grow, for they are so much too small, and he is making us many signs to open the window. May I do it?"

"No! no! I never give to chance beggars of that kind, especially young able-bodied fellows like that, because there are so many needy, deserving people whom I visit, who worked as long as they could, and whom I know to be sober and honest. Most of the money we scatter to street beggars goes straight to the gin-shop, and even the very youngest children will buy or steal, to get the means of becoming intoxicated. Only last week, Harry, the landlord of an ale-house at Portobello was seen at the head of a long table, surrounded with ragged beggar boys about twelve or fourteen years of age, who were all perfectly drunk, and probably your friend there might be of the party."

"Oh no! uncle David! this boy seems quite sober and exceedingly clean, though he is so very poor!" replied Laura; "his black trowsers are patched and repatched, his jacket has faded into fifty colours, and his shoes are mended in every direction, but still he looks almost respectable. His face is so thin you might use it for a hatchet. I wish you would take one little peep, for he seems so anxious to speak to us."

"I daresay that! we all know what the youngster has to tell! Probably a wife and six small children at home, or, if you like it better, he will be a shipwrecked sailor at your service. I know the whole affair already; but if you have sixpence to spare, Laura, come with me after breakfast, and we shall bestow it on poor blind Mrs. Wilkie, who has been bed-ridden for the last ten years; or old paralytic Jemmy Dixon the porter, who worked hard as long as he was able. If you had twenty more sixpences, I could tell you of twenty more people who deserve them as much."

"Very true," added Lady Harriet. "Street beggars, who are young and able to work, like that boy, it is cruelty to encourage. Parents bring up their children in profligate idleness, hoping to gain more money by lying and cheating, than by honest industry, and they too often succeed, especially when the wicked mothers also starve and disfigure these poor creatures, to excite more compassion. We must relieve real distress, Harry, and search for it as we would for hidden treasures, because thus we show our love to God and man; but a large purse with easy strings will do more harm than good."

"Do you remember, Frank, how long I suspected that old John Davidson was imposing upon me?" said Major Graham. "He told such a dismal story always, that I never liked to refuse him some assistance; but yesterday, when he was here, the thought struck me by chance to say, 'What a fine supper you had last night, John!' You should have seen the start he gave, and his look of consternation, when he answered, 'Eh, Sir! how did ye hear of that! We got the turkey very cheap, and none of us took more than two glasses of toddy.'"

"That boy is pointing to his pockets, and making more signs for us to open the window!" exclaimed Laura. "What can it all mean! he seems so very anxious!"

Major Graham threw down his knife and fork--rose hastily from breakfast--and flung open the window, calling out in rather a loud, angry voice, "What do you want, you idle fellow? It is a perfect shame to see you standing there all morning! Surely you don't mean to say that an active youngster like you would disgrace yourself by begging?"

"No, Sir! I want nothing!" answered the boy respectfully, but colouring to the deepest scarlet. "I never asked for money in my life, and I never will."

"That's right, my good boy!" answered the Major, instantly changing his tone. "What brings you here then?"

"Please, Sir, your servants shut the door in my face, and every body is so hasty like, that I don't know what to do. I can't be listened to for a minute, though I have got something very particular to say, that some one would be glad to hear."

Major Graham now looked exceedingly vexed with himself, for having spoken so roughly to the poor boy, who had a thoughtful, mild, but care-worn countenance, which was extremely interesting, while his manner seemed better than his dress.

Frank was despatched, as a most willing messenger, to bring the young stranger up stairs, while uncle David told Harry that he would take this as a lesson to himself ever afterwards, not to judge hastily from appearances, because it was impossible for any one to guess what might be in the mind of another; and he began to hope this boy, who was so civil and well-spoken, might yet turn out to be a proper, industrious little fellow.

"Well, my lad! Is there anything I can do for you?" asked Major Graham, when Frank led him kindly into the room. "What is your name?"

"Evan Mackay, at your service. Please, Sir, did you lose a pocket-book last Thursday, with your name on the back, and nine gold sovereigns inside?"

"Yes! that I did, to my cost! Have you heard anything of it?"

The boy silently drew a parcel from his pocket, and without looking up or speaking, he modestly placed it on the table, then colouring very deeply, he turned away, and hurried towards the door. In another minute he would have been off, but Frank sprung forward and took hold of his arm, saying, in the kindest possible manner, "Stop, Evan! Stop a moment! That parcel seems to contain all my uncle's money. Where did you get it? Who sent it here?"

"I brought it, Sir! The direction is on the pocket-book, so there could be no mistake."

"Did you find it yourself then?"

"Yes! it was lying in the street that night when I ran for a Doctor to see my mother, who is dying. She told me now to come back directly, Sir, so I must be going."

"But let us give you something for being so honest," said Frank. "You are a fine fellow, and you deserve to be well rewarded."

"I only did my duty, Sir. Mother always says we should do right for conscience' sake, and not for a reward."

"Yes! but you are justly entitled to this," said Major Graham, taking a sovereign out of the purse. "I shall do more for you yet, but in the meantime here is what you have honestly earned to-day."

"If I thought so, Sir,"----said the poor boy, looking wistfully at the glittering coin. "If I was quite sure there could be no harm----, but I must speak first to mother about it, Sir! She has seen better days once, and she is sadly afraid of my ever taking charity. Mother mends my clothes, and teaches me herself, and works very hard in other ways, but she is quite bed-ridden, and we have scarcely anything but the trifle I make by working in the fields. It is very difficult to get a job at all sometimes, and if you could put me in the way of earning that money, Sir, it would make mother very happy. She is a little particular, and would not taste a morsel that I could get by asking for it."

"That is being very proud!" said Harry.

"No, Sir! it is not from pride," replied Evan; "but mother says a merciful God has provided for her many years, and she will not begin to distrust Him now. Her hands are always busy, and her heart is always cheerful. She rears many little plants by her bedside, which we sell, and she teaches a neighbour's children, besides sewing for any one who will employ her, for mother's maxim always was, that there can be no such thing as an idle Christian."

"Very true!" said Lady Harriet. "Even the apostles were mending their nets and labouring hard, whenever they were not teaching. Either the body or the mind should always be active."

"If you saw mother, that is exactly her way, for she does not eat the bread of idleness. Were a stranger to offer us a blanket or a dinner in charity, she would rather go without any than take it. A very kind lady brought her a gown one day, but mother would only have it if she were allowed to knit as many stockings as would pay for the stuff. I dare not take a penny more for my work than is due, for she says, if once I begin receiving alms, I might get accustomed to it."

"That is the good old Scotch feeling of former days," observed Major Graham. "It was sometimes carried too far then, but there is not enough of it now. Your mother should have lived fifty years ago."

"You may say so, indeed, Sir! We never had a drop of broth from the soup-kitchen all winter, and many a day we shivered without a fire, though the society offered her sixpence a-week for coals, but she says 'the given morsel is soon done;' and now, many of our neighbours who wasted what they got, feel worse off than we, who are accustomed to suffer want, and to live upon our honest labour. Long ago, if mother went out to tea with any of our neighbours, she always took her own tea along with us."

"But that is being prouder than anybody else," observed Frank, smiling. "If my grandmama goes out to a tea-party, she allows her friends to provide the fare."

"Very likely, Sir! but that is different when people can give as good as they get. Last week a kind neighbour sent us some nice loaf bread, but mother made me take it back, with her best thanks, and she preferred our own oat cake. She is more ready to give than to take, Sir, and divides her last bannock, sometimes, with anybody who is worse off than ourselves."

"Poor fellow!" said Frank, compassionately; "how much you must often have suffered!"

"Suffered!" said the boy, with sudden emotion. "Yes! I have suffered! It matters nothing to be clothed in rags,--to be cold and hungry now! There are worse trials than that! My father died last year, crushed to death in a moment by his own cart-wheels,--my brothers and sisters have all gone to the grave, scarcely able to afford the medicines that might have cured them,--and I am left alone with my poor dying mother. It is a comfort that life is not very long, and we may trust all to God while it lasts."

"Could you take us to see Mrs. Mackay?" said Major Graham, kindly. "Laura, get your bonnet."

"Oh, Sir! that young lady could not stay half a minute in the place where my poor mother lives now. It is not a pretty cottage such as we read of in tracts, but a dark cold room, up a high stair, in the narrowest lane you ever saw, with nothing to sit on but an old chest."

"Never mind that, Evan," replied Major Graham. "You and your mother have a spirit of honour and honesty that might shame many who are lying on sofas of silk and damask. I respect her, and shall assist you if it be possible. Show us the way."

Many dirty closes and narrow alleys were threaded by the whole party, before they reached a dark ruinous staircase, where Evan paused and looked round, to see whether Major Graham still approached. He then slowly mounted one flight of ancient crumbling steps after another, lighted by patched and broken windows, till at last they arrived at a narrow wooden flight, perfectly dark. After groping to the summit, they perceived a time-worn door, the latch of which was gently lifted by Evan, who stole noiselessly into the room, followed by uncle David and the wondering children.

There, a large cold room, nearly empty, but exceedingly clean, presented itself to their notice. In one corner stood a massive old chest of carved oak, surrounded with a perfect glow of geraniums and myrtles in full blossom; beside which were arranged a large antique Bible, a jug of cold water, and a pile of coarsely-knitted worsted stockings. Beyond these, on a bed of clean straw, lay a tall, emaciated old woman, apparently in the last stage of life, with a face haggard by suffering; and yet her thin, withered hands were busily occupied with needle-work, while, in low, faltering tones, she chanted these words,

"When from the dust of death I rise, To claim my mansion in the skies, This, this shall be my only plea, Jesus has liv'd and died for me."

"Mother!" said Evan, wishing to arouse her attention. "Look, mother!"

"Good day, Mrs. Mackay," added Major Graham, in a voice of great consideration, while she languidly turned her head towards the door. "I have come to thank you for restoring my purse this morning."

"You are kindly welcome, Sir! What else could we do!" replied she, in a feeble, tremulous voice. "The money was yours, and the sooner it went out of our hands the better."

"It was perfectly safe while it stayed there," added Major Graham, not affecting to speak in a homely accent, nor putting on any airs of condescension at all, but sitting down on the old chest as if he had never sat on any thing but a chest in his life before, and looking at the clean bare floor with as much respect as if it had been a Turkey carpet. "Your little boy's pocket seems to be as safe as the Bank of Scotland."

"That is very true, Sir! My boy is honest; and it is well to keep a good conscience, as that is all he has in this world to live for. Many have a heavy conscience to carry with a heavy purse; but these he need not envy. If we are poor in this world, we are rich in faith; and I trust the money was not even a temptation to Evan, because he has learned from the best of all teachers, that it would 'profit him nothing to gain the whole world, and lose his own soul.'"

"True, Mrs. Mackay! most true! We have come here this morning to request that you and he will do me the favour to accept of a small recompense."

"We are already rewarded, Sir! This has been an opportunity of testifying to our own hearts that we desire to do right in the eye of God. At the same time, it was Providence who kindly directed my son's steps to the place where that money was lying; and if anything seems justly due to poor Evan, let him have it. My wants are few, and must soon be ended. But oh! when I look at that boy, and think of the long years he may be struggling with poverty and temptation, my heart melts within me, and my whole spirit is broken. Faith itself seems to fail, and I could be a beggar for him now! It is not money I would ask, Sir, because that might soon be spent; but get him some honest employment, and I will thank you on my very knees."

Evan seemed startled at the sudden energy of his mother's manner, and tears sprung into his eyes while she spoke with a degree of agitation so different from what he had ever heard before; but he struggled to conceal his feelings, and she continued with increasing emotion,

"Bodily suffering, and many a year of care and sorrow, are fast closing their work on me. The moments are passing away like a weaver's shuttle; and if I had less anxiety about Evan, how blessed a prospect it would appear; but that is the bitterness of death to me now. My poor, poor boy! I would rather hear he was in the way of earning his livelihood, than that he got a hundred a-year. Tell me, Sir!--and oh! consider you are speaking to a dying creature--can you possibly give him any creditable employment, where he might gain a crust of bread, and be independent?"

"I honour your very proper feeling on the subject, Mrs. Mackay, and shall help Evan to the best of my ability," replied Major Graham, in a tone of seriousness and sincerity. "To judge by these fine geraniums, he must be fond of cultivating plants; and we want an under-gardener in the country; therefore he shall have that situation without loss of time."

"Oh, mother! mother! speak no more of dying! You will surely get better now!" said Evan, looking up, while his thin pale face assumed a momentary glow of pleasure. "Try now to get better! I never could work as well, if you were not waiting to see me come home! We shall be so happy now!"

"Yes! I am happy!" said Mrs. Mackay, solemnly looking towards heaven, with an expression that could not be mistaken. "The last cord is cut that bound me to the earth; and may you, Sir, find hereafter the blessings that are promised to those who visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction."