The Children of the New Forest by Frederick Marryat (well read books .TXT) 📕

“I hope you are hungry, Edward,” said Clara; “dinner is almost ready.”

“I dare say I shall eat more than you do, Clara.”

“So you ought, a great big man like you. How old are you, Edward?” said Clara; “I am thirteen; Patience is past sixteen: now, how old are you?”

“I am not yet eighteen, Clara, so that I can hardly be called a man.”

“Why, you are as tall as Mr. Heatherstone.”

“Yes, I believe I am.”

“And can’t you do every thing that a man can do?”

“I really don’t know; but I certainly shall always try so to do.”

“Well, then, you must be a man.”

“Well, Clara, if it pleases you, I will be a man.”

“Here comes Mr. Heatherstone, so I know dinner is ready; is it not, sir?”

“Yes, my child, it is,” replied Mr. Heatherstone, kissing Clara, “so let us all go in.”

Mr. Heatherstone, as was usual at that time with the people to whose party he ostensibly belonged, said a grace before meat, of considerable length, and then they sat down to table. As soon as the repast was over, Mr. Heatherstone returned to his study, and Edward went out to find Oswald Partridge, with whom he remained the larger portion of the afternoon, going to the kennel and examining the dogs, and talking of matters connected with the chase.

“I have not two men that can stalk a deer,” observed Oswald “the men appointed here as verderers and keepers have not one of them been brought up to the business. Most of them are men who have been in the army, and I believe have been appointed to these situations to get rid of them because they were troublesome; and they are any thing but good characters: the consequence is, that we kill but few deer, for I have so much to attend to here, as none of them know their duties, that I can seldom take my own gun out. I stated so to the intendant, and he said that if you accepted an offer he had made you, and came over here, we should not want venison; so it is clear that he does not expect you to have your pen always in your hand.”

“I am glad to hear that,” replied Edward; “depend upon it, his own table, at all events, shall be well supplied. Is not that fellow Corbould, who is leaning against the wall?”

“Yes; he is to be discharged as he can not walk well, and the surgeon says he will always limp. He owes you a grudge, and I am glad that he is going away, for he is a dangerous man. But the sun is setting, Mr. Edward, and supper will soon be on the table; you had better go back to the house.”

Edward bade Oswald farewell, and returned to the intendant’s, and found that Oswald was correct, as supper was being placed on the table.

Soon after supper, Phoebe and the men-servants were summoned, and prayers offered up by the intendant, after which Patience and Clara retired. Edward remained in conversation with the intendant for about an hour, and then was conducted by him to his room, which had already been shown to him by Patience.

Edward did not sleep much that night. The novelty of his situation— the novelty of his prospects, and his speculations thereon, kept him awake till near morning: he was, however, up in good time, and having assisted at the morning prayers, and afterward eaten a most substantial breakfast, he took his leave of the intendant and the two girls, and set off on his return to the cottage, having renewed his promise of coming on the following Monday to take up his abode with them. Billy was fresh, and cantered gayly along, so that Edward was back early in the afternoon, and once more welcomed by his household. He stated to Humphrey all that had occurred, and Humphrey was much pleased at Edward having accepted the offer of the intendant. Alice and Edith did not quite so much approve of it, and a few tears were shed at the idea of Edward leaving the cottage. The next day, Edward and Humphrey set off for Lymington, with Billy in the cart.

“Do you know, Edward,” said Humphrey, “what I am going to try and purchase? I will tell you: as many kids as I can, or goats and kids, I don’t care which.”

“Why, have you not stock enough already? You will this year have four cows in milk, and you have two cow calves bringing up.”

“That is very true; but I do not intend to have goats for their milk, but simply for eating in lieu of mutton. Sheep I can not manage, but goats, with a little hay in winter, will do well, and will find themselves in the forest all the year round. I won’t kill any of the females for the first year or two, and after that I expect we shall have a flock sufficient to meet any demand upon it.”

“It is not a bad idea, Humphrey; they will always come home if you have hay for them during the winter.”

“Yes, and a large shed for them to lie in when the snow is on the ground.”

“Now I recollect, when we used to go to Lymington, I saw a great many goats, and I have no doubt that they are to be purchased. I will soon ascertain that for you, from the landlord of the hostelry,” replied Edward. “We will drive there first, as I must ask him to recommend me to a tailor.”

On their arrival at Lymington, they went straight to the hostelry, and found the landlord at home. He recommended a tailor to Edward, who sent for him to the inn, and was measured by him for a plain suit of dark cloth. Edward and Humphrey then went out, as Edward had to procure boots, and many other articles of dress, to correspond with the one which he was about to assume.

“I am most puzzled about a hat, Humphrey,” said Edward: “I hate those steeple-crowned hats worn by the Roundheads; yet the hat and feather is not proper for a secretary.”

“I would advise you to submit to wear the steeple-crowned hats, nevertheless,” said Humphrey. “Your dress, as I consider, is a sort of disgrace to a Cavalier born, and the heir of Arnwood; why not, therefore, take its hat as well? As secretary to the intendant, you should dress like him; if not, you may occasion remarks, especially when you travel on his concerns.”

“You are right, Humphrey, I must not do things by halves; and unless I wear the hat, I might be suspected.”

“I doubt if the intendant wears it for any other reason,” said Humphrey.

“At all events, I will not go to the height of the fashion,” replied Edward, laughing. “Some of the hats are not quite so tall as the others.”

“Here is the shop for the hat and for the sword-belt.”

Edward chose a hat and a plain sword-belt, paid for them, and desired the man to carry them to the hostelry.

While all these purchases on the part of Edward, and many others by Humphrey, such as nails, saws, tools, and various articles which Alice required for the household, were gathered together, the landlord had sent out to inquire for the goats, and found out at what price they were to be procured. Humphrey left Edward to put away these in the cart, while he went out a second time to see the goats; he made an agreement with the man who had them for sale, for a male and three females with two kids each at their sides, and ten more female kids which had just been weaned. The man engaged to drive them from Lymington as far as the road went into the forest, on the following day, when Humphrey would meet them, pay him his money, and drive them to the cottage, which would be only three miles from the place agreed upon. Having settled that satisfactorily, he returned to Edward, who was all ready, and they went back home.

“We have dipped somewhat into the bag to-day, Edward,” said Humphrey, “but the money is well spent.”

“I think so, Humphrey; but I have no doubt that I shall be able to replace the money very soon, as the intendant will pay me for my services. The tailor has promised the clothes on Saturday without fail, so that you or I must go for them.”

“I will go, Edward; my sisters will wish you to stay with them now, as you are so soon to leave them; and I will take Pablo with me, that he may know his way to the town; and I will show him where to buy things, in case he goes there by himself.”

“It appears to me to have been a most fortunate thing, your having caught Pablo as you did, Humphrey, for I do not well know how I could have left you, if you had not.”

“At all events, I can do much better without you than I should have done,” replied Humphrey; “although I think now that I could get on by myself; but still, Edward, you know we can not tell what a day may bring forth, and I might fall sick, or something happen which might prevent my attending to any thing; and then, without you or Pablo, every thing might have gone to rack and ruin. Certainly, when we think how we were left, by the death of old Jacob, to our own resources, we have much to thank God for, in having got on so well.”

“I agree with you, and also that it has pleased Heaven to grant us all such good health. However, I shall be close at hand if you want me, and Oswald will always call and see how you get on.”

“I hope you will manage that he calls once a-week.”

“I will if I can, Humphrey, for I shall be just as anxious as you are to know if all goes on well. Indeed, I shall insist upon coming over to you once a-fortnight; and I hardly think the intendant will refuse me—indeed, I am sure that he will not.”

“So am I,” replied Humphrey. “I am certain that he wishes us all well, and has, in a measure, taken us under his protection; but, Edward, recollect, I shall never kill any venison after this, and so you may tell the intendant.”

“I will, and that will be an excuse for him to send some over, if he pleases. Indeed, as I know I shall be permitted to go out with Oswald, it will be hard if a stray buck does not find its way to the cottage.”

Thus did they continue talking over matters till they arrived at the cottage. Alice came out to them, saying to Humphrey,

“Well, Humphrey, have you brought my geese and ducks?”

Humphrey had forgotten them, but he replied, “You must wait till I go to Lymington again on Saturday, Alice, and then I hope to bring them with me. As it is, look how poor Billy is loaded. Where’s Pablo?”

“In the garden. He has been working there all day, and Edith is with him.”

“Well, then, we will unload the cart, while you get us something to eat, Alice, for we are not a little hungry. I can tell you.”

“I have some rabbit-stew on the fire, Humphrey, all ready for you, and you will find it very good.”

“Nothing I like better, my dear girl. Pablo won’t thank me for bringing this home,” continued Humphrey, taking the long saw out of the cart; “he will have to go to the bottom of the pit