Young Folks Treasury Volume 3 (of 12) by Hamilton Wright Mabie (best romantic novels to read .txt) 📕

what we should have remembered-namely, that, instead of despising or ridiculing people who are old and helpless and poor, we ought to treat them with kindness, respect, and consideration. We forgot that we, if suffered to live long enough, should also become old, and that it would be hard for us to bear the coldness and neglect of the world, but much harder to endure the ridicule and ill-behavior of wicked children. Ay, we were thoughtless lads, and so we suffered for it, as you will afterwards hear.

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The old lady whom I had seen sitting in the church porch, who was so ugly, as I thought, and so withered and old, was a very poor widow. Her husband had died in battle long ago, and she had from year to year supported herself by her spinning wheel and the little relief she had from the parish. She lived in a little hut on a piece of waste ground, and kept a little poultry, and now and then a pig or two.

Among other animals, the old lady kept an enormous goat, or, rather, he kept himself. It was one her husband had brought her from abroad, of the Syrian breed. It was quite young when it came over, but at last grew and grew so, as to become a very formidable animal, so strong and fierce, that every dog was afraid of it, being, no doubt, terrified by the sight of its large horns and undaunted aspect. The name of this dread animal was Hannibal.

Poor old Goody Clackett-for that was her name-had little thoughts of ever being "smugged," as it was termed, by our schoolfellows to make a guy on the fifth of November, and sat quietly enough spinning her wheel and drawing out her yarn. Sometimes the thrum of the old wheel would send her soundly to sleep, and then she never dreamed of such a thing as was to happen to her.

Every boy was delighted with this proposition, and it was arranged that on the following evening I and my cousin Simon should assist in the endeavor to get the chair from the outhouse to a convenient place, while Hardy was to provide lantern, matches, cap, and feathers, with red and black paint to disfigure the features of the poor old creature.

"We will make her amends," said Quidd, "all the money we get shall be hers."

"Oh yes; that is quite fair," said I.

When the evening came and it was quite dark, Simon and I went to the back part of Quidd's father's house. After waiting some little time we heard a knock. Presently Quidd opened the gates and came out.

"There, get it," said he. "Look about to see if anybody is coming, and you can take it away."

We did so. The coast was clear, and out rolled the chair.

Simon and I took hold of it, one behind and one before at the handle-stick. Away we went, as had been preconcerted between us in the stable-yard of another schoolfellow of ours in the plot, who placed it near the gate and covered it over with loose straw, so that no one could see it.

The next evening, which was the fourth of November, we met again by appointment at the dark hollow of the churchyard. This meeting was for the purpose of determining about the way in which Dame Clackett should be dressed in her triumphal entry to the Town Hall, the place where the bonfires were usually made. Hardy had brought what was of essential service-namely, an old coat which had formerly belonged to his father when in the yeomanry cavalry, an old helmet, a cartridge-box, and a pair of boots.

"We shall never get the boots on," said I.

Another boy brought an old lantern with the horn burnt out, a third a bunch of matches; then there was a mask and a lath-sword and a drum, with sticks and straw in abundance. They were all deposited in the same place with the chair. The conspirators (for conspirators we were) then made a promise to each other not to split, as they call it-that is, not to betray each other, and to go through with our work like
Britons; so we all shook hands and parted.

The next morning was a holiday, and we were up betimes. After a consultation it was determined that I and Quidd should go to the old dame and see how she was, and if she was determined to go to church, and if there would be any difficulty to get her to accept of the convenience of our vehicle; so off we set. In less than half-an-hour we reached the old dame's cottage, and found her at that very moment dressing her foot.

Quidd was the first who spoke.

"Good morning, Goody," said he. "What, is not your foot well yet? Why, I hear you have not been to church lately. The curate was at father's last night, and said if you were so lame that you could not walk, you might have our easy four-wheeled chair. But I suppose you won't go to church to-day-it is only the fifth of November?"

"Not go to church!" said the old woman-"not go to church! I have always gone on the fifth of November for forty years. My poor husband was in a French prison, and he knew well enough what the Jacobites are. Was he not blown up, poor fellow, in the 'Glorious?' and were not King James and all his people to have been blown up so high by the horrid Papist plot that I suppose they would not have been down by this time? No Popery, I say! I would sooner crawl to church on my hands and knees than not go to-day, young gentlemen. And then Mr. Hassock, the kind, good curate, to ask for me!"

"Yes, and then there is the 'coal money' given on the fifth, that all the widows in the parish may have a good fire through the winter, you know, Goody."

"Yes, I must go to church," said Mrs. Clackett.

"That you must," said Quidd, "and I will tell you what these young gentlemen and I will do. We will bring down the chair, and take you there ourselves. I am sure it would please Mr. Hassock. Would it not, Parley?"

"Yes, and the rector also," said I. "And I have no doubt but the churchwardens would like to see Goody at church, for the tickets for flannel petticoats are to be given away to-day."

"What is that?" said Mrs. Clackett. "Oh, yes, I could not keep away from my church! Good young gentlemen, I shall never forget your kindness."

We stopped to hear no more. We were overjoyed with the success of our plot. Away we ran to our companions, and, without stopping to explain, cried out:

"The chair! the chair! We shall have a guy, the best in the whole country!"

So away we ran with the chair, and all our other preparations for dressing and tying and securing.

The whole party surrounded the chair, some pushing, some pulling. When, however, we got within a convenient distance of the old lady's hut, Hardy and the others stepped on one side, and placed the helmet, coat, lantern, matches, etc., under a hedge, to be ready when required, while Quidd, Sapskull, and myself went with the chair to the old lady's cottage.

When we got there we found her spruce and prim with her best black silk bonnet, something in shape like a coal-scuttle, her stick in her hand, and her shoes on her feet. We drove up the chair in fine style. There were several cottages close by, and the neighbors came out to see the old lady ride. At last some one who knew Quidd said:

"Why, that is the lawyer's son. Sure enough old Goody has got some money left her."

So then there was a talking and surmising, and before Goody got to church it was reported all over the town that she was made the possessor of several thousand pounds prize-money; that she was to be a lady, and ride in her carriage. Being sent for, as it was supposed, by the lawyer must be for something-a large legacy, no doubt.

The chair wheeled on with Goody in it. The boys looked as if they were up to something, and sure enough they were. When they came to that part of the lane at which the various habiliments had been left, the chair stopped, and out rushed the other conspirators.

"Do not be alarmed, Goody," said Hardy. "We are only going to make a guy of you for an hour or two. No one shall harm you, and you shall have all the money we get."

"I want to go to church-I want to go to church!" said the old lady, and tried to get out of the chair.

Hardy, however, very dexterously threw some cord round the arms, and tied the poor old creature down.

"We won't hurt you, Goody," said he. "We only want you for a guy. You shall have all the money."

"I won't be a guy! I won't be a guy!" said Goody. "I do not want any money. Let me out! let me out!"

She then made a blow with her broomstick, and struck Master Hardy on the nose, from which the blood flowed freely. This, however, only made him the more determined, and in a few minutes the poor old woman's arms were secured as well as her legs.

"Oh, help, neighbors! They are going to burn me!" said the old lady, and then she fell coughing, for she had long suffered from asthma.

While convulsed with this fit, the boys took the opportunity to besmear her face with red and black paint, and to place the helmet on her head, and the coat round her, so that the arms hung on each side with nothing on them. The chair was then crammed with straw, and the lantern and the matches suspended from it. In this state the chair was wheeled rapidly along in the direction of the town.

Other boys soon joined, and surrounded the vehicle, shouting and laughing. The old lady, made several ineffectual attempts to get out of the chair. She called out, "A plot! a plot! a Popery plot! No Popery! Oh! I shall be killed!" and many such exclamations. The populace took this as a part of the character, and laughed most heartily. The greatest number of persons thought the guy to be a boy dressed up, and cried out that he acted his part well. No one suspected it was old Dame Clackett.

Away they went in the midst of the hubbub, up one street and down another, over the market-place and by the church. Just as the clock struck twelve the boys of the Free School came from the latter place, and joined the procession. It was now a national affair, and, as it proceeded from the church doors, it was thought to be the church Guy Fawkes-and so it was.

"Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted a hundred voices; and while Hardy and his companions held on the chair, Quidd and I went about with our hats to collect as much money as we could.

The old lady was vociferous, and struggled to get out. She flung her arms about, and cried out, "Deliver me from the