The Gold-Stealers A Story Of Waddy by Edward Dyson (iphone ebook reader .TXT) 📕

Exciting And Unsettled Life,  He Resolves To Subject Himself To Still

Severer Regimen: Not To Go Rambling About The World,  An Idling

Philosopher,  But To Tie Himself Down To One Spot,  And Take Violently

To A Course Of High Farming; Grow The Largest Turnips,  Breed The

Fattest South-Downs,  And The Heaviest Devonshires,  And Carry Off

Agricultural Prizes As Substitutes For Additional Waterloo Medals.

But This Was Too Severe A Contrast To His Late Mode Of Life,  And The

Prospect Soon Disgusted Him Utterly. Having Strong Influence To Back

Him,  He Now Thought Of Getting A Seat In Parliament,  And For A Moment

The Prophetic Cries Of 'Hear! Hear!' Arose From Both Sides Of A Full

House Of Commons. But He Knew That The Occasion,  Even More Than The

Man,  Makes The Orator; And In 'This Weak Piping Time Of Peace,' These

Cost-Counting,  Debt-Paying Days,  He Foresaw No Occasion That Could

Call Forth The Thunders Of Demosthenes Or Burke.--But Although A New

Light Shines In Upon Him,  And He Suddenly Makes Up His Mind That,

Since He Can No Longer Take The Field,  Because All The World Is Tired

Of Fighting,  And Yet More Of Paying The Bills Run Up In That Expensive

Diversion,  He Will Write The Narrative Of The Campaigns In Which He

Had Taken Part,  Without Letting The '_Quorum Pars Magna Fui_' Fill Too

Large A Place In The Picture.--Where Can He Find So Much Of The

Materials Needed In The Construction Of His Work As In London? So To

London He Went.

The Season Was At Its Height,  And The Town Was Full. L'Isle'S Object

Required That He Should Not Only Examine Many Musty Papers,  But See

Many Persons; As Some Of His Gayer Friends Soon Found Him Out,  And

Induced Him To Look In Upon The Inner Circles Of London Fashionable

Life,  To Which His Early And Long Absence From England Had Kept Him A

Stranger.

It So Happened That Lord Strathern Had Come Up From His Moors,  Where

The Winter Had Got Too Cold For Him (The Climate Had Changed Much

Sinu

Rush At Conclusions In That Desperate Way,' Said Harry.

Mrs. Hardy Shook An Impressive Forefinger At The Boy.

'You Will Say Nothing To Anybody Of Our Intentions,  Richard.'

'No,' Said Dick Simply; But That Word Given To Mrs. Hardy Was A Sacred

Oath,  Steel-Bound And Clamped.

The School-Ground Next Morning At Nine O'Clock Showed Little Of Its Usual

Activity. Most Of The Boys Were Gathered Near Sam Brierly'S Gothic

Portico,  Now In Unpicturesque Ruins And Hanging Limply To The School

Front Like An Excrescence. Here Richard Haddon And Edward Mcknight Were

Standing In attitudes Of Extreme Unconcern,  Heroes And Objects Of

Respectful Admiration,  But Nevertheless Inwardly Ill At Ease And

Possessed With Sore Misgivings. Some Of Their Mates Were Offering Sage

Advice On A Matter That Concerned Them Most Nearly: How To Take Cuts From

A Cane So As To Receive The Least Possible Amount Of Hurt. Peterson Was

Full Of Valuable Information.

'See,  You Stan' So,' He Said,  Giving Rather A Good Imitation Of An

Unhappy Scholar In The Act Of Receiving Condign Punishment,  'Holdin' Yer

Hand Like This,  You Know,  Keepin' Yer Eye On Jo; An' Jes' When His Nibs

Comes Down You Shoves Yer Hand Forwards,  That Sort,  An' It Don'T Hurt Fer

Sour Apples.'

'Don'T Cut No More'N Nothin' At All,' Added The Boy 'Who Was Called

Moonlight,  In cheerful Corroboration.

Ted,  Who Was Very Pale,  And Had A Hunted Look In His Eyes,  Nodded His

Head Hopefully,  And Rehearsed The Act With Pathetic Gravity.

The Little Girls,  Who Should Have Been At The Other End Of The Ground,

Clustered At The Corner And Peeped Round The Portico,  Some Giggling,

Others Fully Seized Of The Gravity Of The Situation. Dick In Spite Of His

Fine Air Of Sang Froid Was Well Aware That There Was One Little Girl

There,  A Pretty Little Girl Of About Ten,  With Brown Hair And Dark

Serious Eyes,  Who Was Suffering Keenest Apprehensions On His Behalf,  And

Who Would Weep With Quite Shameless Abandonment When It Came To His Turn

To Endure The Torments Mr. Joel Ham Knew So Well How To Inflict. Dick Was

Rather Superior To Little Girls; His Tender Sentiment Was Usually

Lavished On Ladies Ten Or Twelve Years His Senior; But He Could Not Hide

From Himself The Fact That Kitty Grey'S Affection,  However Hopeless It

Might Be,  Was At Times Most Gratifying. Once He Had Resented Its

Manifestations With Bitterness,  Imagining That They Were Likely To Bring

Him Into Contempt And Undermine His Authority; And When She Interfered In

His Memorable Fight With Bill Cole And Fiercely Attacked His Opponent

With A Picket,  Cutting His Head And Incapacitating Him For Fighting For

The Rest Of The Day,  He Felt That He Could Never Forgive Her. She Had

Violated The Rule Of Battle And Outraged The Noble Principle Of Fair

Play; And,  Worse And Worse,  Had Disgraced Him In The Eyes Of The World By

Making Him Appear As A Weakling Seeking Protection Behind A Despised

Petticoat. He Reviled Kitty For That Action In Such Overwhelming Language

That The Poor Girl Fled In Tears,  And Next Day It Was Only With The

Greatest Difficulty That She Persuaded Him To Accept Two Pears And A

Blood-Alley As A Peace Offering.

Dolf Belman Came Later With A Little Comfort.

'Gotter Junk O' Rosum,' He Said,  Fumbling In His School-Bag.

'Hoo! Have You Though?' Said Parrot Cann. 'Rosum'S Great. Put Some On My

Hand Oust When I Went To Ole Pepper'S School At Yarraman,  An' Near Died

Laughin' When He Gave Me Twenty Cuts Fer Copy-In' Me Sums.'

The Boys Clustered About Dolf,  Who Produced A Piece Of Resin About The

Size Of A Hen'S Egg,  And Waved It Triumphantly.

'You Pound It Up Wif A Rock,' Said He Confidently,  'An' Rub It On Yer

Hands.'

The Pounding Process Was Begun At Once,  Amidst A Babel Of Opinions. It

Was A Fond Illusion Amongst The Boys That Resin So Applied Deadened The

Effects Of The Cane. It Had Been Tried Scores Of Times Without In The

Least Mitigating The Agony Of Ham'S Cuts,  But The Faith Of Youth Is Not

Easily Shaken; So Ted'S Spirits Revived Wonderfully,  And Dick Developed A

Keen Interest In The Pounding. Dolf Pulverised The 'Rosum,' Declaring

That It Should Be Powdered In One Particular Way Which Was A Great Secret

Known Only To A Happy Few. If It Were Powdered In any Other Way,  The

Resin Lost Its Efficacy As A Protection,  And Might Even Aggravate The

Pain. Several Boys Volunteered Testimony In Support Of Dolf'S Claim,

Telling Of The Strange Immunity They Had Enjoyed On Various Occasions

After Applying The Resin,  And Peter Queen Distinctly Remembered 'A Feller

Up To Clunes' Who,  By A Judicious Use Of The Powder,  Was Enabled To Defy

All Authority And Preserve An Attitude Of Hilarious Derision Under The

Most Awful Tortures.

'This Here Cove He Useter Have Hisself Rubbed All Over Wif Rosum Every

Mornin',  Then He'D Go To School An' Kick Up Ole Boots. What'D He Care? My

Word,  He Was A Terror!'

Dolf Took Up The Theme,  And Enlarged Upon The Virtues Of Resin,

Particularly That Resin Of His,  Which Was The Very Best Kind Of Resin For

The Purpose And Had Been Specially Commended By An Old Swaggie With One

Eye,  Who Gave It To Him For A Four-Bladed Knife And A Clay Pipe. So Great

Was The Effect Of These Representations That Before Dick And Ted Had

Transferred The Powder To Their Pockets They Had Become Objects Of Envy

Rather Than Commiseration,  And One Or Two Of Their Mates Would Gladly

Have Changed Places With Them On The Spot.

'Wouldn'T Care If I Was In Fer It,  'Stead O' You,  Dick,' Said Peterson.

'Mus' Be An Awful Lark To Have Hamlet Layin' It On,  An' You Not Feelin'

It All The Time.'

'My Oath I' Said Jacker Mack Feelingly.

'Good Morning,  Boys.'

Joel Ham,  B.A.,  Had Stolen In amongst Them,  And Stood There In an Odd

Crow-Like Attitude,  His Mottled Face Screwed Into An Expression Of

Quizzical Amiability,  And His Daily Bottle Sticking Obtrusively From The

Inside Lining Of His Old Coat. The Lads Scattered Sheepishly.

'Peterson,' He Said,  Blinking His Pale Lashes A Dozen Times In Rapid

Succession,  'The Boy Who Thinks He Can Outwit His Dear Master Is An

Egotist,  And Egotism,  Peterson,  Is The Thing Which Keeps Us From

Profiting By The Experiences Of Other Fools.'

'I Dunno What Yer Talkin' About,' Answered Peter Son,  With Heavy

Resentment.

Mr. Ham Blinked Again For Nearly Half A Minute.

'Of Course Not,' He Said,  'Of Course Not,  My Boy.' Then He Turned To Dick

And Ted With Quiet Courtesy. 'Good Morning,  Richard. Good Morning,

Edward.'

Ted,  Who Was Painfully Conscious Of The Large Ink-Splashes On The

Master'S White Trousers,  Kicked Awkwardly At A Buried Stone,  But Dick

Replied Cheerily Enough.

The Attitude Of The Master Throughout That Morning Was Quite Inexplicable

To The Scholars; He Made No Allusion Whatever To The Crimes Of Which Dick

And Ted Had Been Guilty,  And Gave No Hint That He Harboured Any

Intentions That Were Not Entirely Generous And Friendly. The Two

Culprits,  Working With Quite Astounding Assiduity,  Were Beset With

Conflicting Emotions. Dick,  Who Had A Vague Sort Of Insight Into The

Master'S Character,  Was Prepared For The Worst,  And Yet Not Blind To The

Possibility Of A Free Pardon. Ted,  After The First Hour,  Was Joyous And

Over-Confident.

Mr. Peterson Called During The Morning And Conferred With Joel For A Few

Minutes. The Gaping School Knew What That Meant,  And Awaited The Out Come

With The Most Anxious Interest. Mr. Peterson,  A Six-Foot Dane,  An

Engine-Driver At The Stream,  And Billy'S Father,  Was Volunteering For

Service In case Mr. Ham Should Need Assistance In dealing With The Two

Culprits; But Joel Sent Him Away,  And The Boys Breathed Freely Again.

Their Confidence In dolf'S 'Rosum' Did Not Leave Them Quite Blind To The

Advantages Of An Amicable Settlement Of Their Little Difference With Mr.

Ham.

It Was Not Until The Boys Were Marching Out For The Dinner Hour,

Satisfied At Last All Was Well,  That Joel Seemed Suddenly To Recollect,

And He Called After Ted,  Blighting The Poor Youth'S New-Born Happiness

And Filling His Small Soul With A Great Apprehension.

'Teddy,' He Called,  'You Willd Be No Absolute Impropriety In My Asking A Good Deal,"

Said L'Isle,  In Tones That Reminded Lady Mabel Of Some Witching

Moments In elvas,  "I Will Not Make The Blunder