Kitabı oku: «The Bad Family & Other Stories», sayfa 4

The Basket of Plumbs ¹

A poor girl, whose face was pale and sickly, and who led a little ragged child by the hand, came up one day to the door of a large house, and, seeing a boy standing there, said to him, 'Do, pray, sir, ask your mamma to buy these plumbs. There are four dozen in my basket.' George Loft took the basket to his mother, who counted the plumbs, and finding them right in number and that they were sound, good fruit, sent out to know the price. The girl asking more than Mrs. Loft thought they were worth, she put the plumbs again into the basket, and told George to carry them back, and say it did not suit her to buy them.

Now these plumbs were fresh picked from the tree; they had a fine bloom on them, and were very tempting to the eye. George loved plumbs above all other fruit, and he walked very slowly from the parlour with his eyes fixed on the basket. The longer he looked, the more he wished to taste them. One plumb, he thought, would not be missed; and as he put his hand in to take that one, two others lay close under his fingers. It was as easy to take three as one, and the three plumbs were taken and put into his pocket. When he reached the hall door and gave the basket back to the girl, his face was as red as a flame of fire, but she did not notice it, nor thought of counting her plumbs; for how could she suppose any one in that house would be so mean as to take from her little store!

It chanced that as the girl turned from the door, Mrs. Loft came to the parlour window, and, seeing the girl look so ill, she felt sorry she had not bought the plumbs. Therefore, throwing up the sash, she asked the cause of her sickly looks. The girl then told a sad story of distress: she had been ill of a fever; her parents had caught the disease of her, and were now very bad and not able to work for the support of their children. In the little garden of their cottage a plumb-tree grew, and she had picked the ripe plumbs and had come out to sell them that she might buy physic for her parents and food for herself and her hungry little sister. Mrs. Loft paid the girl the full price for her plumbs, gave her wine to carry to her sick parents and food for herself and the child, and bade her return the next day for more.

Soon after the grateful girl had left the house, Mrs. Loft, placing the fruit in her dessert-baskets, found that, instead of forty-eight, there were only forty-five plumbs; and, far from thinking her son had been guilty of the theft, she laid the blame on the girl, who she now thought had tried to impose on her. It was not the loss of three plumbs that Mrs. Loft cared for, but the want of an honest mind that gave her offence. She had meant to be a friend to the poor girl, but now she began to doubt the truth of her story; for Mrs. Loft thought if she could impose in one thing she might also in others. Deeming the girl therefore no longer worthy of her kindness, she gave orders for her to be sent away when she came on the morrow.

George had heard the whole: first, the tale of distress, and then his mother's censure of the blameless girl. He had not only taken from a poor, wretched creature a part of her little all, but had been the means of bringing a foul reproach upon her, while her parents, who might have been saved from greater distress by his mother's bounty, would now be left helpless, in sickness and in sorrow. All this cruel mischief he had done for the sake of eating three plumbs – he, too, who had never wanted food, clothes, nor anything a child need desire to possess. He felt the bitter pangs of guilt, and the fruit, whose shape and bloom had looked so tempting, was now as hateful as poison to the sight of George.

There was still a way left to make some amends: namely, to confess his fault to his mother. It did require some courage to do this; and when a boy throws away his sense of honour, no wonder his courage should forsake him. George could not resolve to disclose a crime to his mother, which he thought she never would find out. The first day in each week he had sixpence given him for pocket-money, and he laid a plan to save that money, and to bestow it for a month to come on the girl. This, he thought, was doing even more than justice: for as her three plumbs were only worth one penny, he should by this means give her two shillings for them, and save his own credit with his mamma. He wished with all his heart he had never touched the plumbs; but as he had done it, it seemed to him less painful to leave the poor girl to suffer the blame, than to accuse himself.

With this plan of further deceit in his mind, George went to dinner; but before the cloth was taken from the table he had reason enough to repent of his double error. Mrs. Loft, in paying for the plumbs, had given a number of half-pence, among which, unseen by her, a shilling had slipped. When the poor girl reached the cottage she found the shilling, and lost not a moment in coming back to restore it to its right owner. Mrs. Loft well knew that she who could be thus just in one instance must have an honest mind. Her doubts of the poor girl were at an end, but no sooner did she cast her eyes on George, than she read, in the deep blush that spread over his face, in his downcast look, and the trembling of his limbs, who was the guilty person.

Guilt not only fixes the stings of remorse within the bosom, but imprints its hateful mark upon the outward form.

The Choice of Friends

The moon was shining on a clear cold night, and it was near ten o'clock, and all the children of the village of Newton, except one, were in bed and asleep. That one, whose name was Frank Lawless, was above three miles from home, weeping with pain and fear, alone, forlorn, cold, and wretched, with no shelter but a leafless hedge and no seat but a hard stone; while his father and mother were running wildly about the fields and lanes, not knowing what had become of their naughty boy.

Frank Lawless had been playing truant that day, and was met by his father with a number of bad boys, to whom he ought not at any time to have spoken. They were the children of brickmakers, and most likely they had never been taught what was right; so that if they said wicked words, told lies, and took things which did not belong to them, one could scarcely wonder at it; but that Frank Lawless, who had the means of knowing the value of good conduct and good manners, should choose such boys for his friends and playfellows, was indeed most strange. Yet thus it was; their shouting, laughing, and vulgar mirth pleased Frank. They had also a great share of cunning, and found the way to manage him, so as to get from him what they wanted to have. When they told Frank that he was very handsome and very clever, and that it was a shame so fine a boy should be forced to go to school if he did not like it, he was silly enough to be pleased, and gave them in return his playthings and his money; nay, he would even take sugar, cakes, fruit, and sweetmeats from his mother's store-room to bestow on these ill-chosen friends; and their false pretence of love for him made him quite careless of gaining the real love of his father and mother.

On meeting his son in the midst of the brickmakers' children, Mr. Lawless² was very angry, and, taking him home by force, he gave him a severe reproof, and then locked him up in his chamber. Frank, who had lately grown very sullen and froward, was far from being sorry for his fault, and said to himself that his father was both cross and cruel, and wished to prevent his being happy. With these wicked thoughts in his head, he began to contrive how to make his escape; and the window not being very high above the ground, and having a vine growing up to it, whose branches would serve as a sort of ladder, he got out, reached the ground, and passing unseen through the garden-gate, ran with all his speed till he came up to the boys, who were still at the cruel sport of robbing birds'-nests in the lane where he had left them.

But he did not seem half as welcome to them now as in the morning, when he had brought a pocket full of apples, and as he said he was come to live with them, and should never go home again, their manner was quite changed. One took away his hat and another his shoes. They cut sticks to make a bonfire, and, having got a great pile, they made Frank carry it. The weight was too much for him, and when he let it fall, they gave him hard words and still harder blows. He now began to find that the service of the wicked is by no means so easy as to obey the commands of the good.

While Frank Lawless was toiling under his heavy load of sticks, the boys were laying a plan to rob an orchard. It was the autumn season of the year, and all the fruit of the orchard was gone, except the pears of one tree, which, as it stood very near the dwelling-house of the owner of the orchard, these boys had been afraid to climb. Now having Frank Lawless in their power, they thought of making him, in the dusk of the evening, commit the theft and run all the hazard, while they stayed in safety by the hedge, ready to receive the stolen fruit. Frank, dreading what might happen to him in the daring attempt, begged and prayed them not to force him there; but he had made himself a slave to hard task-masters, and they cuffed and kicked him, till, to escape from their hands, he climbed the tree.

Scarcely had Frank pulled half-a-dozen pears, when his false friends heard the farmer who owned the orchard come singing up the lane: and, to save themselves from being thought to have any concern with it, they began to pelt Frank with stones, and cry aloud – 'See, see, there is a boy robbing Farmer Wright's pear-tree.' Frank got down as quickly as he could, but not soon enough to escape the angry farmer, who gave him a most severe horse-whipping, while those who had brought him into this sad scrape stood laughing, hooting, and clapping their hands. It was useless to try to excuse himself; he had been seen in the tree, the pears were found in his pocket, and the farmer, after whipping him without mercy, pushed him out of the orchard and bade him be gone.

Smarting now with pain, and almost blinded by his tears, he ran to get away from the false and cruel boys who were making sport of what they had caused him to suffer, when one, still more wicked than the rest, threw a great stone after him, which, hitting his ankle-bone, gave him such extreme torture that he sank on the ground not able to proceed a step farther. The boys made off in alarm at what they had done, and Frank, in terror and pain, sat sobbing on a stone till he was found by his father, who had been searching for him in the greatest distress.

His father took him home, warmed and fed him and healed his bruises, though after such extreme bad conduct, he could not esteem and caress him like a good child. It was happy for Frank Lawless that he took the warning of that day. He had gained nothing but shame, pain, and sorrow by his choice of wicked friends, and from that time he chose with more wisdom. Good conduct brought him back to his father's favour, and now at ten o'clock at night, when the moon and stars were shining in the sky, and the air was cold and frosty, Frank Lawless was always snug in bed, like the rest of the good children of the little village of Newton.³