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Quicksilver; The Boy With No Skid To His Wheel, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 4. The Choice Of A Boy

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_ CHAPTER FOUR. THE CHOICE OF A BOY

Next morning Dr Grayson took his gold-headed cane, and walked down to the workhouse.

Upon dragging at the bell the porter opened the gate obsequiously, and sent a messenger to tell the master Dr Grayson had called.

"Good morning, Hippetts," said the doctor, who being a Poor-Law Guardian, and a wealthy inhabitant of the place, was received with smiles by the important master.

"Good morning, sir. Called to look round."

"No, Hippetts, no," said the doctor, in the tone and manner of one making an inquiry about some ordinary article of merchandise; "got any boys?"

"Boys, sir; the house swarms with them."

"Ah, well, show me some."

"Show you some, sir?"

"Yes. I want a boy."

"Certainly, sir. This way, sir. About what age, sir!"

"Eleven or twelve--not particular," said the doctor. Then to himself: "About the age of young Danby."

"I see, sir," said the master. "Stout, strong, useful boy for a buttons."

"Nonsense!" said the doctor testily, "I want a boy to adopt."

"Oh!" said the master staring, and wondering whether rich philosophical Dr Grayson was in his right mind.

He led the way along some whitewashed passages, and across a gravel yard, to a long, low building, from which came the well-known humming hum of many voices, among which a kind of chorus could be distinguished, and from time to time the sharp striking of a cane upon a desk, followed by a penetrating "Hush! hush!"

As the master opened the door, a hot puff of stuffy, unpleasantly close air came out, and the noise ceased as if by magic, though there were about three hundred boys in the long, open-roofed room.

The doctor cast his eye round and saw a crowd of heads, the schoolmaster, and besides these--whitewash. The walls, the ceiling, the beams were all whitewashed. The floor was hearth-stoned, but it seemed to be whitewashed, and even the boys' faces appeared to have been touched over with a thin solution laid on with the whitewash brush.

Every eye was turned upon the visitor, and the doctor frowned as he looked round at the pallid, wan-looking, inanimate countenances which offered themselves to his view. The boys were not badly fed; they were clean; they were warmly clad; but they looked as if the food they ate did them no good, and was not enjoyed; as if they were too clean; and as if their clothes were not comfortable. Every face seemed to have been squeezed into the same mould, to grow it into one particular make, which was inexpressive, inanimate, and dull, while they all wore the look of being on the high-road to old-manism without having been allowed to stop and play on the way, and be boys.

"Hush! hush!" came from the schoolmaster, and a pin might have been heard to fall.

The boys devoured the doctor with their eyes. He was a stranger. It was something to see, and it was a break in the horrible monotony of their existence. Had they known the object of the visit, a tremendous yell would have arisen, and it would have been formed of two words--"Take me."

It was considered a model workhouse school, too, one of which the guardians were proud. There was no tyranny, no brutality, but there was endless drill and discipline, and not a scrap of that for which every boy's heart naturally yearns;--"Home, sweet home."

No amount of management can make that and deck it with a mother's love; and it must have been the absence of these elements which made the Coleby boys look like three hundred white-faced small old men.

"Now, let me see, sir," said the master; "of course the matter will have to be laid before the Board in the usual form, but you will make your selection now. Good light, sir, to choose."

Mr Hippetts did not mean it unkindly; but he too spoke as if he were busy over some goods he had to sell.

"Let me see. Ah! Coggley, stand out."

Coggley, a very thin boy of thirteen, a little more whitewashy than the rest, stood out, and made a bow as if he were wiping his nose with his right hand, and then curving it out at the doctor.

He was a nice, sad-looking boy, with railways across his forehead, and a pinched-in nose; but he was very thin, and showed his shirt between the top of his trousers and the bottom of his waistcoat, instead of upon his chest, while it was from growth, not vanity, that he showed so much ankle and wrist.

"Very good boy, sir. Had more marks than any one of his age last year."

"Won't do," said the doctor shortly.

"Too thin," said Mr Hippetts to himself. "Bunce!" he shouted.

Bunce stood out, or rather waddled forth, a stoutly-made boy with short legs,--a boy who, if ever he had a chance, would grow fat and round, with eyes like two currants, and a face like a bun.

Bunce made a bow like a scoop upside down.

"Another excellent boy, sir," said Mr Hippetts. "I haven't a fault to find with him. He is now twelve years old, and he--"

"Won't do," said the doctor crossly.

"Go back, Bunce," cried the master. "Pillett, stand out. Now here, sir, is a lad whom I am sure you will like. Writes a hand like copperplate. Age thirteen, and very intelligent."

Pillett came forward eagerly, after darting a triumphant look at Coggley and Bunce. He was a wooden-faced boy, who seemed to have hard brains and a soft head, for his forehead looked nubbly, and there were rounded off corners at the sides.

"Let Dr Grayson hear you say--"

"No, no, Hippetts; this is not an examination," cried the doctor testily. "That is not the sort of boy I want. He must be a bright, intelligent lad, whom I can adopt and take into my house. I shall treat him exactly as if he were my own son, and if he is a good lad, it will be the making of him."

"Oh! I see, sir," said Mr Hippetts importantly. "Go back, Pillett. I have the very boy. Gloog!"

Pillett went back, and furtively held up his fist at triumphant Gloog, who came out panting as if he had just been running fast, and as soon as he had made the regulation bow, he, from old force of habit, wiped his nose on his cuff.

"No, no, no, no," cried the doctor, without giving the lad a second glance, the first at his low, narrow forehead and cunning cast of features being quite enough.

"But this is an admirably behaved boy, sir," protested Mr Hippetts. "Mr Sibery here can speak very highly of his qualifications."

"Oh yes, sir," put in the schoolmaster with a severe smile and a distant bow, for he felt annoyed at not being consulted.

"Yes, yes," said the doctor; "but not my style of boy."

"Might I suggest one, sir!" said Mr Sibery deferentially, as he glanced at the king who reigned over the whole building.

"To be sure," said the doctor. "You try."

Mr Hippetts frowned, and Mr Sibery wished he had not spoken; but the dark look on the master's brow gave place to an air of triumph as the schoolmaster introduced seven boys, one after the other, to all of whom the visitor gave a decided negative.

"Seems a strange thing," he said, "that out of three hundred boys you cannot show one I like."

"But all these are excellent lads, sir," said the master deprecatingly.

"Humph!"

"Best of characters."

"Humph!"

"Our own training, sir. Mr Sibery has spared no pains, and I have watched over the boys' morals."

"Yes, I dare say. Of course. Here, what boy's that?"

He pointed with his cane to a pair of round blue eyes, quite at the back.

"That, sir--that lame boy!"

"No, no; that young quicksilver customer with the curly poll."

"Oh! that, sir! He wouldn't do," cried the two masters almost in a breath.

"How do you know!" said the doctor tartly.

"Very bad boy indeed, sir, I'm sorry to say," said the schoolmaster.

"Yes, sir; regular young imp; so full of mischief that he corrupts the other boys. Can't say a word in his favour; and, besides, he's too young."

"How old?"

"About eleven, sir."

"Humph! Trot him out."

"Obed Coleby," said the master in a severe voice.

"Coleby, eh?"

"Yes, sir. Son of a miserable tramp who died some years ago in the House. No name with him, so we called him after the town."

"Humph!" said the doctor, as the little fellow came, full of eagerness and excitement, after kicking at Pillett, who put out a leg to hinder his advance.

The doctor frowned, and gazed sternly at the boy, taking in carefully his handsome, animated face, large blue eyes, curly yellow hair, and open forehead: not that his hair had much opportunity for curling--the workhouse barber stopped that.

The boy's face was as white as those of his companions, but it did not seem depressed and inanimate, for, though it was thin and white, his mouth was rosy and well-curved, and the slightly parted lips showed his pearly white teeth.

"Humph!" said the doctor, as the bright eyes gazed boldly into his.

"Where's your bow, sir?" said the master sternly.

"Oh! I forgot," said the boy quickly; and he made up for his lapse by bowing first with one and then the other hand.

"A sad young pickle," said the master. "Most hopeless case, sir. Constantly being punished."

"Humph! You young rascal!" said the doctor sternly. "How dare you be a naughty boy!"

The little fellow wrinkled his white forehead, and glanced at the schoolmaster, and then at Mr Hippetts, before looking back at the doctor.

"I d'know," he said, in a puzzled way.

"You don't know, sir!"

"No. I'm allus cotching it."

"Say _sir_, boy," cried the master.

"Allus cotching of it, sir, and it don't do me no good."

"Really, Dr Grayson--"

"Wait a bit, Mr Hippetts," said the doctor more graciously. "Let me question the boy."

"Certainly, sir. But he has a very bad record."

"Humph! Tells the truth, though," said the doctor. "Here, sir, what's your name?"

"Obed Coleby."

"_Sir_!" cried the master.

"Obed Coleby, _sir_," said the boy quickly, correcting himself.

"What a name!" ejaculated the doctor.

"Yes, ain't it? I hates it, sir."

"Oh! you do?"

"Yes; the boys all make fun of it, and call me Bed, and Go-to-bed, and Old Bedstead, and when they don't do that, they always call me Old Coal bag or Coaly."

"That will do, sir. Don't chatter so," said Mr Sibery reprovingly.

"Please, sir, he asked me," said the boy in protest; and there was a frank, bluff manner in his speech which took with the doctor.

"Humph!" he said. "Would you like to leave this place, and come and live with me!"

The boy puckered up his face, took a step forward, and the master made a movement as if to send him back; but the doctor laid his hand upon his arm, while the boy gazed into his eyes for some moments with wonderfully searching intentness.

"Well?" said the doctor. "Will you?"

The boy's face smoothed; a bright light danced in his eyes; and, as if full of confidence in his own judgment, he said eagerly--

"Yes; come along;" and he held out his hand.

"And leave all your schoolfellows!" said the doctor.

The boy's bright face clouded directly, and he turned to gaze back at the crowd of closely cropped heads.

"He'll be glad enough to go," said the schoolmaster.

"Yes," said Mr Hippetts; "a most ungrateful boy."

The little fellow--stunted of his age--swung sharply round; and they saw that his eyes were brimming over as he looked reproachfully from one to the other.

"I didn't want to be a bad un, sir," he said. "I did try, and--and-- and--I'll stop here, please, and--"

He could say no more, for his face was working, and, at last, in shame and agony of spirit, he covered his face with his hands, and let himself drop in a heap on the stone floor, sobbing hysterically.

"Coleby! Stand up, sir!" cried the master sternly.

"Let him be, Mr Hippetts, if you please," said the doctor, with dignity; and he drew in a long breath, and remained for some moments silent, while the whole school stared with wondering eyes, and the two masters exchanged glances.

"Strange boy," said Mr Hippetts.

Then the doctor bent down slowly, and laid his hand upon the lad's shoulder.

The little fellow started up, flinching as if from a blow, but as soon as he saw who had touched him, he rose to his knees, and caught quickly at the doctor's extended hand, while the look in the visitor's eyes had so strange an influence upon him that he continued to gaze wonderingly in the stern but benevolent face.

"I think you'll come with me?" said the doctor.

"Yes, I'd come. But may I?"

"Yes; I think he may, Mr Hippetts?" said the doctor.

"Yes, sir; of course, sir, if you wish it," said the master, with rather an injured air; "but I feel bound to tell you the boy's character."

"Yes; of course."

"And to warn you, sir, that you will bring him back in less than a week."

"No, Mr Hippetts," said the doctor quietly; "I shall not bring him back."

"Well, sir; if you are satisfied I have nothing to say."

"I am satisfied, Mr Hippetts."

"But he is not so old as you said, sir."

"No."

"And you wanted a boy of good character."

"Yes; but I recall all I said. That is the boy I want. Can I take him at once?"

"At once, sir!" said the master, as the little fellow, with his face a study, listened eagerly, and looked from one to the other. "I shall have to bring your proposal before the Board."

"That is to say, before me and my colleagues," said the doctor, smiling. "Well, as one of the Guardians, I think I may venture to take the boy now, and the formal business can be settled afterwards."

"Oh yes, sir; of course. And I venture to think, sir, that it will not be necessary to go on with it."

"Why, Mr Hippetts?"

"Because," said the master, with a peculiar smile which was reflected in the schoolmaster's face; "you are sure to bring him back."

"I think I said before I shall not bring him back," replied the doctor coldly.

The master bowed, and Mr Sibery cleared his throat and frowned at the boys.

"Then I think that's all," said the doctor, laying his hand upon the boy's head.

"Do I understand you, sir, to mean that you want to take him now?"

"Directly."

"But his clothes, sir; and he must be--"

"I want to take him directly, Mr Hippetts, with your permission, and he will need nothing more from the Union."

"Very good, sir; and I hope that he will take your kindness to heart. Do you hear, Coleby? And be a very good boy to his benefactor, and--"

"Yes, yes, yes, Mr Hippetts," said the doctor, cutting him short. "I'm sure he will. Now, my man, are you ready?"

"Yes, sir," cried the boy eagerly; "but--"

"Well?" said the doctor kindly.

"I should like to say good-bye to some of the chaps, and I've got something to give 'em."

"Indeed! what?"

"Well, sir; I want to give Dick Dean my mouse, and Tommy Robson my nicker, and share all my buttons among the chaps in my dormitory; and then I've six pieces of string and a pair of bones, and a sucker."

"Go and share them, and say good-bye to them all," said the doctor, drawing a breath full of satisfaction; and the boy darted away full of excitement.

"May I say a word to the boys, Mr Sibery?" said the doctor, smiling.

"Certainly, sir."

"Will you call for silence?"

The master called, and the doctor asked the lads to give their old schoolfellow a cheer as he was going away.

They responded with a shout that made the windows rattle.

"And now," said the doctor, "I'm going to ask Mr Hippetts to give you all a holiday, and I am leaving threepence a piece to be distributed among you, so that you may have a bit of fun."

Mr Hippetts smiled as he took the money, and the boys cheered again, in the midst of which shouts the doctor moved off with his charge, but only for his _protege_ to break away from him, and run to offer his hand to Mr Sibery, who coughed slightly, and shook hands limply, as if he were conferring a great favour.

The boy then held out his hand to the master, and he also shook hands in a dignified way.

"Shall I send the boy on, sir?" said Mr Hippetts.

"Thanks, no, Hippetts; I'll take him with me."

"Would you like a fly, sir?"

"No, Hippetts; I'm not ashamed for people to see what I do. Come along, my lad."

"Please, sir; mayn't I say good-bye to Mother Curdley?"

"Mother Curdley? Who is she!"

"Nurse, sir."

"The woman who had charge of him when he was a tiny fellow."

"Ah! to be sure. Yes, certainly," said the doctor. "He may, of course?"

"Oh! certainly, sir. Run on, boy, and we'll follow."

"No larks," said the boy sharply, as he looked at the doctor.

"No; I shall not run away, my man."

The boy darted down a long whitewashed passage, and the doctor said:--

"I understand you to say that he has no friends whatever!"

"None, sir, as far as we know. Quite a foundling."

"That will do," said the doctor; and while the boy was bidding good-bye to the old woman who had tended the sick tramp, the master led the way to the nursery, where about a dozen children were crawling about and hanging close to a large fire-guard. Others were being nursed on the check aprons of some women, while one particularly sour creature was rocking a monstrous cradle, made like a port-wine basket, with six compartments, in every one of which was an unfortunate babe.

"Which he's a very good affectionate boy, sir," said a woman, coming up with the doctor's choice clinging to her apron; "and good-bye, and good luck, and there, God bless you, my dear!" she said, as she kissed the boy in a true motherly way, he clinging to her as the only being he had felt that he could love.

That burst of genuine affection won Mother Curdley five shillings, which she pocketed with one hand, as she wiped her eyes with the other, and then had a furtive pinch of snuff, which made several babies sneeze as if they had bad colds.

"Very eccentric man," said Mr Hippetts.

"Very," assented Mr Sibery.

"But he'll bring the young ruffian back."

The doctor did not hear, for he was walking defiantly down the main street, waving his gold-headed cane, while the boy clung to his hand, and walked with bent head, crying silently, but fighting hard to keep it back.

The doctor saw it, and pressed the boy's hand kindly.

"Yes," he said to himself; "I'll show old Danby now. The very boy I wanted. Ah," he added aloud; "here we are." _

Read next: Chapter 5. A "Reg'lar" Bad One

Read previous: Chapter 3. Doctor Grayson's Theory

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