Quicksilver Part 10

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"Well, I said no," cried the doctor testily. "Must wait, I suppose; but we can make him look decent."

"Are you--are you going--" faltered Helen.

"Going? Going where!"

"Going to have him with us, papa, or to let him be with the servants?"

said Helen rather nervously; but she regretted speaking the next moment.



"Now, my dear child, don't be absurd," cried the doctor. "How am I to prove my theory by taking the boy from the lowest station of society and making him, as I shall do, a gentleman, if I let him run wild with the servants!"

"I--I beg your pardon, papa."

"Humph! Granted. Now, what's to be done first? The boy is clean?"

"Oh yes."

"Can't improve him then, that way; but I want as soon as possible to get rid of that nasty, pasty, low-cla.s.s pallor. One does not see it in poor people's children, as a rule, while these Union little ones always look sickly to me. You must feed him up, Helen."

"I have begun, papa," she said, smiling.

"Humph! Yes. Clothes. Yes; we must have some clothes, and--oh, by the way, I had forgotten. Here, my boy."

The lad jumped up with alacrity, and came to the doctor's side boldly-- looking keenly from one to the other.

"What did you say your name was!"

"Bed--Obed Coleby."

"Hah!" cried the doctor; "then we'll do away with that at once. Now, what shall we call you!"

"I d'know," said the boy, laughing. "Jack?"

"No, no," said the doctor thoughtfully, while Helen looked on rather amused at her father's intent manner, and the quick bird-like movements of their visitor.

For the boy, after watching the doctor for a few moments, grew tired, and finding himself unnoticed, dropped down on the carpet, took four pebbles from his pocket, laid them on the back of his right hand, and throwing them in the air, caught them separately by as many rapid s.n.a.t.c.hes in the air.

"Do that again," cried the doctor, suddenly becoming interested.

The boy showed his white teeth, threw the stones in the air, and caught them again with the greatest ease.

"That's it, Helen, my dear," cried the doctor triumphantly. "Cleverness of the right hand--dexterity. Capital name."

"Capital name, papa?"

"Yes; Dexter! Good Latin sound. Fresh and uncommon. Dexter--Dex.

Look here, sir. No more Obed. You shall be called Dexter."

"All right," said the boy.

"And if you behave yourself well, perhaps we shall shorten it into Dex."

"d.i.c.k's better," said the boy sharply.

"No, it is not, sir; Dex."

"Well, Dix, then," said the boy, throwing one stone up high enough to touch the ceiling, and in catching at it over-handed, failing to achieve his object, and striking it instead, so that it flew against the wall with a loud rap.

"Put those stones in your pocket, sir," cried the doctor to the boy, who ran and picked up the one which had fallen, looking rather abashed.

"Another inch, and it would have gone through that gla.s.s."

"Yes. Wasn't it nigh!" cried the boy.

"Here, stop! Throw them out of that window."

The boy's brow clouded over.

"Let me give them to some one at the school; they're such nice round ones."

"I said, throw them out of the window, sir."

"All right," said the boy quickly; and he threw the pebbles into the garden.

"Now, then; look here, sir--or no," said the doctor less sternly. "Look here, my boy."

The doctor's manner influenced the little fellow directly, and he went up and laid his hand upon his patron's knee, looking brightly from face to face.

"Now, mind this: in future you are to be Dexter."

"All right: Dexter Coleby," said the boy.

"No, no, no, no!" cried the doctor testily. "Dexter Grayson; and don't keep on saying 'All right.'"

"All--"

The boy stopped short, and rubbed his nose with his cuff.

"Hah! First thing, my dear. Twelve pocket-handkerchiefs, and mark them 'Dexter Grayson.'"

"What? twelve handkerchies for me--all for me?"

"Yes, sir, all for you; and you are to use them. Never let me see you rub your nose with your cuff again."

The boy's mouth opened to say, "All right," but he checked himself.

"That's right!" cried the doctor. "I see you are teachable. You were going to say 'all right.'"

"You told me not to."

"I did; and I'm very pleased to find you did not do it."

Quicksilver Part 10

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Quicksilver Part 10 summary

You're reading Quicksilver Part 10. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: George Manville Fenn already has 451 views.

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