Patience Wins Part 54

"Well, that is shabby," I cried.

"What is, boy?" said Uncle Jack.

"To send me off like this. Why, you'll all break down without me."

"No, no; that does not follow," said Uncle Bob.

"Ah, won't it! You'll see," I said.

"Look here, Cob, be reasonable," exclaimed Uncle Jack, walking up and down the room in a very excited way. "You see, ever since you were born we've made a sort of playmate of you, and since you grew older, and have been down here with us, you know we have not treated you as if you were a boy."

"Well, no, uncle, I suppose you have not."

"We have talked with you, consulted with you, and generally behaved towards you as if you were a young man."

"And now all at once you turn round and punish me by treating me as if I were a little boy."

"No, no, my lad; be reasonable. We have been consulting together."

"Without me."

"Yes, without you; because we felt that we were not doing you justice-- that we were not behaving as good brothers to your mother, in letting you go on sharing these risks."

"But there may be no more, uncle."

"But there will be a great many more, my boy," said Uncle Jack solemnly; "and what would our feelings be if some serious accident were to happen to you?"

"Just the same, Uncle Jack," I cried, "as mine would be, and my father's and mother's, if some accident were to happen to you."

Uncle Jack wrinkled up his broad forehead, stared hard at me, and then, in a half-angry, half amused way, he went to the table, took up an imaginary piece of soap and began to rub it in his palms.

"I wash my hands of this fellow, boys," he said. "d.i.c.k, you are the oldest; take him in hand, dress him down, give him sixpence to buy hardbake and lollipops, and send him about his business."

"Make it half-a-crown, uncle," I cried, with my cheeks burning with anger; "and then you might buy me a toy-horse too--one with red wafers all over it, and a rabbit-skin tail."

"My dear Cob," said Uncle Jack, "why will you be so wilfully blind to what is good for you?"

My cheeks grew hotter, and if I had been alone I should have burst into a pa.s.sion of tears, but I could not do such a thing then, when I wanted to prove to these three that I was fit to be trusted and too old to be sent home.

"We do not come to this conclusion without having carefully thought it out, boy," cried Uncle Bob.

"Very well, then!" I cried, almost beside myself with pa.s.sion.

"Confess now," said Uncle Bob; "haven't you often felt very much alarmed at having to keep watch of a night in that lonely factory?"

"Of course I have."

"And wished yourself at home?" said Uncle d.i.c.k.

"Scores of times, uncle."

"Well, then, now we wish you to go, feeling that it is best for you, and you turn restive as that jacka.s.s we hired for you to ride down in Ess.e.x."

"Haven't you three fellows been teaching me ever since I was a little tot, to try and be a man?"

"Yes," said Uncle d.i.c.k.

"When I've tumbled down and knocked the skin off my knees haven't you said 'don't cry: be a man!'"

"Oh yes! Guilty!" said Uncle d.i.c.k.

"If I fell out of the swing didn't you hold your cool hand to the great lump on my head and tell me that I must try to bear it without howling: like a man?"

"Yes, boy, yes."

"And when I broke my arm, after getting up the rock after the gulls'

eggs, didn't you tell me about the Spartan boys?"

"I did, Cob, I did."

"Yes, of course you did," I cried indignantly. "You were all three alike: always teaching me to bear pain and be courageous, and master my natural cowardice and be a man. Now didn't you?"

"Ay, ay, ay! Captain Cob," they chorused.

"And here," I cried pa.s.sionately, "after fighting all these years and making myself miserable so as to do exactly what you all taught me, now that there is a chance of showing that I know my lesson and have done well, you all treat me like a mollycoddle, and say to me by your looks: 'you're a poor cowardly little cub; go home to your mother and be nursed.'"

"Have you done with the soap?" said Uncle d.i.c.k, turning to Uncle Jack, as I stood there, feeling angry, pa.s.sionate, excited, and carried out of myself.

"Eh?" said Uncle Jack staring.

"I say, have you done with the metaphorical soap? I want to wash my hands of him too."

"It's too bad, uncle," I cried.

"Here, Bob," said Uncle d.i.c.k in his grim way, "you take him in hand."

"No, thank you," said Uncle Bob. "I'll trouble you for the soap when you've done."

"And now," I cried, speaking to them as I had never done before, "you make worse of it by laughing at me."

"No, no," cried Uncle d.i.c.k; "we were not laughing at you, but we do now;" and starting with a tremendous "Ha-ha-ha!" the others joined in, and I stalked out of the parlour and went up to my room, where I set to work, and in about ten minutes had all my belongings carefully packed in my little carpet-bag--the new one that had been bought for me--and the little bra.s.s padlock on and locked.

Just then the parlour door opened as I was looking out of my bed-room window at the smoke and glow over the town, and thinking that after all I liked the noise and dirt and busy toil always going on, knowing, as I did, how much it had to do with the greatness of our land.

"Cob!" came up Uncle d.i.c.k's big voice.

"Yes, uncle," I said quietly.

"Tea's ready."