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About Google Book Search Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web at |http: //books .google .com/I r 600073887$ PICKLE AND HIS PAGE-BOY, OB, UNLOCKED FOE. * * I 1 I': L )"i !..• . d » «. • .% « > ( ii.AU (.(•!:■•, .•! - ' ' t. •^ \ \V \ 1 Thi: ^M -. I !*:.•; PK PICKLE AND HIS PAGE-BOY OR, UNLOCKED FOR % l^torg. BY CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. WALTEK SMITH (Late Mozlby), 34, KING ST., COVENT GARDEN. 1882. ^^ ^ r •^ V Bungay : Clay and Taylor^ Printers. c TO • SCAMP, AS OF Klir TO FIOELEL PICKLE AND HIS PAGE-BOY. CHAPTER I. Pickle Manners, as the boys called him, thought himself the chief person. at Langley Cottage. His forefathers came from the Isle of Skye, and from them he had inherited four short legs, two bright eyes, a coat like a door-mat, a dislike to milk, and a great liking for fish. He was free of the drawing-room and kitchen, and his mistress took him out most days with her. Every one had a good word for him except old Grant, if he was burying bones in the garden, and Mrs. Reid, if he gnawed them ui the kitchen, or came in with dirty paws. 2 Pickle and his Page-Bot. The worst of it was that they would wash him at least once a week, and comb out his hair, hurting him hor- ribly in pulling out the knots when it was matted. To be sure he felt very proud when once he was dry, but the washing and dressing were a dreadful operation. Old Grant held him fast and growled about it all the time, and as to the maids, why, all but old Mrs. Keid, he had but to show his teeth, and he could frighten them out of it in an instant. How could he have endured being curry-combed every time he went out, like his old friend Scug ! Scug was a pony, who had his name because he was exactly of the colour of a squirrel, and though of course his tail was not a brush, still it was long, and so pale in colour as to be not unlike that of the old white-tailed squirrel who some- times raced across the lawn or might be Pickle and his Page-Boy. 3 seen peeping now from one branch, now from another, of the oak trees. At least so said Miss Manners's nephews and nieces, and Scug knew his name, and would put back his ears and turn his head in answer to it. Scug was standing in his stable-yard, lifting up his hoofs one by one t(5 be washed. His carriage stood by with its shafts turned back, sticking up like an insect's horns. Pickle, meanwhile, looked on, licking the dust out of his paws, and the fluffy, mouse-coloured cat Dandelion was rubbing her head on the door-post, with her tail straight up and quivering at the tip by way of welcoming them home. Old Grant, the out-of-doors man, was bent nearly double to get at Scug's feet, and looked like some strange animal, with a scarlet X upon a blue and white striped back, and his voice came out from below the pony's nose as he answered Rosina 6 Pickle and his Page-Boy. youth, preparing to take off his coat, and looking about for a wisp of hay. Pickle smelt round in the mean time to make up his mind about him. But as a neat elderly maid-servant appeared at the door, Grant called out, " Hallo, Mrs. Reid, have you got a cradle ready ? This here says he is the new page ! Ha ! ha ! " " Why," exclaimed Mrs. Reid, *' how- ever did you miss Miss Manners ? SheVe been up to EUerby station for you." "She couldn't see him, he was so small ! " laughed Rosina. " Are you sure it ain't a mistake?" she added, in an undertone. "He is full of cheek, and it might be one of the young gentlemen having a joke with you." Mrs. Reid on this looked the boy well over, and said, " Well, and what's your name ? " " Robert Fairlie, ma'am," he said, turn- ing up a pair of very straightforward, honest eyes. Pickle and his Pagb-Boy. 7 " And where are your things then ? " "Porter said there was a cart coining by in the evening that would drop them here/* returned the boy. "And how could you miss the lady," repeated Mrs. Reid> *' when she took the trouble to drive over to Ellerby for you ? " " I did see that pony just as Fd got out of the station, and I thought to myself, ' I wonder if that's my pony,' but I never thought of her coming to meet me." " Well, I suppose it is right," said Mrs. Reid ; " but you are ever so much smaller than I thought for." " Grandfather don't hold with great big louts," was the ready reply, setting Rosina off giggling. "And how old are you?" asked Mrs. Reid. " Thirteen next March," was the reply, it being now May ; but the year he laid claim to did not impress the others much, for Grant exclaimed — 8 PicKL:fi AND HIS Page-Boy. " Well, I always heard as how nothing do grow up in foreign parts." "When did you see your mother?" said Mrs. Reid, still a little shaken by Rosina's doubt. " She came down with me to Waterloo station," was the answer. " She sent her love to you, if you are Mrs. Eeid, and her duty to Miss Manners; and, if you please, I have four new shirts, and three old ones, and ten collars, and five pair of socks, and seven handkerchiefs, and sheVe written it all down here, because she said she knew you would be a true friend, and would see as they came home from the wash all right. — Ho, old fellow, and what's your name ? " he added, patting Pickle. This message and the letter he produced removed all doubt from Mrs. Reid's mind, and she told the boy to come in and have a cup of tea, while she went to announce his arrival to her mistress. Pickle had decided to approve of the Pickle and his Page-Bot. 9 new-comer, and went snuggling up to his knees, and the cat jumped up on the table by him, and gave herself to be smoothed down by a hand that enjoyed the long soft fur. " Well, you are a beauty 1 " said the boy ; then, to the dog, " And what's your name, old fellow ? " " You needn't make yourself at home, my son," said old Gfant. " We don't want no babes here." " FU show you if I am such a baby, old chap," said Kobert, half angry, yet half perceiving that the old man was teasing him, and yet puzzled by the extreme slowness and heaviness of his speech. Throwing off his jacket, and showing a nice fresh pink spotted shirt and bright braces, he caught up a wisp of hay and began rubbing down Scug scientifically, hissing away like a groom of any age imaginable, while the pony turned his 10 Pickle and his Page-Boy. neck round to find out whence was the accustomed hand ; and Rosina called out, " Shall I bring you a chair to stand on ? " and Grant, " He thinks it's a fly." The boy's colour came up in his face ; but Mrs. Reid called to him in a more friendly tone that his mistress would see him, and that he must put on his coat and come up, adding in an undertone to Rosina — " He is a willing boy ; he can't help his size, and I won't have him daunted." " That's not so easy done,'' muttered Eosina. But for all his spirit, she might have seen that he was squeezing back a tear from his eyes. Pickle saw it, and jumped up to console him, then in a most important manner led the way before Mrs, Reid to the pleasant drawing-room, where there were hyacinths in the window and a bright fire on the hearth. Pickle went in first, and ran up to his mistress, wagging his tail, to introduce the new boy ; and behind, the cat must thrust herself in too. Pickle and his Page-Boy. 11 ^— "^- ■■■111 B ■!■■ _■_■ ■■■HIBIIBI 1 ■■(■■!■ _^P^^^^B^^B^^^B«^B>^^^*^M ■■■ M Kobert liked Miss Manners's smile as she said, "WeU, Kobert, I am glad to see you. I hoped to have saved you the walk, but the train came in sooner than I expected, and I fancied you had not come/' "Thank you, ma'am," he answered, with the air of a well-mannered boy. Then she inquired after his box, and he explained and gave his mother's message. "That is right," said Miss Manners. "Now, Robert, I hope we shaU get on well together. You will have to make yourself useful in the house and stable and garden, and to do just what Mrs. Reid and Mr. Grant tell you." " Yes, ma'am," he said, briskly, feeling glad that she had not added Rosina to the list, for somehow her laughter had not sounded to him good-natured, though he had a feeling that there was no harm in Grant's cjiaffing him. " You have been chiefly at school, have ypu not 1 " B 12 Pickle and his Page-Bot. "Yes, ma'am, till I passed my sixth standard. But Tve looked after the horse for grandfather, and worked in the garden after hours." " I am glad to hear it/' said Miss Manners. " If you are obedient and willing I have no doubt you will do well,* and that I may give your mother a good account of you. I see you and Pickle are good friends already. I wonder if you will manage washing and combing him." At the word '*wash" Pickle ran and hid himself under the sofa, and lady and boy both laughed. " Yes," she said, " you must teach Master Pickle to wag his tail at the name of his tub instead of crouching away. Be gentle with him in pulling out his knots and mats." *^ Please, ma'am, my Lady sent down her little Skye last year when tjie family was abroad," said Kobert, with great seri- ousness, " and I did him once a week, and Pickle and his Page-Bot. 13 all the time she was at home besides, and he would always jump upon me." He said "did" that he might not alarm Pickle, and he much wished to entice the little doggie out from utider the sofa, but he knew his manners too well. His mistress asked him if he had had any tea, and then, after promising him his clothes, if on trial he seemed likely to suit, sent him down. Pickle heard it all, and doubted. He chose to stay with her, lest tubs should be in preparation. B 2 CHAPTER II. " So they've got a boy to wait on me. That's attentive of them, and he is not amiss. Til see to the washing," said Pickle to himself. That Miss Manners should keep a boy was a novelty. Hitherto she had always had two maids, and a young girl fresh from school, besides Grant out of doors. Mar- garet Eeid had come with her from the great house when the old Squire her father died, and had been with her all her life. There were changes of the other maid ; the last had married, and Rosina had only been in the house a fortnight. She and Robert would have come together, but that the boy had been kept waiting for the school inspection. Pickle and his Page-Boy. 15 Some months previously Miss Manners had been staying in a large country house, with many other ladies. Mrs. Reid had been with her, and had told her that one of the ladies' maids also there was an old school-girl of hers, and would be very glad to see her. It was a great pleasure thus to meet this nice, good old scholar, Elizabeth Kingsley, now Mrs. Fairlie, for she had been married, and had lost her husband after a very few years, and had been obliged to go out to service again, leaving her little boy with her husband's parents. Old Mr. Fairlie had been coachman at Whitbury Park, and was still left in charge of the stables, which were almost empty nearly all the year round, except when the family came down for a few weeks in the hunting season. Mrs. Fairlie said the old people were very fond of the boy, and most careful of him, but that they were growing so infirm 16 Pickle and his Page-Boy. * — - I that she doubted whether they would long continue in their present charge, and she wished much to find some good and safe employment for her boy as soon as he was ready to leave school. Her fear was that his uncle would seize on him for a jockey, since he was small, spirited, and had learnt to ride well when exercising ponies of the young ladies and gentlemen sent down to the old coachman to train. Jockeys, she was told, were well looked after, for their masters knew that only really good, soundly-principled boys could withstand the temptations that were placed in their way ; but she still could not bear the notion of his being made to take interest m races and in betting. Perhaps she knew only too well the way in which men can get swallowed up, as it were, in such things. " If she could only get him settled in a good place I " she said. That night Miss Manners and Mrs. Reid Pickle and his Page-Bo y. 17 consulted together. Mrs. Reid was one of the useful people who could turn her hand to anything, and who overlooked all. It was agreed that as the cook was going to be married in the early spring, and the little girl trained under her had been promised to another place, they would give Robert Fairlie a trial, letting him do parlour work and help old Grant till he should grow big enough for a regular page's place, or else to go into Mr. Man- ners's garden or stables, always supposing he turned out a good boy, who would be obedient. Mrs. Fairlie was very grateful, and assured them that Robert would gladly do all they wished, so the new cook was hired without being told to expect a girl under her, and Robert was to come as soon as he had passed his last standard at school. Here then he was, and it must be con- fessed that he was a good deal smaller than they had expected. But there was 18 Pickle and his Page-Bot. something very bright in his eyes, and the briskness and readiness of his manner pleased mistress and maid very much. When he returned to the kitchen tea was ready, and Mrs. Reid, keeping her eye on him, could see that he had been brought up to nice tidy ways, and to civility of manners. ''Quite a little gentleman," she said, when she had sent him to carry the saucer of milk for Dandy out into the yard. " Aye," muttered Rosina, " and he'll be as much plague as a little gentleman. If rd known when I took the situation — " " Well, you are free to please yourself," returned Mrs. Reid, who was not too much delighted with Rosina, who was Mrs. Cray's sister-in-law's step-son's first cousin, and had not been able to bring ^ character, because while she was at home ill her last mistress had gone, no one knew where. Pickle and his Page- Boy. 19 Robert came back to ask if Pickle was not to have anything, for the dog had run round from the drawing-room, and was dancing about him. No, Skye terriers will not drink milk, and Pickle would have his dog - biscuit later. Meantime Rosina was thinking that a girl would have done her washing up for her, and was reaUy disappointed that the boy, who wanted both to have something to do and to show himself capable, said, " Shall I wash up ? I always did for granny." " You'll be messing about and breaking half of thefb ; I know what boys are," said Rosina. However, she was too glad to save herself trouble not to let him do it, though she was almost vexed to see how neatly and handily he managed it. Then came a voice at the door, and Baker Lee's boy brought in his box. He was then shown an odd little room at the m 20 Pickle and his Page-Boy. end of the kitchen passage where he was to sleep. It had been a store-room, but it had been fitted with a ventilator in the door, as there was no chimney ; and there was an iron bed, made up nice and white and comfortable, a chest of drawers with a clean white cloth on the top, nice white washing things, a chair and a table, and even two pictures on the walls : one was a coloured print of David and Goliath, and the other was that of the turkey-cock out of the ' Illustrated News/ " Well, this is jolly," cried Robert when he came in, though the box could not be got in at all, and had to stand* out in the passage to be unpacked. " You won't be so silly as some boys I have known, who didn't like a place to themselves." " IVe had one ever since I was a little chap," said Robert. Mrs. Reid stood by and saw his clothes unpacked, as she had promised his mother Pickle and his Page-Boy. 21 to have an eye to his linen, and she was pleased with the neatness of the arrange- ments that had been made for him.' He had three or four prize books besides his Bible and Prayer-Book, and she asked if he liked reading. " I like it tolerablish when it's a pretty book, all about killing people," said Robert. By the time this was done it was time to take in Miss Manners's tea, and Mrs. Reid came with the boy to show him where to find everything, and to see whether he could lay the table neatly. There was a good deal to tell him, but his grandparents, having been superior servants, had never left off nice ways, so that he understood quite enough to be likely to do well. He was in some ways rather old-fashioned, from living with old people, and the chief doubt seemed to be as to his size and strength. Even Mr. Somers, who came in that evening, said to Miss Manners, *'What, 22 PiCKLE AND HIS PaGE-BoY. have you got Hop o' my Thumb for a page ? " " IVe got him in hopes of growing him big enough to be available for somebody else," said she, laughing. " I think there's something in him." " Is there a voice ? " said Mr. Somers, who never saw a likely-looking boy come into the parish without thinking of his choir. " Shall we have him in and see ? " " Poor little chap, that might be hard on him after his journey," said the clergy- man. " I don't think he is of a sort that is easily daunted, but perhaps we had better let him alone to-night, or till he has spent his first Sunday here." Kobert meanwhile was writing a letter to tell his mother that he was safely arrived, and thought he should like his place very well, for there was a dog, and a pony, and a pig, and an old man ; and 1 Pickle and his Page-Bot. 23 Mrs. Keid sent her love, and would see to hi3 collars in the wash. He could, of course, write very well, but he grew very sleepy over his letter, and nodded at last so low that Mrs. Reid sent him to bed, without listening to any of his assurances that he was wide awake and not at all tired. And what was still worse, she came to see that his candle was out 1 Otherwise, Robert Fairlie did not think there yras much fault to be found with his place. CHAPTER III. Robert's room looked out into a big laurel bush, with only a narrow path between. When he awoke the leaves were shining with the low rays of the morning sun, and the thrushes were sing- ing. He was eager to begin his new^ life, so he jumped up, and was dressed by the time he heard old Grant moving about the yard ; and Pickle had been let out of the stable, and was running about the yard, all alive. But the maids were not astir yet, and the shutters were still shut, so all he could do was to open his own window and call to Master Grant, who answered, "Hollo there, you're up and kicking, are you 1 You won't be in Pickle and his Page-Boy. 25 such a hurry when youVe been here a bit longer, no ^ more than that there Rosina. She be a girl, that, who likes her bed, she be." And at that moment Mrs. Reid's voice might be heard above, calling out to Rosina to wake and get up at once. Robert called up to ask where the key was kept; ** Oh, so there you are ! The key is on the nail by the bellows. Youll find the shoes and boots in the knife-house." So Robert found his work cut out for him, and went out with a bound, to try whether Tie could catch the lower bough of the old horse-chestnut, and swing him- self along by it, calling out as he went, " Good morning, master." " How long shall we see you out at this time of day, I wonder ? " " I mean to be always up in good time," answered Robert, drawing himself up to look as tall as he could. 26 Pickle and his Page-Boy. " Aye, aye, of a March morning, when there's a nor'-easter fit to pinch your fingers off;" said Mr. Grant, shaking his head, as he took up his bucket of pigs' - wash and moved down to the sty. *' I wonder why they all think I can't or I won't do anything," said Robert to himself. " Pll soon show 'em what I can do. Won't we. Pickle ? I only hope they'll let me groom that pony there. Of course I'm fitter for it than a regular old Hodge like that," said the boy, looking at what he could see of himself with the proud remembrance that he came of a long line of grooms and coachmen. " If I don't show 'em how that pony's coat ought to look, my name ain't Bob Pairlie. Let's see, here are the boots and shoes. Oh, this stout pair must be the missus's, and no mistake ; and she's been plodding through the lanes, like no one but a plough-boy, or a lady out for a walk. My ! but the dirt here is white and sticky, and no mis- Pickle and hts Page-Boy. 27 take. Ho ! Mrs. Keid, she Ve got 'em easy for her corns, no doubt. Nothing to do to them but to give 'em a bit of a polish like granny's. She's a jolly old party, and I'll do 'em to please her. Hollo I this here with red seams, all so dainty, is Mrs. Cook's. What do they call her ? Rosamira, or something like it. She's an ill-tempered toad of a peacock, that can't let a fellow be. I should like to put a bit of blacking inside, instead of out, for my lady." Whatever Robert might have lihedy he ' had sense enough not to do it. He was a sharp boy, and well trained, and no fault was found either with the^shoes or the knives when he brought them in. There was plenty more to be done, and as it was all new to him, he was pleased to show how well he could do it. It was not hard to find out that, crusty as old Grant chose to show himself, he was not at all displeased with the ^ odd boy,' while Mrs. Reid.was as kind as possible, being, c 28 . Pickle and his Page-Boy. in fact, resolved, for his mothers sake, that Robert Fairlie should succeed ; and the only crook in his lot that he saw at present was Rosina, who could not see that he did anything right, though she found plenty for him to do. He was on his way to the pantry to Mrs. Reid, when he was stopped by a call from Rosina, who told him to wash the kitchen dinner-plates. He had indeed washed up the kitchen tea last night, but he knew he had other work in hand for the present, and he had no mind to be under her orders. So he answered some- what pertly, it must be confessed. *' Oh, you'll want me to make the beds next." *' None of your sauce, sir; do your busi- ness," said the cook. Whereupon Bob made his way to the pantry, where Mrs. Reid was putting away the silver forks, and asked, " Please, ma am, was I engaged as a kitchen maid ? " Pickle and his Page-Bot. 29 " What now ? " she asked. " I thought you were coining to see how to clean the plate." " Please, ma'am, so I was, but Rosamira here thought it was her plates that I was to clean," returned Bob. " And if I'm to be her scullery maid, ma'am, please to ask the missus to get me a lilac frock and pinafore." Mrs. Reid shook her head at him, but it was not an angry shake, rather one of amusement than of reproof ; and when Rosina, who did not even see it, demanded whether she was to put up with that boy's impertinence, Mrs. Reid replied that she had just before given him orders to come to her to the pantry, as there lay his proper business, and there she shut him in to go on wiping the silver forks. Bob gave a little hop, skip, and jump, and, it must *be confessed, made an ugly face, which his granny would not have liked, then hugged Pickle, who had fol- G 2 80 Pickle and his Page-Boy. lowed him in, and whispered in the long flapping ear, " Ain't she giving it to her well ? " And he was not far wrong, for Mrs. Reid was telling Rosina that he was not to be made to do what was the proper business of the cook, and Rosina was muttering at his being to help every one but herself, when she had always under- stood that Miss Maimers kept a girl under her cook. " You did not understand it when you took the situation," said Mrs. Reid. " And if that boy is to wait on no one but you, and be encouraged to be impudent, 111 not stand it, Mrs. Reid," cried Rosina. " I am not one to encourage impu- dence," said Mrs. Reid, with dignity ; "but if you bring it on yourself by- putting upon the boy when 'tisn't his place, why, I can't help it."' So Rosina could only mutter a little to herself about old Reid's pet. Pickle and his Page-Boy. 31 Bob wanted to have shown how well he could harness Scug and drive him round to the door, but Miss Manners did not want the carriage that day. However, there was a greater treat in store for him, for Miss Manners wanted some foreign stamps, and she asked him if he had been used to riding, know- ing well that he could answer "Yes, ma'am." And then she told him to ride into Ellerby to the post office, and bring her some with the afternoon letters. Scug and he had made friends already. He had patted the pretty bay nose, and whispered into the delicate fringed ear, and they quite understood one another. Bob made himself very spruce indeed, and Pickle, who quite made it known that he had taken Bob for his own hoy, jumped about and barked so loud that Grant could not make his directions heard, and had to content himself with 32 Pickle and his Page-Bot. exclamations down in his throat of " Hold your noise, you dog you." Off set boy, pony, and dog very merrily together, and equally merrily they came back again into Langley. To be sure Pickle did not fail to wade into the shallows of a very dirty pond, and there lie down, flapping the water with his tail, and lapping with his pink tongue, now on one side, now on the other, as if the stagnant water was quite too delicious ; and he came out with his back all over duck-weed, and his long hair clinging close to him. Bob rather exulted in the thought that now it would be seen whether he could wash Pickle ; and a wash it was likely to be, for Master Pickle took a roll in the dust by way of powdering and drying himself, and when returning repeated the whole process. The return was rather less pleasant, for three or four lads were lounging about the Pickle and his Page-Bo y. 33 • 1 — ' — — " common. They were out of work, and so tired of idleness that something to tease was exactly what they wanted, and they were perhaps a little jealous of seeing a stranger, and so small a one, upon Miss Manners's pony. So there was a shout at once of *' Halloa I " " Who comes there ? " " It's the monkey from atop of the organ," cried the wag of the lot, and another took a long stick to hit at the pony s legs, while a fourth raised a tremendous whoop ! The first moment. Bob turned round at them with the most horrid face he could make— twisted eyebrows, grinning mouth, and outapread nostrils. The next, he had enough to do to keep his seat, for Scug made a tremendous start as the switch touched his hind legs, arid dashed forward on the road ; but Bob sat firm, upright and easy, and even as the pony flew round the bend of the lane, turned his head back again to treat the 34 Pickle and . his Page-Bot. lads to another remarkable grimace, by which he flattered himself that he had fairly frightened them, and perhaps he had, for one of them was heard to mutter in a gruff* voice, " That's a rum 'un ! " Bob said nothing about his adventure. He would have scorned to complain of other boys, though he meant to have it out with them in his own way somehow or other. He gave the letters and stamps to Mrs. Keid, and proceeded to wash Scug's feet and rub him down, being determined to get it all thoroughly done before old Grant came to give him any directions. And though he had not . entirely finished curry-combing the smooth coat, he had shown that Grant might leave him the charge of the pony — that is, so far as Grant would venture to leave the sole charge of anything to a creature he trusted so little as a boy. As to Pickle, he was shut into the stable Pickle and his Page-Boy. 35 to do the best lie could towards cleaning himself by licking his paws. Mrs. Reid really askedr if Bob had let him get into such a mess that he might have to wash him ; but she would not let it be attempted that evening, as it was getting late, and tea, both parlour and kitchen, had to be attended to. Pickle, she said, knew very well that he must be kept out of the way when he had made himself so dirty, and the doggie certainly did look thoroughly ashamed of himself. Did the rogue not know that he had taken a shabby advan- tage of Robert's not knowing that he ought to be called and scolded out of that tempting pond ? Just as the things used for Miss Man- ners's last meal were put away, there was a knock and an opening of the door ; and who should step in but Mr. Nowell, the gardener at the Hall, with a bundle of early rhubarb, all bright yellow stalk and scarlet top, for Miss Manners ; and behind 36 Pickle and his Page-Boy. him a fair - faced, pleasant - looking boy, whom Pickle came to greet with civil wags, erecting his ears, whom Mrs. Reid welcomed as Arthur Nowell. " There, he'll be a nice companion for you, Robert," she said, as the two shook hands, and then moved to the dark passage to the pantry, where they could talk more at their ease, and at the same time push each other about a little, and try the strength of each other's hands and arms. Arthur was the biggest, though he was the younger by eighteen months, but his fingers were not nearly so tough as Bob's. He was in the fifth standard, and seemed by his own account never to have done anything but go to school, except to sing in the choir. " Shall you be in the choir ? " he asked. '' Don't know." *' Were you in the choir before ? " asked Arthur. Pickle and his Page-Boy. 37 " My eyes ! No." "Why not r' " They were a precious low lot." Arthur's eyes almost might be seen to gleam with amazement in the darkness. " What do you mean ? " he asked. "Always after what they could get," said Robert, " and not over particular how they got it. And such dirty little pigs under the white gowns ! " " You won't find that here. We ain't low," said Arthur. "No, I should think not," said Bob, in a voice Arthur did not understand. "Mr. Somers, that's the vicar," went on Arthur, "is very particular. He won't let you sing if you've ever so good a voice if you aren't a right down good boy." "Oh my!" And Arthur found himself suddenly tipped up and sprawling on the ground. Eobert felt as if he could not endure that sober, self-satisfied voice a moment 38 Pickle and his Page-Bot^ longer without doing something to upset the speaker. • They rolled over, Pickle nuzzling them, delighted, and dog and boys kicked and tumbled about, till Pickle barked with glee, and they laughed so that Mr. No well called out, " Hold your row, my sons," and Rosin a said something about troublesome boys. That tumble made them better ac- quainted, and Bob asked who were the chaps who had hallooed at him. Arthur thought they must be Black John and Albert Cray and Ben Grant. " What, this old fellow's son ? " *' Grandson, and one that ain't no good to nobody," said Arthur. " He never could get through the third standard, and now he's ashamed to come to the night school, so he don't know nothing at all but to loaf about and halloo." " What, have you got a night school ? " said Robert, rather dismayed. . "To be sure there is. Miss Manners Pickle and his Page-Bot. 39 teaches the big lads ; and I shall go to it unless Tm bound apprentice somewhere else." '^ What are you going to be ? " "Fd rather be a singing man at a cathedral, or else I should like best to be in a grocers shop. It looks so jolly to shovel out the sugar and currants as if they were sand and stones. Shouldn't you like it just about ? " *'Not I. Fd rather be a whipper-in, or a huntsman. That would be something like." "Oh, but one would get killed that way," said Arthur. " Our Mr. Edmund, he got his arm broken clearing a gate, and poor Jem Byles, the whipper-in, rode bang up against a wire fence, and died in the hospital a week after." "Well," said Bob, "there's no fun in nothing that won't kill you somehow. I wouldn't mind being an engine-driver now on an express, but I'd rather have to do with 40 Pickle and hts Page-Boy. » horses, for an engine ain't sensible like." " I don't want to go into the stables," said Arthur. "Amos got such a bite on the shoulder from Mr. Grove's vicious brute of a horse that he could not use his arm for a month." " Then he must be a right down stupid chap, who didn't ought to touch a horse," returned Kobert. " Grandf er says 'tis a body's own fault if a horse hurts him, 'cause he finds out if he's afraid." " What's your grandfather ? " Eobert explained how he used to be Lord Whitbury's coachman. . " And now we live up at the park, and look after the stables." " Have you seen our park ? " And then the boys began. If one park was large, the other was twice as large. If the squire had orchard houses, my lord had orchids. (Unfortunately, Bob called them hawkheads,) If Mr. Manners had five Pickle and his Page-Boy. 41 horses and a pony, my lord had fourteen horses and five ponies. If Mr. Manners had one keeper and one woodman, the earl had a dozen of each. And then Bob began to talk of the number of pheasants that haid been shot last season, till foolish Arthur nearly cried, and broke out — " I don't care, our squire's a better man than your lord, and lets us have a cricket ground in the park. And Master Edmund sings in the choir when he's at home from school, and that's better than shooting pheasants." At which Bob burst out laughing ; but luckily Mr. Nowell here called his son to go home, saying, as he wished good night — "I hope you two will go along together, . my young chap ; you're kindly welcome up at my place for a game with Arthur and Jem, when Mrs. Reid can spare you." " Thank you, sir," civilly said Robert. " That's a nice sort of boy for you to go 42 Pickle and his Page-Bot. /_ along with, Arty," said his father, as they walked home. And — "Arthur Nowell is a well-brought- up boy ; I shall be glad to see you friends with him," said Mrs Reid. But neither knew the views of the boys. Arthur considered Robert a conceited and wild sort of daring chap, whom he didn't fancy, and who must be bad if he despised choir boys and approved of danger. While Robert gave a little whistle, and told Pickle that he'd no opinion of chaps that cared for nought but singing, and were afraid of everything. CHAPTER IV. Pickle knew well what was to come the next morning, but he had a mind to give the new boy a lesson. The water was heated for him ; his bath, for he had a tub of his own, was placed under the shed ; his little blanket, with a new piece of flannel and a big piece of soap, also a large-toothed comb, beside it. But where was Pickle ? Not in the stable, where Robert was sure he had shut him in before taking out the breakfast things. Not in the drawing-room, for he looked under all the sofas. Not gone with his mistress to school, for he never was allowed there ; indeed, Robert ran along n 44 Pickle and his Page-Bot. the road to look into the porch. Not in his basket in the front kitchen ; not watching Rosina mincing meat in the kitchen ; not visiting any of his hiding- places for bones in the shrubbery. Robert shouted " Pick-el, Pick-Pick-Pick-el," and whistled in vain. Old Grant chuckled to hear the calls, as he cut the cauliflowers in the garden ; Rosina laughed over her mincing machine, and Mrs. White's grey parrot began to hold his head on one side and study the word. At last, as Bob stopd looking up and down the road, Ben Grant strolled up with his hands in his pockets. " Beest hollaing for the dog ? " said he. " I seen him going out with the little uns." " What little ones ? " asked Robert. "Them up at the Hall," said Ben. *' Thee needn't look for he till they comes back again. I say, you did stick on like a good 'un yesterday." Pickle and his Page-Bo y. 45 "Why couldn't you let a fellow alone ? " asked Bob in return. Ben showed all his case of white teeth in a broad grin by way of answer ; but at that moment a scolding growl from a human throat was heard, and Old Grant at the back door exclaimed — " Now, my young beauty, I'll not have you loafing up here, making this here boy as idle as yourself. Off with you this minute. And as to you, master, that was so keen after your work, you're all alike, is boys. One boy's a boy, two boys is no boy at aU, and three boys is wust than nowt." "He was only telling me where the dog was," said Robert, indignantly. "Oh yes, anything will do for an excuse for boys to get together," said Grant, pro- nouncing the word hoys as if they were the most despicable beings in the world, created for his special torment. However, at that moment Miss Manners D 2 46 Pickle and his Page-Boy. might be seen returning from the school, and as Grant had really no desire to get the boy into trouble with her, and besides ' had little to accuse him of, he went off into the yard. Robert followed, hot, angry, and rather crestfallen, and Ben shuffled off his own way. It was odd, but Bob felt a great deal inore inclined to him than to that staid little youth Arthur Nowell. Presently Bob saw what was meant by "the little ones," namely, the nursery children from the Great House, with their donkey and their nurses, and trotting after them with the most innocent air in the world. Master Pickle himself, looking as if he had only taken a walk as an especial favour to his mistress's nephews and nieces. For their part, all the three who could speak began with all their might to tell Mrs. Reid how dear little fickle had joined them, and how ready he had been to run after stones. Pickle and his Page-Bot. 47 ".Ah ! the rogue/' said Mrs. Reid, look- ing at him, and at once he put his tail between his legs and drooped his ears, and looked as silly and sheepish as possible. "Ah"! the rogue, he had his reasons. Don't you see. Master Freddy, he didn't want to be washed." The children were duly shocked, and shook their heads at poor Pickle, till he was quite overpowered by the weight of their displeasure, and crept off to his basket so abjectly that all his long hair swept the ground. The children wanted to stay and see "the new boy" perform on him, but Mrs. Reid and their nurse, Mrs. Grey, thought this would greatly add to the difficulties, and besides, it was too late to undertake the business before dinner. Pickle made no further attempt to elude his fate beyond hiding under the kitchen table; for his morning walk had made him so much dirtier than before, that he 48 Pickle and his Page-Bot. knew he must submit before he could be let into the drawing-room again, or feel himself comfortable. Indeed he had some burrs sticking in his coat, which pricked his lips when he tried to get them* out, and only went deeper in when he rolled on them. So the tub was filled and the soap, rough flannel, and little blanket brought, and only for the sake of con- sistency and force of habit did Master Pickle turn upside down, and look as wretched and imploring as if he were going to be hanged, when Robert took him up in his arms. But then Robert whispered pretty things in his ear all the time, and held him firmly, yet as if he was not in the least afraid. Nor did he souse him rudely into the tub, as Rosina had done, but put him in gradually with " Now, old boy, isn't that nice ? " his hind feet foremost. And though he scrubbed well with the flannel and that vile soap, even under the flaps of the long ears, yet he Pickle and his Page-Bot. 49 did take care that none of the soap went into the corners of the dark-brown eyes. Then came the tug of war — tug indeed at the fine silky hair that picked up dust, burrs, and.cliders, and matted its own self so easily ! When his hair was pulled Pickle was wont to growl and show his teeth, and if that would not do, pretend to snap. Old Grant used to give his scolding growl, hold him with an angry grip, and pull out whole locks of his hair, so as to give him good reason for whining. The maids had generally begun to cry and say they could not do it, and Kosina had called him a nasty brute, and cufied him, and said she would never do it again, it was not her place. But Bob said, good-humouredly, "Come, old fellow, none of your nonsense I You wouldn't bite me, would you?" — not a bit as if he was afraid. Whenever the comb went smoothly, he said, " There ! there I " quite pleased ; and if it caught in 50 Pickle and his Page-Boy. a mat, he held the hair and tried to hurt as little as he could, explaining it to him all the while, so that Pickle felt quite flattered at being treated like a reasonable creature. As he had been rather neglected of late, some tangles were so bad that Bob begged for Mrs. Reid's scissors to cut them off. Rather alarmed lest this should be only to save himself trouble, she came to watch the operation ; but Bob cut not a bit more than he could help. And when it was all over, and Pickle was combed, brushed, and dried, he looked and felt so handsome and respectable that everybody told him he was a perfect little gentleman, as he went about holding up his head, with his mou- staches sticking out on each side his black nose, and his ears hanging long and silky, and his waistcoat delicious to feel, and all the fringes to his legs in good order, and his tail like a feather, wagging as if there never was so proud a dog. From that time he made up his mind Pickle and his Page-Boy. 51 that Robert would suit him, and considered him as his own page, hired on purpose to attend to him and play with him, though of course he might be allowed to do a few things for Scug, Miss Manners, and the rest. No one could doubt that such was Mr. Pickle's opinion. He showed it in every wriggle of his body and every wave of his tail whenever Bob came near him. For the sake of consistency or from force of habit, he never let himself be washed without hiding in comers and making a fuss, but he did not really mind it much more than Scug did his grooming down. It was Saturday, and in the evening Miss Manners told Robert that she wished him to join Mrs. Somers's afternoon class. He did not like it at all, for he thought he had done with schooling, and besides, the Sunday boys at his own home had been a rough, ill-behaved set, so that his 52 Pickle and his Page-Bot. grandparents had preferred keeping him with themselves ; :and this had ended in his despising the kind of thing. He felt too quite sure that Arthur Nowell would be there, looking as stuck up as possible, and answering all the questions till he felt ready to kick him. Answering questions was what Robert hated, especially on Sunday matters, so he looked up to see if it would do to say that he should not have finished putting away the dinner things ; but Miss Manners did not look or speak as if she meant to have any objec- tions made, and he said to himself that he would see how he liked it. He condoled with Pickle a great deal out on the drying-ground that they could not have a walk together, and was half in hopes that the dog would run after him, and have to be brought back. But Pickle knew his Sunday manners much too well, and knew besides that Mrs. Eeid had her eye upon him, so he Pickle and his Page-Bot. 53 — I I ■ ■ »■■■ ■ ^■^^M^.^I^M^M^^^— ^l^^i^^^»^^»^i^— ^i^^^^»^«^l^«^«^— ^^^^^^^^M^B^^M^M^ only laid his head on his fore-paws and looked melancholy and discreet. After all, Robert found the class much pleasanter than he expected. Arthur Nowell was not there at all, none of the week-day school boys were. All were big lads out at work; three of them had a moustache, and one something like a beard. To be sure Ben Grant did observe to another big boy, ** Look, Herbert, here comes Hop o' my thumb." And another great fellow told him he had made a mis- take — yonder was the way to the infant school; but it was all in good humour, and Robert Fairlie had ten times rather be bullied by his elders than turned down to the little ones. Nor was he taken into school. The place was the vicarage study, with all the vicar's books in shelves round, and a beautiful print over the chimney, and a nice table-cover, a pleasant brisk fire burning, and chairs to sit on. He did not dislike the lesson either. Mrs. 54 Pickle and his Page-Boy. Somers knew that the lads did not like to be catechized, but she read with them, and to them, and talked the subject over, so that it was impossible not to be inter- ested, and Bob thought he should have no objection to go again. He made friends with two or three of the lads as they came out, and found the nicest of them were in the choir, though he had not recognized them, they looked so different in their surplices, and were besides so far off from where he sat. They were evidently good and merry fellows, and there was an air about them of being well to do, and belonging to respectable families ; and as he heard them talk, Bob began to think that he should be out of everything if he was not in the choir. ' It was not the best reason for caring to belong to it, but it was rather different from looking down on it, as unfortunately the bad behaviour of the boys at Whit- bury had led every one to do. Pickle and his Page- Boy. 55 He did indeed, when Herbert Brayne, the blacksmith's son, asked if he had been in the choir before, make the same answer as he had done to Arthur No well — that they were a low lot. " Hullo I what a swell we be ! '' cried out Herbert, and there was a great laugh. "I mean — I mean,'' said Robert, get- ting red, "they ain't chaps like you. They are little dirty chaps as ever you see ; common folks' children, such as my grandfather wouldn't have me go with." "I say. Jack," called out Herbert, "have you got a glass case here for my lord ? " Bob was all but flying at Herbert, but John Barker, the biggest of them all, got hold of him, saying, "Come, come, no larking of a Sunday ! " " What would grandfather say ? " added Herbert. 56 Pickle and his Page-Bot. However, John made them keep the peace, and though, to ajx outsider, their peace would have seemed like squabbling, they had really got to like one another very much by the time Bob got to his own gate, where Pickle danced about to meet him, and seemed ready to crawl up him like a cat. John Barker, Herbert Brayne, Ben Grant, and the rest of them knew Pickle quite well, and began to snap their fingers and talk to him. He was civil to them all, but he came back to Bob, well know- ing that his own page belonged to him, whereupon Herbert observed that Miss Dora had got a boy just big enough to wait on Pickle Manners. And Pickle's page-boy, or for a variety " Mixed Pickles," came to be Bob's name among the Langley lads, except when he gave himself airs, and then he was called " my lord " ; for everybody who was " one of them " had a nickname of his Pickle and his Page-Bo y. 57 own, though very few knew it beyond themselves. One of them ! Yes, Bob wished to be one of them, and so was not at all unwill- ing when his mistress called him that she might report of his voice. He tried his best, and Pickle thought it well to come to his assistance, and sat down under the piano, and as each note was struck, stuck his nose up in the air and accompanied it with a long and doleful howl. He was very much surprised and displeased that the lady and the boy should both burst out laughing at him, and proceed to turn him out and take him off to the kitchen. Had he not just as good a right to sing as his page-boy, and wasn't he doing it quite as well ? Maybe Miss Manners thought so, for Robert had not much of a voice. He knew a little about singing, like all National school boys, but nothing would make his voice other than a very thin, 58 Pickle and his Page-Boy. ugly squeal in the high notes, and she was obliged to say that she was afraid it would not do. " You must try to praise God in other ways than by being in the choir," she said, as the boy looked disappointed. "You know you can go along with the hymns in your heart, all the same. And doing one's duty with a good will is praising Him too." Bob couldn^t say so, but he felt some shame that his disappointment was not for quite such high reasons as his mistress thought. He could have bitten his tongue now for what he had said of the lowness of the choir- boys at Whitbury, for he knew Herbert Brayne would tease him about it, and that Arthur Nowell would perk up his head. Herbert did call him " my lord " and have a little chaff about it when Scug was to be taken down to the forge to be shod on Monday, and Bob had to confess Pickle and his Page-Bot. 59 that his mistress did not think his voice good enough. " Let's hear," said Herbert, beginning on the scale with the best alto in the choir; but at that moment there was a hiss and a scuffle. Pickle, who was polite to no cat but his own, was rushing at Mrs. Brayne's kitten, who, with a pro- digious sputter in his face, flew right up the ash tree by the forge. The kitten was young, and not so well able to turn round to come down as to run up, and she looked in great danger, mewing away high up on a thin branch. Mrs. Brayne and her daughter Mary came out in dis- tress, and Bob in a minute had his coat , off", and said he would fetch her down. " You can't climb that tree, my son," said the blacksmith. " Yes, I can, sir," said Bob. " I could climb any of the trees like that at home.'' For, living in the park, and being more lightly shod than the village boys, and 60 Pickle and his Page-Bot. going about a good deal by himself or often one of the keepers, he had practised climbing of trees, and he was pleased to show that he could do something that Herbert could not. Pickle stood shaking all over, and dancing about with excitement, evidently thinking that his page-boy had gone up on purpose to deliver the poor kitten into his jaws, and he was very much disgusted when Bob handed safely over to Mary Brayne her golden tabby, as she was pleased to term the little yellow - striped animal which her father and brother insisted on calling Sandy. Any way, it quite settled it in their minds that " my lord " or " Pickle's page- boy," whichever he was to be called, was a nice fellow, whom Herbert was welcome to know. CHAPTER V. So Robert Fairlie was settling down at Langley Cottage as Pickle's page-boy. He had two or three scrapes. Once he woiUd try his hand on the drawing-room lamp, and screwed it up so high that he cracked the glass. Another time he and Pickle were so wild, when careering round the back yard, that they tumbled over a big red earthenware crock and broke it all to shivers. But as he brought a bit straight in to Mrs. Reid, who sent him in to his mistress, with the history begin- ning, " I'm sorry to say, ma'am, I've had a misfortune," that was soon made up. To be sure Mrs. Reid looked a little grave when there was a loud hiss and squeal, E 2 62 Pickle and his Page-Bot. and then a prodigious clatter and crash in the passage, bringing Miss Manners out of the drawing-room, and her and Rosina out of the kitchen, to find that Robert, tea-tray and all, had tumbled over Dande- lion, and broken three cups, two saucers, and a cream-jug. One evening, too, he left all the doors open, and Pickle so mumbled Mrs. Reid's easiest shoe, that she could not put it on again. She began to think that Mr. Grant was right, and even one boy was worse than nothing; but then he was so bright and obliging, and the little dash of saucy drollery made him so pleasant, she could not help Jiking him. And she knew he never touched odds and ends he took out of the dining-room. One day she overheard a scuffle. Rosina was trying to snatch one of two patties that had come out. " Go shares," she said, " can't you ? " Pickle and his Page-Boy. 63 " rd scorn it," said Bob, grandly. "What, be you afraid I'll teU? Old Mother Reid may think the dog or cat took 'em." " For shame 1 As if Td be a greedy pig, and lay it upon poor .Pickle, or Dandy." " Dandy served you a pretty trick the other day." " No reason I should tell lies on her," returned Bob. " My 1 Fine manners," returned Rosina ; but she gave it up, and Robert safely brought his patties into the housekeeper's charge. It settled Mrs. Reid's mind that if he was a bit of a monkey, he was an honest monkey. So he had his buttoned suit at the end of the month, for Pickle, Scug, and Dandelion approved of him very much indeed ; old Grant allowed that " he was not a bad sort, as boys goos ; " .Mrs. Reid liked him enough to fuss over him as if she was his grandmother; Miss 64 Pickle and his Page-Bot. Manners thought him promising, and, in short, he got on well with every living creature in the house except Rosina, with whom he was always at war. It was not only that she found fault with him. Old Grant was always doing that, and even Mrs. Reid could give him a pretty sharp scolding, if he did not rinse out the glasses clean, or forgot to change his boots, or talked over the kitchen garden hedge to Ben Grant. He did not mind that a bit, but it did provoke him to have Rosina pointing, as if she was quite delighted, if he left a tray in the passage, or made any little blunder. Pickle and she had never liked one another either. The rule of the house was that the dog was not to be fed with meat, and only have a large bone now and then to gnaw. A saucepan was kept for him, where crusts and scraps from plates were thrown to soak, and in the evening warmed — '"I'th more or less dog-biscuit, so as to Pickle and his Page-Boy. 65 make his meal of the day. Rosina, how- ever, had a great knack of forgetting it, and if reminded by Bob (sometimes not over civilly), she would grumble some abuse of " the nasty brute," and, if Mrs. Reid were out of the way, cut off a great lump of cold meat for his meal. " But he ain't to have that. It makes him smell." "Oh, stuflF and nonsense. That's all ladies' maggots. That or none. What are you after now? I won't have my bread -pan meddled with; no, nor my fire neither, for your fancies. Messing about at this time of night I " " Won't you though ? Pickle, my beauty, yes, he shaU have a good supper, if Mrs. Rosamira is ever so cross to him." And with Pickle trembling, sitting up begging and waving his paws most touch- ingly, Robert worked through his soaking and chopping, while Rosina sat at the table altering the set of the unripe 66 Pickle and his P age-Boy. cherries in her Sunday bonnet, and grum- bling and scolding all the time. One of the cherries rolled on the floor at Robert's feet, and he, who had a great curiosity to know what it was made of, picked it up. It crushed together in his fingers, and as he looked amazed at the wax that stuck to them, and was going to say he was sorry, Rosina flew at him, declaring he had done it on purpose, and she should complain to Mrs. Reid, who at that moment came in from an evening visit at the Hall. *' Well, what a pity it is I can't ever leave you two together without you quarrelling," said good Mrs. Reid, coming panting in. " What's all this about ? What are you messing over the fire for, Bob ? it ain't your place." "That's just what I told him," said Rosina ; " and now he's been and splashed my ribbon, and spoilt my beautiful cherry I " Pickle and his Page- Boy. 67 " I must have my dog's supper," said Robert, " and she'd never put it on." "I must say then you brought it on yourself, Rosina," said Mrs. Reid. "You know 'tis Miss Manners's orders." Rosina muttered that she wasn't en- gaged to dress dog's meat. "Then you shouldn't object to them that does," returned Bob in triumph, and he and the cook did not like each other the better, though the cherry was pinched and pulled out, and only looked a little less shiny. But there was another uproar on Sunday, for Pickle was discovered to be in ecstasy over something black and yellow, tossing it up in the air, and dancing with it, so that Robert burst into a fit of laughing. " It's my new glove ! " screamed Rosina, rushing at it. " You've given it to him, you s|)iteful, mischievious boy." Pickle gave a good-humoured kind of 6S Pickle axd his Pagk-Bot. growl, and showed his teeth by curling up his lips, still holding it fast. Then, as Rosina retreated in a fright, he shook it like a dead rat, and Bob laughed louder and more provokingly. "Dont, Robert," said Mrs. Reid, sharply. " Get it from him.*' "Come, come. Pickle, drop it," said Robert. " 'Tis a right down splendiferous glove for a lady to go to church in, black sewn with orange, and you mustn't have it, 'cause Miss Rosamira wants to be a star at church, for big Jem Long and Alfred Crane to come a-courting to. Drop it, I say, Pick, there's a good dog." But the poor black glove, with brilliant orange stitching, was a sad spectacle by this time, and Rosina declared Robert had thrown it to the dog on purpose to get it spoilt, and that he ought to pay for a new pair. He denied this flatly, and quite truly ; and Mrs. Reid had seen the gloves left on Pickle and his Page-Bot. 69 the corner of the dresser while Rosina ran out into the yard to speak to some one, just where a very slight touch, or even a draught, would throw them down. Rosina sulked again, even when Miss Manners gave her another and much better pair of gloves, but without the orange stitching, which she greatly regretted. Also, Robert was disappointed that he might not have Pickle to sleep in his room ; but the dog had at one time barked and howled so at night that he had been banished, and all Robert's assurances that with him Pickle would be as still as a mouse were not heeded. Mrs. Reid did not approve of dogs in bed-rooms, and Scug would miss him. There was another standing dispute, about fat, gristle, and skin. Robert, like many another boy, hated eating fat ; but his grandmother had made such a point of his getting over his dislike, and had talked 70 Pickle and his Page-Bot. — -■ * g-i I so much about sinful waste, that he had generally swallowed it down, though never without feeling that he was a very good boy for doing so, and, indeed, old Mrs. Fairlie generally praised him. He saw, however, that Eosina always left her fat, and he followed her example, thinking it was allowed ; but this brought on him Mrs. Reid, who thought it her duty to protest, and try to make them both show a greater regard for their mis- tress's property. Eosina did not heed at all. She tossed her head at the notion of her coming under the same rules as a bit of a boy, and left whatever did not please her palate more than ever, till, as Mrs. Eeid muttered, " a poor body might have dined off her plate." Bob had a friend quite willing to relieve him of anything disagreeable, and who loved skin, fat, and gristle so much that he would sit bolt upright waving his paws, and now and then whining to at- Pickle and his Page-Bo y. 71 tract notice, all dinner-time ; but this was contrary to rule, and the doggie knew better than to attempt such doings at his mistress's own dining-room table unless there were some visitor present, who might bestow a morsel before he was rebuked and ordered off. Eobert would gladly have got rid of a good deal to Pickle, but Mrs. Reid declared that if he did so, the dog a*nd cat should be shut up in the stable all dinner-time. She would not have them spoilt and made troublesome and disagreeable ; and as to the scraps, what were really not fit to eat were to go into Pickle^s saucepan and make his mess good at night. And the quantity of quarrelling over this between the cook and the boy no one would believe. If Bob loyally saved his scraps, it angered him that Rosina should declare he was giving them to the dog, and it provoked him doubly if he found Rosina's fat put away in a pudding basin. He always enjoyed 72 Pickle and his Page-Boy. turning such hoards out into the saucepan to simmer there, and though she would sometimes fly at him as if she would box his ears, or threaten him with the rolling- pin if they were alone, she never com- plained to Mrs. Eeid. This might have made Robert suspicious if he had been older and known more of evil ways ; but his only notion was that Rosina wanted to baulk Pickle of his meals, and that it was fun to outwit her and put her in a rage. When he asked her what she was doing in the lane with that big basket, and she went into a passion with his impu- dence that she could hardly get her words out, he stood laughing and triumphing in teasing her so. It never struck him that when she said she was looking out for the old woman who took rabbit-skins and got umbrellas mended, that she carried down anything besides rabbit- skins, or that the fine, deeply-fringed Pickle and his Page-Bot. 73 parasol and the orange-stitched gloves and waxen cherries did not all come out of Rosina Crabbe's wages. Neither did it strike Mrs. Reid. She did not like Rosina Crabbe, and thought her a vulgar-minded, dressy, giddy young woman, not quite truthful, and with no quiet tastes, nor much of religious habits, and too fond of making excuses to visit Mrs. Cray at the * Manners' Arms ' ; and the disputes with Robert were a great worry. But it seemed hard and cruel to get the girl out of her place, before she had had a chance of earning herself a character or learning anything better. Miss Man- ners, finding she had never been con- firmed, had begun to have her in twice a week to try to read with her in prepar- ation. Rosina did not like it at all, and muttered about "pious ladies and their fads;" but she always behaved herself before Miss Manners, who hoped really to be doing her good. 74 Pickle and his Page-Bot. And certainly the girl now had one of those opportunities that do come to every one in their lives, if only they are per- ceived, used, and not thrown away. Kobert had an opportunity too. His grandparents had brought him up in good habits, and they were good religious people themselves, but they had not been much taught; and the Whitbury boys at the mixed school were so rude and ill- trained that they had thought it better to send him to a somewhat superior boys school in the next parish, and keep him to themselves on Sunday. And as his mother had told Miss Manners, and had written to him, she was very glad of Langley teaching for him. He soon liked it too — at first be- cause it brought him among the bigger, manlier boys, but gradually for its own sake. He was not ashamed to like what big John Barker and Frank Freeman liked, and he enjoyed doing the same as Herbert k Pickle and his Page-Boy. 75 Brayne, while even dull Ben Grant and saucy Albert Cray were to be met in Mrs. Somers's class, behaving themselves too as became a lady's own house. They might ba in the choir, but they were in the eleven too, and full of fun,- and when Bob's work was done on a summer evening he was allowed to go out where he pleased with any of them, having once given his word not to go into the * Manners' Arms.' He began, as before said, by only caring to haunt where he could be with other lads ; but he gradually grew interested, saw more of the meanings of the chapters in the Bible, felt that he was entering into what would please his mother, said his prayers more carefully, and cared more about being a good boy, not only because he was Kobert Fairlie, who never got into disgrace, but for the sake of pleasing God, who had done so much for him. CHAPTER VI. Poor Mrs. Reid ! She was in great trouble. Even Pickle saw it, and nestled up to her knee, putting his little paws on her lap as if to ask what ailed her, • and to try to comfort her. Her only sister, of whom she was very fond, had a seizure, and she must go oflF directly to see what could be done for her. Miss Manners was finding out about the trains and planning the journey, and Robert was running about to borrow the latest Bradshaw that would go be- yond their own particular line. " And oh dear ! " exclaimed poor Mrs. Reid in the midst of her trouble, *^ what Pickle and his Page-Bot. 77 will become of you, ma'am, and of the house, with only that boy and that girl ? " " Oh, never mind, Margaret ; I shall get Mrs. Nowell in or Jessie HoUis. I dare say we shall do very \ suppose she came home ? " suggested Robert. " How would you like it, suppose the moon came down?" saidanother mockingly. 138 Pickle and his Page-Bo y. "There's nothing for it but to teach him to mind his own business," said Rosina. "Aye, we'll have no long-tongued spies here," said the man. " I ain't a spy ! " cried Robert. " Then prove it, and take your glass off like a man ! '' "Never! Tis Missus's." " We'll see that ! Now ! '' They had almost laid hold of him, but Bob dodged under their hands, rushed through the kitchen, and dashed out at the back-door, and into the kitchen-garden, whence he meant to run across the corner of the park to Nowell's lodge, to call him to put an end to anything so shocking. But Rosina had divined his intention. " Stop him, stop him ! " she cried. " He'll call the police." If there had been a gate instead of a tall door into the park Robert would have escaped. But the wall and the Pickle and his Page-Bot. 139 door were too high to be leapt over, and the fastening was one that took time to undo, especially in the dim light. Heavy- feet were after the poor boy. He was in a great, powerful grasp. * " You would, would you ? " a wicked- sounding voice swore at him in words of horrid abuse, while he was shaken and struck about the ears. " Don't hurt him," he heard Julia say. " Here, shut him in here ! He can't get out, and Til tackle him to-morrow." And Bob found himself tumbled into the tool-house among all Grant's pots and pans and garden tools, and the door shut on him and buttoned, if not locked. Three or four pots came clattering down about him, and he was at first half stunned by the blows he had received, and lay still, while some laughter, some brutal, some shrill, died away in the distance. Then he heard a breathing and panting close to him and found Pickle's tongue on his face, K 140 Pickle and his Page-T5ot. the little claws moving over him, * the hairy body wriggling. It was a very great comfort, and brought him to himself more than anything else. It was rather terrible to think of spend- ing the night there. No one but his ene- mies would be likely to hear any noise he might make ; and what was worse, there in the total darkness, 'it was most danger- ous to move, for there were piles on piles of red garden pots that wanted very little to bring them down, and he could not make out which way the door lay. However, it was not half so bad with Pickle for company, and the night would be as short as an English night could be. He hoped that by three o'clock there would at least be light enough to shine through the crack of the door. The big clock struck ten. Five hours to come ! Oh dear ! But he could say his prayers with a clearer conscience than if he had not turned back on the down. Nay, if he Pickle and his Page-Boy, 141 had gone on, would he have been in a state to say them at all ? Just then he heard a faint sound like wheels, but no more. If he had but known it, it was a fly from EUerby station stopping at the door, and out of it came Mr. and Miss Manners, who stood aghast, as well they might, at the lighted windows and the loud sounds of the piano — on which some one was playing oddly and un- certainly a waltz — and as they advanced, two or three pairs of dancing figures came tumbling awkwardly about — with move- ments that showed they were far from sober. " What does this mean ? " demanded Mr. Manners in a voice of thunder, that soon stopped the dance. The dancers turned round in awe. One of the men who was sitting at the table with a glass before him was so far gone as to begin, " Well, governor, won't ye sit down and — " But he was cut short by the others. K 2 142 Pickle and his Page-Boy. " Hush, George, it's Squire Manners." And another went on confusedly explain- ing and apologizing, and some of the women began to cry and sob while they were already sneaking out of the house, and Mr. Manners cut short all the dis- courses by saying, /' Not a word more ! Out of the house this instant. All of you ! " " Oh ! Edmund," whispered his sister, recovering a little from her first horror. " Don't send ofi" the maids. What is to become of them ? Rosina ! " But if Rosina even heard the voice, she only fled the faster. They were all gone, and the flyman, who had been lifting down the luggage and waiting to be paid, stood shaking his head. "Aram job I'm afraid,sir," said he. "Can I send any one, or do anything for you ? " Mr. Manners thanked him, and asked him, if the Nowells were not gone to bed, to knock at their door, and send them to help to get things into order ; for as poor Pickle and his Page-Bot. 143 Miss Manners said, the place felt quite polluted. The flyman asked whether he should also send the police, and Mr. Man- ners said yes, if he met the policeman near, but it was hardly worth while to go after him on purpose. " And, oh ! " said Miss Manners, " where is Robert ? Oh ! I do hope he is not gone off with them ! I promised poor Elizabeth to take care of him, and I should not have left him with those two wretched women, when I knew so little of them 1 " And she did not get any comfort when Mr. and Mrs. Nowell came in, for they had not seen Bob all day, and only knew that it was all over the parish, that all Miss Manners' servants were gone off to the races together ! The telegram she had sent that morn- ing to say that she and her brother were coming that night, was found sticking under the door, where the boy had left it, not being able to make anybody hear. 144 Pickle and his Page-Boy. Mr. Manners meant to have slept at the cottage, and the order had been sent to make a room ready for him. Now he proposed to take his sister back to the Hall with him, but Nowell reported that the stench from drains was ^' fit to knock a man down " — ^by the front door, and so Miss Manners and Mrs. Nowell did their best to provide supper and bed. Luckily the water boiled, and tea could be made while Mrs. Nowell poached some eggs for the squire, who could not bring himself to touch the leaving of these unbidden guests. Then she and Miss Manners made the beds, and the bustle would have been very amusing to the brother and sister, if Miss Dora had not been so unhappy about her page. " He seemed such a good boy,*' she said, " and I had been giving his mother such a capital account of him ; but of course those women might lead him astray, and now he may be afraid to come back." Pickle and his Page-Boy, 1*45 By this time the policemau came in. He was able to tell them that the party had set off in a van from Cray's public-house, biit he had not seen the boy. However, he knew pretty well who the people were, and he promised to find out if he were with them, and bring him back. Meantime be asked Miss Manners to make sure whether anything was missing ; but she could not discover that anything was wanting. " Some ran to kist, Some ran to cupboard, but nought was gone that could be missed." No ! Where was Pickle ? They called in the back yard, and looked into his usual bed-room, the stable ; but no Pickle came, though once they thought they heard a bark in answer. " The boy must have taken him,'* said Mr. Manners. " Or he ran after the boy. I am sure, whatever he may have been led to do, Robert would never steal him." 146 Pickle and his Page-Bot. Eobert might not, but the policeman did not feel sure that one of the lot might not have done so. Most of them, he said, were only idle raffish EUerby fellows, not likely to steal ; but there was a sharper among them, whom he suspected of being one of the London swell mob come down to profit by the races. Poor Miss Manners felt almost sick with terror lest he should carry oflF Robert to educate him for a swindler or pick- pocket. " Such a clever boy, and so nice look- ing ! " she said. ** My dear Dora," said her brother, " you are half asleep, and your fancy is taking wild flights. The boy was foolish and frightened. Most likely he is only at Cray's ; he will come back to-morrow, and have a good lecture, which will take the conceit out of him for some time to come. You had better go to bed, and take a calmer view of the situation to-morrow.'' Mr. and Mrs. Nowell offered to stay for Pickle and his Page-Bo y. 147 the night, but this was not consented to, and they went home. Arthur, who had been desired to stay in bed, and had been asleep and awake several times, woke again, and was told what had happened. " And Robert ? " he asked ; and when he had been answered, " Ah ! " said he, with great satisfaction, " I never thought much of him. He was a daring, jockey sort of chap, as didn't care to be in the choir.'' And Master Arthur went to sleep com- placently, and dreamt of himself in the whitest of surplices, turning his back on a crimson-coated Robert, who was riding a steeplechase on Pickle. And the next morning it was whispered round in both the schools that there had been fine doings at Miss Manners's, and that my lord had run away with Pickle and all the silver spoons. CHAPTER X. The tool-house was at the bottom of the garden, and since old Grant was laid up, no one was likely to go near it, unless Nowell rfiould take the short cut across the park. But he did not do so, for his wife thought it would be dewy, and she came with him early to get breakfast for Mr. and Miss Manners, and put things in order, so that they might be spared the sight of the hall as it had been left Once or twice Miss Manners fancied she heard Pickle's bark, but she sighed over it as the echo of her own fancy. There was no bread, except the leavings of the feast, and very glad was Mrs. Nowell to see Mr. Lee's boy, Joe, come in with some fresh rolls, which his master had made in a hurry, thinking they would be needed. He also brought a handker- Pickle and hi3 Page-Boy. 149 chief which Bob had left behind him, and then he heard of the page's disappearance ; and Mrs. No well began to observe that was what came of going away from one's duty to such wicked places as the racecourse. "But he never went to the races, missus," exclaimed the boy. "He was locked out of the house, and he and the dog dined up at our place. I seen him going out with master in his cart, and he played cricket, and got five runs." " Bless me, Joe, you don't say so I It gives me quite a turn. Why, whatever can they have done with the poor child ? " And Mrs. Nowell, with less than her usual politeness, bolted into the dining- room with the news that the poor little lad had been at cricket on the hill till nearly ten o'clock, after spending the day in such safe company as Mr. Lee's. "I hope they've not made away with the child," she said. 150 Pickle and his Page-Bot. Mr. Manners laughed. " More likely they frightened him, and he ran away and slept at some house in the village." " But then he would have come back by this time. Have they taken him away to prevent his bearing witness against them ? " said Miss Manners anxiously. Here Mrs. Cray arrived, to make excuses about Rosina, at whose conduct she was greatly shocked ; but she was hardly listened to on that matter, so eager were all to ask about Robert, and whether he had been carried off in the van. Mrs. Cray looked much alarmed in her turn. " Oh, no, ma'am. Is he not here ? My Albert told me how the girls enticed him to go with them. Albert went, you see, ma'am, for he got his father's leave, know- ing that he would meet my brother, who would look after him. But he said the dog ran after Robert, and he turned back, fearing it should be stolen. And Albert Pickle and his Page-Bot. 151 said lie was glad, for he knew they'd get the poor little chap into trouble. And he was right, ma'aiA. Some of them was the worse for liquor when they came back. I said all a woman could to keep them from going down here, and I wouldn't let my Albert come with them, knowing what a liberty it was. If Td thought it of Rosina Crabbe! But they told me so plausible that she had had her disadvantages, and meant to be a good girl." They tried to make out from Mrs. Cray who the party had been, and she was too anxious about the poor boy to keep anything back. When Mr. Manners heard that one of the workmen at the Hall had been of the party, he said he would go up at once and make inquiries. As he reached the green door into the park, his step sounding on the gravel walk, was met by a volley of barks, and a voice crying, " Oh, please let us out, let us out ! " 152 Pickle and his Page-Boy. It came from the tool-house. A turn of the key, a twist of the button — open came the door. Out burst Pickle, barking for joy, and forth stumbled Robert, all dust and cobwebs, so cramped that at first he could hardly stand, and stumbled against the door, and the Squire hardly knew him for his sister's smart little brisk page-boy. " Is it you ? " he said ; " we have been looking for you everywhere." "They shut me up," said Robert, dazzled by the light, and scarcely know- ing who was talking to him. " Shut you up I Who did ? Here, my boy," said the Squire, taking hold of the cold hand and helping him along. " Why, you've got a black eye. What does it all mean? Here, Dora," he called out, ''here's your lost one in a pretty pickle. Don't be frightened," he added ; " I believe you have been a good boy." Robert was a little less dazed when he Pickle and his Page-Bot. 153 saw his mistress, and heard her kind voice; but he tasked — " Are they all gone ? " "Oh, yes," she said cheerily, taking another hand ; " there's nobody to hurt you now. What have they been doing, Robert ? Why did they shut you up ? " " Because I wouldn't " He got so far and stopped. "Because you would not join in their carousal ? " said the Squire. " They wanted to make me drink our table-beer," said Bob. "I ran away, but he caught me, and knocked me about, and shut me up in the tool- house," said he, as if trying to recollect himself. " The poor dear lad. They have used him shameful ! " cried Mrs. No well ; " and to think we fancied him one of them. Come in, my dear, and have some tea, and let me see what's to be done for your poor eye." 154 PidKLE AND HIS PaGE-BoY. He was so stiflF and worn out with crouching among the pots in a position in which he could not sleep more than a moment or two, and so confused and surprised by the sight of his mistress, that it seemed better to let him rest and come to himself before asking him questions. So they made him lie down on his bed, after it had been smoothed, for it had not been touched since he had risen the morn- ing before ; and they gave him some tea and bread and butter, and bathed his eye, and he went off to sleep lying there half- dressed. In the mean time Mrs. Cray came down again, for Rosina had walked over from Ellerby, full of shame and despair, to ask her to intercede with Miss Manners for her, or at any rate to get her wages and clothes for her. Mrs. Cray of course ought never to have recommended a person with- out telling the whole truth, and the vexation Pickle and his P age-Boy. 155 she now suflFered had been a punishment for it. She had known that the poor girl had had a bad home, and had gone from one undesirable service to another, one being in an eating-house, where she had learnt to be a tolerable cook ; then she went to a not very respectable family, who had broken down, and left the place sud- denly. And thus it was that Mrs. Cray, being good-natured, had spoken for her to Miss Manners, without telling what kind of places she had been in, nor that there had been suspicions of her honesty. And now it turned out from what the young woman said to Mrs. Cray, that she had really never in her life come across such people as those who lived in the Cot- tage, and that though she thought less of it in Mrs. Reid, Robert's absolute honesty about " picking " as well as stealing, and his truth about mistakes and breakages, had struck her very much, even though she had only shown it by being cross. L 156 Pickle and his Page-Boy. She had never thought before of mis- tresses excejpt as a sort of slave-drivers, to be cheated and eluded as much as possible, and had scarcely any idea that it was mean and disgraceful to trade with the rabbit-skin woman with her mistress's odds and ends for bits of fihery. Julia was really much worse, though she could put on a better appearance. She had lived in good places at first; but had left the last respectable situation without a character, and then had lived in the same family with Rosina. She was clever and good-natured, and had made Eosina fond of her. And it was she who, being quite reckless of the future, had led to all the misrule and riot of that unhappy evening, though even she had never intended things to go to such lengths ; but when all were excited, and there was plenty of drink, it was no wonder ; all self-control and thought of consequences had been lost. Pickle axd his Page-Boy. 157 Miss Manners at last decided, on hearing what a lesson Rosina had had, and how wretched she was, to let her come back at least for the month to see whether she was really w illing to improve. She ventured this because Mr. and Mrs. Manners had decided on lending her one of their house- maids — ^an old school-girl of her own, who could perfectly be depended on. A good many inquirers after Robert came in the course of the day. And it is to be hoped Arthur Nowell never quite forgot how ashamed he felt of his hard judgment when he heard the true story of that race day. And all the time Robert was asleep. Once when Miss Manners looked in at him he was murmuring something in his sleep. It was, "In an hour when he looketh not for Him." But after that he turned over, and put his hand out to feel for Pickle, and went off again more quietly, and it was not till three o'clock L 2 158 Pickle and his Page Boy. in the afternoon that he woke up, and wondered what time it was, and to find his clothes on. Then he began to recollect himself and to doubt whether he had had a very odd dream. It was not a dream that his eye was swollen, and Mrs. Nowell coming in as he stirred, made him under- stand that he had really seen his mistress and the Squire. She left him to have a good wash and put on his page's suit, while she went to tell Miss Manners that he was awake and seemed quite well. Then, as soon as he had made a sufficient meal to prove that there was not much the matter with him, he was to go to the drawing-room and tell Miss Manners about it. He made rather an odd appearance, as brisk and spruce as ever, with his claret- coloured suit, and his hair sleek with wet, and his swelled purple eye — and he rather hesitated to advance. " Come in, Robert," said the Squire ; Pickle axd his Fag£-Bot. 159 '' never be ashamed of woonds in a ^ood cause.'' They asked him about the whole of yesterday 8 doings, till he had pretty well told all. He spoke the truth and said he had set ojflT with the two women to the races. '^Did you not know that you ought not ? " said Miss Manners. " Yes, ma'am.'' ^' And you recollected yourself and came back." " It was Pickle, ma'am. He got loose, and came after me, and I could not chance having him stolen-" '^ Pickle is as much obliged to you as you are to him," said Mr. Manners. " He was just the help you wanted in getting back to the right way. Was it not so ? " added his mistress. " Yes, ma'am," he said, brightening. And then the rest of the story came out by degrees; and when all was told 160 Pickle and his Page-Boy. the Squire put his hand on the boy's shoulder and said — " I am glad we have an honest-hearted, trustworthy boy here." "Yes, Robert," said Miss Manners, "you have behaved very well, and I have something to tell you. Your mother's mistress has given her a fort- night's holiday, and where do you think she's going to spend it ? " Then Robert grew redder than ever, and he only just got out — " Oh, ma'am, thank you." " Yes, she is coming on Friday by the four o'clock train, and you shall drive in Scug to meet her." Everybody can guess how happy a meeting that was. How different it would have been if Robert had gone on with his tempters, when he would no doubt have lost all command of himself, all sense of watching, and would besides have given the Evil One the first beginning of a hold over him. At any rate ^ he would Pickle and his Page-Boy. 161 not have felt what is the very sweetest and best earthly bliss a boy can know — that his mother is rightly joyful over him. "And yet, mother," he said, "it was all Pickle." " My dear," said Mrs. Fairlie, " there's nobody who does not get their tempt- ations ; but to those that pray there's the promise that God will open a way to escape, if only they open their eyes to see it, and turn back when ever so little a thing brings them to their bear- ings. And, Bobbie my dear, I think that little doggie's love for you was your way of escape. Tis minding those little things that watching means. Yes, Pickle, I see your good faithful eyes twinkling at me, and I hope my boy may always be as faithful as you." THE END. CLAY A.VD TAYLOR, PRINTSIW.