Martin Rattler Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  A LESSON TO ALL STOCKING-KNITTERS--MARTIN'S PROSPECTS BEGIN TO OPEN UP

  In the small sea-port of Bilton, before mentioned, there dwelt an old andwealthy merchant and ship-owner, who devoted a small portion of his timeto business, and a very large portion of it to what is usually termed"doing good," This old gentleman was short, and stout, and rosy, andbald, and active, and sharp as a needle.

  In the short time that Mr. Arthur Jollyboy devoted to business, heaccomplished as much as most men do in the course of a long day. Therewas not a benevolent society in the town, of which Arthur Jollyboy,Esquire, of the Old Hulk (as he styled his cottage), was not a member,director, secretary, and treasurer, all in one, and all at once! If ithad been possible for man to be ubiquitous, Mr. Jollyboy would have beenso naturally; or, if not naturally, he would have made himself so byforce of will. Yet he made no talk about it. His step was quiet, thoughquick; and his voice was gentle, though rapid; and he was chiefly famousfor _talking_ little and _doing_ much.

  Some time after the opening of our tale, Mr. Jollyboy had receivedinformation of Mrs. Grumbit's stocking movement. That same afternoon heput on his broad-brimmed white hat, and, walking out to the village inwhich she lived, called upon the vicar, who was a particular and intimatefriend of his. Having ascertained from the vicar that Mrs. Grumbit wouldnot accept of charity, he said abruptly,--

  "And why not,--is she too proud?"

  "By no means," replied the vicar. "She says that she would think shame totake money from friends as long as she can work, because every penny thatshe would thus get would be so much less to go to the helpless poor; ofwhom, she says, with much truth, there are enough and to spare. And Iquite agree with her as regards her principle; but it does not applyfully to her, for she cannot work so as to procure a sufficientlivelihood without injury to her health."

  "Is she clever?" inquired Mr. Jollyboy.

  "Why, no, not particularly. In fact, she does not often exert herreasoning faculties, except in the common-place matters of ordinary andevery-day routine."

  "Then she's cleverer than most people," said Mr. Jollyboy, shortly. "Isshe obstinate?"

  "No, not in the least," returned the vicar with a puzzled smile.

  "Ah, well, good-bye, good-bye; that's all I want to know."

  Mr. Jollyboy rose, and hurrying through the village, tapped at thecottage door, and was soon closeted with Mrs. Dorothy Grumbit. In thecourse of half an hour, Mr. Jollyboy drew from Mrs. Grumbit as much abouther private affairs as he could, without appearing rude. But he found theold lady very close and sensitive on that point. Not so, however, when hegot her upon the subject of her nephew. She had enough, and more thanenough, to say about him. It is true she began by remarking, sadly, thathe was a very bad boy; but, as she continued to talk about him, shesomehow or other gave her visitor the impression that he was a very_good_ boy! They had a wonderfully long and confidential talk aboutMartin, during which Mr. Jollyboy struck Mrs. Grumbit nearly dumb withhorror by stating positively what he would do for the boy,--he would sendhim to sea! Then, seeing that he had hit the wrongest possible nail onthe head, he said that he would make the lad a clerk in his office, wherehe would be sure to rise to a place of trust; whereat Mrs. Grumbitdanced, if we may so speak, into herself for joy.

  "And now, ma'am, about these stockings. I want two thousand pairs as soonas I can get them!"

  "Sir?" said Mrs. Grumbit.

  "Of course, not for my own use, ma'am; nor for the use of my family, forI have no family; and if I had, that would be an unnecessarily largesupply. The fact is, Mrs. Grumbit, I am a merchant, and I send very largesupplies of home-made articles to foreign lands, and two thousand pairsof socks are a mere driblet. Of course I do not expect you to make themall for me, but I wish you to make as many pairs as you can."

  "I shall be very happy--" began Mrs. Grumbit.

  "But, Mrs. Grumbit, there is a peculiar formation which I require in mysocks that will give you extra trouble, I fear; but I must have it,whatever the additional expense may be. What is your charge for the pairyou are now making?"

  "Three shillings," said Mrs. Grumbit.

  "Ah! very good. Now, take up the wires if you please, ma'am, and do whatI tell you. Now, drop that stitch,--good; and take up this one,--capital;and pull this one across that way,--so; and that one across thisway,--exactly. Now, what is the result?"

  The result was a complicated knot; and Mrs. Grumbit, after staring a fewseconds at the old gentleman in surprise, said so, and begged to knowwhat use it was of.

  "Oh, never mind, never mind. We merchants have strange fancies, andforeigners have curious tastes now and then. Please to make all mysocks with a hitch like that in them all round, just above the ankle.It will form an ornamental ring. I'm sorry to put you to the trouble,but of course I pay extra for fancy-work. Will six shillings a pair dofor these?"

  "My dear sir," said Mrs. Grumbit, "it is no additional--"

  "Well, well, never mind," said Mr. Jollyboy. "Two thousand pairs,remember, as soon as possible,--close knitted, plain stitch, rathercoarse worsted; and don't forget the hitch, Mrs. Grumbit, don't forgetthe hitch."

  Ah! reader, there are many Mrs. Grumbits in this world, requiring_hitches_ to be made in their stockings!

  At this moment the door burst open. Mrs. Dorothy Grumbit uttered apiercing scream, Mr. Jollyboy dropped his spectacles and sat down onhis hat, and Martin Rattler stood before them with the white kittenin his arms.

  For a few seconds there was a dead silence, while an expression ofpuzzled disappointment passed over Mr. Jollyboy's ruddy countenance. Atlast he said,--

  "Is this, madam, the nephew who, you told me a little ago, is notaddicted to fighting?"

  "Yes," answered the old lady faintly, and covering her eyes with herhands, "that is Martin."

  "If my aunt told you that, sir, she told you the truth," said Martin,setting down the blood-stained white kitten, which forthwith began tostretch its limbs and lick itself dry. "I don't ever fight if I can helpit, but I couldn't help it to-day."

  With a great deal of energy, and a revival of much of his formerindignation, when he spoke of the kitten's sufferings, Martin recountedall the circumstances of the fight; during the recital of which Mrs.Dorothy Grumbit took his hand in hers and patted it, gazing the whileinto his swelled visage, and weeping plentifully, but very silently. Whenhe had finished, Mr. Jollyboy shook hands with him, and said he was atrump, at the same time recommending him to go and wash his face. Then hewhispered a few words in Mrs. Grumbit's ear, which seemed to give thatexcellent lady much pleasure; after which he endeavoured to straightenhis crushed hat; in which attempt he failed, took his leave, promised tocall again very soon, and went back to the Old Hulk--chuckling.