Sturdy and Strong; Or, How George Andrews Made His Way

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER IV.

  HOME.

  That evening George wrote a letter to Dr. Jeffries at Croydon, sayingthat he had taken a little house for his mother to come to when shecame out of the infirmary, and as he had kindly said that he wouldrender her help if he could, would he be good enough to write to theagent whose address he gave, saying that Mrs. Andrews, who was abouttaking No. 8 Laburnum Villas, was a person of respectability.

  The following evening he received a letter from the doctor saying thathe had written to the agent, and that he was glad indeed to hear thatGeorge was getting on so well that he was able to provide a home forhis mother.

  On Wednesday at dinner-time Mrs. Grimstone handed George a key.

  "There you are, George. You are master of the house now. The agentsaid the reference was most satisfactory; so I paid him the seven andsixpence you gave me for a week's rent in advance, and you can go inwhen you like. We shall be sorry to lose you both, for I don't wanttwo better lodgers. You don't give no trouble, and all has been quietand pleasant in the house; and to think what a taking I was in thatday as Bob brought you here for the first time, to think as he had letthe room to two boys. But there, one never knows, and I wouldn't havebelieved it as boys could be so quiet in a house."

  "Now we must begin to see about furniture," Bob Grimstone said. "Thebest plan, I think, will be for you two to go round of an evening toall the shops in the neighborhood, and mark off just what you thinkwill suit you. You put down the prices stuck on them, and just whatthey are, and then the missis can go in the morning and bargain forthem. She will get them five shillings in the pound cheaper than youwould. It's wonderful how women do beat men down, to be sure. When aman hears what's the price of a thing he leaves it or takes it just ashe likes, but a woman begins by offering half the sum. Then the chapsays no, and she makes as if she was going away; he lets her go alittle way and then he hollers after her, and comes down a goodish bitin the price. Then she says she don't particularly want it andshouldn't think of giving any such price as that. Then he tries again,and so they gets on till they hit on a figure as suits them both. Yousee that little tea-caddy in the corner? My wife was just three weeksbuying that caddy. The chap wanted seven and six for it, and sheoffered him half a crown. He came down half a crown at the end of thefirst week, and at last she got it for three and nine. Now, the firstthing you have got to do is to make out a list. First of all you havegot to put down the things as you must have, and then the things youcan do without, though you will get them if you can afford it. Motherwill help you at that."

  So Mrs. Grimstone and George sat down with paper and a pencil, andGeorge was absolutely horrified at the list of things which Mrs.Grimstone declared were absolutely indispensable. However, after muchdiscussion, some few items were marked as doubtful. When the list wasfinished the two boys started on an exploring expedition, and the nextweek all their evenings were fully occupied. In ten days after theybegan the three bedrooms and the kitchen were really smartlyfurnished, Mrs. Grimstone proving a wonderful hand at bargaining, andmaking the ten pounds go farther than George had believed possible. Onthe Sunday Bob went with his wife and the boys to inspect the house.

  "It's a very comfortable little place," he said, "and that frontbedroom with the chintz curtains the missis made up is as nice alittle room as you want to see. As to the others they will do wellenough for you boys."

  The only articles of furniture in the sitting room were two longmuslin curtains, which Mrs. Grimstone had bought a bargain at a shopselling off; for it was agreed that this was necessary to give thehouse a furnished appearance. Bob Grimstone was so much pleased atwhat had been done that he shared George's feeling of regret that oneof the sitting rooms could not also be furnished, and on the walk homesaid:

  "Look here, George. I know you would like to have the house nice foryour mother. You couldn't make one of those sitting rooms comfortablenot under a five-pound note, not even with the missis to market foryou, but you might for that. I have got a little money laid by in thesavings-bank, and I will lend you five pounds, and welcome, if youlike to take it. I know it will be just as safe with you as it will bethere."

  "Thank you very much, Bob--thank you very much, but I won't take it.In the first place, I should like mother to know that the furniture isall ours, bought out of Bill's savings and mine; and in the nextplace, I should find it hard at first to pay back anything. I think wecan just manage on our money, but that will be all. I told you motherdoes work, but she mayn't be able to get any at first, so we can'treckon on that. When she does, you know, we shall be able gradually tobuy the furniture."

  "Well, perhaps you are right, George," the man said after a pause."You would have been welcome to the money: but perhaps you are rightnot to take it. I borrowed a little money when I first went intohousekeeping, and it took a wonderful trouble to pay off, and ifthere's illness or anything of that sort it weighs on you. Not that Ishould be in any hurry about it. It wouldn't worry me, but it wouldworry you."

  A week later Mrs. Andrews was to leave the infirmary, and on SaturdayGeorge asked for a day off to go down to fetch her. Every eveningthrough the week he and Bill had worked away at digging up the garden.Fortunately there was a moon, for it was dark by the time they cameout from the works. Bill was charged with the commission to lay in thestore of provisions for the Sunday, and he was to be sure to have acapital fire and tea ready by four o'clock, the hour at which Georgecalculated he would be back.

  Very delighted was George as in his best suit--for he and Bill had twosuits each now--he stepped out of the train at Croydon and walked tothe workhouse. His mother had told him that she would meet him at thegate at half-past two, and punctually at the time he was there. A fewminutes later Mrs. Andrews came out, not dressed as he had seen her atChristmas, in the infirmary garb, but in her own clothes. George gavea cry of delight as he ran forward to meet her.

  "My darling mother! and you are looking quite yourself again."

  "I am, thank God, George. It has seemed a long nine months, but therest and quiet have done wonders for me. Everyone has been very kind;and of course the knowledge, dear boy, that you had got work that youliked helped me to get strong again. And you are looking well too; andyour friend, I hope he is well?"

  "Quite well, mother, but in a great fright about you. He is glad youare coming because I am glad; but the poor fellow has quite made uphis mind that you won't like him and you won't think him a fitcompanion for me. I told him over and over again that you are not thatsort; but nothing can persuade him. Of course, mother, he doesn't talkgood grammar, and he uses some queer expressions; but he is very muchchanged in that way since I first knew him, and he tries very hard,and don't mind a bit how often I correct him, and he is beginning toread easy words quite well; and he is one of the best-hearted fellowsin the world."

  "If he is kind to you, George, and fond of you, that's enough for me,"Mrs. Andrews said; "but I have no doubt I shall soon like him forhimself. You could not like him as much as you do if there were notsomething nice about him. And you have succeeded in getting a room forme in the house in which you lodge?" for George had never mentioned aword in his letter about taking a house, and had asked Dr. Jeffries ifhe should see his mother to say nothing to her about his applicationto him.

  "Yes, that's all right, mother," he replied briskly.

  "And you have got some new clothes since I saw you last, George. Youwanted them; yours were getting rather shabby when I saw you atChristmas."

  "Yes, mother, they were."

  "I suppose you had to part with your best suit while you were so longout of work?"

  "That was it, mother; but you see I have been able to get some morethings. They are only cheap ones, you know, but they will do very welluntil I can afford better ones. I am not walking too fast for you, amI? But we shall just catch the train. Or look here, would you mindgoing straight by yourself to the railway station? Then you can walkslowly. I will go round and get your box. I went into our old place asI came alo
ng, and Mrs. Larkins said she would bring it downstairs forme as I came back."

  "No, I would rather go round with you, George. I want to thank her forhaving kept it for me so long. Even if we do miss the train it willnot matter much, as it will make no difference whether we get in townan hour earlier or later."

  As George could not explain his special reason for desiring to catchthat train he was obliged to agree, and they stopped a quarter of anhour at their old lodging, as Mrs. Larkins insisted upon their havinga cup of tea which she had prepared for them. However, when theyreached the station they found that a train was going shortly, andwhen they reached town they were not so very much later than Georgehad calculated upon.

  They took a cab, for although Mrs. Andrews' box was not heavy, it wastoo much for George to carry that distance; besides, Mrs. Andrewsherself was tired from her walk to the station from the infirmary,having had no exercise for so long. When they got into theneighborhood of Limehouse George got outside to direct the cabman. Itwas just a quarter past four when the cab drew up at No. 8 LaburnumVillas.

  "Why, is this the house?" Mrs. Andrews asked in surprise as Georgejumped down and opened the door. "Why, you told me in one of yourletters it was a house in a row. What a pretty little place! It isreally here, George?"

  "It is here, mother; we moved the other day. There is Bill at thedoor;" but Bill, having opened the door, ran away out into the garden,and George, having paid the cabman, carried his mother's box in andentered the house with her.

  "Straight on, mother, into the little room at the end."

  "What a snug little kitchen!" Mrs. Andrews said as she entered it;"and tea all laid and ready! What, have they lent you the room forthis evening?"

  "My dear mother," George said, throwing his arms round her neck,"this is your kitchen and your house, all there is of it, only thesitting room isn't furnished yet. We must wait for that, you know."

  "What! you have taken a whole house, my boy! that is very nice; butcan we afford it, George? It seems too good to be true."

  "It is quite true, mother, and I think it's a dear little house, andwill be splendid when we have got it all furnished. Now come up andsee the bedrooms. This is Bill's, you know," and he opened the door onthe staircase, "and this is mine, and this is yours."

  "Oh, what a pretty little room!" Mrs. Andrews said: "but, my dearGeorge, the rent of this house and the hire of the furniture willsurely be more than we can afford to pay. I know what a good manageryou are, my boy, but I have such a horror of getting into debt that italmost frightens me."

  "The rent of the house is seven and sixpence a week, mother, withrates and taxes, and we can afford that out of Bill's earnings andmine, even if you did not do any work at all; and as to the furniture,it is every bit paid for out of our savings since we went to work."

  On hearing which Mrs. Andrews threw her arms round George's neck andburst into tears of happiness. She was not very strong, and thethought of the sacrifices these two boys must have made to get ahouse together for her completely overpowered her.

  "It seems impossible, George," she said when she had recoveredherself. "Why, you have only been earning ten shillings a week each,and you have had to keep yourselves and get clothes and all sorts ofthings; it seems impossible."

  "It has not cost so much as you think, mother, and Bill and I had bothlearned to live cheap in Covent Garden; but now let us go downstairs;you have not seen Bill yet, and I know tea will be ready."

  But Bill had not yet come in, and George had to go out into the gardento fetch him.

  "Come on, Bill; mother is delighted with everything. She won't eatyou, you know."

  "No, she won't eat me, George; but she will think me an out-and-outsort of 'ottentot," which word had turned up in a book the boys hadbeen reading on an evening previously.

  "Well, wait till she says so; come along."

  So linking his arm in Bill's, George drew him along, and brought himshamefaced and bashful into the kitchen.

  "This is Bill, mother."

  "I am glad to see you, Bill," Mrs. Andrews said, holding out her hand."I have heard so much of you from George that I seem to know you quitewell."

  Bill put his hand out shyly.

  "I am sure we shall get on well together," Mrs. Andrews went on. "Ishall never forget that you were a friend to my boy when he wasfriendless in London."

  "It's all the t'other way, ma'am," Bill said eagerly; "don't you gofor to think it. Why, just look what George has done for me! There wasI, a-hanging about the Garden, pretty nigh starving, and sure to getquadded sooner or later; and now here I am living decent, and earninga good wage; and he has taught me to read, ma'am, and to know aboutthings, and aint been ashamed of me, though I am so different to whathe is. I tell you, ma'am, there aint no saying what a friend he's beento me, and I aint done nothing for him as I can see."

  "Well, Bill, you perhaps both owe each other something," Mrs. Andrewssaid: "and I owe you something as well as my son, for George tells methat it is to your self-denial as well as to his own that I owe thisdelightful surprise of finding a home ready for me; and now," she wenton, seeing how confused and unhappy Bill looked, "I think you twoought to make tea this evening, for you are the hosts, and I am theguest. In future it will be my turn."

  "All right, mother! you sit down in this armchair; Bill, you do therashers, and I will pour the water into the pot and then toast themuffins."

  Bill was at home now; such culinary efforts as they had hithertoattempted had generally fallen to his share, as he had a greateraptitude for the work than George had, and a dish of bacon fried to aturn was soon upon the table.

  Mrs. Andrews had been watching Bill closely, and was pleased with theresult of her observation. Bill was indeed greatly improved inappearance since he had first made George's acquaintance. His cheekshad filled out, and his face had lost its hardness of outline; thequick, restless, hunted expression of his eyes had nearly died out,and he no longer looked as if constantly on the watch to dodge anexpected cuff; his face had always had a large share of that merrimentand love of fun which seem the common portion of the London arabs, andseldom desert them under all their hardships; but it was a happier andbrighter spirit now, and had altogether lost its reckless character. Asimilar change is always observable among the waifs picked up off thestreets by the London refuges after they have been a few months onboard a training ship.

  When all was ready the party sat down to their meal. Mrs. Andrewsundertook the pouring out of the tea, saying that although she was aguest, as the only lady present she should naturally preside. Georgecut the bread, and Bill served the bacon. The muffins were piled on aplate in the front of the fire as a second course.

  It was perhaps the happiest meal that any of the three had ever satdown to. Mrs. Andrews was not only happy at finding so comfortable ahome prepared for her, but was filled with a deep feeling of pride andthankfulness at the evidence of the love, steadiness, andself-sacrifice of her son. George was delighted at having his motherwith him again, and at seeing her happiness and contentment at thehome he had prepared for her. Bill was delighted because George wasso, and he was moreover vastly relieved at finding Mrs. Andrews lessterrible than he had depicted her.

  After tea was cleared away they talked together for a while, and thenBill--feeling with instinctive delicacy that George and his motherwould like to talk together for a time--said he should take a turn foran hour, and on getting outside the house executed so wild a war-danceof satisfaction that it was fortunate it was dark, or Laburnum Villaswould have been astonished and scandalized at the spectacle.

  "I like your friend Bill very much," Mrs. Andrews said when she wasalone with George. "I was sure from what you told me that he must be agood-hearted lad; but brought up as he has been, poor boy, I feared alittle that he would scarcely be a desirable companion in point ofmanners. Of course, as you say, his grammar is a little peculiar; buthis manners are wonderfully quiet and nice, considering all."

  "Look what an example he's ha
d, mother," George laughed; "but reallyhe has taken great pains ever since he knew that you were cominghome. He has been asking me to tell him of anything he does which isnot right, especially about eating and that sort of thing. You see hehad never used a fork till we came down here, and he made me show himdirectly how it should be held and what to do with it. It has beenquite funny to me to see him watching me at meals, and doing exactlythe same."

  "And you have taught him to read, George?"

  "Yes, mother."

  "And something of better things, George?" she asked.

  "Yes, mother, as much as I could. He didn't know anything when I methim; but he goes to church with me now regularly, and says his prayersevery night, and I can tell you he thinks a lot of it. More, I think,than I ever did," he added honestly.

  "Perhaps he has done you as much good as you have done him, George."

  "Perhaps he has, mother; yes, I think so. When you see a chap so veryearnest for a thing you can't help being earnest yourself; besides,you know, mother," he went on a little shyly, for George had not beenaccustomed to talk much of these matters with his mother--"you seewhen one's down in the world and hard up, and not quite sure about thenext meal, and without any friend, one seems to think more of thesethings than one does when one is jolly at school with other fellows."

  "Perhaps so, George, though I do not know why it should be so, for themore blessings one has the more reason for love and gratitude to thegiver. However, dear, I think we have both reason to be grateful now,have we not?"

  "That we have, mother. Only think of the difference since we saidgood-by to each other last summer! Now here you are strong and wellagain, and we are together and don't mean to be separated, and I havegot a place I like and have a good chance of getting on in, and wehave got a pretty little house all to ourselves, and you will be ableto live a little like a lady again,--I mean as you were accustomedto,--and everything is so nice. Oh, mother, I am sure we have everyreason to be grateful!"

  "We have indeed, George, and I even more than you, in the proofs youhave given me that my son is likely to turn out all that even I couldwish him."

  Bill's hour was a very long one.

  "You must not go out of an evening, Bill, to get out of our way," Mrs.Andrews said when he returned, "else I shall think that I am in yourway. It was kind of you to think of it the first evening, and Georgeand I are glad to have had a long talk together, but in future I hopeyou won't do it. You see there will be lots to do of an evening. Therewill be your lessons and George's, for I hope now that he's settled hewill give up an hour or two every evening to study. Not Latin andGreek, George," she added, smiling, seeing a look of something likedismay in George's face, "that will be only a waste of time to younow, but a study of such things as may be useful to you in yourpresent work and in your future life, and a steady course of readingreally good books by good authors. Then perhaps when you have bothdone your work, you will take it by turns to read out loud while I domy sewing. Then perhaps some day, who knows, if we get on veryflourishingly, after we have furnished our sitting room, we may beable to indulge in the luxury of a piano again and have a little musicof an evening."

  "That will be jolly, mother. Why, it will be really like old times,when you used to sing to me!"

  Mrs. Andrews' eyes filled with tears at the thought of the old times,but she kept them back bravely, so as not to mar, even for a moment,the happiness of this first evening. So they chatted till nineo'clock, when they had supper. After it was over Mrs. Andrews left theroom for a minute and went upstairs and opened her box, and returnedwith a Bible in her hand.

  "I think, boys," she said, "we ought to end this first happy eveningin our new home by thanking God together for his blessings."

  "I am sure we ought, mother," George said, and Bill's face expressedhis approval.

  So Mrs. Andrews read a chapter, and then they knelt and thanked Godfor his blessings, and the custom thus begun was continued henceforthin No. 8 Laburnum Villas.

  Hitherto George and his companion had found things much more pleasantat the works than they had expected. They had, of course, hadprincipally to do with Bob Grimstone; still there were many other menin the shop, and at times, when his bench was standing idle while someslight alterations or adjustment of machinery were made, they were setto work with others. Men are quick to see when boys are doing theirbest, and, finding the lads intent upon their work and given neitherto idleness nor skylarking, they seldom had a sharp word addressed tothem. But after Mrs. Andrews had come home they found themselvesaddressed in a warmer and more kindly manner by the men. Bob Grimstonehad told two or three of his mates of the sacrifices the boys had madeto save up money to make a home for the mother of one of them when shecame out of hospital. They were not less impressed than he had been,and the story went the round of the workshops and even came to theears of the foreman, and there was not a man there but expressedhimself in warm terms of surprise and admiration that two lads shouldfor six months have stinted themselves of food in order to lay by halftheir pay for such a purpose.

  "There's precious few would have done such a thing," one of the olderworkmen said, "not one in a thousand; why, not one chap in a hundred,even when he's going to be married, will stint himself like that tomake a home for the gal he is going to make his wife, so as to starthousekeeping out of debt; and as to doing it for a mother, where willyou find 'em? In course a man ought to do as much for his mother asfor the gal who is agoing to be his wife, seeing how much he owes her;but how many does it, that's what I says, how many does it?"

  So after that the boys were surprised to find how many of the men,when they met them at the gate, would give them a kindly nod or ahearty, "Good-morning, young chaps!"

  A day or two after Mrs. Andrews had settled in Laburnum Villas shewent up to town and called upon a number of shops, asking for work. Asshe was able to give an excellent reference to the firm for whom shehad worked at Croydon she succeeded before the end of the week inobtaining millinery work for a firm in St. Paul's Churchyard, and asshe had excellent taste and was very quick at her needle she was soonable to earn considerably more than she had done at Croydon.

  The three were equally determined that they would live as closely aspossible until the sitting-rooms were furnished, and by strictmanagement they kept within the boys' pay, Mrs. Andrews' earningsbeing devoted to the grand purpose. The small articles were boughtfirst, and each week there was great congratulation and pleasure assome new article was placed in the rooms. Then there was a pause forsome time, then came the chairs, then after an interval a table, andlastly the carpet. This crowning glory was not attained until the endof July. After this they moved solemnly into the sitting-room,agreeing that the looking-glass, chiffonier, and sofa could be addedat a more gradual rate, and that the whole of Mrs. Andrews' earningsneed no longer be devoted.

  "Now, boys," Mrs. Andrews said on that memorable evening, "I want youin future, when you come in, to change your working clothes before youcome in here to your teas. So long as we lived in the kitchen I havelet things go on, but I think there's something in the old saying,'Company clothes, company manners,' and I think it is good when boyscome in that they should lay aside their heavy-nailed shoes and theirworking clothes. Certainly such boots and clothes are apt to renderpeople clumsy in their movements, and the difference of walk which youobserve between men of different classes arises very greatly from theclumsy, heavy boots which workingmen must wear."

  "But what does it matter, mother?" George urged, for it seemed to himthat it would be rather a trouble to change his clothes every day."These little things don't make any real difference to a man."

  "Not any vital difference, George, but a real difference for allthat. Manners make the man, you know! that is, they influencestrangers and people who only know him in connection with business. Iftwo men apply together for a place the chances are strongly in favorof the man with the best manners getting it. Besides, my boy, I thinkthe observance of little courtesies of this kind make h
ome pleasanterand brighter. You see I always change my dress before tea, and I amsure you prefer my sitting down to the table tidy and neat with afresh collar and cuffs, to my taking my place in my working dress withodds and ends of threads and litter clinging to it."

  "Of course I do, mother, and I see what you mean now. Certainly I willchange my things in future. You don't mind, do you, Bill?"

  Bill would not have minded in the least any amount of trouble by whichhe could give the slightest satisfaction to Mrs. Andrews, who had nowa place in his affections closely approximating to that which Georgeoccupied.

  During the summer months the programme for the evening was not carriedout as arranged, for at the end of April Mrs. Andrews herself declaredthat there must be a change.

  "The evenings are getting light enough now for a walk after tea, boys,and you must therefore cut short our reading and studies till the daysclose in again in the autumn. It would do you good to get out in theair a bit."

  "But will you come with us, mother?"

  "No, George. Sometimes as evenings get longer we may make littleexcursions together: go across the river to Greenwich and spend two orthree hours in the park, or take a steamer and go up the river to Kew;but as a general thing you had better take your rambles together. Ihave my front garden to look after, the vegetables are your work, youknow, and if I like I can go out and do whatever shopping I have to dowhile you two are away."

  So the boys took to going out walks, which got longer and longer asthe evenings drew out, and when they were not disposed for a longramble they would go down to a disused wharf and sit there and watchthe barges drifting down the river or tacking backwards and forwards,if there was a wind, with their great brown and yellow sails hauledtautly in, and the great steamers dropping quietly down the river, andthe little busy tugs dragging great ships after them. There was anendless source of amusement in wondering from what ports the variouscraft had come or what was their destination.

  "What seems most wonderful to me, George," Bill said one day, "whenone looks at them big steamers----"

  "Those," George corrected.

  "Thank ye--at those big steamers, is to think that they can be tossedabout, and the sea go over them, as one reads about, just the sameway as the wave they make when they goes down----"

  "Go down, Bill."

  "Thank ye--go down the river, tosses the little boats about; it don'tseem possible that water can toss itself about so high as that, doesit?"

  "It does seem extraordinary, Bill; we know that it is so because thereare constantly wrecks; but looking at the water it does not seempossible that it should rise up into waves large enough to knock oneof those great steamers in pieces. Some day, Bill, not this year, ofcourse, because the house isn't finished, but next year, I hope weshall be able all of us to go down for a trip to the sea. I have seenit stuck up you can go to Margate and back for three or fourshillings; and though Bob Grimstone says that isn't regular sea, itwould be enough to show us something of what it's like."

  The garden occupied a good deal of the boys' time. Bill's longexperience in the market had given him an interest in vegetables, andhe was always ready for an hour's work in the garden after tea. Theresults of much labor and plenty of manure were not unsatisfactory,and Mrs. Andrews was delighted with her regular supply of freshvegetables. Bill's anticipation, however, of the amount that could begrown in a limited space were by no means fulfilled, and seeing thesmall amount which could be daily gathered, and recalling thecountless piled-up wagons which he had been accustomed to see inCovent Garden, he was continually expressing his astonishment at theenormous quantity of ground which must be employed in keeping up thesupply of the market.

  They did not that year get the trip to Margate; but in the autumn,after the great work of furnishing was finished, they did get severallong jaunts, once out to Epping Forest on an omnibus, once in asteamer up to Kew, and several times across to Greenwich Park. Mrs.Andrews found it a very happy summer, free from the wear of anxiety,which, more even than the work, had brought on her long illness. Shegrew stronger and better than she had ever expected to be again, andthose who had only known the pale, harassed-looking needlewoman ofCroydon would not have recognized her now; indeed, as George saidsometimes, his mother looked younger and younger every day. She hadmarried very young, and was still scarcely five-and-thirty, andalthough she laughed and said that George was a foolish boy when hesaid that people always took her for his sister, she really lookedsome years younger than she was. Her step had regained its elasticity,and there was a ring of gladness and happiness in her voice which wasvery attractive, and even strangers sometimes looked round as theypassed the bright, pleasant-looking woman chatting gayly with the twohealthy, good-looking young fellows.