Chapter 19. Brother Solomon

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_ CHAPTER NINETEEN. BROTHER SOLOMON

The new-comer went slowly up the ladder, looked at my work, and then took out a small knife with a flat ivory handle, came down again, stropped the knife on his boot, went up, and pared my stump just round the edge, taking off a very thin smooth piece of bark.

"Good!" he said as he wiped his knife, came down, and put the knife away; "but your knife wanted a touch on a bit o' Turkey-stone. How are you, Ezra?"

Old Brownsmith set down some cats gently, got up off the bushel basket slowly, and shook hands.

"Fairly, Solomon, fairly; and how are you?"

"Tidy," said the visitor, "tidy;" and he stared very hard at me. "This is him, is it?"

"Yes, this is he, Solomon. Grant, my lad, this is my brother Solomon."

I bowed after the old fashion taught at home.

"Shake hands. How are you?" said Mr Solomon; and I shook hands with him and said I was quite well, I thanked him; and he said, "Hah!"

"He has just come up from Hampton, Grant--from Sir Francis Linton's. He's going to take you back."

"Take me back, sir!" I said wonderingly. "Have--have I done anything you don't like?"

"No, my lad, no--only I've taught you all I can; and now you will go with him and learn gardening under glass--to grow peaches, and grapes, and mushrooms, and all kinds of choice flowers."

I looked at him in a troubled way, and he hastened to add:

"A fine opportunity for you, my boy. Brother Solomon is a very famous gardener and takes prizes at the shows."

"Oh! as to that," said Brother Solomon, "we're not much. We do the best we can."

"Horticultural medals, gold and bronze," said Old Brownsmith, smiling. "There!--you'll have to do so as well, Grant, my lad--you will have to do me credit."

I crept close to him and half-whispered:

"But must I go, sir?"

"Yes, my lad, it is for your benefit," he said rather sternly; and I suppose I gave him such a piteous look that his face softened a little and he patted my shoulder. "Come," he said, "you must be a man!"

I seemed to have something in my throat which I was obliged to swallow; but I made an effort, and after a trial or two found that I could speak more clearly.

"Shall I have to go soon, sir?"

"Yes: now," said Old Brownsmith.

"Not till I've had a look round," said Brother Solomon in a slow meditative way, as he took out a handkerchief and wiped his hands, staring about him at the trees and bushes, and then, as a cat gave a friendly rub against his leg, he stooped down after the fashion of his brother, picked it up, and held it on his arm, stroking it all the time.

I had not liked the look of Brother Solomon, for he seemed cold, and quiet, and hard. His face looked stiff, as if he never by any chance smiled; and it appeared to me as if I were going from where I had been treated like a son to a home where I should be a stranger.

"Yes," he said after looking about him, as if he were going to find fault, "I sha'n't go back just yet awhile."

"Oh no! you'll have a snap of something first, and Grant here will want a bit of time to pack up his things."

Old Brownsmith seemed to be speaking more kindly to me now, and this made me all the more miserable, for I had felt quite at home; and though Shock and I were bad friends, and Ike was not much of a companion, I did not want to leave them.

Old Brownsmith saw my looks, and he said:

"You will run over now and then to see me and tell me how you get on. Brother Solomon here never likes to leave his glass-houses, but you can get away now and then. Eh, Solomon?"

"P'r'aps," said Brother Solomon, looking right away from us. "We shall see."

My heart sank as I saw how cold and unsympathetic he seemed. I felt that I should never like him, and that he would never like me. He had hardly looked at me, but when he did there was to me the appearance in his eyes of his being a man who hated all boys as nuisances and to make matters worse, he took his eyes off a bed of onions to turn them suddenly on his brother and say:

"Hadn't he better go and make up his bundle?"

"Yes, to be sure," said Old Brownsmith. "Go and tell Mrs Dodley you want your clean clothes, my boy; and tell her my brother Solomon's going to have a bit with us."

"And see whether your boy has given my horse his oats, will you?" said Brother Solomon.

I went away, feeling very heavy-hearted, and found Shock in the stable, in the next stall to old Basket, watching a fine stoutly-built cob that had just been taken out of a light cart. The horse's head-stall had been taken off, and a halter put on; and as he munched at his oats, Shock helped him, munching away at a few that he took from one hand.

I was in so friendly a mood to every one just then that I was about to go up and shake hands with Shock; but as soon as he saw me coming he dived under the manger, and crept through into old Basket's stall, and then thrust back his doubled fist at me, and there it was being shaken menacingly, as if he were threatening to punch my head.

This exasperated me so that in an instant the honey within me was turned to vinegar, and I made a rush round at him, startling our old horse so that he snorted and plunged; but I did not catch Shock, for he dived back through the hole under the manger into the next stall. Then on under the manger where Brother Solomon's horse was feeding, making him start back and nearly break his halter, while Shock went on into the third stall, disturbing a hen from the nest she had made in the manger, and sending her cackling and screaming out into the yard, where the cock and the other hens joined in the hubbub.

As I ran round to the third stall I was just in time to see Shock's legs disappearing, as he climbed up the perpendicular ladder against the wall, and shot through the trap-door into the hay-loft.

"You shall beg my pardon before I go," I said between my teeth, as I looked up, and there was his grubby fist coming out of the hole in the ceiling, and being shaken at me.

I rushed at the ladder, and had ascended a couple of rounds, when bang went the trap-door, and there was a bump, which I knew meant that Shock had seated himself on the trap, so that I could not get it up.

"Oh, all right!" I said aloud. "I sha'n't come after you, you dirty old grub. I'm going away to-day, and you can shake your fist at somebody else."

I had satisfied myself that Brother Solomon's horse was all right, so I now strode up to the house and told Mrs Dodley to spread the table for a visitor, and said that I should want my clean things as I was going away.

"What! for a holiday?" she said.

"No; I'm going away altogether," I said.

"I know'd it," she cried angrily; "I know'd it. I always said it would come to that with you mixing yourself up with that bye. A nasty dirty hay-and-straw-sleeping young rascal, as is more like a monkey than a bye. And now you're to be sent away."

"Yes," I said grimly; "now I'm to be sent away."

She stood frowning at me for a minute, and then took off her dirty apron and put on a clean one, with a good deal of angry snatching.

"I shall just go and give Mr Brownsmith a bit of my mind," she said. "I won't have you sent away like that, and all on account of that bye."

"No, no," I said. "I'm going away with Mr Brownsmith's brother, to learn all about hothouses I suppose."

"Oh, my dear bye!" she exclaimed. "You mustn't do that. You'll have to be stoking and poking all night long, and ketch your death o' cold, and be laid up, and be ill-used, and be away from everybody who cares for you, and and I don't want you to go."

The tears began to run down the poor homely-looking woman's face, and affected me, so that I was obliged to run out, or I should have caught her complaint.

"I must be a man over it," I said. "I suppose it's right;" and I went off down the garden to say "Good-bye" to the men and women, and have a few last words with Ike.

As I went down the garden I suddenly began to feel that for a long time past it had been my home, and that every tree I passed was an old friend. I had not known it before, but it struck me now that I had been very happy there leading a calm peaceable life; and now I was going away to fresh troubles and cares amongst strangers, and it seemed as if I should never be so happy again.

To make matters worse I was going down the path that I had traversed that day so long ago, when I first went to buy some fruit and flowers for my mother, and this brought back her illness, and the terrible trouble that had followed. Then I seemed to see myself up at the window over the wall there, at Mrs Beeton's, watching the garden, and Shock throwing dabs of clay at me with the stick.

"Poor old Shock!" I said. "I wonder whether he'll be glad when I'm gone. I suppose he will."

I was thinking about how funny it was that we had never become a bit nearer to being friendly, and then I turned miserable and choking, for I came upon half a dozen of the women pulling and bunching onions for market.

"I've come to say good-bye," I cried huskily. "I'm going away."

"Oh! are you?" said one of them just looking up. "Good luck to you!"

The coolness of the rough woman seemed to act as a check on my sentimentality, and I went on feeling quite hurt; and a few minutes later I was quite angry, for I came to where the men were digging, and told them I was going away, and one of them stopped, and stared, and said:

"All right! will yer leave us a lock of yer hair?"

I went on, and they shouted after me:

"I say, stand a gallon o' beer afore you go."

"There's nobody cares for me but poor Mrs Dodley," I said to myself in a choking voice, and then my pride gave me strength.

"Very well," I exclaimed aloud; "if they don't care, I don't, and I'm glad I'm going, and I shall be very glad when I'm gone."

That was not true, for, as I went on, I saw this tree whose pears I had picked, and that apple-tree whose beautiful rosy fruit I had put so carefully into baskets. There were the plum-trees I had learned how to prune and nail, and whose violet and golden fruit I had so often watched ripening. That was where George Day had scrambled over, and I had hung on to his legs, and there--No; I turned away from that path, for there were the two brothers slowly walking along with the cats, looking at the different crops, and I did not want to be seen then by one who was so ready to throw me over, and by the other, who seemed so cold and hard, and was, I felt, going to be a regular tyrant.

"And I'm all alone, and not even a cat to care about me," I said to myself; and, weak and miserable, the tears came into my eyes as I stopped in one of the cross paths.

I started, and dashed away a tear or two that made me feel like a girl, for just then there was a rustle, and looking round, there was one of Old Brownsmith's cats coming along the path with curved back, and tail drooped sidewise, and every hair upon it erect till it looked like a drooping plume.

The cat suddenly rushed at me, stopped short, tore round me, and then ran a little way, and crouched, as if about to make a spring upon me, ending by walking up in a very stately way to rub himself against my leg.

"Why, Ginger, old fellow," I said, "are you come to say good-bye?"

I don't think the cat understood me, but he looked up, blinked, and uttered a pathetic kind of _mew_ that went to my heart, as I stooped down and lifted him up in my arms to hug him to my breast, where he nestled, purring loudly, and inserting his claws gently into my jacket, and tearing them out, as if the act was satisfactory.

He was an ugly great sandy Tom, with stripes down his sides, but he seemed to me just then to be the handsomest cat I had ever seen, and the best friend I had in the world, and I made a vow that I would ask Old Brownsmith to let me have him to take with me, if his brother would allow me to include him in my belongings.

"Will you come with me, Ginger?" I said, stroking him. The cat purred and went on, climbing up to my shoulder, where there was not much room for him, but he set his fore-paws on my shoulder, drove them into my jacket, and let his hind-legs go well down my back before he hooked on there, crouching close to me, and seeming perfectly happy as I walked on wondering where Ike was at work.

I found him at last, busy trenching some ground at the back of Shock's kitchen, as I called the shed where he cooked his potatoes and snails.

As I came up to the old fellow he glanced at me surlily, stopped digging, and began to scrape his big shining spade.

"Hullo!" he said gruffly; and the faint hope that he would be sorry died away.

"Ike," I said, "I'm going away."

"What?" he shouted.

"I'm going to leave here," I said.

"Get out, you discontented warmint!" he cried savagely, "you don't know when you're well off."

"Yes, I do," I said; "but Mr Brownsmith's going to send me away."

"What!" he roared, driving in his spade, and beginning to dig with all his might.

"Mr Brownsmith's going to send me away."

"Old Brownsmith's going to send you away?"

"Yes."

"Why, what have you been a-doin' of?" he cried more fiercely than ever, as he drove his spade into the earth.

"Nothing at all."

"He wouldn't send you away for doing nothing at all," cried Ike, giving an obstinate clod that he had turned up a tremendous blow with his spade, and turning it into soft mould.

"I'm to go to Hampton with Mr Brownsmith's brother," I said, "to learn all about glass-houses."

"What, Old Brownsmith's brother Sol?"

"Yes," I said sadly, as I petted and caressed the cat.

"He's a tartar and a tyrant, that's what he is," said Ike fiercely, and he drove in his spade as if he meant to reach Australia.

"But he understands glass," I said.

"Smash his glass!" growled Ike, digging away like a machine.

"I'm going to-day," I said after a pause, and with all a boy's longing for a sympathetic word or two.

"Oh! are you?" he said sulkily.

"Yes, and I don't know when I shall get over here again."

"Course you don't," growled Ike, smashing another clod. I stood patting the cat, hoping that Ike would stretch out his great rough hand to me to say "Good-bye;" but he went on digging, as if he were very cross.

"I didn't know it till to-day, Ike," I said.

"Ho!" said Ike with a snap, and he bent down to chop an enormous earthworm in two, but instead of doing so he gave it a flip with the corner of his spade, and sent it flying up into a pear-tree, where I saw it hanging across a twig till it writhed itself over, when, one end of its long body being heavier than the other, it dropped back on to the soft earth with a slight pat.

Still Ike did not speak, and all at once I heard Old Brownsmith's voice calling.

"I must go now, Ike," I said, "I'll come back and say 'Good-bye.'"

"And after the way as I've tried to make a man of yer," he said as if talking to his mother earth, which he was chopping so remorselessly.

"It isn't my fault, Ike," I said. "I'll come over and see you again as soon as I can."

"Who said it war your fault?"

"No one, Ike," I said humbly. "Don't be cross with me."

"Who is cross with yer?" cried Ike, cleaning his spade.

"You seemed to be."

"Hah!"

"I will come and see you again as soon as I can," I repeated.

"Nobody don't want you," he growled.

"Grant!"

"Coming, sir," I shouted back, and then I turned to Ike, who dug away as hard as ever he could, without looking at me, and with a sigh I hurried off, feeling that I must have been behaving very ungratefully to him. Then there was a sense as of resentment as I thought of how calmly everybody seemed to take my departure, making me think that I had done nothing to win people's liking, and that I must be a very unpleasant, disagreeable kind of lad, since, with the exception of Mrs Dodley and the cat, nobody seemed to care whether I went away or stayed. _

Read next: Chapter 20. A Cold Start In A New Life

Read previous: Chapter 18. The Gardener Surgeon

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