Burr Junior | Page 6

about that gun, Magg?"
"What about what gun?" said the man softly, as he gave a sharp glance round.
"Get out! You know."
"Whish!" said the man. "Don't you get thinking about no guns. I wouldn't ha' showed it to you if I'd known. Why, if folks knew I had a gun, there'd be no end of bother, so don't you say nothing about it again."
"Well, then, sell it to me. Burr here's going to join me."
The man gave me a quick glance, and shook his head. "I don't sell guns," he said.
"Then will you shoot that woodpecker for me?"
"Nay, I mustn't shoot, they'd say I was a poacher. I'll try and get it for you, though, only it'll be a shilling."
"Can't afford more than ninepence, Magg."
"Ninepence it is then; I don't want to be hard on a young gentleman."
"But if it's all knocked to pieces and covered with blood, I shall only give you sixpence."
"Oh, this'll be all right, sir."
"When shall you shoot it?"
"Ha'n't I told you I aren't going to shoot it?"
"How will you get it, then?"
"Put some salt on its tail," said the man grinning. "Get out! Here, I say, could we catch some tench in the mill-pond to-day?"
"Mebbe yes, mebbe no."
"Well, we're going to try. You have some worms ready for me--a penn'orth."
"Tuppence, sir."
"A penny. Why, you've just had a penny for nothing."
"All right, master. Going?"
"Yes, I'm showing him round," said Mercer. "Come along, Burry, we'll go and see old Lomax now."
He led the way out of the kitchen garden, and round by a field where the Doctor's Alderney cows were grazing, then through a shrubbery to the back of the thatched cottage I had dimly seen as the fly drove by the previous night.
"Left, right! Three quarters half face. As you never were. Left counter-jumper march! Halt stare at pease!"
All this was shouted by Mercer as we approached the cottage door, and had the effect of bringing out a stiff-looking, sturdy, middle-aged man with a short pipe in his mouth, which he removed, carried one hand to his forehead in a salute, and then stood stiff and erect before us, looking sharply at me.
"Mornin', gentlemen," he said.
"Morning," cried Mercer. "'Tention! Parade for introductions. This is Field-Marshal Commander-in-Chief Drill-master and Riding-master Lomax. This is Burr junior, new boy, come to see you. I say, Lom, he's going to be a soldier. His father was a soldier in India. He was killed at what's-its-name?--Chilly winegar."
"Eh?" cried the old soldier. "Glad to see you, sir. Shake hands, and welcome to your new quarters. Come inside."
"No, not now, I'm showing him round. We'll come another time, and bring you some tobacco, and you shall tell us the story about the fight with the Indian rajahs."
"To be sure I will, lads. Where are you going now?"
"Going? Let's see. Oh, I know. We'll go to Polly Hopley's."
"Ah, I suppose so. You boys are always going to Polly Hopley's. Good-bye."
He shook hands with us, then drew himself up and saluted us ceremoniously, and, as I glanced back, I could see him still standing upright in his erect, military fashion.
"You'll like old As-you-were," said Mercer, as we went on, now along the road. "The Doctor got hold of him cheap, and he does all sorts of things. Cuts and nails the trees, and goes messages to the town. He's a splendid chap to get things for you."
"But may we go right away like this?" I said, as I saw we were now far from the grounds.
"Oh yes, to-day. He's very strict at other times, and we have to get leave when we want to go out, but this is free day, and I want to show you everything because you're new. Nobody showed me anything. I had to find it all out, and I was so jolly miserable at first that I made up my mind to run away and go back home."
"But you did not?" I said eagerly, for, though I felt better now in the interest of meeting fresh people and learning something about the place, I could fully appreciate his words.
"No, I didn't," he said thoughtfully. "You see, I knew I must come to school, and if I ran away from this one, if I hadn't been sent back, I should have been sent back to another one, and there would have been whackings at home, and they would have hurt my mother, who always hated to see me have it, though I always deserved it: father said so. Then there would have been whackings here, and they'd have hurt me, so I made up my mind to stay."
"That was wise," I said, laughing.
"Oh, I don't know," he replied, wrinkling up his face; "the cane only hurts you outside, and it soon goes off, but being miserable hurts you inside, and lasts ever