Burr Junior | Page 5

you'd better tell him. Just you
come to me for some physic, and you'll see how I'll serve you."
"Don't ketch me taking any of your stuff again," cried the big, fat,
sneering-looking fellow. "I'll tell him, and you'll see."
"Go and tell him then," said Mercer contemptuously. "So he is a tailor,
and his father's a tailor. Why, I saw his name on a brass plate in Cork
Street."
"So's your father got his name on a brass plate," sneered Dicksee.
"Well, what of that? My father's a professional gentleman. Here, come
on, Burr, and I'll show you round. Hooray! the sun's come through the
mist. Where's your cap? All right. You'll have to get a square trencher
by next Sunday. This way."
He led me out into the big playground, and turned.
"Ain't a bad house, is it? Some big lord used to live here, and Magglin
says his father says it was empty for years, and it was sold cheap at last
to the Doctor, who only used to have four boys at first."
"Who's Magglin?"
"Ha, ha!" laughed Mercer; "he calls himself a gardener because he
comes here to help dig, but I know: he's a poacher, that's what he is.
You ask Hopley."

"But I don't know Hopley," I said, laughing.
"You soon will. He's General Rye's keeper. I buy birds off him to
stuff."
"What, geese?" I said, as I recalled that my companion spoke about a
goose just before.
"Geese? no. Magpies and jays and hawks. I stuff 'em with tow; I'll
show you how. Old Hopley says Magglin's a rank poacher, and first
time he catches him on their grounds he'll pull him up before his master,
you know. General's a magistrate. But he won't catch him. Magg's too
artful. I say, got any money?"
"Yes, I have some," I said.
"That's right. Don't you spend it. You save up same as I am. Magg's got
a gun I want to buy of him. He says he won't sell it, but I know better.
He will when we offer him enough. I did offer him ten shillings, but he
laughed at me. I say!"
"Yes."
"It's such a beauty. Single barrel, with a flint lock, so that it never wants
no caps, and it comes out of the stock quite easy, and the barrel
unscrews in the middle, and the ramrod too, so that you can put it all in
your pocket, and nobody knows that you're carrying a gun."
"But what's the good of a gun here at school?"
"What? Oh, you don't know because it's all new to you. Why, there are
hares in the fields, and pheasants in the coppices, and partridges in the
hop-gardens, and the rabbits swarm in the hill-sides down toward the
sea."
"But you don't shoot!"
"Not much, because I have no gun, only a pistol, and it don't carry
straight. I did nearly hit a rabbit, though, with it."

"But can you get away shooting?"
"Can I? Should think I can. We have all sorts of fun down here. Can
you fish?"
"I went once," I said, "on the river."
"But you didn't catch anything," said Mercer, grinning.
"No," I said; "I don't think I had a bite."
"Not you. Just you wait a bit, I'll take you fishing. There's the river
where old Rebble goes, and the mill-pond where old Martin gives me
leave, and a big old hammer pond out in the middle of General Rye's
woods where nobody gives me leave, but I go. It's full of great carp and
tench and eels big as boa-constrictors."
"Oh, come!" I said.
"I didn't say big boa-constrictors, did I? there's little ones, I daresay.
Here we are. That's Magglin--didn't know he was here to-day."
He pointed out a rough, shambling-looking young man down the great
kitchen garden into which he had led me. This gentleman was in his
coat, and he was apparently busy doing nothing with a hoe, upon which
he rested himself, and took off a very ragged fur cap to wipe his brow
as we came up, saluting us with a broad grin.
"Hallo, Magg! you here? This is the new boy, Burr."
"Nay," said the man in a harsh, saw-sharpening voice, "think I don't
know better than that? That aren't Master Burr."
"No, not that one. This is the new one. This is Burr junior."
"Oh, I see," said the man. "Mornin', Mr Burr juner. Hope I see you well,
sir?"
"Oh, he's all right," said Mercer. "Give him a penny to buy a screw of

tobacco, Frank."
I gave the required coin, and Mr Magglin spat on it, spun it in the air,
caught it, and placed it in his pocket.
"Thank-ye," he said.
"Got any birds for me?"
"Nay, nary