Hard Cash | Page 8

moment.
Two letters; one from Calcutta, one from Oxford.
They came quietly in upon one salver, and were opened and read with
pleasurable interest, but without surprise, or misgiving; and without the
slightest foretaste of their grave amid singular consequences.
Rivers deep and broad start from such little springs.
David's letter was of unusual length for him. The main topics were, first,
the date and manner of his return home. His ship, a very old one, had
been condemned in port: and he was to sail a fine new teak-built vessel,
the _Agra,_ as far as the Cape; where her captain, just recovered from a
severe illness, would come on board, and convey her and him to
England. In future, Dodd was to command one of the Company's large
steamers to Alexandria and back.
"It is rather a come-down for a sailor, to go straight ahead like a
wheelbarrow in all weathers with a steam-pot and a crew of

coalheavers But then I shall not be parted from my sweetheart such
long dreary spells as I have been thus twenty years, my dear love: so is
it for me to complain?"
The second topic was pecuniary; the transfer of their savings from India,
where interest was higher than at home, but the capital not so secure.
And the third was ardent and tender expressions of affection for the
wife and children he adored. These effusions of the heart had no
separate place, except in my somewhat arbitrary analysis of the honest
sailor's letter; they were the under current. Mrs. Dodd read part of it out
to Julia; in fact all but the money matter: that concerned the heads of
the family more immediately; and Cash was a topic her daughter did
not understand, nor care about. And when Mrs. Dodd had read it with
glistening eyes, she kissed it tenderly, and read it all over again to
herself, and then put it into her bosom as naively as a milkmaid in love.
Edward's letter was short enough, and Mrs. Dodd allowed Julia to read
it to her, which she did with panting breath, and glowing cheeks, and a
running fire of comments.
"'Dear Mamma, I hope you and Ju are quite well----'"
"Ju," murmured Mrs. Dodd plaintively.
"'And that there is good news about papa coming home. As for me, I
have plenty on my hands just now; all this term I have been ('training'
scratched out, and another word put in: C -- R -- oh, I know)
'cramming.'"
"'Cramming,' love?"
"Yes, that is the Oxfordish for studying."
"'--For smalls.'"
Mrs. Dodd contrived to sigh interrogatively. Julia, who understood her
every accent, reminded her that "smalls" was the new word for "little
go."
"'--Cramming for smalls; and now I am in two races at Henley, and that
rather puts the snaffie on reading and gooseberry pie' (Goodness me),
'and adds to my chance of being ploughed for smalls.'"
"What does it all mean?" inquired mamma, "'gooseberry pie'? and 'the
snaffle'? and 'ploughed' ?"
"Well, the gooseberry pie is really too deep for me: but 'ploughed' is the
new Oxfordish for 'plucked.' O mamma, have you forgotten that?
'Plucked' was vulgar, so now they are 'ploughed.' 'For smalls; but I hope

I shall not be, to vex you and Puss.'"
"Heaven forbid he should be so disgraced! But what has the cat to do
with it?"
"Nothing on earth. Puss? that is me. How dare he? Did I not forbid all
these nicknames and all this Oxfordish, by proclamation, last Long."
"Last Long?"
"Hem! last protracted vacation."
"'--Dear mamma, sometimes I cannot help being down in the mouth,'
(why, it is a string of pearls) 'to think you have not got a son like
Hardie.'" At this unfortunate reflection it was Julia's turn to suffer. She
deposited the letter in her lap, and fired up. "Now, have not I cause to
hate, and scorn, and despise le petit Hardie?"
"Julia!"
"I mean to dislike with propriety, and gently to abominate-- Mr. Hardie,
junior."
"'--Dear mamma, do come to Henley on the tenth, you and Ju. The
university eights will not be there, but the head boats of the Oxford and
Cambridge river will; and the Oxford head boat is Exeter, you know;
and I pull Six.'"
"Then I am truly sorry to hear it; my poor boy will overtask his strength;
and how unfair of the other young gentlemen; it seems ungenerous;
unreasonable; my poor child against so many."
"'--And I am entered for the sculls as well, and if you and "the
Impetuosity"' (Vengeance!) 'were looking on from the bank, I do think
I should be lucky this time. Henley is a long way from Barkington, but
it is a pretty place; all the ladies admire it, and like to see