Humphrey Bold | Page 4

good crying after," says Joe with a chuckle, before I
could protest that I was not crying; I always did hate a blubbering boy.
"Now you two boys be off," Joe went on. "I'm going home, and I'll see
to it you don't bait Master Bold no more this side of the Bridge. And
what's more, I tell you this: that if I cotch you two great chaps worriting
the boy again, I'll take and leather you, both of you, and that's flat."
"Try it, bandy-legs," said Vetch with a sneer. "We'll do as we please,
and if you dare to lay a hand on either of us, I'll--I'll--"
"What'll you do, then?" says Joe, who all this while had been spreading
himself in front of me. "What'll you do then? D'you think I care a
farden what you'll do? You'd better behave pretty, Master Vetch, or
'twill be worse for you, my young cockchafer."
At this the two boys backed a little, and Joe, thinking them daunted by
his threatening mien, turned to take down the key of the shop from its
nail on the wall. But he had no sooner left my side than Vetch sprang
forward, and catching me by the arm, gave it a cunning twist that, in
spite of myself, made me shriek with pain. Joe was round in an instant,
and made for my tormentor, who with Cludde ran towards the door.
But in their endeavor to escape they impeded each other: Vetch tripped,
and before he could recover his footing Joe had him in an iron grip, and
began to shake him as I had many times seen our terrier shake a rat he
had caught in the barn.
"Let me go!" yells Cyrus. "Help, Dick! Kick his shins!"

But Cludde, though a big fellow enough, was never over ready to put
his head in chancery. He stood in the street, shaking his fist, and
writhing his face into terrible grimaces at me.
"Let me go!" cries Vetch again.
"You young viper!" says Joe, shaking him still. "You'll misuse the little
lad before my face, will you? And squeal like a pig to be let go, will
you?
"Aha! You shall go," he says with a sudden laugh. "Dash me if 'twere
not made o' purpose."
Joe Punchard, I have forgotten to mention, was short of stature,
standing no more than five feet three. But he was very thick-set and
heavily made, with massive arms and legs, the latter somewhat bowed,
making him appear even shorter than he was. It was these legs of his,
together with his big round head and shock of reddish hair, that
inspired some genius of the school with a couplet which was often
chanted by the boys when they caught sight of Joe in the street. It ran:
O, pi, rho, bandy-legged Joe, Turnip and carrots wherever you go.
But bandy-legged as he was, Joe had the great strength which I have
often observed to accompany that defect of nature. So it was with
exceeding ease he lifted Cyrus Vetch, for all his struggles, with one
hand, and dropped him into a barrel that stood, newly finished, against
the wall--a barrel of such noble height that Vetch quite disappeared
within it. Then, trundling it upon its edge, as draymen do with casks of
beer, he brought it to the street, laid it sidelong, and set it rolling.
Now the Wyle Cop at Shrewsbury, as you may know, is a street that
winds steeply down to the English Bridge over the Severn. Had it been
straight, the bias of the barrel would doubtless have soon carried it to
the side, and Joe Punchard might have risen in course of time to the
status of a master cooper in his native town. But when I went to the
door to see what was happening, there was the barrel in full career,
following the curve of the street, and gathering speed with every yard.

Joe stood with arms akimbo, smiling broadly. Cludde was racing after
the barrel, shouting for someone to stop it.
If I had not already been in such mortal terror of the consequences of
Joe's mad freak, I should have laughed to see the wayfarers as they
skipped out of the course of the runagate, not one of them aware as yet
that it held human contents, nor guessing that the end might be more
than broken staves.
By this time Joe himself had come to a sense of his recklessness. He
gripped me by the hand, and dragged me down the hill at so fierce a
pace that in half a minute all the breath was out of my body. I
wondered what he purposed doing, for the barrel was now out of sight
past the bend, and