Sunshine Bill | Page 2

hold gentlemen's horses, till he was getting to be a big lad.
At length a heavy affliction and trial overtook Mrs Sunnyside--Bill's mother. The wherry, with his father and two of his brothers, went off one November morning when it was blowing hard, with a passenger to a ship lying at Spithead. They put their fare all right on board, received payment, and shoved off from the ship. The gale increased, the weather thickened; hour after hour passed away, and the expected ones did not return to their home. Three days afterwards, a pilot vessel brought in an oar, and a board, with the rising sun painted on it.
The Rising Sun was the name of Tom Sunnyside's boat. Such was the only clue to his fate. Neither he, nor his boys, nor his boat, were ever seen again. The widow bowed her head, but she had no time to indulge in grief, for she had still several younger children to support.
She sat at her stall, and did her best to sell her apples. Bill exerted himself more than ever. His two elder brothers were, as has been said, on board men-of-war. The next two surviving children were girls, and could do little to help themselves or their mother. And now, for the first time, the family began to feel what it was to be hungry, and to have no food to put into their mouths. Bill was up early and late, and was always so hard at work that he declared he had no time to be hungry. The truth is, he might always have had plenty of food for himself, but that he thought fit to share every farthing of his gains among his brothers and sisters.
One day he was holding a horse for an officer, who was, he saw by his uniform, a commander in the navy, for Bill could distinguish the rank of naval officers by the gold lace on their coats, and knew at a glance a post captain from a commander, and a commander from a lieutenant, and so on. He especially liked the look of the officer whose horse he was holding; and while he walked it up and down as he had been directed, he thought to himself--
"If I was to go to sea now I should not only get a rig out, but have enough to eat, and be able to send home my pay to mother as soon as I get any."
He had just before been taking a survey of his clothes, which, in spite of all sorts of contrivances, he had no small difficulty in keeping about him. He wished to look tolerably decent, though he had considerable misgivings on that score. He felt very thin, and not so strong as he used to be, which is not surprising, considering the small amount of sustenance he took. The little ones at home were certainly fatter than he was.
When the officer came out of the house he cast a kind look at Bill, who, as was his custom to his superiors, pulled off his battered hat to him.
"I should like to know something about you, my lad," said the officer, as he mounted his horse, in a tone which was as kind as were his looks.
"Yes, sir," answered Bill, pulling a lock of his long, shaggy hair; "I be called Bill Sunnyside, and mother sells apples out at the corner of High Street, there."
"A succinct account of yourself, my lad," said the officer.
"It be true though, sir," said Bill, not understanding what succinct meant. "And, sir, I'd like to go to sea with you."
"Oh! Would you?" said the officer, smiling. "But how do you know that I command a ship?"
"Because you would not otherwise be in uniform," answered Bill, promptly.
"Ay, I see you have your wits about you," remarked the officer.
"It's as well I should, for they be the only things I have got except these duds," answered Bill, giving way to a propensity for humour, which, unknown to himself, he possessed, though he spoke with perfect respect.
The officer laughed, and said--
"Where is your father, boy?"
"He and two brothers were drowned out at Spithead, last autumn," answered Bill.
"Ah! I will have a talk with your mother, one of these days; I think I know her. Be a good boy meantime," said the officer, and he rode away up the street.
Bill looked after him, thinking when "one of these days" would come, and what would come out of the talk.
Several days passed by, and Bill heard nothing of the captain. His clothes became more and more tattered, and, though his mother mended them at night, they were so rotten that they often got torn again the next day. Winter came. Times were indeed hard with him. He grew thinner and thinner. Still, whenever