just under his window. Sometimes the theatre
would stay a week or two after the fair was over, until even the boy
grew tired of the naphtha-lamps and the voices of the tragedians, and
the cornet wheezing under canvas, and began to long for the time when
they would leave the square open for the boys to come and play at
prisoners' bars in the dusk.
One evening, a fortnight before Whitsun Fair, he had taken his book to
the open window, and sat there with it. Every night he had to learn a
text which he repeated next morning to his mother. Already, across the
square, the Mayoralty house was brightly lit, and the bandsmen had
begun to arrange their stands and music before it; for the Colonel was
receiving company. Every now and then a carriage arrived, and set
down its guests.
After a while Taffy looked up and saw two persons crossing the
square--an old man and a little girl. He recognised them, having seen
them together in church the day before, when his father had preached
the sermon. The old man wore a rusty silk hat, cocked a little to one
side, a high stock collar, black cutaway coat, breeches and gaiters of
grey cord. He stooped as he walked, with his hands behind him and his
walking-stick dangling like a tail--a very positive old fellow, to look at.
The girl's face Taffy could not see; it was hidden by the brim of her
Leghorn hat.
The pair passed close under the window. Taffy heard a knock at the
door below, and ran to the head of the stairs. Down in the passage his
mother was talking to the old man, who turned to the girl and told her
to wait outside.
"But let her come in and sit down," urged Humility.
"No, ma'am; I know my mind. I want one hour with your husband."
Taffy heard the door shut, and went back to his window-seat.
The little girl had climbed the cannon opposite, and sat there dangling
her feet and eyeing the house.
"Boy," said she, "what a funny window-seat you've got! I can see your
legs under it."
"That's because the window reaches down to the floor, and the bench is
fixed across by the transom here."
"What's your name?"
"Theophilus; but they call me Taffy."
"Why?"
"Father says it's an imperfect example of Grimm's Law."
"Oh! Then, I suppose you're quite the gentleman? My name's Honoria."
"Is that your father downstairs?"
"Bless the boy! What age do you take me for? He's my grandfather.
He's asking your father about his soul. He wants to be saved, and says
if he's not saved before next Lady-day, he'll know the reason why.
What are you doing up there?"
"Reading."
"Reading what?"
"The Bible."
"But, I say, can you really?"
"You listen." Taffy rested the big Bible on the window-frame; it just
had room to lie open between the two mullions--"Now when they had
gone throughout Phrygia and Galatia, and were forbidden of the Holy
Ghost to preach the word in Asia, after they were come to Mysia they
assayed to go into Bithynia; but the Spirit suffered them not. And they,
passing by Mysia, came down to Troas. And a vision appeared to Paul
in the night. . . ."
"I don't wonder at it. Did you ever have the whooping-cough?"
"Not yet."
"I've had it all the winter. That's why I'm not allowed in to play with
you. Listen!"
She coughed twice, and wound up with a terrific whoop.
"Now, if you'd only put on your nightshirt and preach, I'd be the
congregation and interrupt you with coughing."
"Very well," said Taffy, "let's do it."
"No; you didn't suggest it. I hate boys who have to be told."
Taffy was huffed, and pretended to return to his book. By-and-by she
called up to him:
"Tell me, what's written on this gun of yours?"
"Sevastopol--that's a Russian town. The English took it by storm."
"What! the soldiers over there?"
"No, they're only bandsmen; and they're too young. But I expect the
Colonel was there. He's upstairs in the Mayoralty, dining. He's quite an
old man, but I've heard father say he was as brave as a lion when the
fighting happened."
The girl climbed off the gun.
"I'm going to have a look at him," she said; and turning her back on
Taffy, she sauntered off across the square, just as the band struck up the
first note of the overture from Semiramide. A waltz of Strauss followed,
and then came a cornet solo by the bandmaster, and a medley of old
English tunes. To all of these Taffy listened. It had fallen too dark to
read, and the boy was always sensitive to music. Often when he
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