Holiday Romance
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Charles Dickens >> Holiday Romance
1. That he should never, under any circumstances, presume to teach
any boy anything any more.
2. That, if taken back to England, he should pass his life in
travelling to find out boys who wanted their exercises done, and
should do their exercises for those boys for nothing, and never say
a word about it.
Drawing the sword from its sheath, Boldheart swore him to these
conditions on its shining blade. The prisoner wept bitterly, and
appeared acutely to feel the errors of his past career.
The captain then ordered his boat's crew to make ready for a
volley, and after firing to re-load quickly. 'And expect a score
or two on ye to go head over heels,' murmured William Boozey; 'for
I'm a-looking at ye.' With those words, the derisive though deadly
William took a good aim.
'Fire!'
The ringing voice of Boldheart was lost in the report of the guns
and the screeching of the savages. Volley after volley awakened
the numerous echoes. Hundreds of savages were killed, hundreds
wounded, and thousands ran howling into the woods. The Latin-
grammar master had a spare night-cap lent him, and a long-tail
coat, which he wore hind side before. He presented a ludicrous
though pitiable appearance, and serve him right.
We now find Capt. Boldheart, with this rescued wretch on board,
standing off for other islands. At one of these, not a cannibal
island, but a pork and vegetable one, he married (only in fun on
his part) the king's daughter. Here he rested some time, receiving
from the natives great quantities of precious stones, gold dust,
elephants' teeth, and sandal wood, and getting very rich. This,
too, though he almost every day made presents of enormous value to
his men.
The ship being at length as full as she could hold of all sorts of
valuable things, Boldheart gave orders to weigh the anchor, and
turn 'The Beauty's' head towards England. These orders were obeyed
with three cheers; and ere the sun went down full many a hornpipe
had been danced on deck by the uncouth though agile William.
We next find Capt. Boldheart about three leagues off Madeira,
surveying through his spy-glass a stranger of suspicious appearance
making sail towards him. On his firing a gun ahead of her to bring
her to, she ran up a flag, which he instantly recognised as the
flag from the mast in the back-garden at home.
Inferring from this, that his father had put to sea to seek his
long-lost son, the captain sent his own boat on board the stranger
to inquire if this was so, and, if so, whether his father's
intentions were strictly honourable. The boat came back with a
present of greens and fresh meat, and reported that the stranger
was 'The Family,' of twelve hundred tons, and had not only the
captain's father on board, but also his mother, with the majority
of his aunts and uncles, and all his cousins. It was further
reported to Boldheart that the whole of these relations had
expressed themselves in a becoming manner, and were anxious to
embrace him and thank him for the glorious credit he had done them.
Boldheart at once invited them to breakfast next morning on board
'The Beauty,' and gave orders for a brilliant ball that should last
all day.
It was in the course of the night that the captain discovered the
hopelessness of reclaiming the Latin-grammar master. That
thankless traitor was found out, as the two ships lay near each
other, communicating with 'The Family' by signals, and offering to
give up Boldheart. He was hanged at the yard-arm the first thing
in the morning, after having it impressively pointed out to him by
Boldheart that this was what spiters came to.
The meeting between the captain and his parents was attended with
tears. His uncles and aunts would have attended their meeting with
tears too, but he wasn't going to stand that. His cousins were
very much astonished by the size of his ship and the discipline of
his men, and were greatly overcome by the splendour of his uniform.
He kindly conducted them round the vessel, and pointed out
everything worthy of notice. He also fired his hundred guns, and
found it amusing to witness their alarm.
The entertainment surpassed everything ever seen on board ship, and
lasted from ten in the morning until seven the next morning. Only
one disagreeable incident occurred. Capt. Boldheart found himself
obliged to put his cousin Tom in irons, for being disrespectful.
On the boy's promising amendment, however, he was humanely released
after a few hours' close confinement.
Boldheart now took his mother down into the great cabin, and asked
after the young lady with whom, it was well known to the world, he
was in love. His mother replied that the object of his affections
was then at school at Margate, for the benefit of sea-bathing (it
was the month of September), but that she feared the young lady's
friends were still opposed to the union. Boldheart at once
resolved, if necessary, to bombard the town.
Taking the command of his ship with this intention, and putting all
but fighting men on board 'The Family,' with orders to that vessel
to keep in company, Boldheart soon anchored in Margate Roads. Here
he went ashore well-armed, and attended by his boat's crew (at
their head the faithful though ferocious William), and demanded to
see the mayor, who came out of his office.
'Dost know the name of yon ship, mayor?' asked Boldheart fiercely.
'No,' said the mayor, rubbing his eyes, which he could scarce
believe, when he saw the goodly vessel riding at anchor.
'She is named "The Beauty,"' said the captain.
'Hah!' exclaimed the mayor, with a start. 'And you, then, are
Capt. Boldheart?'
'The same.'
A pause ensued. The mayor trembled.
'Now, mayor,' said the captain, 'choose! Help me to my bride, or
be bombarded.'
The mayor begged for two hours' grace, in which to make inquiries
respecting the young lady. Boldheart accorded him but one; and
during that one placed William Boozey sentry over him, with a drawn
sword, and instructions to accompany him wherever he went, and to
run him through the body if he showed a sign of playing false.
At the end of the hour the mayor re-appeared more dead than alive,
closely waited on by Boozey more alive than dead.
'Captain,' said the mayor, 'I have ascertained that the young lady
is going to bathe. Even now she waits her turn for a machine. The
tide is low, though rising. I, in one of our town-boats, shall not
be suspected. When she comes forth in her bathing-dress into the
shallow water from behind the hood of the machine, my boat shall
intercept her and prevent her return. Do you the rest.'
'Mayor,' returned Capt. Boldheart, 'thou hast saved thy town.'
The captain then signalled his boat to take him off, and, steering
her himself, ordered her crew to row towards the bathing-ground,
and there to rest upon their oars. All happened as had been
arranged. His lovely bride came forth, the mayor glided in behind
her, she became confused, and had floated out of her depth, when,
with one skilful touch of the rudder and one quivering stroke from
the boat's crew, her adoring Boldheart held her in his strong arms.
There her shrieks of terror were changed to cries of joy.
Before 'The Beauty' could get under way, the hoisting of all the
flags in the town and harbour, and the ringing of all the bells,
announced to the brave Boldheart that he had nothing to fear. He
therefore determined to be married on the spot, and signalled for a
clergyman and clerk, who came off promptly in a sailing-boat named
'The Skylark.' Another great entertainment was then given on board
'The Beauty,' in the midst of which the mayor was called out by a
messenger. He returned with the news that government had sent down
to know whether Capt. Boldheart, in acknowledgment of the great
services he had done his country by being a pirate, would consent
to be made a lieutenant-colonel. For himself he would have spurned
the worthless boon; but his bride wished it, and he consented.
Only one thing further happened before the good ship 'Family' was
dismissed, with rich presents to all on board. It is painful to
record (but such is human nature in some cousins) that Capt.
Boldheart's unmannerly Cousin Tom was actually tied up to receive
three dozen with a rope's end 'for cheekiness and making game,'
when Capt. Boldheart's lady begged for him, and he was spared.
'The Beauty' then refitted, and the captain and his bride departed
for the Indian Ocean to enjoy themselves for evermore.
PART IV. - ROMANCE FROM THE PEN OF MISS NETTIE ASHFORD (Aged half-
past six.)
THERE is a country, which I will show you when I get into maps,
where the children have everything their own way. It is a most
delightful country to live in. The grown-up people are obliged to
obey the children, and are never allowed to sit up to supper,
except on their birthdays. The children order them to make jam and
jelly and marmalade, and tarts and pies and puddings, and all
manner of pastry. If they say they won't, they are put in the
corner till they do. They are sometimes allowed to have some; but
when they have some, they generally have powders given them
afterwards.
One of the inhabitants of this country, a truly sweet young
creature of the name of Mrs. Orange, had the misfortune to be sadly
plagued by her numerous family. Her parents required a great deal
of looking after, and they had connections and companions who were
scarcely ever out of mischief. So Mrs. Orange said to herself, 'I
really cannot be troubled with these torments any longer: I must
put them all to school.'
Mrs. Orange took off her pinafore, and dressed herself very nicely,
and took up her baby, and went out to call upon another lady of the
name of Mrs. Lemon, who kept a preparatory establishment. Mrs.
Orange stood upon the scraper to pull at the bell, and give a ring-
ting-ting.
Mrs. Lemon's neat little housemaid, pulling up her socks as she
came along the passage, answered the ring-ting-ting.
'Good-morning,' said Mrs. Orange. 'Fine day. How do you do? Mrs.
Lemon at home!'
'Yes, ma'am.'
'Will you say Mrs. Orange and baby?'
'Yes, ma'am. Walk in.'
Mrs. Orange's baby was a very fine one, and real wax all over.
Mrs. Lemon's baby was leather and bran. However, when Mrs. Lemon
came into the drawing-room with her baby in her arms, Mrs. Orange
said politely, 'Good-morning. Fine day. How do you do? And how
is little Tootleumboots?'
'Well, she is but poorly. Cutting her teeth, ma'am,' said Mrs.
Lemon.
'O, indeed, ma'am!' said Mrs. Orange. 'No fits, I hope?'
'No, ma'am.'
'How many teeth has she, ma'am?'
'Five, ma'am.'
'My Emilia, ma'am, has eight,' said Mrs. Orange. 'Shall we lay
them on the mantelpiece side by side, while we converse?'
'By all means, ma'am,' said Mrs. Lemon. 'Hem!'
'The first question is, ma'am,' said Mrs. Orange, 'I don't bore
you?'
'Not in the least, ma'am,' said Mrs. Lemon. 'Far from it, I assure
you.'
'Then pray HAVE you,' said Mrs. Orange, - 'HAVE you any vacancies?'
'Yes, ma'am. How many might you require?'
'Why, the truth is, ma'am,' said Mrs. Orange, 'I have come to the
conclusion that my children,' - O, I forgot to say that they call
the grown-up people children in that country! - 'that my children
are getting positively too much for me. Let me see. Two parents,
two intimate friends of theirs, one godfather, two godmothers, and
an aunt. HAVE you as many as eight vacancies?'
'I have just eight, ma'am,' said Mrs. Lemon.
'Most fortunate! Terms moderate, I think?'
'Very moderate, ma'am.'
'Diet good, I believe?'
'Excellent, ma'am.'
'Unlimited?'
'Unlimited.'
'Most satisfactory! Corporal punishment dispensed with?'
'Why, we do occasionally shake,' said Mrs. Lemon, 'and we have
slapped. But only in extreme cases.'
'COULD I, ma'am,' said Mrs. Orange, - 'COULD I see the
establishment?'
'With the greatest of pleasure, ma'am,' said Mrs. Lemon.
Mrs. Lemon took Mrs. Orange into the schoolroom, where there were a
number of pupils. 'Stand up, children,' said Mrs. Lemon; and they
all stood up.
Mrs. Orange whispered to Mrs. Lemon, 'There is a pale, bald child,
with red whiskers, in disgrace. Might I ask what he has done?'
'Come here, White,' said Mrs. Lemon, 'and tell this lady what you
have been doing.'
'Betting on horses,' said White sulkily.
'Are you sorry for it, you naughty child?' said Mrs. Lemon.
'No,' said White. 'Sorry to lose, but shouldn't be sorry to win.'
'There's a vicious boy for you, ma'am,' said Mrs. Lemon. 'Go along
with you, sir. This is Brown, Mrs. Orange. O, a sad case,
Brown's! Never knows when he has had enough. Greedy. How is your
gout, sir?'
'Bad,' said Brown.
'What else can you expect?' said Mrs. Lemon. 'Your stomach is the
size of two. Go and take exercise directly. Mrs. Black, come here
to me. Now, here is a child, Mrs. Orange, ma'am, who is always at
play. She can't be kept at home a single day together; always
gadding about and spoiling her clothes. Play, play, play, play,
from morning to night, and to morning again. How can she expect to
improve?'
'Don't expect to improve,' sulked Mrs. Black. 'Don't want to.'
'There is a specimen of her temper, ma'am,' said Mrs. Lemon. 'To
see her when she is tearing about, neglecting everything else, you
would suppose her to be at least good-humoured. But bless you!
ma'am, she is as pert and flouncing a minx as ever you met with in
all your days!'
'You must have a great deal of trouble with them, ma'am,' said Mrs.
Orange.
'Ah, I have, indeed, ma'am!' said Mrs. Lemon. 'What with their
tempers, what with their quarrels, what with their never knowing
what's good for them, and what with their always wanting to
domineer, deliver me from these unreasonable children!'
'Well, I wish you good-morning, ma'am,' said Mrs. Orange.
'Well, I wish you good-morning, ma'am,' said Mrs. Lemon.
So Mrs. Orange took up her baby and went home, and told the family
that plagued her so that they were all going to be sent to school.
They said they didn't want to go to school; but she packed up their
boxes, and packed them off.
'O dear me, dear me! Rest and be thankful!' said Mrs. Orange,
throwing herself back in her little arm-chair. 'Those troublesome
troubles are got rid of, please the pigs!'
Just then another lady, named Mrs. Alicumpaine, came calling at the
street-door with a ring-ting-ting.
'My dear Mrs. Alicumpaine,' said Mrs. Orange, 'how do you do? Pray
stay to dinner. We have but a simple joint of sweet-stuff,
followed by a plain dish of bread and treacle; but, if you will
take us as you find us, it will be SO kind!'
'Don't mention it,' said Mrs. Alicumpaine. 'I shall be too glad.
But what do you think I have come for, ma'am? Guess, ma'am.'
'I really cannot guess, ma'am,' said Mrs. Orange.
'Why, I am going to have a small juvenile party to-night,' said
Mrs. Alicumpaine; 'and if you and Mr. Orange and baby would but
join us, we should be complete.'
'More than charmed, I am sure!' said Mrs. Orange.
'So kind of you!' said Mrs. Alicumpaine. 'But I hope the children
won't bore you?'
'Dear things! Not at all,' said Mrs. Orange. 'I dote upon them.'
Mr. Orange here came home from the city; and he came, too, with a
ring-ting-ting.
'James love,' said Mrs. Orange, 'you look tired. What has been
doing in the city to-day?'
'Trap, bat, and ball, my dear,' said Mr. Orange, 'and it knocks a
man up.'
'That dreadfully anxious city, ma'am,' said Mrs. Orange to Mrs.
Alicumpaine; 'so wearing, is it not?'
'O, so trying!' said Mrs. Alicumpaine. 'John has lately been
speculating in the peg-top ring; and I often say to him at night,
"John, IS the result worth the wear and tear?"'
Dinner was ready by this time: so they sat down to dinner; and
while Mr. Orange carved the joint of sweet-stuff, he said, 'It's a
poor heart that never rejoices. Jane, go down to the cellar, and
fetch a bottle of the Upest ginger-beer.'
At tea-time, Mr. and Mrs. Orange, and baby, and Mrs. Alicumpaine
went off to Mrs. Alicumpaine's house. The children had not come
yet; but the ball-room was ready for them, decorated with paper
flowers.
'How very sweet!' said Mrs. Orange. 'The dear things! How pleased
they will be!'
'I don't care for children myself,' said Mr. Orange, gaping.
'Not for girls?' said Mrs. Alicumpaine. 'Come! you care for
girls?'
Mr. Orange shook his head, and gaped again. 'Frivolous and vain,
ma'am.'
'My dear James,' cried Mrs. Orange, who had been peeping about, 'do
look here. Here's the supper for the darlings, ready laid in the
room behind the folding-doors. Here's their little pickled salmon,
I do declare! And here's their little salad, and their little
roast beef and fowls, and their little pastry, and their wee, wee,
wee champagne!'
'Yes, I thought it best, ma'am,' said Mrs. Alicumpaine, 'that they
should have their supper by themselves. Our table is in the corner
here, where the gentlemen can have their wineglass of negus, and
their egg-sandwich, and their quiet game at beggar-my-neighbour,
and look on. As for us, ma'am, we shall have quite enough to do to
manage the company.'
'O, indeed, you may say so! Quite enough, ma'am,' said Mrs.
Orange.
The company began to come. The first of them was a stout boy, with
a white top-knot and spectacles. The housemaid brought him in and
said, 'Compliments, and at what time was he to be fetched!' Mrs.
Alicumpaine said, 'Not a moment later than ten. How do you do,
sir? Go and sit down.' Then a number of other children came; boys
by themselves, and girls by themselves, and boys and girls
together. They didn't behave at all well. Some of them looked
through quizzing-glasses at others, and said, 'Who are those?
Don't know them.' Some of them looked through quizzing-glasses at
others, and said, 'How do?' Some of them had cups of tea or coffee
handed to them by others, and said, 'Thanks; much!' A good many
boys stood about, and felt their shirt-collars. Four tiresome fat
boys WOULD stand in the doorway, and talk about the newspapers,
till Mrs. Alicumpaine went to them and said, 'My dears, I really
cannot allow you to prevent people from coming in. I shall be
truly sorry to do it; but, if you put yourself in everybody's way,
I must positively send you home.' One boy, with a beard and a
large white waistcoat, who stood straddling on the hearth-rug
warming his coat-tails, WAS sent home. 'Highly incorrect, my
dear,' said Mrs. Alicumpaine, handing him out of the room, 'and I
cannot permit it.'
There was a children's band, - harp, cornet, and piano, - and Mrs.
Alicumpaine and Mrs. Orange bustled among the children to persuade
them to take partners and dance. But they were so obstinate! For
quite a long time they would not be persuaded to take partners and
dance. Most of the boys said, 'Thanks; much! But not at present.'
And most of the rest of the boys said, 'Thanks; much! But never
do.'
'O, these children are very wearing!' said Mrs. Alicumpaine to Mrs.
Orange.
'Dear things! I dote upon them; but they ARE wearing,' said Mrs.
Orange to Mrs. Alicumpaine.
At last they did begin in a slow and melancholy way to slide about
to the music; though even then they wouldn't mind what they were
told, but would have this partner, and wouldn't have that partner,
and showed temper about it. And they wouldn't smile, - no, not on
any account they wouldn't; but, when the music stopped, went round
and round the room in dismal twos, as if everybody else was dead.
'O, it's very hard indeed to get these vexing children to be
entertained!' said Mrs. Alicumpaine to Mrs. Orange.
'I dote upon the darlings; but it is hard,' said Mrs. Orange to
Mrs. Alicumpaine.
They were trying children, that's the truth. First, they wouldn't
sing when they were asked; and then, when everybody fully believed
they wouldn't, they would. 'If you serve us so any more, my love,'
said Mrs. Alicumpaine to a tall child, with a good deal of white
back, in mauve silk trimmed with lace, 'it will be my painful
privilege to offer you a bed, and to send you to it immediately.'
The girls were so ridiculously dressed, too, that they were in rags
before supper. How could the boys help treading on their trains?
And yet when their trains were trodden on, they often showed temper
again, and looked as black, they did! However, they all seemed to
be pleased when Mrs. Alicumpaine said, 'Supper is ready, children!'
And they went crowding and pushing in, as if they had had dry bread
for dinner.
'How are the children getting on?' said Mr. Orange to Mrs. Orange,
when Mrs. Orange came to look after baby. Mrs. Orange had left
baby on a shelf near Mr. Orange while he played at beggar-my-
neighbour, and had asked him to keep his eye upon her now and then.
'Most charmingly, my dear!' said Mrs. Orange. 'So droll to see
their little flirtations and jealousies! Do come and look!'
'Much obliged to you, my dear,' said Mr. Orange; 'but I don't care
about children myself.'
So Mrs. Orange, having seen that baby was safe, went back without
Mr. Orange to the room where the children were having supper.
'What are they doing now?' said Mrs. Orange to Mrs. Alicumpaine.
'They are making speeches, and playing at parliament,' said Mrs.
Alicumpaine to Mrs. Orange.
On hearing this, Mrs. Orange set off once more back again to Mr.
Orange, and said, 'James dear, do come. The children are playing
at parliament.'
'Thank you, my dear,' said Mr. Orange, 'but I don't care about
parliament myself.'
So Mrs. Orange went once again without Mr. Orange to the room where
the children were having supper, to see them playing at parliament.
And she found some of the boys crying, 'Hear, hear, hear!' while
other boys cried 'No, no!' and others, 'Question!' 'Spoke!' and all
sorts of nonsense that ever you heard. Then one of those tiresome
fat boys who had stopped the doorway told them he was on his legs
(as if they couldn't see that he wasn't on his head, or on his
anything else) to explain, and that, with the permission of his
honourable friend, if he would allow him to call him so (another
tiresome boy bowed), he would proceed to explain. Then he went on
for a long time in a sing-song (whatever he meant), did this
troublesome fat boy, about that he held in his hand a glass; and
about that he had come down to that house that night to discharge
what he would call a public duty; and about that, on the present
occasion, he would lay his hand (his other hand) upon his heart,
and would tell honourable gentlemen that he was about to open the
door to general approval. Then he opened the door by saying, 'To
our hostess!' and everybody else said 'To our hostess!' and then
there were cheers. Then another tiresome boy started up in sing-
song, and then half a dozen noisy and nonsensical boys at once.
But at last Mrs. Alicumpaine said, 'I cannot have this din. Now,
children, you have played at parliament very nicely; but parliament
gets tiresome after a little while, and it's time you left off, for
you will soon be fetched.'
After another dance (with more tearing to rags than before supper),
they began to be fetched; and you will be very glad to be told that
the tiresome fat boy who had been on his legs was walked off first
without any ceremony. When they were all gone, poor Mrs.
Alicumpaine dropped upon a sofa, and said to Mrs. Orange, 'These
children will be the death of me at last, ma'am, - they will
indeed!'
'I quite adore them, ma'am,' said Mrs. Orange; 'but they DO want
variety.'
Mr. Orange got his hat, and Mrs. Orange got her bonnet and her
baby, and they set out to walk home. They had to pass Mrs. Lemon's
preparatory establishment on their way.
'I wonder, James dear,' said Mrs. Orange, looking up at the window,
'whether the precious children are asleep!'
'I don't care much whether they are or not, myself,' said Mr.
Orange.
'James dear!'
'You dote upon them, you know,' said Mr. Orange. 'That's another
thing.'
'I do,' said Mrs. Orange rapturously. 'O, I DO!'
'I don't,' said Mr. Orange.
'But I was thinking, James love,' said Mrs. Orange, pressing his
arm, 'whether our dear, good, kind Mrs. Lemon would like them to
stay the holidays with her.'
'If she was paid for it, I daresay she would,' said Mr. Orange.
'I adore them, James,' said Mrs. Orange, 'but SUPPOSE we pay her, then!'
This was what brought that country to such perfection, and made it
such a delightful place to live in. The grown-up people (that
would be in other countries) soon left off being allowed any
holidays after Mr. and Mrs. Orange tried the experiment; and the
children (that would be in other countries) kept them at school as
long as ever they lived, and made them do whatever they were told.