The Golden Age
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Kenneth Grahame >> The Golden Age
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They laughed again, and my friend suggested I should go down to
the pond and look at the gold-fish, while they went for a stroll.
I was sleepy, and assented; but before they left me, the grown-up
man put two half-crowns in my hand, for the purpose, he
explained, of treating the other water-babies. I was so touched
by this crowning mark of friendship that I nearly cried; and
thought much more of his generosity than of the fact that the
Princess; ere she moved away, stooped down and kissed me.
I watched them disappear down the path--how naturally arms seem
to go round waists in Fairyland!--and then, my cheek on the cool
marble, lulled by the trickle of water, I slipped into dreamland
out of real and magic world alike. When I woke, the sun had
gone in, a chill wind set all the leaves a-whispering, and the
peacock on the lawn was harshly calling up the rain. A wild
unreasoning panic possessed me, and I sped out of the garden like
a guilty thing, wriggled through the rabbit-run, and threaded my
doubtful way homewards, hounded by nameless terrors. The half-
crowns happily remained solid and real to the touch; but could I
hope to bear such treasure safely through the brigand-haunted
wood? It was a dirty, weary little object that entered its home,
at nightfall, by the unassuming aid of the scullery-window: and
only to be sent tealess to bed seemed infinite mercy to him.
Officially tealess, that is; for, as was usual after such
escapades, a sympathetic housemaid, coming delicately by
backstairs, stayed him with chunks of cold pudding and
condolence, till his small skin was tight as any drum. Then,
nature asserting herself, I passed into the comforting kingdom of
sleep, where, a golden carp of fattest build, I oared it in
translucent waters with a new half-crown snug under right fin and
left; and thrust up a nose through water-lily leaves to be kissed
by a rose-flushed Princess.
SAWDUST AND SIN
A belt of rhododendrons grew close down to one side of our pond;
and along the edge of it many things flourished rankly. If you
crept through the undergrowth and crouched by the water's rim, it
was easy--if your imagination were in healthy working order--to
transport yourself in a trice to the heart of a tropical forest.
Overhead the monkeys chattered, parrots flashed from bough to
bough, strange large blossoms shone around you, and the push and
rustle of great beasts moving unseen thrilled you deliciously.
And if you lay down with your nose an inch or two from the water,
it was not long ere the old sense of proportion vanished clean
away. The glittering insects that darted to and fro on its
surface became sea-monsters dire, the gnats that hung above them
swelled to albatrosses, and the pond itself stretched out into a
vast inland sea, whereon a navy might ride secure, and whence
at any moment the hairy scalp of a sea serpent might be seen to
emerge.
It is impossible, however, to play at tropical forests properly,
when homely accents of the human voice intrude; and all my hopes
of seeing a tiger seized by a crocodile while drinking (vide
picture-books, passim) vanished abruptly, and earth resumed her
old dimensions, when the sound of Charlotte's prattle somewhere
hard by broke in on my primeval seclusion. Looking out from the
bushes, I saw her trotting towards an open space of lawn the
other side the pond, chattering to herself in her accustomed
fashion, a doll tucked under either arm, and her brow knit with
care. Propping up her double burden against a friendly stump,
she sat down in front of them, as full of worry and anxiety as a
Chancellor on a Budget night.
Her victims, who stared resignedly in front of them, were
recognisable as Jerry and Rosa. Jerry hailed from far Japan: his
hair was straight and black; his one garment cotton, of a simple
blue; and his reputation was distinctly bad. Jerome was his
proper name, from his supposed likeness to the holy man who hung
in a print on the staircase; though a shaven crown was the
only thing in common 'twixt Western saint and Eastern sinner.
Rosa was typical British, from her flaxen poll to the stout
calves she displayed so liberally, and in character she was of
the blameless order of those who have not yet been found out.
I suspected Jerry from the first; there was a latent devilry in
his slant eyes as he sat there moodily, and knowing what he was
capable of I scented trouble in store for Charlotte. Rosa I was
not so sure about; she sat demurely and upright, and looked far
away into the tree-tops in a visionary, world-forgetting sort of
way; yet the prim purse of her mouth was somewhat overdone, and
her eyes glittered unnaturally.
"Now, I'm going to begin where I left off," said Charlotte,
regardless of stops, and thumping the turf with her fist
excitedly: "and you must pay attention, 'cos this is a treat, to
have a story told you before you're put to bed. Well, so the
White Rabbit scuttled off down the passage and Alice hoped he'd
come back 'cos he had a waistcoat on and her flamingo flew up a
tree--but we haven't got to that part yet--you must wait a
minute, and--where had I got to?"
Jerry only remained passive until Charlotte had got well under
way, and then began to heel over quietly in Rosa's direction.
His head fell on her plump shoulder, causing her to start
nervously.
Charlotte seized and shook him with vigour, "O Jerry," she cried
piteously, "if you're not going to be good, how ever shall I tell
you my story?"
Jerry's face was injured innocence itself. "Blame if you like,
Madam," he seemed to say, "the eternal laws of gravitation, but
not a helpless puppet, who is also an orphan and a stranger in
the land."
"Now we'll go on," began Charlotte once more. "So she got into
the garden at last--I've left out a lot, but you won't care, I'll
tell you some other time--and they were all playing croquet, and
that's where the flamingo comes in, and the Queen shouted out,
`Off with her head!'"
At this point Jerry collapsed forward, suddenly and completely,
his bald pate between his knees. Charlotte was not very angry
this time. The sudden development of tragedy in the story had
evidently been too much for the poor fellow. She straightened
him out, wiped his nose, and, after trying him in various
positions, to which he refused to adapt himself, she propped him
against the shoulder of the (apparently) unconscious Rosa. Then
my eyes were opened, and the full measure of Jerry's infamy
became apparent. This, then, was what he had been playing up
for. The fellow had designs. I resolved to keep him under close
observation.
"If you'd been in the garden," went on Charlotte, reproachfully,
"and flopped down like that when the Queen said `Off with his
head!' she'd have offed with your head; but Alice wasn't that
sort of girl at all. She just said, `I'm not afraid of you,
you're nothing but a pack of cards'--oh, dear! I've got to the
end already, and I hadn't begun hardly! I never can make my
stories last out! Never mind, I'll tell you another one."
Jerry didn't seem to care, now he had gained his end, whether the
stories lasted out or not. He was nestling against Rosa's plump
form with a look of satisfaction that was simply idiotic; and one
arm had disappeared from view--was it round her waist? Rosa's
natural blush seemed deeper than usual, her head inclined shyly--
it must have been round her waist.
"If it wasn't so near your bedtime," continued Charlotte,
reflectively, "I'd tell you a nice story with a bogy in it. But
you'd be frightened, and you'd dream of bogies all night. So
I'll tell you one about a White Bear, only you mustn't scream
when the bear says `Wow,' like I used to, 'cos he's a good bear
really--"
Here Rosa fell flat on her back in the deadest of faints. Her
limbs were rigid, her eyes glassy; what had Jerry been doing? It
must have been something very bad, for her to take on like that.
I scrutinised him carefully, while Charlotte ran to comfort the
damsel. He appeared to be whistling a tune and regarding the
scenery. If I only possessed Jerry's command of feature, I
thought to myself, half regretfully, I would never be found out
in anything.
"It's all your fault, Jerry," said Charlotte, reproachfully, when
the lady had been restored to consciousness: "Rosa's as good as
gold, except when you make her wicked. I'd put you in the
corner, only a stump hasn't got a corner--wonder why that is?
Thought everything had corners. Never mind, you'll have to sit
with your face to the wall--SO. Now you can sulk if you
like!"
Jerry seemed to hesitate a moment between the bliss of indulgence
in sulks with a sense of injury, and the imperious summons of
beauty waiting to be wooed at his elbow; then, carried away by
his passion, he fell sideways across Rosa's lap. One arm stuck
stiffly upwards, as in passionate protestation; his amorous
countenance was full of entreaty. Rosa hesitated--wavered--and
yielded, crushing his slight frame under the weight of her full-
bodied surrender.
Charlotte had stood a good deal, but it was possible to abuse
even her patience. Snatching Jerry from his lawless embraces,
she reversed him across her knee, and then--the outrage offered
to the whole superior sex in Jerry's hapless person was too
painful to witness; but though I turned my head away, the sound
of brisk slaps continued to reach my tingling ears. When I
looked again, Jerry was sitting up as before; his garment,
somewhat crumpled, was restored to its original position; but his
pallid countenance was set hard. Knowing as I did, only too
well, what a volcano of passion and shame must be seething under
that impassive exterior, for the moment I felt sorry for him.
Rosa's face was still buried in her frock; it might have been
shame, it might have been grief for Jerry's sufferings. But the
callous Japanese never even looked her way. His heart was
exceeding bitter within him. In merely following up his natural
impulses he had run his head against convention, and learnt how
hard a thing it was; and the sunshiny world was all black to him.
Even Charlotte softened somewhat at the sight of his rigid
misery. "If you'll say you're sorry. Jerome," she said, "I'll
say I'm sorry, too."
Jerry only dropped his shoulders against the stump and stared out
in the direction of his dear native Japan, where love was no sin,
and smacking had not been introduced. Why had he ever left it?
He would go back to-morrow--and yet there were obstacles: another
grievance. Nature, in endowing Jerry with every grace of form
and feature, along with a sensitive soul, had somehow forgotten
the gift of locomotion.
There was a crackling in the bushes behind me, with sharp short
pants as of a small steam-engine, and Rollo, the black retriever,
just released from his chain by some friendly hand, burst
through the underwood, seeking congenial company. I joyfully
hailed him to stop and be a panther; but he sped away round the
pond, upset Charlotte with a boisterous caress, and seizing Jerry
by the middle, disappeared with him down the drive. Charlotte
raved, panting behind the swift-footed avenger of crime; Rosa lay
dishevelled, bereft of consciousness; Jerry himself spread
helpless arms to heaven, and I almost thought I heard a cry for
mercy, a tardy promise of amendment; but it was too late. The
Black Man had got Jerry at last; and though the tear of
sensibility might moisten the eye, no one who really knew him
could deny the justice of his fate.
"YOUNG ADAM CUPID"
NO one would have suspected Edward of being in love, but that
after breakfast, with an over-acted carelessness, "Anybody who
likes," he said, "can feed my rabbits," and he disappeared, with
a jauntiness that deceived nobody, in the direction of the
orchard. Now, kingdoms might totter and reel, and convulsions
change the map of Europe; but the iron unwritten law prevailed,
that each boy severely fed his own rabbits. There was good
ground, then, for suspicion and alarm; and while the lettuce-
leaves were being drawn through the wires, Harold and I conferred
seriously on the situation.
It may be thought that the affair was none of our business; and
indeed we cared little as individuals. We were only concerned as
members of a corporation, for each of whom the mental or physical
ailment of one of his fellows might have far-reaching effects.
It was thought best that Harold, as least open to suspicion of
motive, should be despatched to probe and peer. His instructions
were, to proceed by a report on the health of our rabbits in
particular; to glide gently into a discussion on rabbits in
general, their customs, practices, and vices; to pass thence, by
a natural transition, to the female sex, the inherent flaws in
its composition, and the reasons for regarding it (speaking
broadly) as dirt. He was especially to be very diplomatic, and
then to return and report progress. He departed on his mission
gaily; but his absence was short, and his return, discomfited and
in tears, seemed to betoken some want of parts for diplomacy. He
had found Edward, it appeared, pacing the orchard, with the sort
of set smile that mountebanks wear in their precarious antics,
fixed painfully on his face, as with pins. Harold had opened
well, on the rabbit subject, but, with a fatal confusion between
the abstract and the concrete, had then gone on to remark that
Edward's lop-eared doe, with her long hindlegs and contemptuous
twitch of the nose, always reminded him of Sabina Larkin (a nine-
year-old damsel, child of a neighbouring farmer): at which point
Edward, it would seem, had turned upon and savagely maltreated
him, twisting his arm and punching him in the short ribs. So
that Harold returned to the rabbit-hutches preceded by long-drawn
wails: anon wishing, with sobs, that he were a man, to kick his
love-lorn brother: anon lamenting that ever he had been born.
I was not big enough to stand up to Edward personally, so I had
to console the sufferer by allowing him to grease the wheels of
the donkey-cart--a luscious treat that had been specially
reserved for me, a week past, by the gardener's boy, for putting
in a good word on his behalf with the new kitchen-maid. Harold
was soon all smiles and grease; and I was not, on the whole,
dissatisfied with the significant hint that had been gained as to
the fons at origo mali.
Fortunately, means were at hand for resolving any doubts on the
subject, since the morning was Sunday, and already the bells were
ringing for church. Lest the connexion may not be evident at
first sight, I should explain that the gloomy period of church-
time, with its enforced inaction and its lack of real interest--
passed, too, within sight of all that the village held of
fairest--was just the one when a young man's fancies lightly
turned to thoughts of love. For such trifling the rest of the
week afforded no leisure; but in church--well, there was really
nothing else to do! True, naughts-and-crosses might be indulged
in on fly-leaves of prayer-books while the Litany dragged its
slow length along; but what balm or what solace could be found
for the sermon? Naturally the eye, wandering here and there
among the serried ranks, made bold, untrammelled choice among our
fair fellow-supplicants. It was in this way that, some months
earlier, under the exceptional strain of the Athanasian Creed, my
roving fancy had settled upon the baker's wife as a fit object
for a life-long devotion. Her riper charms had conquered a heart
which none of her be-muslined, tittering juniors had been able to
subdue; and that she was already wedded had never occurred to me
as any bar to my affection. Edward's general demeanour, then,
during morning service, was safe to convict him; but there was
also a special test for the particular case. It happened that we
sat in a transept, and, the Larkins being behind us, Edward's
only chance of feasting on Sabina's charms was in the all-too
fleeting interval when we swung round eastwards. I was not
mistaken. During the singing of the Benedictus the impatient one
made several false starts, and at last he slewed fairly round
before "As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be"
was half finished. The evidence was conclusive: a court of law
could have desired no better.
The fact being patent, the next thing was to grapple with it; and
my mind was fully occupied during the sermon. There was really
nothing unfair or unbrotherly in my attitude. A philosophic
affection such as mine own, which clashed with nothing, was (I
held) permissible; but the volcanic passions in which Edward
indulged about once a quarter were a serious interference with
business. To make matters worse, next week there was a circus
coming to the neighbourhood, to which we had all been strictly
forbidden to go; and without Edward no visit in contempt of law
and orders could be successfully brought off. I had sounded him
as to the circus on our way to church, and he had replied briefly
that the very thought of a clown made him sick. Morbidity could
no further go. But the sermon came to an end without any line of
conduct having suggested itself; and I walked home in some
depression, feeling sadly that Venus was in the ascendant and in
direful opposition, while Auriga--the circus star--drooped
declinant, perilously near the horizon.
By the irony of fate, Aunt Eliza, of all people, turned out to be
the Dea ex machina: which thing fell out in this wise. It was
that lady's obnoxious practice to issue forth, of a Sunday
afternoon, on a visit of state to such farmers and cottagers as
dwelt at hand; on which occasion she was wont to hale a reluctant
boy along with her, from the mixed motives of propriety and his
soul's health. Much cudgelling of brains, I suppose, had on that
particular day made me torpid and unwary. Anyhow, when a victim
came to be sought for, I fell an easy prey, while the others fled
scatheless and whooping. Our first visit was to the Larkins.
Here ceremonial might be viewed in its finest flower, and we
conducted ourselves, like Queen Elizabeth when she trod the
measure, "high and disposedly." In the low, oak-panelled
parlour, cake and currant wine were set forth, and after
courtesies and compliments exchanged, Aunt Eliza, greatly
condescending, talked the fashions with Mrs Larkin; while the
farmer and I, perspiring with the unusual effort, exchanged
remarks on the mutability of the weather and the steady fall in
the price of corn. (Who would have thought, to hear us, that
only two short days ago we had confronted each other on either
side of a hedge,--I triumphant, provocative, derisive; he
flushed, wroth, cracking his whip, and volleying forth profanity?
So powerful is all-subduing ceremony!) Sabina the while,
demurely seated with a Pilgrim's Progress on her knee, and
apparently absorbed in a brightly coloured presentment of
"Apollyon Straddling Right across the Way," eyed me at times with
shy interest; but repelled all Aunt Eliza's advances with a
frigid politeness for which I could not sufficiently admire her.
"It's surprising to me," I heard my aunt remark presently, "how
my eldest nephew, Edward, despises little girls. I heard him
tell Charlotte the other day that he wished he could exchange her
for a pair of Japanese guinea-pigs. It made the poor child cry.
Boys are so heartless!" (I saw Sabina stiffen as she sat, and
her tip-tilted nose twitched scornfully.) "Now this boy here--"
(my soul descended into my very boots. Could the woman have
intercepted any of my amorous glances at the baker's wife?) "Now
this boy," my aunt went on, "is more human altogether. Only
yesterday he took his sister to the baker's shop, and spent his
only penny buying her sweets. I thought it showed such a nice
disposition. I wish Edward were more like him!"
I breathed again. It was unnecessary to explain my real motives
for that visit to the baker's. Sabina's face softened, and her
contemptuous nose descended from its altitude of scorn; she gave
me one shy glance of kindness, and then concentrated her
attention upon Mercy knocking at the Wicket Gate. I felt awfully
mean as regarded Edward; but what could I do? I was in Gaza,
gagged and bound; the Philistines hemmed me in.
The same evening the storm burst, the bolt fell, and--to continue
the metaphor--the atmosphere grew serene and clear once more.
The evening service was shorter than usual, the vicar, as he
ascended the pulpit steps, having dropped two pages out of his
sermon-case,--unperceived by any but ourselves, either at the
moment or subsequently when the hiatus was reached; so as we
joyfully shuffled out I whispered Edward that by racing home at
top speed we should make time to assume our bows and arrows (laid
aside for the day) and play at Indians and buffaloes with Aunt
Eliza's fowls--already strolling roostwards, regardless of their
doom--before that sedately stepping lady could return. Edward
hung at the door, wavering; the suggestion had unhallowed charms.
At that moment Sabina issued primly forth, and, seeing Edward,
put out her tongue at him in the most exasperating manner
conceivable; then passed on her way, her shoulders rigid, her
dainty head held high. A man can stand very much in the cause of
love: poverty, aunts, rivals, barriers of every sort,--all these
only serve to fan the flame. But personal ridicule is a shaft
that reaches the very vitals. Edward led the race home at a
speed which one of Ballantyne's heroes might have equalled but
never surpassed; and that evening the Indians dispersed Aunt
Eliza's fowls over several square miles of country, so that the
tale of them remaineth incomplete unto this day. Edward himself,
cheering wildly, pursued the big Cochin-China cock till the bird
sank gasping under the drawing-room window, whereat its mistress
stood petrified; and after supper, in the shrubbery, smoked a
half-consumed cigar he had picked up in the road, and declared to
an awe-stricken audience his final, his immitigable, resolve to
go into the army.
The crisis was past, and Edward was saved! . . . And
yet . . . sunt lachrymae rerem . . . to me watching the cigar-
stump alternately pale and glow against the dark background of
laurel, a vision of a tip-tilted nose, of a small head poised
scornfully, seemed to hover on the gathering gloom--seemed to
grow and fade and grow again, like the grin of the Cheshire cat--
pathetically, reproachfully even; and the charms of the baker's
wife slipped from my memory like snow-wreaths in thaw. After
all, Sabina was nowise to blame: why should the child be
punished? To-morrow I would give them the slip, and stroll round
by her garden promiscuous-like, at a time when the farmer was
safe in the rick-yard. If nothing came of it, there was no harm
done; and if on the contrary. . . !
THE BURGLARS
It was much too fine a night to think of going to bed at once,
and so, although the witching hour of nine P.M. had struck,
Edward and I were still leaning out of the open window in our
nightshirts, watching the play of the cedar-branch shadows on the
moonlit lawn, and planning schemes of fresh devilry for the
sunshiny morrow. From below, strains of the jocund piano
declared that the Olympians were enjoying themselves in their
listless, impotent way; for the new curate had been bidden to
dinner that night, and was at the moment unclerically proclaiming
to all the world that he feared no foe. His discordant
vociferations doubtless started a train of thought in Edward's
mind, for the youth presently remarked, a propos of nothing
that had been said before, "I believe the new curate's rather
gone on Aunt Maria."
I scouted the notion. "Why, she's quite old," I said. (She must
have seen some five-and-twenty summers.)
"Of course she is," replied Edward, scornfully. "It's not her,
it's her money he's after, you bet!"
"Didn't know she had any money," I observed timidly.
"Sure to have," said my brother, with confidence. "Heaps and
heaps."
Silence ensued, both our minds being busy with the new situation
thus presented,--mine, in wonderment at this flaw that so often
declared itself in enviable natures of fullest endowment,--in a
grown-up man and a good cricketer, for instance, even as this
curate; Edward's (apparently), in the consideration of how such a
state of things, supposing it existed, could be best turned to
his own advantage.
"Bobby Ferris told me," began Edward in due course, "that there
was a fellow spooning his sister once--"
"What's spooning?" I asked meekly.
"Oh, _I_ dunno," said Edward, indifferently. It's--it's--it's
just a thing they do, you know. And he used to carry notes and
messages and things between 'em, and he got a shilling almost
every time."
"What, from each of 'em?" I innocently inquired.
Edward looked at me with scornful pity. "Girls never have any
money," he briefly explained. "But she did his exercises and got
him out of rows, and told stories for him when he needed it--and
much better ones than he could have made up for himself. Girls
are useful in some ways. So he was living in clover, when
unfortunately they went and quarrelled about something."
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