The Iron Horse, R. M. Ballantyne [howl and other poems .txt] 📗

but w’en I gits her into the shed, and gives her an overhaul, you’d scarce know ’er again.”

At this moment baby Marrot who had been sleeping when his father was brought in, became suddenly conscious of internal vacuity, and forthwith set up a lusty howl, whereupon Mrs Marrot pounced upon and throttled him—to some extent.

“Don’t stop him, Molly, my dear; you—”

The remainder of the sentence was drowned by the night express which rushed past, joining baby Marrot in a yell, as the latter freed his throat from his mother’s grip.

“Don’t stop him, Molly,” repeated John; “you don’t suppose that after drivin’ a locomotive for eight years I’m agoin’ to be disturbed by the small pipe of our own youngster. Let him yell, Molly; it does him good, and it don’t do me no harm.”

It was now arranged that Gertie was to be head nurse on this trying occasion—not that the appointment was considered appropriate, but it was unavoidable, seeing that Gertie wanted it intensely, and her father was pleased to have it so.

Gertie had never before been called upon to do anything in the nursing way more serious than to look after baby when he had eaten too much or scalded himself—nevertheless, the way in which she went about her nursing would have done credit to an hospital training. She evidently possessed a natural aptitude for the work, and went about it with a sense of the importance of the trust that was quite charming. She was at that tender age when such work becomes barely possible, and the performance of it seems quite miraculous! Her father gazed at her in bewilderment while she went about gravely smoothing his pillow and tucking in corners of blankets, and bringing cups, and tumblers, and spoons, and handkerchiefs, and sundry other articles, to a chair at his bedside, so as to be within reach of his hand. Molly and Loo, besides being highly interested, were intensely amused. It is a matter of dispute even to this day whether baby did not perceive the marvellous aptitude of Gertie, for he continued for a prolonged period to gaze at her as if in solemn wonder. Mrs Marrot declared baby’s gaze to be one of admiration, but John held that it was owing to the state of exhaustion that resulted from an unusually long fit of yelling. While he stared thus, Gertie, having completed a number of little operations and put the finishing touches or pats to them, became suddenly aware that every one was laughing quietly.

“What is it?” she asked, relaxing the severity of her brow and brightening up.

They all laughed still more at this, and Gertie, looking round for an explanation, encountered baby’s glaring eyes, whereupon, supposing that she had found out the cause, she laughed too. But she quickly dismissed her levity and recurred to her work with renewed diligence.

It was well for the engine-driver that he had been trained in a rough school, for his powers of endurance were severely tested that night, by the attentions of his numerous friends who called to inquire for him, and in some cases insisted on seeing him.

Among others came one of the directors of the company, who, seeing how matters stood, with much consideration said that he would not sit down, but had merely looked in for a moment, to tell John Marrot that an appointment had been found for his son Robert in the “Works,” and that if he would send him over in the morning he would be introduced to the locomotive superintendent and initiated into the details of his new sphere of action.

This was very gratifying to the engine-driver of course, but much more so to Bob himself, whose highest earthly ambition was to become, as he styled it, an engineer. When that aspiring youth came home that night after cleaning his lamps, he wiped his oily hands on a bundle of waste, and sat down beside his sire to inquire considerately into his state of body, and to give him, as he expressed it, the noos of the line.

“You see, daddy,” he said, “the doctor tells me you’re to be kep’ quiet, an’ not allowed to talk, so in course you’ve got nothin’ to do but lie still an’ listen while I give ’ee the noos. So ’ere goes. An’ don’t you sit too near baby, mother, else you’ll wake ’im up, an’ we’ll have a yell as’ll put talkin’ out o’ the question. Well then—”

“Bob,” said Loo, interrupting her brother as she sat down opposite, and began to mend one of baby’s pinafores—which by the way was already so mended and patched as to have lost much of its original form and appearance—“Bob, Mr Able has been here, and—”

“Who’s Mr Able?” demanded Bob.

“One of the directors,—don’t you know?”

“How should I know?” retorted Bob; “you don’t suppose that the d’rectors is all my partikler friends, do you? There’s only two or three of ’em as has the honer of my acquaintance.”

“Well,” resumed Loo with a laugh, “you ought to consider Mr Able one of your particular friends at all events, for he has been here this evening making kind inquiries after father, and telling him that he has got you appointed to the works that you’ve been so long hankering—”

“What!” interrupted Bob in great excitement; “you don’t mean that, Loo?”

“Yes, I do.”

“To the great Clatterby Works, where the big hammer is?”

“Well, I suppose it is to these works,” said Loo.

“Ay, Bob, to the Clatterby Works, lad; so you’re a made man if you only behave yourself and do your dooty,” said John Marrot in reply to his son’s look of inquiry.

In the strength of his satisfaction the boy rose, and, taking Loo round the neck, kissed her pretty mouth heartily, after which he bestowed the same favour on his mother and little Gertie, and looked as if he meant to do it to baby too, but he thought better of it.

“Why, mother,” he said, resuming his seat at the bedside, “these are the works where they’ve got the big hammers—so big, mother; oh! you’ve no notion how big they are, and heavy. Why, one of ’em is full five tons in weight—think o’ that! equal to five carts of coals, mother, all rolled into one.”

“Nonsense!” said Mrs Marrot.

“But it’s true,” said Bob, earnestly.

“Nonsense!” repeated Mrs Marrot; “w’y, what would be the use of a hammer as no one could lift?”

“Steam lifts it, mother,” said Bob, “as easy—yes, as easy as you lift the rollin’ pin.”

The unbelieving woman still shook her head, smiled, and said, “Nonsense!”

“Moreover,” continued Bob, waxing enthusiastic on his favourite topic, “I’m told, for I haven’t seen ’em yet, that they’ve got a pair o’ scissors there as can cut cold iron as easy as you can cut paper—they could cut through,” said Bob, pausing and looking round, “they could cut through the poker and tongs and shovel, all at one go, as easy as if they was straws.”

“Gammon!” said Mrs Marrot.

“Isn’t it a fact, daddy?” cried Bob.

“Quite true, Molly, my dear. I must take you over to see the works some day and convince you,” said John with a faint smile. “But what’s the news you were goin’ to give us, Bob?” he added.

“The noos?—ah; that good noos drove it all out o’ my ’ead. Well, as I wos agoin’ to say, there’s a great to-do down at the shed, ’cause it’s said that an awful lot o’ thefts has bin goin’ on of late at Bingly station, and it’s bin reported that some of the drivers or firemen are consarned in it. An’ d’ee know, father,” continued Bob, suddenly becoming grave and very earnest, “I heard one o’ the men say that Will Garvie is suspected.”

There was a momentary deep silence, as if every one had received a shock; then Mrs Marrot exclaimed “What say ’ee, boy?”

At the same time her husband demanded sternly, “Who said that?”

“I don’t know, father. I was passing through the shed at the time and didn’t see who spoke, I only heerd ’im.”

“Father,” said Leo, over whose face a deep crimson flush had spread, “surely you don’t for a moment believe it?”

“Believe it,” replied John, “believe that my mate, Will Garvie, is a thief? I’d as soon believe that my Molly was a murderer!”

The energetic driver here struck his fist so violently on the bed as to cause his wounded side an acute twinge of pain. It had scarcely passed away when the door opened and Will Garvie himself entered.

“Well, Jack,” he said, going up to his friend’s couch and taking his hand, “how d’you feel now—better?”

The frank open countenance of the young man—albeit begrimed with smoke, and his clear laughing blue eyes, were such a flat contradiction to the charge which had been made against him that John looked up in his face and laughed.

“Well, you must be better, if that’s the way you answer me!”

“Oh, I’m all right,” said John, quietly; “leastwise I’m on the rails agin, an’ only shunted on to a sidin’ to be overhauled and repaired a bit. You’ve heard the noos, I fancy?”

“What of Bob’s appointment?” said Will, glancing at Loo; for he knew that anything that was for Bob’s advantage gave her intense delight, and he liked to watch her countenance in such circumstances—“of course I’ve heard of that. Moreover, I’ve bin to the locomotive superintendent and got leave to go over with him to-morrow and show him through the works, along with any of his family that might want to go. I made a special request for this, thinkin’ that mayhap—”

He looked pointedly at Loo, and Loo looked pointedly at the pinafore which suddenly claimed her undivided attention. Bob, before Will could finish his sentence, broke in with—

“Now, ain’t that a su’cumstance? w’y, we was just talkin’ of havin’ mother over to see the works, an’ lettin’ her be convinced by her own eyes that there is a hammer there of five ton weight, drove by steam, an’ a pair o’ scissors as can cut cold iron an inch thick. You’ll go mother, won’t you?”

“Well, I dessay it would be amoosin’; yes, I’ll go, Bob, if father’s better.”

Accordingly, much to Will Garvie’s disappointment it was arranged that Mrs Marrot was to accompany him and Bob to the great railway “Works” on the following day.