So accomplished a person as
the reader must have seen at
once that I made away with Timothy
in order to give his little vests
and pinafores and shoes to David,
and, therefore, dear sir or madam,
rail not overmuch at me for causing
our painter pain. Know, too,
that though his sympathy ran
free I soon discovered many of
his inquiries to be prompted
by a mere selfish desire to save
his boy from the fate of mine.
Such are parents.
He asked compassionately if
there was anything he could do
for me, and, of course, there
was something he could do, but
were I to propose it I doubted
not he would be on his stilts
at once, for already I had reason
to know him for a haughty, sensitive
dog, who ever became high at
the first hint of help. So the
proposal must come from him.
I spoke of the many little things
in the house that were now hurtful
to me to look upon, and he clutched
my hand, deeply moved, though
it was another house with its
little things he saw. I was ashamed
to harass him thus, but he had
not a sufficiency of the little
things, and besides my impulsiveness
had plunged me into a deuce of
a mess, so I went on distastefully.
Was there no profession in this
age of specialism for taking
away children's garments from
houses where they were suddenly
become a pain? Could I sell them?
Could I give them to the needy,
who would probably dispose of
them for gin? I told him of a
friend with a young child who
had already refused them because
it would be unpleasant to him
to be reminded of Timothy, and
I think this was what touched
him to the quick, so that he
made the offer I was waiting
for.
I had done it with a heavy
foot, and by this time was in
a rage with both him and myself,
but I always was a bungler, and,
having adopted this means in
a hurry, I could at the time
see no other easy way out. Timothy's
hold on life, as you may have
apprehended, was ever of the
slightest, and I suppose I always
knew that he must soon revert
to the obscure. He could never
have penetrated into the open.
It was no life for a boy.
Yet now, that his time had
come, I was loath to see him
go. I seem to remember carrying
him that evening to the window
with uncommon tenderness (following
the setting sun that was to take
him away), and telling him with
not unnatural bitterness that
he had got to leave me because
another child was in need of
all his pretty things; and as
the sun, his true father, lapt
him in its dancing arms, he sent
his love to a lady of long ago
whom he called by the sweetest
of names, not knowing in his
innocence that the little white
birds are the birds that never
have a mother. I wished (so had
the phantasy of Timothy taken
possession of me) that before
he went he could have played
once in the Kensington Gardens,
and have ridden on the fallen
trees, calling gloriously to
me to look; that he could have
sailed one paper-galleon on the
Round Pond; fain would I have
had him chase one hoop a little
way down the laughing avenues
of childhood, where memory tells
us we run but once, on a long
summer-day, emerging at the other
end as men and women with all
the fun to pay for; and I think
(thus fancy wantons with me in
these desolate chambers) he knew
my longings, and said with a
boy-like flush that the reason
he never did these things was
not that he was afraid, for he
would have loved to do them all,
but because he was not quite
like other boys; and, so saying,
he let go my finger and faded
from before my eyes into another
and golden ether; but I shall
ever hold that had he been quite
like other boys there would have
been none braver than my Timothy.
I fear I am not truly brave
myself, for though when under
fire, so far as I can recollect,
I behaved as others, morally
I seem to be deficient. So I
discovered next day when I attempted
to buy David's outfit, and found
myself as shy of entering the
shop as any Mary at the pawnbroker's.
The shop for little garments
seems very alarming when you
reach the door; a man abruptly
become a parent, and thus lost
to a finer sense of the proprieties,
may be able to stalk in unprotected,
but apparently I could not. Indeed,
I have allowed a repugnance to
entering shops of any kind, save
my tailor's, to grow on me, and
to my tailor's I fear I go too
frequently.
So I skulked near the shop
of the little garments, jeering
at myself, and it was strange
to me to reflect at, say, three
o'clock that if I had been brazen
at half-past two all would now
be over.
To show what
was my state, take the case
of the very gentleman-
like man whom I detected gazing
fixedly at me, or so I thought,
just as I had drawn valiantly
near the door. I sauntered away,
but when I returned he was still
there, which seemed conclusive
proof that he had smoked my purpose.
Sternly controlling my temper
I bowed, and said with icy politeness, "You
have the advantage of me, sir."
"I beg your pardon," said
he, and I am now persuaded
that my
words turned his attention to
me for the first time, but at
the moment I was sure some impertinent
meaning lurked behind his answer.
"I have not the pleasure of
your acquaintance," I barked.
"No one regrets it more than
I do," he replied, laughing.
"I mean, sir," said I, "that
I shall wait here until you retire," and
with that I put my back to a
shop-window.
By this time
he was grown angry, and said
he, "I have no engagement," and
he put his back to the shop-window.
Each of us was doggedly determined
to tire the other out, and we
must have looked ridiculous.
We also felt it, for ten minutes
afterward, our passions having
died away, we shook hands cordially
and agreed to call hansoms.
Must I abandon the enterprise?
Certainly I knew divers ladies
who would make the purchases
for me, but first I must explain,
and, rather than explain it has
ever been my custom to do without.
I was in this despondency when
a sudden recollection of Irene
and Mrs. Hicking heartened me
like a cordial, for I saw in
them at once the engine and decoy
by which David should procure
his outfit.
You must be told who they were.
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