Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1876-06-07
was in a line that justsuited me. Ihad

was in line that justsuited me. Ihad
no great luck, but was making my liv-
ing and enjoying myself first rate. So
pleased was [ with myself that [ must
needs write home to mother with a
pocket of gold dust and a lot Of stories
about the diggings. was even SO
much Modified that sent my love to
Garry and regards to Baker.
Well, it so happened that my letter
reached home just after Garry and
mother had fallen out, and mother had
mustered up spirit to send 'em out of
the house and get rid Of 'em. And
she wrote to me, poor woman, such a
kind letter. was her own dear, dar-
ling boy, and she saw now how that
willy Baker had set her against me-
But if I'd come home now and close
her eyes, all that she had would be
mine, and I should take my proper
place in the world. Added to that she
sent me bank post-bill for 910O to
pay my expenses.
After that felt I was bound to go,
and yet things kept turning up that
hindered me from starting. I had to
finish out piece with my mates, and
then waited for chum of mine who
drove bus in Melbourne, who was
going home too; so that it was year or
more before found myself anchored
in the Downs, with the white cliffs of
Old England shining in the distance. I
landed there and made my way with
out troubling myself about my baggage,
just as l was, half sailor, half digger,
across the country to Biddlesden, where
mother lived.
brick house, with bow-windows kept
wonderfully bright, wire blinds, and
green venetians; the High street with
turf by the sides, and nice trees grow
ing here and there. 1t looked so quiet
and cheerful, wind and sun shining
brightly on everything, that l said to
myself quite in the poetic vein, off
there's peace to be found in the world
the heart that is humble may hope for
it here"
There were beautiful white steps up
to mothers door, and I walked up
them with q strange uneasy feeling,
half joy and half foreboding. 1t was
just four o'clock. Mother would be
sitting by the fire. She always had a
bit of fire, except in the very hottest
weather. Dinner had just been taken
away. There would be two decanters
on the table in little round stands, a
few biscuits, two or three apples, and
some walnuts, in dishes of old china.
Mother would have her feet on the
fender, with her dress tucked over her
knees and her black quilted-satin pet
ticoat warming in the blaze. I would
just pop in quietly. "Hallo, mother p
should say, just if I'd come home
from school, and slip behind her chair
and give her a kiss before the old lady
knew where she was
Lord, how my heart did beat as I
softly opened the door! This was
what | saw-the decanters were there
all right, and the desert, and the smell
of dinner and wine, just as of old, but
there was no mother sitting there.
Garry in black on one side of the fire;
Baker in black on the other; little
Trimmings, the lawyer, in the middle,
smacklng his lips over a glass of port.
My voice seemed to die away in my
throat. I shut the door gently and
went off into the kitchen. There was
Patty, mothers old servant, putting
away the silver She was in black,
too, and crying over the things. She
gave such a scream when she saw me.
| was rough-looking chap, bear in
mind, and she didn't know me at the
moment.
"I'm Dick, Patty" Isaid. Where's
mother?"
co." she cried, putting her hands on
my shoulder and looking into my face
to make sure l was speaking the truth;
40 dear, Master Dick, why didn't you
come home before?"
So it was. Mother had been dead
and buried a fortnight ago. Baker
had smoothed her over long before her
death, and he and Carry between them
and made it right about the property
don't know what lies Baker had told
about me, but I saw her will afterwards
In Doctors Commons for a shilling, and
there was nothing for me except hun
dred pounds. And / didn't even get
that, for they made out that [ had been
advanced the money beforehand-tha
hundred pounds mother sent me, you
remember-and 1 knew it was no good
fighting Baker aboutit, me that hadn't
halfpenny.
All the knocking about hadn't knock
ed the pride out of me. Before I'd be
beholden to Carry or Baker for pen
ny I'd starve; and / came very near
starving too. I walked up to London,
hungry and footsore. I slept under the
trees in the park, and earned few
shillings at the docks, just enough to
keep body and soul together, until one
day had carried ship captains bag
from the Victoria Docks to Charing
Cross for a shilling, and I stood at the
corner of st. Martins Church, looking
at the fountains and the big lions, and
wishing one of them was alive and
would make an end of me, when a vel
low bus drove up, and chap sings out:
Halo, Dickp It was the chum I'd
come home with who was sitting on the
box driving, Jump up" he said; and
got upon the box-seat, and we had a
long talk, and finding was doing no
good, he offered to get me a job to look
after the horses of the bus.