The Children of the New Forest - Frederick Marryat (book recommendations based on other books TXT) 📗

seedling-thorns, which I shall take up in the winter, or early in the spring, to put in, as the bank will be ready for them by that time.”

“Well, that’s all very good; but I fear it will be a long while before you have such a quantity of land dug up.”

“Yes, of course it will; but, Edward, I have plenty of manure to spare, and I shall put it all over this land, and then it will become a rich pasture, and also an earlier pasture than what we can get from the forest, and will be very handy to turn the cows and the calves upon; or even Billy, if we want him in a hurry.”

“All that is very true,” replied Edward; “so that it will be useful at all events, if you do not dig it up.”

“Indeed it will,” replied Humphrey; “I only wish it were six acres instead of three.”

“I can’t say I do,” replied Edward, laughing; “you are too grand in your ideas; only think what a quantity of spruces we shall have to cut down on it, to post and rail what you just propose. Let it be three acres first, Humphrey; and when they are inclosed, you may begin to talk of three more.”

“Well, perhaps you are right, Edward,” said Humphrey.

“Why, here’s Pablo coming after us; he’s not coming to work, I presume, but to amuse himself by looking on.”

“I don’t think he’s strong enough to do much hard work, Humphrey, although he appears very ingenious.”

“No, I agree with you; and if he is to work, depend upon it it must not be by having work set out for him; he would take a disgust to it directly. I have another plan for him.”

“And what is that, Humphrey?”

“I shall not set him any thing to do, and shall make him believe that I do not think he is able to do any thing. That will pique him, and I think by that means I shall get more work out of him than you would think, especially when, after he has done it, I express my wonder and give him praise.”

“Not a bad idea, that; you will work upon his pride, which is probably stronger than his laziness.”

“I do not think him lazy, but I think him unused to hard work, and having lived a life of wandering and idleness, not very easy to be brought to constant and dayly work, except by degrees, and by the means which I propose. Here we are,” continued Humphrey, throwing his ax and bill-hook down, and proceeding to take off his doublet; “now for an hour or two’s fulfillment of the sentence of our first parents —to wit, ‘the sweat of the brow.’”

Edward followed Humphrey’s example in taking off his doublet; they selected the long thin trees most fitted for rails, and were hard at work when Pablo came up to them. More than a dozen trees had fallen, and lay one upon the other, before they stopped a while to recover themselves a little.

“Well, Pablo,” said Humphrey, wiping his forehead, “I suppose you think looking on better than cutting down trees; and so it is.”

“What cut down trees for?”

“To make posts and rails to fence in more ground. I shall not leave the boughs on.”

“No cut them off by-and-by, and then put poles on the cart and carry them home.”

Edward and Humphrey then recommenced their labor, and worked for another half hour, when they paused to recover their wind.

“Hard work, Pablo,” said Humphrey.

“Yes, very hard work; Pablo not strong enough.”

“Oh no, you are not able to do any thing of this kind, I know. No work this for gipsies; they take birds’ nests and catch rabbits.”

“Yes,” replied Pablo, nodding, “and you eat them.”

“So he does, Pablo,” said Edward, “so you are useful in your way; for if he had nothing to eat, he would not be able to work. Strong man cut down trees, weak man catch rabbits.”

“Both good,” said Pablo.

“Yes, but strong man like work; not strong man not like work, Pablo. So now look on again, for we must have another spell.”

“Strong man cut down trees, not strong man cut off branches,” said Pablo, taking up the bill-hook and setting to work to cut off the boughs, which he did with great dexterity and rapidity.

Edward and Humphrey exchanged glances and smiles, and then worked away in silence till it was, as they supposed, dinner time. They were not wrong in their supposition, although they had no other clock than their appetites, which, however, tell the time pretty correctly to those who work hard. Alice had the platters on the table, and was looking out to see if they were coming.

“Why, Pablo, have you been at work?” said Edith.

“Yes, little missy, work all the morning.”

“Indeed he has, and has worked very well, and been very useful,” said Edward.

“It has given you an appetite for your dinner, Pablo, has it not?” said Humphrey.

“Have that without work,” replied the boy.

“Pablo, you are a very good gipsy boy,” said Edith, patting his head with a patronizing air; “I shall let you walk out with me and carry the basket to put the eggs in when you come home in the evening.”

“That is a reward,” said Humphrey, laughing.

After dinner they continued their labor, and by supper time had so many trees cut down, that they determined to carry home the next day, and lay them along to see how many more they would want. While they put the trees in the cart and took them home, Pablo contrived to lop off the boughs and prepare the poles for them to take away. As soon as they had cut down sufficient and carted them home, they then selected shorter trees for posts; and when Pablo had cleared them of the boughs, they sawed them out the proper lengths, and then carted them home. This occupied nearly the whole week, and then they proceeded to dig holes and set the posts in. The railing was then to be nailed to the posts, and that occupied them three days more; so that it was altogether a fortnight of hard work before the three acres were inclosed.

“There,” said Humphrey, “that’s a good job over; many thanks, Edward, for your assistance; and thank you, too, Pablo, for you really have helped us very much indeed, and are a very useful, good boy. Now for raising the bank; that I must do when I can spare time; but my garden is overrun with weeds, and I must get Edith and Alice to help me there.”

“If you don’t want me any longer, Humphrey,” said Edward, “I think I shall go over to see Oswald, and take Pablo with me. I want to know how that fellow Corbould is, and what he says; and whether the intendant has come back; not that I shall go near him or his good little daughter, but I think I may as well go, and it will be a good opportunity of showing Pablo the way to Oswald’s cottage.”

“I think so too; and when you come back, Edward, one of us must go to Lymington, for I require some tools, and Pablo is very ragged. He must have some better clothes than these old ones of ours, if he is to be sent messages. Don’t you think so?”

“Certainly I do.”

“And I want a thousand things,” said Alice.

“Indeed, mistress, won’t less than a thousand content you?”

“Yes, perhaps not quite a thousand, but I really do want a great many, and I will make you a list of them. I have not pans enough for my milk; I want salt; I want tubs; but I will make out a list, and you will find it a very long one.”

“Well, I hope you have something to sell to pay for them?”

“Yes; I have plenty of butter salted down.”

“What have you, Edith?”

“Oh, my chickens are not large enough yet; as soon as they are Humphrey must get me some ducks and geese; for I mean to keep some; and by-and-by I will have some turkeys, but not yet. I must wait till Humphrey builds me the new house for them he has promised me.”

“I think you are right, Edith, about the ducks and geese; they will do well on the water behind the yard, and I will dig you out a bigger pool for them.”

“Edith, my dear, your little fingers are just made to weed my onions well, and I wish you would do it tomorrow morning, if you have time.”

“Yes, Humphrey, but my little fingers won’t smell very nice afterward.”

“Not till you have washed them, I guess; but there is soap and water, you know.”

“Yes, I know there is; but if I weed the onions, I can not help Alice to make the butter; however, if Alice can do without me, I will do it.”

“I want some more seeds sadly,” said Humphrey, “and I must make out my list. I must go to Lymington myself this time, Edward, for you will be puzzled with all our wants.”

“Not if I know exactly what you do want; but as I really do not, and probably should make mistakes, I think it will be better if you do go. But it is bedtime, and as I shall start early, good-night, sisters; I beg you will let me have something to eat before I start. I shall try for some venison as I come back, and shall take Smoker with me; he is quite well again, and his ribs are as stout as ever.”

“And, Edward,” said Alice, “I wish, when you kill any venison, that you would bring home some of those parts which you usually throw away, for I assure you, now that we have three dogs, I hardly know how to find enough for them to eat.”

“I’ll not fail, Alice,” replied Edward, “and now once more good-night.”

Early the next morning Edward took his gun, and, with Pablo and Smoker, set off for Oswald’s cottage.

Edward talked a great deal with Pablo relative to his former life; and, by the answers which the boy gave him, was satisfied that, notwithstanding his doubtful way of bringing up, the lad was not corrupted, but was a well-minded boy. As they walked through a grove of trees, Edward still talking, Pablo stopped and put his hand before Edward’s mouth, and then stooping down, at the same time seizing Smoker by the neck, he pointed with his finger. Edward at first could see nothing, but eventually he made out the horns of an animal just rising above a hillock. It was evidently one of the wild cattle. Edward cocked his gun and advanced cautiously, while Pablo remained where he was, holding Smoker. As soon as he was near enough to hit the head of the animal, Edward leveled and fired, and Pablo let Smoker loose, who bounded forward over the hillock. They followed the dog and found him about to seize a calf which stood by a heifer that Edward had shot. Edward called him over and went up to the animal; it was a fine young heifer, and the calf was not more than a fortnight old.

“We can not stop now, Pablo,” said Edward. “Humphrey would like to have the calf, and we must take our chance of its remaining by its mother till we come back. I think it will for a day or two, so let us push on.”

No further adventure happened, and they arrived a little after noon at Oswald’s cottage. He was not at home, his wife saying that she believed that he was with the intendant, who