Chapter XI

by Frances Hodgson Burnett

　　When Mr. Hobbs's young friend left him to go to Dorincourt Castleand become Lord Fauntleroy, and the grocery-man had time torealize that the Atlantic Ocean lay between himself and the smallcompanion who had spent so many agreeable hours in his society,he really began to feel very lonely indeed. The fact was, Mr.Hobbs was not a clever man nor even a bright one; he was, indeed,rather a slow and heavy person, and he had never made manyacquaintances. He was not mentally energetic enough to know howto amuse himself, and in truth he never did anything of anentertaining nature but read the newspapers and add up hisaccounts. It was not very easy for him to add up his accounts,and sometimes it took him a long time to bring them out right;and in the old days, little Lord Fauntleroy, who had learned howto add up quite nicely with his fingers and a slate and pencil,had sometimes even gone to the length of trying to help him; and,then too, he had been so good a listener and had taken such aninterest in what the newspaper said, and he and Mr. Hobbs hadheld such long conversations about the Revolution and the Britishand the elections and the Republican party, that it was no wonderhis going left a blank in the grocery store. At first it seemedto Mr. Hobbs that Cedric was not really far away, and would comeback again; that some day he would look up from his paper and seethe little lad standing in the door-way, in his white suit andred stockings, and with his straw hat on the back of his head,and would hear him say in his cheerful little voice: "Hello, Mr.Hobbs! This is a hot day--isn't it?" But as the days passed onand this did not happen, Mr. Hobbs felt very dull and uneasy. Hedid not even enjoy his newspaper as much as he used to. He wouldput the paper down on his knee after reading it, and sit andstare at the high stool for a long time. There were some markson the long legs which made him feel quite dejected andmelancholy. They were marks made by the heels of the next Earlof Dorincourt, when he kicked and talked at the same time. Itseems that even youthful earls kick the legs of things they siton;--noble blood and lofty lineage do not prevent it. Afterlooking at those marks, Mr. Hobbs would take out his gold watchand open it and stare at the inscription: "From his oldestfriend, Lord Fauntleroy, to Mr. Hobbs. When this you see,remember me." And after staring at it awhile, he would shut itup with a loud snap, and sigh and get up and go and stand in thedoor-way--between the box of potatoes and the barrel ofapples--and look up the street. At night, when the store wasclosed, he would light his pipe and walk slowly along thepavement until he reached the house where Cedric had lived, onwhich there was a sign that read, "This House to Let"; and hewould stop near it and look up and shake his head, and puff athis pipe very hard, and after a while walk mournfully back again.This went on for two or three weeks before any new idea came tohim. Being slow and ponderous, it always took him a long time toreach a new idea. As a rule, he did not like new ideas, butpreferred old ones. After two or three weeks, however, duringwhich, instead of getting better, matters really grew worse, anovel plan slowly and deliberately dawned upon him. He would goto see Dick. He smoked a great many pipes before he arrived atthe conclusion, but finally he did arrive at it. He would go tosee Dick. He knew all about Dick. Cedric had told him, and hisidea was that perhaps Dick might be some comfort to him in theway of talking things over.So one day when Dick was very hard at work blacking a customer'sboots, a short, stout man with a heavy face and a bald headstopped on the pavement and stared for two or three minutes atthe bootblack's sign, which read:"PROFESSOR DICK TIPTONCAN'T BE BEAT."He stared at it so long that Dick began to take a lively interestin him, and when he had put the finishing touch to his customer'sboots, he said:"Want a shine, sir?"The stout man came forward deliberately and put his foot on therest."Yes," he said.Then when Dick fell to work, the stout man looked from Dick tothe sign and from the sign to Dick."Where did you get that?" he asked."From a friend o' mine," said Dick,--"a little feller. Heguv' me the whole outfit. He was the best little feller ye eversaw. He's in England now. Gone to be one o' them lords.""Lord--Lord--" asked Mr. Hobbs, with ponderous slowness, "LordFauntleroy--Goin' to be Earl of Dorincourt?"Dick almost dropped his brush."Why, boss!" he exclaimed, "d' ye know him yerself?""I've known him," answered Mr. Hobbs, wiping his warm forehead,"ever since he was born. We was lifetime acquaintances--that'swhat we was."It really made him feel quite agitated to speak of it. He pulledthe splendid gold watch out of his pocket and opened it, andshowed the inside of the case to Dick."`When this you see, remember me,'" he read. "That was hisparting keepsake to me `I don't want you to forget me'--those washis words--I'd ha' remembered him," he went on, shaking hishead, "if he hadn't given me a thing an' I hadn't seen hide norhair on him again. He was a companion as any man wouldremember.""He was the nicest little feller I ever see," said Dick. "An'as to sand--I never seen so much sand to a little feller. Ithought a heap o' him, I did,--an' we was friends, too--we wassort o' chums from the fust, that little young un an' me. Igrabbed his ball from under a stage fur him, an' he never forgotit; an' he'd come down here, he would, with his mother or hisnuss and he'd holler: `Hello, Dick!' at me, as friendly as if hewas six feet high, when he warn't knee high to a grasshopper, andwas dressed in gal's clo'es. He was a gay little chap, and whenyou was down on your luck, it did you good to talk to him.""That's so," said Mr. Hobbs. "It was a pity to make a earlout of him. He would have shone in the grocery business--or drygoods either; he would have shone!" And he shook his head withdeeper regret than ever.It proved that they had so much to say to each other that it wasnot possible to say it all at one time, and so it was agreed thatthe next night Dick should make a visit to the store and keep Mr.Hobbs company. The plan pleased Dick well enough. He had been astreet waif nearly all his life, but he had never been a bad boy,and he had always had a private yearning for a more respectablekind of existence. Since he had been in business for himself, hehad made enough money to enable him to sleep under a roof insteadof out in the streets, and he had begun to hope he might reacheven a higher plane, in time. So, to be invited to call on astout, respectable man who owned a corner store, and even had ahorse and wagon, seemed to him quite an event."Do you know anything about earls and castles?" Mr. Hobbsinquired. "I'd like to know more of the particklars.""There's a story about some on 'em in the Penny Story Gazette,"said Dick. "It's called the `Crime of a Coronet; or, TheRevenge of the Countess May.' It's a boss thing, too. Some of usboys 're takin' it to read.""Bring it up when you come," said Mr. Hobbs, "an' I'll pay forit. Bring all you can find that have any earls in 'em. If thereare n't earls, markises'll do, or dooks--though he never mademention of any dooks or markises. We did go over coronets alittle, but I never happened to see any. I guess they don't keep'em 'round here.""Tiffany 'd have 'em if anybody did," said Dick, "but I don'tknow as I'd know one if I saw it."Mr. Hobbs did not explain that he would not have known one if hesaw it. He merely shook his head ponderously."I s'pose there is very little call for 'em," he said, and thatended the matter.This was the beginning of quite a substantial friendship. WhenDick went up to the store, Mr. Hobbs received him with greathospitality. He gave him a chair tilted against the door, near abarrel of apples, and after his young visitor was seated, he madea jerk at them with the hand in which he held his pipe, saying:"Help yerself."Then he looked at the story papers, and after that they read anddiscussed the British aristocracy; and Mr. Hobbs smoked his pipevery hard and shook his head a great deal. He shook it most whenhe pointed out the high stool with the marks on its legs."There's his very kicks," he said impressively; "his verykicks. I sit and look at 'em by the hour. This is a world ofups an' it's a world of downs. Why, he'd set there, an' eatcrackers out of a box, an' apples out of a barrel, an' pitch hiscores into the street; an' now he's a lord a-livin' in a castle.Them's a lord's kicks; they'll be a earl's kicks some day.Sometimes I says to myself, says I, `Well, I'll be jiggered!'"He seemed to derive a great deal of comfort from his reflectionsand Dick's visit. Before Dick went home, they had a supper inthe small back-room; they had crackers and cheese and sardines,and other canned things out of the store, and Mr. Hobbs solemnlyopened two bottles of ginger ale, and pouring out two glasses,proposed a toast."Here's to him!" he said, lifting his glass, "an' may he teach'em a lesson--earls an' markises an' dooks an' all!"After that night, the two saw each other often, and Mr. Hobbs wasmuch more comfortable and less desolate. They read the PennyStory Gazette, and many other interesting things, and gained aknowledge of the habits of the nobility and gentry which wouldhave surprised those despised classes if they had realized it.One day Mr. Hobbs made a pilgrimage to a book store down town,for the express purpose of adding to their library. He went tothe clerk and leaned over the counter to speak to him."I want," he said, "a book about earls.""What!" exclaimed the clerk."A book," repeated the grocery-man, "about earls.""I'm afraid," said the clerk, looking rather queer, "that wehaven't what you want.""Haven't?" said Mr. Hobbs, anxiously. "Well, say markisesthen--or dooks.""I know of no such book," answered the clerk.Mr. Hobbs was much disturbed. He looked down on the floor,--thenhe looked up."None about female earls?" he inquired."I'm afraid not," said the clerk with a smile."Well," exclaimed Mr. Hobbs, "I'll be jiggered!"He was just going out of the store, when the clerk called himback and asked him if a story in which the nobility were chiefcharacters would do. Mr. Hobbs said it would--if he could notget an entire volume devoted to earls. So the clerk sold him abook called "The Tower of London," written by Mr. HarrisonAinsworth, and he carried it home.When Dick came they began to read it. It was a very wonderfuland exciting book, and the scene was laid in the reign of thefamous English queen who is called by some people Bloody Mary.And as Mr. Hobbs heard of Queen Mary's deeds and the habit shehad of chopping people's heads off, putting them to the torture,and burning them alive, he became very much excited. He took hispipe out of his mouth and stared at Dick, and at last he wasobliged to mop the perspiration from his brow with his red pockethandkerchief."Why, he ain't safe!" he said. "He ain't safe! If the womenfolks can sit up on their thrones an' give the word for thingslike that to be done, who's to know what's happening to him thisvery minute? He's no more safe than nothing! Just let a womanlike that get mad, an' no one's safe!""Well," said Dick, though he looked rather anxious himself;"ye see this 'ere un isn't the one that's bossin' things now. Iknow her name's Victory, an' this un here in the book, her name'sMary.""So it is," said Mr. Hobbs, still mopping his forehead; "so itis. An' the newspapers are not sayin' anything about any racks,thumb-screws, or stake-burnin's,--but still it doesn't seem as if't was safe for him over there with those queer folks. Why, theytell me they don't keep the Fourth o' July!"He was privately uneasy for several days; and it was not until hereceived Fauntleroy's letter and had read it several times, bothto himself and to Dick, and had also read the letter Dick gotabout the same time, that he became composed again.But they both found great pleasure in their letters. They readand re-read them, and talked them over and enjoyed every word ofthem. And they spent days over the answers they sent and readthem over almost as often as the letters they had received.It was rather a labor for Dick to write his. All his knowledgeof reading and writing he had gained during a few months, when hehad lived with his elder brother, and had gone to a night-school;but, being a sharp boy, he had made the most of that briefeducation, and had spelled out things in newspapers since then,and practiced writing with bits of chalk on pavements or walls orfences. He told Mr. Hobbs all about his life and about his elderbrother, who had been rather good to him after their mother died,when Dick was quite a little fellow. Their father had died sometime before. The brother's name was Ben, and he had taken careof Dick as well as he could, until the boy was old enough to sellnewspapers and run errands. They had lived together, and as hegrew older Ben had managed to get along until he had quite adecent place in a store."And then," exclaimed Dick with disgust, "blest if he didn'tgo an' marry a gal! Just went and got spoony an' hadn't any moresense left! Married her, an' set up housekeepin' in two backrooms. An' a hefty un she was,--a regular tiger-cat. She'd tearthings to pieces when she got mad,--and she was mad all the time.Had a baby just like her,--yell day 'n' night! An' if I didn'thave to 'tend it! an' when it screamed, she'd fire things at me.She fired a plate at me one day, an' hit the baby--cut its chin.Doctor said he'd carry the mark till he died. A nice mother shewas! Crackey! but didn't we have a time--Ben 'n' mehself 'n'the young un. She was mad at Ben because he didn't make moneyfaster; 'n' at last he went out West with a man to set up acattle ranch. An' hadn't been gone a week'fore one night, I gothome from sellin' my papers, 'n' the rooms wus locked up 'n'empty, 'n' the woman o' the house. she told me Minna 'dgone--shown a clean pair o' heels. Some un else said she'd goneacross the water to be nuss to a lady as had a little baby, too.Never heard a word of her since--nuther has Ben. If I'd ha' binhim, I wouldn't ha' fretted a bit--'n' I guess he didn't. But hethought a heap o' her at the start. Tell you, he was spoons onher. She was a daisy-lookin' gal, too, when she was dressed up'n' not mad. She'd big black eyes 'n' black hair down to herknees; she'd make it into a rope as big as your arm, and twist it'round 'n' 'round her head; 'n' I tell you her eyes 'd snap!Folks used to say she was part _I_tali-un--said her mother orfather 'd come from there, 'n' it made her queer. I tell ye, shewas one of 'em--she was!"He often told Mr. Hobbs stories of her and of his brother Ben,who, since his going out West, had written once or twice to Dick.Ben's luck had not been good, and he had wandered from place toplace; but at last he had settled on a ranch in California, wherehe was at work at the time when Dick became acquainted with MrHobbs."That gal," said Dick one day, "she took all the grit out o'him. I couldn't help feelin' sorry for him sometimes."They were sitting in the store door-way together, and Mr. Hobbswas filling his pipe."He oughtn't to 've married," he said solemnly, as he rose toget a match. "Women--I never could see any use in 'em myself."As he took the match from its box, he stopped and looked down onthe counter."Why!" he said, "if here isn't a letter! I didn't see itbefore. The postman must have laid it down when I wasn'tnoticin', or the newspaper slipped over it."He picked it up and looked at it carefully."It's from him!" he exclaimed. "That's the very one it'sfrom!"He forgot his pipe altogether. He went back to his chair quiteexcited and took his pocket-knife and opened the envelope."I wonder what news there is this time," he said.And then he unfolded the letter and read as follows:"Dorincourt Castle"My dear Mr. Hobbs"I write this in a great hury becaus i have something curous totell you i know you will be very mutch suprised my dear frendwhen i tel you. It is all a mistake and i am not a lord and ishall not have to be an earl there is a lady whitch was marid tomy uncle bevis who is dead and she has a little boy and he islord fauntleroy becaus that is the way it is in England the earlseldest sons little boy is the earl if every body else is dead imean if his farther and grandfarther are dead my grandfarther isnot dead but my uncle bevis is and so his boy is lord Fauntleroyand i am not becaus my papa was the youngest son and my name isCedric Errol like it was when i was in New York and all thethings will belong to the other boy i thought at first i shouldhave to give him my pony and cart but my grandfarther says i neednot my grandfarther is very sorry and i think he does not likethe lady but preaps he thinks dearest and i are sorry because ishall not be an earl i would like to be an earl now better than ithout i would at first becaus this is a beautifle castle and ilike every body so and when you are rich you can do so manythings i am not rich now becaus when your papa is only theyoungest son he is not very rich i am going to learn to work sothat i can take care of dearest i have been asking Wilkins aboutgrooming horses preaps i might be a groom or a coachman. thelady brought her little boy to the castle and my grandfarther andMr. Havisham talked to her i think she was angry she talked loudand my grandfarther was angry too i never saw him angry before iwish it did not make them all mad i thort i would tell you andDick right away becaus you would be intrusted so no more atpresent with love from"your old frend"Cedric Errol (Not lord Fauntleroy)."Mr. Hobbs fell back in his chair, the letter dropped on his knee,his pen-knife slipped to the floor, and so did the envelope."Well!" he ejaculated, "I am jiggered!"He was so dumfounded that he actually changed his exclamation.It had always been his habit to say, "I will be jiggered," butthis time he said, "I am jiggered." Perhaps he really wasjiggered. There is no knowing."Well," said Dick, "the whole thing's bust up, hasn't it?""Bust!" said Mr. Hobbs. "It's my opinion it's a put-up job o'the British ristycrats to rob him of his rights because he's anAmerican. They've had a spite agin us ever since the Revolution,an' they're takin' it out on him. I told you he wasn't safe, an'see what's happened! Like as not, the whole gover'ment's gottogether to rob him of his lawful ownin's."He was very much agitated. He had not approved of the change inhis young friend's circumstances at first, but lately he hadbecome more reconciled to it, and after the receipt of Cedric'sletter he had perhaps even felt some secret pride in his youngfriend's magnificence. He might not have a good opinion ofearls, but he knew that even in America money was consideredrather an agreeable thing, and if all the wealth and grandeurwere to go with the title, it must be rather hard to lose it."They're trying to rob him!" he said, "that's what they'redoing, and folks that have money ought to look after him."And he kept Dick with him until quite a late hour to talk itover, and when that young man left, he went with him to thecorner of the street; and on his way back he stopped opposite theempty house for some time, staring at the "To Let," and smokinghis pipe, in much disturbance of mind.