The History of David Grieve

rd he could hear occasional voices. The children were sitting there, he supposed. It gave him a sensation of pleasure once to hear a shrill laugh, which he knew was Louie's. For all this morning

there was a great difference. Moreover, certain passages in the chapel prayers that morning had come home sharply to a mind whereof the only definite gift was a true religious sensitiveness. The text of the sermon especially-'Whoso loveth not his brother, whom he hath seen, how shall he love God,

ng life under fairly prosperous circumstances. James Grieve took service with them, and they valued his strong sinews and stern Calvinistic probity as they deserved. But he had hardly been two years on the farm when his young employer, dozing one winter evening on the shafts of his cart coming back from Glossop market, fell off, was run over, and killed. The widow, a young thing, nearly lost her senses with grief, and James, a man of dour exterior and few words, set himself to keep things going on the farm till she was able to look life in the face again. Her sister came to be with her, and there, was a child born, which died. She was left better provided for than most women of her class, and she had expectations from he

which she ultimately died. But the small farmer who employs little or no labour is lost without an active wife. If he has to pay for the milking of his cows, the making of his butter, the cooking of his food, and the nursing of his children, his little margin of profit is soon eaten away; and with the disappearance of this margin, existence becomes a blind struggle. Even

where he was apprenticed to a rope-maker, a cousin of his mother's. This man died before Sandy was more than halfway through his time, and the youth went through a period of hardship and hand-to-mouth living which ended at last in the usual tramp to London. Here, after a period of semi-starvation, he found it impossible to get work at his own trade,

his bread. The tall, finely grown, famished-looking lad spoke with a natural eloquence, and here and there with a Biblical force of phrase-the inheritance of his Scotch blood and training-which

es with work and anxiety, his wife with sickness-read it together. They shut it up without a word. Its tone of jubilant hope seemed to have nothing to do with them, or seemed rather to make their own narrowing prospects look more narrow, and the approach of the King of Terrors more black and relentless, than before. Jenny lay back on her poor bed, with the tears of a dumb self-pity running down her cheeks, and James's only answer to it was conveyed in a brief summons to Sandy to come and see his mother before the end. The prosperous son, broadened out of knowledge almost by good feeding and good clothes, arrived. He brought money, which was accepted without much thanks; but his mother treated him almost as a stranger, and the dour James, whil

nking, with a relief which every now and then roused in him a pang of shame, that in fourteen or fifteen more hours he should be back in London, in the world which made

an

or he had been sunk in his own tho

d get a wi

shall,' he said, with a change of exp

gan again, slow and feebly, but with

't grudge it her. Women 'ud

den irrepressible sob. There was a faint lightening in the little wrinkled face, and the lips made a movement. He kiss

upposed intrigue, and then put an end to himself. Naturally the whole establishment was scattered, and the pretty Louise Suveret found herself alone, with a few pounds, in London. Thanks to the kind offices of the book-keeper in the hotel where they had been staying, she had been introduced to a milliner of repute in the Bond Street region, and the results of a trial given her, in which her natural Frenchwoman's gift and her acquired skill came out triumphant, led to her being permanently engaged. Thenceforward her good spirits-which had be

plain girl-companion, and her manner, though conscious and provocative, had that haughtiness, that implied readiness to take offence, which is the grisette's substitute for breeding. She was, however, affable to Sandy, whose broad shoulders and handsome, well-to-do air attracted her atten

m to give her as many presents of gloves, ribbons, bonbons-for which last she had a childish passion-and the like, as he pleased. But when he pressed her to marry him she generally laughed at him. She was, in reality, observing her world, calculating her chances, and she had several other strings to her bow, as Sandy shrewdly suspected, though she never allowed his jealousy any information to feed upon. It was simply owing to the failure of the most promising of th

d in her a paganism so unblushing that his own Scotch and Puritan instincts reacted in a sort of superstitious fear. It seemed impossible that God Almighty should long allow Himself to be flouted as Louise flouted Him. He found also that the sense of truth was almost non-existent in her, and her vanity, her greed of dress and admiration, was so consuming, so

he knew, had begun to hate him; in business his energies failed him, and his employers cooled towards him as he grew visibly less pushing and inventive. The little household got deeper and deeper into debt, and towards the end of the time Louise would sometimes spend the whole day away from home without a word of explanation. So great was his nervous terror-strong, broad fellow that he was-of that pent-up fury in her, which a touch might have unloosed, that he never questioned her. At last the inevitable end came. He got home one summer evening to find the house empty and ransack

was already at school, with his lesson for the next day, or fed Louie, perched on his knee, with the bits from his plate demanded by her covetous eyes and open mouth, he got back, little by little, his self-respect. He returned, too, in the evenings to some of his old pu

d tattered letter, and showing Sandy the address, asked if it was for him. Sandy, on seeing it, stood up, put down Louie, who, half undressed, had been having

s she?'

briefly-'picked up two hours ago.

dy with peculiar horror was that one delicate wrist was broken, having probably struck something in falling. She-who in life had rebelled so hotly against the least shadow of physical pain! Thanks to the bandage which had been pa

ould throw herself. She asked him, callously, for money to take her back to some Nice relations. They need only know what she chose to tell them, as she calmly pointed out, and, once in Nice, she could make a

stroyed herself-could have faced that awful plunge-that icy water-that death-struggle for breath. He gauged the misery she must have gone through by what he knew of her sensuous love for comfort, for bien-être. He saw her again as she had been that night at the theatre when they first met,-the little crisp black curls on the temples, the dazzlin

n, if it existed, would have been difficult to trace. Still, if little David could have put his experiences at this time into words,

's figure bowed over the warmth, thrown out dark against the distempered wall, and sitting on there hour after hour; of a child, wakened intermittently by the light, and tormented by the recurrent sound, till it had once more burrowed into the bed-clothes deep enough to shut out everything but sleep. All these memories belonged to the time immediately following on Louise's suicide. Probably, during the interval between his wife's death and his own, Sandy suffered severely from the effects of strong nervous shock, coupled with a certain growth of reli

absolutely certain, he sent post-haste for his brother Reuben. Reuben he believe

ch he had never seen. Sandy looked at him with a deep inward dissatisfaction. But what could he do? His marri

fe, Reuben,' he said, wh

inute, apparently col

r luve, and she hopes iv it's the Lord's wil

this final moment of humanity the soul had taken refuge in numbness-apathy. Let God decide. He could think it out no more; and in this utter feebleness his terror of

r?' he asked, fixing Reuben with his e

osed, and cleared his

all just coomfortable atween

rong?' dema

n fid

r house to hersel when she's fust married. He wor childish like, an mighty trooblesome

by his own hearth, and ministered to by a daughter-in-law who grudged him his years and his infirmities, as he had grudged his wife all the troublesome incidents of her

re for some ten or twelve hours now he had remained glued, refusing to touch either breakfast or dinner, and then towards Louie, who was on the floor by the

already cold. The nurse in the far corner of the room, lo

right, his gnarled and wrinkle

th energy. 'Gie 'em to us, Sandy. Yo w

ides, in spite of his last assertion, he knew

t by for the children. None of the shop-folk or the fellows at the club ever came here. We lived as we liked. There's an insurance, and there's some savings, and there's some commission money owing from the firm, and there's a bit investment Mr. Gurney (naming the head part

Six hundred pounds! Who'd have thought it of Sand

o want Davy t

feeart'(the old Derbyshire word slipped out unawares)'he'll not stay in the country. He's too sharp, and you mustn't force him. If you see he's not the farming sort, when he's thirteen or fourteen or so, take Mr. Gurney's advice, and b

h a startling energy the dying man raised himself

r childer, Sandy?' cried Reuben,

houghts returning painfully to his son. 'I'm feeart he'll not stay wi

ate. Under the prick of them Reuben found a t

our Maaker! and yo feeace t' feeace wi 'un!' he crie

its last cry of agony to heaven at the words. The sinews of the

lemn, lingering gaze took in the childish face, the thick, tumbled hair, the expression, so piteous, yet so intelligent. Then he put up his own large hand, and took both the boy's into its cold and feeble grasp. His eyelids fell, and the breathing changed. The nurse hurriedly rose, lifted up Loui

. He told her that he was bringing the children back with him. The poor bairns had got nobody in the world to look to but their un

fingers had penned that last senten

dark, and Davy, with his hands tucked between his knees, grew ever more and more silent, his restless little head turning perpetually from side to s

lane, the back door of the farm was opene

oice that spoke. 'Bring 'em into t'back kitchen, an le

the barefooted trio entered the front kitchen together. Hannah came forward and looked at the children-at David white and blinking-at the four-year-old Louie, b

a cold,' said Reuben-

straight and cleaned mysel. They can sit down and warm theirsels. I conno say they feature ony of yor belongins, Reuben.' And she went to put Louie on

she threw herself kicking on the floor, while, to Hannah's exasperation, a piece of crumbling bun

he mistress of the house commanded angrily. 'She

ut to bed, so exhausted with rage, excitement, and the journey, that sleep mercifully took possession of her just after she had per

ier, with its red baize doors under a brass trellis-work; at the high wooden settle, the framed funeral cards, and the two or three coloured prints, now brown with age, which Reuben had hung

, more graciously than she had spoken yet. 'It's

ord of her north-country dialect-' I'm not hungry.-You've got a picture of General Washington there, ma'am;'

th a stare of astonishment. 'Yo

back, on an old wooden bedstead, which stood solitary in a wilderness of bare boards; David in a sort of cupboard off the landing, which got most of its light and

aw, Hannah; praps we might save soom on it for t' childer. Their keep, iv yo feed em on pa

ate wish to do his duty to Sandy's orphans, fighting with a dread of h

conspicuous gap in its front teeth, and his stubby hair, he was more than usually grotesque. 'As slamp an wobbly as an owd corn-boggart,' so his neighbours described him when they wished to be disrespectful, and the simile fitted very closely with the dishevelled, disjointed appearance which was at all times characteristic o

but me, I should loike to know? Who'll ha to put up wi their messin an their dirt but me? Twenty year ha yo an I been married, Reuben, an niver till this ne

ainful thrift, the childless pair had earned a sufficient living in the past-nay, even put by a bit, if the truth of Hannah's savings-bank deposits were known. But every fluctuation in their small profits tried them sorely-tried Hannah especially, whose temper was of the brooding and grasping order. The certainty of Mr. Gurney's cheques

ng which had been the rule for all the remoter farms of the Peak-nay, for the whole north country-in his father's time, and had been made doubly binding, as it were, on the dwellers in Needham Farm by James Grieve's Scotch blood and habits, had survived under their roof,

ng it day after day, till the sharp, wilful face had grown pale and pinched with famine, and caring no more apparently for her aunt's beatings than she did for the clumsy advances by which her uncle would sometimes try to propitiate her. There had bee

strong lass now, if she were a bit thin and overgrow

vi

his pocket, and went to hang over the garden-gate, that he might un

ster. He and Grieve liked one another. If there had been intrigues raised against the mini

d, 'Will you let me have a word with you, Mr. Grieve, ab

id Reuben hastily, but w

ble boy there-a curious and remarkable

of manner that struck his interrogator. 'He be varra useful to me on t' farm, Mr. Ancrum. Soom toimes i' t'

tle speech was curious. Mr. Ancrum di

, if I may say so, it will pay you very well to recognise it in good time. That boy will read books now which hardly any gr

mmon cliver wi his books,

m. You say he's useful, but-excuse me, Mr. Grieve-he seems to me to spend three parts of his time in loafing and desultory reading. He wants more

ad from Clough End to the high farms under the Scout, a road which tried the minister's infirm limb sever

you that, Mr. Grieve. And he could carry on his education there, too, a bit-what with evening classes and lectures, and the different libraries

the farmer. At last the minister turned back, saying, as he shook hands, 'Well, let me know if I can be of any use. I have a good many friends in Manchester. I tell you that's a boy to be proud of, Mr. Gr

his Sunday morning. As he stood, miserably pulling at his pipe, the whole prospect of sloping field, and steep distant moor, gradually vanished from his eyes, and, instead, he saw t

, that he had never been easy in his mind since Sandy's orphans came to the house. On the one hand, his wife had had her w

e to Mr. Gurney about it without her leave? Once upset the system of things on which those two half-yearly cheques depended, how man

unday school at Clough End since dinner, and were now in consequence in a state of restless animal spirits. Louie was swinging violently on the gate which barred

ng her feet and steadying herself as she sat on the topmost bar of the gate by a grip on either side, leant hard on her hands and watched her uncl

in school?' began Reuben, affectin

interbotham from Halif

edifyi

king up a stone again, he flung it at a tree trunk opposite, with a ce

away at his pipe and felt the pleasantness of the spring sunshine which streamed

ed with emphasis. 'He said it wor Al

ind were going, he could but lie low. However, Davi

If yo wor at a trade now, or a mill-hand, or summat o' tha

nce, with his keen black e

onyways,' he said, shortl

the top of the gate. 'Theer's heaps o' boys no

of the mill-life on which Clough End and the other small towns and villages in the neighbourhood existed. The thought of the long monotonous hours at

er of manner. 'I'm real glad. So yo take to the farmin, Davy? Wal, it's nateral. All yor forbears-

commit himself in any way. He w

heer's Harry Wigson, he's gone to Manchester to

d anxiously at David. The boy coloured furio

ted for prenticin,

about 'not gien 'em ony high noshuns o' theirsels,' aided on Reuben's side by the natural secretiveness of the peasan

, shaking already with incipient a

a trade, lad?' he said

ught sight of the great peak of Kinder Low in the distance, beyond the green swells of meadowland,-the heathery slop

o; I can't say as I am. I l

f, he shook himself free of his uncle and walked away.

my gell,

the child,

o heer,

ut down his pipe, and fumbled in his waistcoat pocket

said, dropping his voice almost to a whi

coin. Uncle Reuben might be counted on for a certain num

se but Providence as gave it yo. So get yorsel soom bull's-eyes, Louie, an-an'-he looked a little conscious as he slipped t

s it seemed to Louie, he was looking at what she had on, nay

your Sunday

flushing scarlet, 'b

scorn. It was a worn and patched garment of brown

s. 'It's got naw holes 'at I can see, but it's not varra smart, perhaps. Satan's varra a

r skirt, looking cautiously up and

rt nor owd Croker, soa they say, I'st save yo five shillin for a frock, chilt. Yo can goo an buy it, an I'st

, and to her understanding of both his and her situation. Louie's cheeks wer

ant sixpence farthin,-but Annie Wigson says yo could bate 'em a bit. But what's t' us

not rebuke it. For the first time he and

o get it made?' He was beginning to f

I can do for her; she'd not want no payin, an she's fearfu' good

yo gie naw trooble, an we'st see. B

d his rough cheek. There was no natural childish effusiveness in the action. F

the highest spirits. What a mercy he had not bothered Hannah with Mr. An

vid, who came hastily out of

' and he pointed up the lane towards the main ridge of th

stopped b

ason too. They drownded an owd witch theer i' my grand-feyther's time-I've heerd my grandmither tell th' tale on't scores o' times.

running up

said the boy,-'wh

art to goo onywhere near it on those neets. But doan't yo goo listenin to tales, Davy,' said Reuben, with a paterna

nded Louie, scornfully.

rowned a

t Jenny Crum an Needham Farm i' th' owd days. I've heerd my grandmither say it worn't worth a Christian man's while to live in Needham Farm when Jenny Crum wor about. She meddled wi everythin-wi his lambs, an his coos, an his childer. I niver seed n

tch's Pool at aw,' said Louie, obstin

Hammer-dry-ad,"' said David,

cout wheer they aren't wanted. To hear ony yan o' them talk, yo'd think theer wor only three fellows like

airs of superiority towards any other human being whatever. But in the case of the Manchester clerks and warehousemen, who came tramping over the grouse moors which Reuben

ody 'at went up on Eas

en hung on

deep into the waves of memory of late years, and his slow mind had some difficulty

gate theer, as white an slamp as a puddin cloth oop on eend; an I browt him in, an was for gien him soom tay. An yor aunt, she gien him a warld o' good advice about his gooins on. But bless yo, he didn't tak in a word o' 't. An for th' tay, he'd naw sooner swallowed it than he runs out, as quick as leetnin, an browt it aw up. He wor fairly clemme

' asked David, eagerly,

sh's tail-'at's what he s

of his confidence in the Almighty's increased goodwill towards the present dispens

interval; and then opening the yard gate he went off on his usual

promise and the mermaid story as the Manchester man had delivered it. You had but to see her and wish, and, according to the Manchester man and his book, you got your wish. The child's hatred of sermo

and tapped him peremptorily on the arm. 'I'm gooin up theer Easter

s,' said David firmly; '

ithout me-I'd te

rily. 'Yo'll get your death, an Aunt Hannah 'll be stick

nnah too much might, indeed, endanger the bl

e said, tossing her

tations. It took all the tragic and mysterious edge off an adventure he had set his heart on that