The Fortunate Youth

turday afternoon in August. It was not dramatic. It wa

ack-winged dragon with belly of flame brooding over the town. The place wore an especial air of desolation. Paul felt depressed. Bathing in the pouring wet is a chilly sport, and his midday meal of cold potatoes had not been invigorating. These he had grabbed, and, having done them up hastily in newspaper, had bolted with them out of the house. He had been fined heavily for slackness during the week, and Mr. Button's inevitable wrath at docked wages he desired to undergo as late as possible. Then, the sun had blazed furiously during the last six im

d the small, melancholy figure, and then, hopping from his pe

ned nose, and little round moist dark eyes that glittered like diamonds. He wore cloth cap on the back of his head, showing in fro

worthy's kid, ain

said

own Budge Street, stopping at houses here and there. About two years ago, coming home, he had met it at his own door. His mother and

nt him with twopence for a pint of beer to the public-house at the end of the street. He recall

beer for yo

an taste it now." He made a wry face. Then he cocked his head

Paul. "Wh

? I'm known on the road from Taunton to Newcastle and from He

comic idea of giving his mother unsolici

en, after a pause, "What

g," sai

ave a lo

was kindliness in the twinkling glance.

"it ain't got no beginning and no end. It's

Paul. "It

er think

ding the title-page, to say nothing of a hundred pages at

o," s

alter

was one of those bright names that starred in his historical darkne

ure? Sir Wa

n nodded. "Think I'd tell yer a lie? I do a bit of reading myself in the old 'bu

ese? Paul started off

, I'd go melancholy mad and bus

d a spiritual brother. It

s that don't hold with boo

d, precipie

e good of books? Give me nature,' and they goes and asks for i

ther," s

d his frie

, what marr

boozes a l

ionistic and lurid p

they

lly-o,"

f galley containing cooking stove, kettle and pot. There were shelves, some filled with stock-in-trade, others with miscellaneous things, the nature of which he could not distinguish in the gloom. Barney Bill presently turned and dumped an armful of books on the footboard an inch

more, but I can

an of great possessions. "How long are yo

nrise to

He seemed to hav

or a huge pork pie and a clasp knife which lay beside a tin can. "I'll go on with my supper,

hile in silence, dangling their legs. Now and again the host passed the tin of tea to wash down the food. The flaming drago

ou to be ge

mother would be far too much occupied with Mr. Button to worry about him. Chastisement would then be postponed till the

said Barney Bill. "She

and the erstwhile Grand Llama of Budge Street, and drawing a dismal picture of the factory. Barney Bill listened comprehendingly. Then, smoking a well-blackened clay, he began to utter maledictions on the suffocating life in towns and to extol his own manner of living. Having an appreciative aud

oor, looked up at them, enthralled by the talk of Barney Bill. The vagabond merchant had the slight drawling inflec

losophically. "Some folks prefer gas to laylock. I

aylock?"

lilac bloomed in the blig

t smell

ringa and the new-mown hay and th

ew and vague horizons. "I once smelled summa

mean a

Like what y

good; like violets-some on 'e

other, Paul said almost without volitio

, sitting up with a jerk that sho

ed the star

the other, "don't yer

ous attempts to pierce t

d she now? That's

disowned her with re

laid a bony hand on the boy's shoulder. "Who do you t

not?" s

? You're a blooming lucky kid. I wish I

ed Paul, th

my 'igh-bo

asked

s skinned and yer ears standing up, you can learn where they are. Lor' lumme! I wouldn't be a little nigger slave in a factory if I was the missin' heir. Not much. I wouldn't be starved and beaten by Sam and Polly Button. Not me. D'ye

Paul, in dizzy contemp

ing to start?" a

list. The thrill of independence swept him from head to f

amcar; and the red, remorseless glow of here and there a furnace that never was extinct in the memory of man. And, save for the far shriek of trains, the less remote and more frequent clanging of passing tramcars along the road edged with the skeleton cottages, and, startlingly near, the vain munching and dull footfall o

om the footboard. "You stay h

the day is the physical thereof. And when a man like Barney Bill is unencumbered by the continuous feminine, the ordinary solution of life is simple. But now the man had to switch his mind back to times before Paul was born, when the eternal feminine had played the very devil with him, when all sorts of passions and emotions had whirled his untrained being into dizziness.

nd to go in search of

said

yer a lift, say,

he quivered all over like one who beholds the god. The abstract nebulous romance of

mself with his back and

e to Paul. "You can make up a bed on the floor of the old 'bus with some of th

made. He threw himself down. The resilient surface of the mats was luxury after the sacking on the

heart. He sprang to his feet. "Mister," he cried in the darkness

t better of it already? Well, go, t

m back,"

e rat," said Barney Bil

Paul indignantly. "I

re. If you go home they'll nab you and whack you for staying out late, and lock you up, and you'll not

back,"

t. Good mind not

s the handful of silver and copper that was his week's wages, and, groping in th

s far away. Barney Bill put the money on the shelf and looked at it in a puzzled way. Was it an earnest of the boy's return, or was it a bribe to let him go? The former hypothesis seemed untenable, for if he got nabbed his penniless condition would be such an aggravation of his offence as to call down upon him a more ferocious punishment than he need have risked. And why in the name of sanity did he want to go home? To kis

ty morning air. Then he let himself down and proceeded to the back of the van, where stood a pail of water and a tin basin, his simple washing apparatus. Having sluiced head and neck and dried them with something resembling a towel, he hooked up the pail, stowed the basin in a rack, unslung a nosebag, which he attached to the head of the old

Bill, taking off his cap a

m. He listened. There was another. The moans were those of a sleeper. He bent down a

just jiggered. Here, you-

ed, grabbed at something on the ground bes

g you be

o hours,"

n't yer

to disturb th

er go

said

the

ater command of language, could he describe the awful terror that shook his soul when he opened the fro

rvened. How he had to wait-interminable hours-until the house was quiet. How he had stumbled over things in the drunken disorder of the kitchen floor, dreading to arouse the four elder little Buttons who slept in the room. How narrowl

caught ye, what would

led me,"

d looked at him out of his twinkling eyes.

r do it for

t a grubby palm in which lay

it. "Wot the blazes

having come across the word in a book,

s for that bit of stuff yer ran the risk of

he superficial contemptuousness of the words. "I'd ha' gon

" said Barne

taking from his pocket his lit

gravely. "I think you'd

hy

s yer identity,"

t's

med of the fact, would raise a hue-and-cry. The cards, if found, would be

' nowt to do with the pol

loved the trivial encomiums inscribed thereon. They would impress be

nd now get in and let us clear out of this place. It smelts like a cheese with an escape of gas running through

ittle window, facing south, gazing toward the unknown region at the end of which lay London, city of dreams. He was not quite fourteen. His destiny was before him, and to the fulfilment thereof he saw no hindrance. No more would the remorseless factory hook catch him from his sleep and swing him into the relentless machine. Never again, would he hear his mother's shrewish voice or feel her heavy, greasy hand about his ears. He was free-free to read, free to sleep, free to talk, free

on, he withdrew his head. Presently he lay down on the couch, and, soothed by the jogging of the v