CHAPTER NINE.
BERNARD'S EXPERIMENT, BY ANON.
When the Headmaster sent for Gray Minor, on receipt of a telegram fromhis home, the boys were in great consternation, because they allregarded him as a "ripping good fellow."
"I wonder what's up," said one, and this speech expressed the feeling ofevery boy. Then Gray Minor appeared, white, but determined, and toldthem that, his widowed Mother being suddenly ruined, he would have toleave the school at once.
"I say, Gray, you're such a chap for experiment, perhaps you'll see yourway out of this fix; but, all the same, it's jolly hard lines on you,"said his greatest chum, wringing Gray's hand. The boys expressed theirgrief in different ways, but each was equally sincere, and Gray Minordeparted, universally regretted.
Mrs Gray sat by the fire of the little cottage parlour, a black-edgedletter lying idly between her fingers. Very pale, she had theappearance of one who had passed many sleepless nights. Outside, theNovember sky was overcast, the rain was coming down in torrents, andsad-looking people picked their way down the muddy lane under streamingumbrellas to the railway-station.
Suddenly, a quick, firm footstep sounded on the little garden path, anda boy's round face smiled in at the diamond-paned window like a ray ofbright sunshine. Mrs Gray almost ran to the door. "Bernard, you mustbe drenched!" she cried.
"No, Mother, not a bit of it," he laughed, taking off his streamingmackintosh.
"It is such a dreadful day," she said, but her face had brightenedastonishingly at the sight of her brave boy.
"Yes, but it has put a scheme--a grand scheme in my head! Wait until Iget my wet togs off and I'll tell you."
"An _experiment_?--already! oh, Bernard!" Mrs Gray laughed with actualjoy: her faith in her only son was so unquestioning.
As Bernard came downstairs, the faithful old servant was carrying in asubstantial tea for her young master. "Hullo, Dolly," he cried; "Ihaven't stayed up the remainder of the term, you see."
"Ah, Mr Bernard, it's well you take it so lightly--but it's black ruinthis time and no mistake. My poor mistress has been fretting night andday over it. Whatever is she to do?"
"Trust herself to me," said Bernard valiantly.
Dolly laughed. "Why, you ain't sixteen, Mr Bernard, and not done withyour schooling. But, as parson said, so strange-like, on Sunday, forhis text--`the only son of his mother and she was a widow'--you're allshe has left."
When Mrs Gray and her son were alone she told Bernard the whole historyof their misfortunes. An unfortunate speculation on the part of theirtrustee had left them almost penniless. "There is nothing left to us,"she said, "but this little cottage and seventeen pounds in the cash-box.But, Bernard," she added, "I grieve over nothing but your school. Youhad such a brilliant future, and so many friends."
"Oh, but there were to be so many new fellows next term--nearly all mychums were to leave, so don't grieve over that," answered Bernard,ignoring her words about his future. Then he explained his"experiment."
"I have decided," he said, "to sweep a crossing."
"Sweep a crossing! Ah, that is what so many people say, but they wouldnever do it when it came to the point."
"It's what I mean to do," said Bernard quietly. "It's an inspiration,Mother, I assure you. You say this cottage is freehold, is it not, andworth--how much?"
"I have been offered one hundred pounds for it, but it is too near therailway, and too much out of repair to be valuable."
"We shall do better than that. Do you know how many people go down thisroad daily to the station since all those new villas were built?"
Mrs Gray shook her head.
"Five hundred, and the place is growing like--well, like old boots.Now, Mother, this is my scheme. You know how bad the approach to thestation is. You know, also, that the new asphalt path from the newblocks of houses comes to our very garden gate. Well, people can comeso far without muddying their boots. Now, our garden abuts almost onthe railway-platform, so I propose sweeping a path straight across fromthe road, putting up a gate at each end, and saving people five hundredyards of quagmire, and a good five minutes in time, and a lot ofswear-words, and my charge for all these improvements will be onepenny!"
The next morning, at half-past seven, the new path of forty yards wasswept from end to end, some of the palings were pulled down near therailway-bank, and another small path swept up to the platform.
An old door was placed lengthwise over the front gate and painted white,and on it, in somewhat clumsy printing, was the announcement:--"Quickestway to Endwell Railway-Station. Dry all the way. Admission, onepenny."
About eight o'clock the business men came hurrying along under theirumbrellas, for it was still drizzling. They looked at Bernard in acurious way and then at the signboard, but they scarcely grasped thesituation, and plunged heroically into the five hundred yards of mud.
At nine o'clock a wealthy stockbroker came panting along, late for histrain; so Bernard shouted to him: "Come my way, Mr Blunt; it will saveyou five hundred yards and all that horrid mud!"
"Hullo, Gray; back from school?" he gasped. "What's the idea, eh?"
So Bernard told him his scheme in as few words as possible.
"Then I'll be your first patron, my boy," and Mr Blunt held out ashilling. "There's your first capital."
"Only a penny," laughed Bernard, pushing back the kind hand, andpointing to his signboard.
"Oh, we are proud," said Mr Blunt. "Well, I wish you luck! Throughyou I shall catch my train, and it means a little matter to me to thetune of three hundred pounds."
A week after this, scores of people went through Bernard's gardenmorning and evening, and the whole place rang with his pluckyexperiment. "Four pounds, five and sixpence for the first week, Mother;but we will do better yet," said Bernard.
Many people came through the gates from sheer curiosity, and nearlyeveryone preferred paying him the penny toll, instead of walking thefive hundred yards of uneven road, even on dry days! In the followingspring, Endwell suddenly grew into such an important place that therailway company was compelled to enlarge the station, and a directorbeing informed of Bernard's experiment, and the distinct value of ashorter approach, came to see Mrs Gray about her little property, butshe would not be "talked over" by the smart director. Then anenterprising builder came, and made a very tempting offer. Still sheresisted. At last, however, the railway people offered a price which itwould have been folly to refuse, so Bernard was forced to give up his"scheme."
Mrs Gray now lives in a pretty flat in South Kensington with herfaithful old Dolly, surrounded by many of her former luxuries, but sheis happiest in the possession of such a brave and noble son. Bernard'sfuture is assured, for he showed all the qualities that command successin his last _experiment_.