CHAPTER VI: THE FIRST STEP
All that day Frank tramped the streets. He went into many shops wherehe saw notices that an errand boy was required, but everywhere withoutsuccess. He perceived at once that his appearance was against him, andhe either received the abrupt answer of, "You're not the sort of chapfor my place," or an equally decided refusal upon the grounds thathe did not know the neighborhood, or that they preferred one who hadparents who lived close by and could speak for him.
At six o'clock he rejoined the porter. He brought with him some breadand butter and a piece of bacon. When, on arriving at the lodging ofhis new friend, a neat room with two small beds in it, he produced andopened his parcel, the porter said angrily, "Don't you do that again,young fellow, or we shall have words. You're just coming to stop withme for a bit till you see your way, and I'm not going to have you bringthings in here. My money is good for two months, and your living herewith me won't cost three shillings a week. So don't you hurt my feelingsby bringing things home again. There, don't say no more about it."
Frank, seeing that his companion was really in earnest, said no more,and was the less reluctant to accept the other's kindness as he saw thathis society was really a great relief to him in his trouble. After themeal they sallied out to a second hand clothes shop. Here Frank disposedof his things, and received in return a good suit of clothes fit for aworking lad.
"I don't know how it is," the porter said as they sat togetherafterwards, "but a gentleman looks like a gentleman put him in whatclothes you will. I could have sworn to your being that if I'd neverseen you before. I can't make it out, I don't know what it is, butthere's certainly something in gentle blood, whatever you may sayabout it. Some of my mates are forever saying that one man's as good asanother. Now I don't mean to say they ain't as good; but what I say is,as they ain't the same. One man ain't the same as another any more thana race horse is the same as a cart horse. They both sprang from the samestock, at least so they says; but breeding and feeding and care has madeone into a slim boned creature as can run like the wind, while the otherhas got big bones and weight and can drag his two ton after him withoutturning a hair. Now, I take it, it's the same thing with gentlefolks andworking men. It isn't that one's bigger than the other, for I don't seemuch difference that way; but a gentleman's lighter in the bone, andhis hands and his feet are smaller, and he carries himself altogetherdifferent. His voice gets a different tone. Why, Lord bless you, when Ihears two men coming along the platform at night, even when I can't see'em, and can't hear what they says, only the tone of their voices, Iknows just as well whether it's a first class or a third door as I'vegot to open as if I saw 'em in the daylight. Rum, ain't it?"
Frank had never thought the matter out, and could only give his generalassent to his companion's proposition.
"Now," the porter went on, "if you go into a factory or workshop, I'llbet a crown to a penny that before you've been there a week you'll getcalled Gentleman Jack, or some such name. You see if you ain't."
"I don't care what they call me," Frank laughed, "so that they'll takeme into the factory."
"All in good time," the porter said; "don't you hurry yourself. Aslong as you can stay here you'll be heartily welcome. Just look whata comfort it is to have you sitting here sociable and comfortable. Youdon't suppose I could have sat here alone in this room if you hadn'tbeen here? I should have been in a public house making a beast ofmyself, and spending as much money as would keep the pair of us."
Day after day Frank went out in search of work. In his tramps he visitedscores of workshops and factories, but without success. Either theydid not want boys, or they declined altogether to take one who had noexperience in work, and had no references in the neighborhood. Franktook his breakfast and tea with the porter, and was glad that the latterhad his dinner at the station, as a penny loaf served his purposes. Oneday in his walks Frank entered Covent Garden and stood looking on at thebustle and flow of business, for it happened to be market day. He leanedagainst one of the columns of the piazza, eating the bread he had justbought. Presently a sharp faced lad, a year or two younger than himself,came up to him.
"Give us a hit," he said, "I ain't tasted nothing today."
Frank broke the bread in half and gave a portion to him.
"What a lot there is going on here!" Frank said.
"Law!" the boy answered, "that ain't nothing to what it is of a morning.That's the time, 'special on the mornings of the flower market. It'shard lines if a chap can't pick up a tanner or even a bob then."
"How?" Frank asked eagerly.
"Why, by holding horses, helping to carry out plants, and such like. Youseems a green 'un, you do. Up from the country, eh? Don't seem like oneof our sort."
"Yes," Frank said, "I'm just up from the country. I thought it would beeasy to get a place in London, but I don't find it so."
"A place!" the boy repeated scornfully. "I should like any one to see mein a place. It's better a hundred times to be your own master."
"Even if you do want a piece of bread sometimes?" Frank put in.
"Yes," the boy said. "When it ain't market day and ye haven't savedenough to buy a few papers or boxes of matches it does come hard. Inwinter the times is bad, but in summer we gets on fairish, and thereain't nothing to grumble about. Are you out of work yourself?"
"Yes," Frank answered, "I'm on the lookout for a job."
"You'd have a chance here in the morning," said the boy, looking at him."You look decent, and might get a job unloading. They won't have us atno price, if they can help it."
"I will come and try anyhow," Frank said.
That evening Frank told his friend, the porter, that he thought of goingout early next morning to try and pick up odd jobs at Covent Garden.
"Don't you think of it," the porter said. "There's nothing worse for alad than taking to odd jobs. It gets him into bad ways and bad company.Don't you hurry. I have spoken to lots of my mates, and they're all onthe lookout for you. We on the platform can't do much. It ain't in ourline, you see; but in the goods department, where they are constantwith vans and wagons and such like, they are likely enough to hear ofsomething before long."
That night, thinking matters over in bed, Frank determined to go down tothe docks and see if he could get a place as cabin boy. He had had thisidea in his mind ever since he lost his money, and had only put it asidein order that he might, if possible, get some berth on shore which mightseem likely in the end to afford him a means of making his way up again.It was not that he was afraid of the roughness of a cabin boy's life; itwas only because he knew that it would be so very long before, workinghis way up from boy to able bodied seaman, he could obtain a mate'scertificate, and so make a first step up the ladder. However, he thoughtthat even this would be better than going as a wagoner's boy, and heaccordingly crossed London Bridge, turned down Eastcheap, and presentlyfound himself in Ratcliff Highway. He was amused here at the nauticalcharacter of the shops, and presently found himself staring into awindow full of foreign birds, for the most part alive in cages, amongwhich, however, were a few cases of stuffed birds.
"How stupid I have been!" he thought to himself. "I wonder I neverthought of it before! I can stuff birds and beasts at any rate a dealbetter than those wooden looking things. I might have a chance ofgetting work at some naturalist's shop. I will get a directory and takedown all the addresses in London, and then go around."
He now became conscious of a conversation going on between a little oldman with a pair of thick horn rimmed spectacles and a sailor who had adead parrot and a cat in his hand.
"I really cannot undertake them," the old man said. "Since the death ofmy daughter I have had but little time to attend to that branch. Whatwith buying and selling, and feeding and attending to the live ones, Ihave no time for stuffing. Besides, if the things were poisoned, theywould not be worth stuffing."
"It isn't the question of worth, skipper," the sailor said; "and I don'tsay, mind ye, that these here critturs was pisoned,
only if you looksat it that this was the noisiest bird and the worst tempered thievingestcat in the neighborhood--though, Lord bless you, my missus wouldn'tallow it for worlds--why, you know, when they were both found stiff andcold this morning people does have a sort of a suspicion as how they'vebeen pisoned;" and he winked one eye in a portentous manner, and grinnedhugely. "The missus she's in a nice taking, screeching, and yelling asyou might hear her two cables' length away, and she turns round on meand will have it as I'd a hand in the matter. Well, just to show myinnocence, I offers to get a glass case for 'em and have 'em stuffed,if it cost me a couple of pounds. I wouldn't care if they fell all topieces a week afterwards, so that it pacified the old woman just atpresent. If I can't get 'em done I shall ship at once, for the placewill be too hot to hold me. So you can't do it nohow?"
The old man shook his head, and the sailor was just turning off whenFrank went up to him:
"Will you please wait a moment? Can I speak to you, sir, a minute?" heasked the old man.
The naturalist went into his shop, and Frank followed him.
"I can stuff birds and animals, sir," he said. "I think I really stuffthem well, for some which I did for amusement were sold at ten shillingsa case, and the man who bought them of me told me they would be worthfour times as much in London. I am out of work, sir, and very veryanxious to get my living. You will find me hard working and honest. Dogive me a chance. Let me stuff that cat and parrot for the sailor. Ifyou are not satisfied then, I will go away and charge nothing for it."
The man looked at him keenly.
"I will at any rate give you a trial," he said. Then he went to the doorand called in the sailor. "This lad tells me he can stuff birds. I knownothing about him, but I believe he is speaking truthfully. If you liketo intrust them to him he will do his best. If you're not satisfied hewill make no charge."
Much pleased at seeing a way out of his dilemma, the sailor placed thedead animals on the counter.
"Now," the old man said to Frank, "you can take these out into the backyard and skin them. Then you can go to work in that back room. You willfind arsenical soap, cotton wool, wires, and everything else you requirethere. This has been a fine cat," he said, looking at the animal.
"Yes, it has been a splendid creature," Frank answered. "It is amagnificent macaw also."
"Ah! you know it is a macaw!" the old man said.
"Of course," Frank said simply; "it has a tail."
The old man then furnished Frank with two or three sharp knives andscissors. Taking the bird and cat, he went out into the yard and in thecourse of an hour had skinned them both. Then he returned to the shopand set to work in the room behind.
"May I make a group of them?" he asked.
"Do them just as you like," the old man said.
After settling upon his subject, Frank set to work, and, except thathe went out for five minutes to buy and eat a penny loaf, continued hiswork till nightfall. The old man came in several times to look at him,but each time went out again without making a remark. At six o'clockFrank laid down his tools.
"I will come again tomorrow, sir," he said.
The old man nodded, and Frank went home in high spirits. There was aprospect at last of getting something to do, and that in a line mostcongenial to his own tastes.
The old man looked up when he entered next morning.
"I shall not come in today," he remarked. "I will wait to see themfinished."
Working without interruption till the evening, Frank finished them tohis satisfaction, and enveloped them with many wrappings of thread tokeep them in precisely the attitudes in which he had placed them.
"They are ready for drying now, sir," he said. "If I might place them inan oven they would be dried by morning."
The old man led the way to the kitchen, where a small fire was burning.
"I shall put no more coals on the fire," he said, "and it will be out ina quarter of an hour. Put them in there and leave the door open. I willclose it in an hour when the oven cools."
The next day Frank was again at work. It took him all day to get fur andfeather to lie exactly as he wished them. In the afternoon he asked thenaturalist for a piece of flat board, three feet long, and a perch, butsaid that instead of the piece of board he should prefer mounting themin a case at once. The old man had not one in the shop large enough,and therefore Frank arranged his group temporarily on the table. On theboard lay the cat. At first sight she seemed asleep, but it was clearlyonly seeming. Her eyes were half open, the upper lip was curled up, andthe sharp teeth showed. The hind feet were drawn somewhat under her asin readiness for an instant spring. Her front paws were before her, thetalons were somewhat stretched, and one paw was curved. Her ears layslightly back. She was evidently on the point of springing. The macawperch, which had been cut down to a height of two feet, stood behindher. The bird hung by its feet, and, head downwards, stretched with openbeak towards the tip of the cat's tail, which was slightly uplifted. Ona piece of paper Frank wrote, "Dangerous Play."
It was evening before he had finished perfectly to his satisfaction.Then he called the naturalist in. The old man stopped at the door,surveying the group. Then he entered and examined it carefully.
"Wonderful!" he said. "Wonderful! I should have thought them alive.There is not a shop in the West End where it could have been turned outbetter, if so well.
"Lad, you are a wonder! Tell me now who and what are you? I saw when youfirst addressed me that you were not what you seemed to be, a workinglad."
"I have been well educated," Frank said, "and was taught to preserveand stuff by my father, who was a great naturalist. My parents diedsuddenly, and I was left on my own resources, which," he said, smilingfaintly, "have hitherto proved of very small avail. I am glad you arepleased. If you will take me into your service I will work hard and makemyself useful in every way. If you require references I can refer youto the doctor who attended us in the country; but I have not a singlefriend in London except a railway porter, who has most kindly andgenerously taken me in and sheltered me for the last two months."
"I need no references," the old man said; "your work speaks for itselfas to your skill, and your face for your character. But I can offeryou nothing fit for you. With such a genius as you have for setting upanimals, you ought to be able to earn a good income. Not one man in athousand can make a dead animal look like a live one. You have the knackor the art."
"I shall be very content with anything you can give me," Frank said;"for the present I only ask to earn my living. If later on I can, as yousay, do more, all the better."
The old man stood for some time thinking, and presently said, "I do butlittle except in live stock. When I had my daughter with me I did agood deal of stuffing, for there is a considerable trade hereabout. Thesailors bring home skins of foreign birds, and want them stuffed and putin cases, as presents for their wives and sweethearts. You work fast aswell as skillfully. I have known men who would take a fortnight to dosuch a group as that, and then it would be a failure. It will be quite anew branch for my trade. I do not know how it will act yet, but to beginwith I will give you twelve shillings a week, and a room upstairs. Ifit succeeds we will make other arrangements. I am an old man, and a verylonely one. I shall be glad to have such a companion."
Frank joyfully embraced the offer, and ran all the way home to tell hisfriend, the porter, of the engagement.
"I am very glad," the man said; "heartily glad. I shall miss you sorely.I do not know what I should have done without you when I first lost poorJane and the kids. But now I can go back to my old ways again."
"Perhaps," Frank suggested, "you might arrange to have a room also inthe house. It would not be a very long walk, not above twenty or fiveand twenty minutes, and I should be so glad to have you with me."
The man sat silent for a time. "No," he said at last, "I thank you allthe same. I should like it too, but I don't think it would be best inthe end. Here all my mates live near, and I shall get on in time. TheChristmas holiday
season will soon be coming on and we shall be upworking late. If you were always going to stop at the place you aregoing to, it would be different; but you will rise, never fear. I shallbe seeing you in gentleman's clothes again some of these days. I'veheard you say you were longing to get your books and to be studyingagain, and you'll soon fall into your own ways; but if you will let me,I'll come over sometimes and have a cup of tea and a chat with you. Now,look here, I'm going out with you now, and I'm going to buy you a suitof clothes, something like what you had on when I first saw you. Theywon't be altogether unsuitable in a shop. This is a loan, mind, and youmay pay me off as you get flush."
Frank saw he should hurt the good fellow's feelings by refusing, andaccordingly went out with him, and next morning presented himself at theshop in a quiet suit of dark gray tweed, and with his other clothes in abundle.
"Aha!" said the old man; "you look more as you ought to do now, thoughyou're a cut above an assistant in a naturalist's shop in RatcliffHighway. Now, let me tell you the names of some of these birds. Theyare, every one of them, foreigners; some of them I don't know myself."
"I can tell all the family names," Frank said quietly, "and the species,but I do not know the varieties."
"Can you!" the old man said in surprise. "What is this now?"
"That is a mockingbird, the great black capped mockingbird, I think. Theone next to it is a golden lory."
So Frank went round all the cages and perches in the shop.
"Right in every case," the old man said enthusiastically; "I shall havenothing to teach you. The sailor has been here this morning. I offeredhim two pounds for the cat and bird to put in my front window, but hewould not take it, and has paid me that sum for your work. Here it is.This is yours, you know. You were not in my employment then, and youwill want some things to start with, no doubt. Now come upstairs, I willshow you your room. I had intended at first to give you the one at theback, but I have decided now on giving you my daughter's. I think youwill like it."
Frank did like it greatly. It was the front room on the secondfloor. The old man's daughter had evidently been a woman of taste andrefinement. The room was prettily papered, a quiet carpet covered thefloor, and the furniture was neat and in good keeping. Two pairs ofspotless muslin curtains hung across the windows.
"I put them up this morning," the old man said, nodding. "I have got thesheets and bedding airing in the kitchen. They have not been out of thepress for the last three years. You can cook in the kitchen. There isalways a fire there.
"Now, the first thing to do," he went on when they returned to the shop,"will be for you to mount a dozen cases for the windows. These drawersare full of skins of birds and small animals. I get them for nextto nothing from the sailors, and sell them to furriers and featherpreparers, who supply ladies' hat and bonnet makers. In future, Ipropose that you shall mount them and sell them direct. We shall get farhigher prices than we do now. I seem to be putting most of the work onyour shoulders, but do not want you to help me in the shop. I will lookafter the birds and buy and sell as I used to do; you will have the backroom private to yourself for stuffing and mounting."
Frank was delighted at this allotment of labor, and was soon at workrummaging the drawers and picking out specimens for mounting, and madea selection sufficient to keep him employed for weeks. That evening hesallied out and expended his two pounds in underlinen, of which he wassorely in need. As he required them his employer ordered showcases forthe window, of various sizes, getting the backgrounds painted and fittedup as Frank suggested.
Frank did not get on so fast with his work as he had hoped, for the fameof the sailor's cat and macaw spread rapidly in the neighborhood, andthere was a perfect rush of sailors and their wives anxious to havebirds and skins, which had been brought from abroad, mounted. The sailorhimself looked in one day.
"If you like another two pounds for that 'ere cat, governor, I'm gameto pay you. It's the best thing that ever happened to me. Every one'swanting to see 'em, and there's the old woman dressed up in her Sundayclothes a-sitting in the parlor as proud as a peacock a showing of 'emoff. The house ain't been so quiet since I married. Them animals wouldbe cheap to me at a ten pound note. They'll get you no end of orders, Ican tell you."
The orders, indeed, came in much faster than Frank could fulfill them,although he worked twelve hours a day; laying aside all other work,however, for three hours in order to devote himself to the shop cases,which were to be chef d'oeuvres.