Read Sturdy and Strong; Or, How George Andrews Made His Way Page 7


  CHAPTER VII.

  SAVED!

  "Now let us have a look at the basket, mother," George said as Mrs.Andrews returned into the room after seeing her two visitors off."It's very kind of him, isn't it? and I am glad he didn't offer usmoney; that would have been horrid, wouldn't it?"

  "I am glad he did not, too, George. Mr. Penrose is evidently agentleman of delicacy and refinement of feeling, and he saw that hewould give pain if he did so."

  "You see it too, don't you, Bill?" George asked. "You know you thoughtI was a fool not to take money when he offered it for getting back thelocket; but you see it in the same way now, don't you?"

  "Yes; I shouldn't have liked to take money," Bill said. "I sees----"

  "See," Mrs. Andrews corrected.

  "Thank you. I see things different--differently," he correctedhimself, seeing that George was about to speak, "to what I did then."

  "Now, mother," George said, "let us open the basket; it's almost asbig as a clothes-basket, isn't it?"

  The cover was lifted and the contents, which had after much thoughtbeen settled by Nelly herself, were disclosed. There were two bottlesof port-wine, a large mold of jelly, a great cake, two dozen oranges,some apples, a box of preserved fruit, some almonds and raisins, twopackets of Everton toffee, a dozen mince-pies, and four pots ofblack-currant jelly, on the cover of one of which was written in asprawling hand, "Two teaspoonfuls stirred up in a tumbler of water fora drink at night."

  "This will make a grand feast, mother; what a jolly collection, isn'tit? I think Miss Penrose must have chosen it herself, don't you?"

  "It certainly looks like it, George," Mrs. Andrews replied, smiling."I do not think any grownup person would have chosen mince-pies andtoffee as appropriate for sick boys."

  "Yes; but she must have known we were not badly burned, mother; andbesides, you see, she put in currant-jelly to make drinks, and thereare the oranges too. I vote that we have an orange and some toffee atonce, Bill."

  "I have tasted oranges," Bill said, "lots of them in the market, but Inever tasted toffee."

  "It's first-rate, I can tell you."

  "Why, they look like bits of tin," Bill said as the packet was opened.

  George burst into a laugh.

  "That's tin-foil, that's only to wrap it up; you peel that off, Bill,and you will find the toffee inside. Now, mother, you have a glass ofwine and a piece of cake."

  "I will have a piece of cake, George; but I am not going to open thewine. We will put that by in case of illness or of any veryextraordinary occasion."

  "I am glad the other things won't keep, mother, or I expect you wouldbe wanting to put them all away. Isn't this toffee good, Bill?"

  "First-rate," Bill agreed. "What is it made of?"

  "Sugar and butter melted together over the fire."

  "You are like two children," Mrs. Andrews laughed, "instead of boysgetting on for sixteen years old. Now I must clear this table againand get to work; I promised these four bonnets should be sent into-morrow morning, and there's lots to be done to them yet."

  It was three weeks before the boys were able to go to work again. Theforeman came round on Saturdays with their wages. Mr. Penrose calledagain; this time they were out, but he chatted for some time with Mrs.Andrews.

  "I don't wish to pry into your affairs, Mrs. Andrews," he said, afterasking about the boys; "but I have a motive for asking if your sonhas, as I suppose he has, from his way of speaking, had a faireducation."

  "He was at school up to the age of twelve," Mrs. Andrews said quietly;"circumstances at that time obliged me to remove him; but I havesince done what I could myself towards continuing his education, andhe still works regularly of an evening."

  "Why I ask, Mrs. Andrews, was that I should like in time to place himin the counting-house. I say in time, because I think it will bebetter for him for the next two or three years to continue to work inthe shops. I will have him moved from shop to shop so as to learnthoroughly the various branches of the business. That is what I shoulddo had I a son of my own to bring into the business. It will make himmore valuable afterwards, and fit him to take a good position eitherin my shops or in any similar business should an opening occur."

  "I am greatly obliged to you, sir," Mrs. Andrews said gratefully;"though I say it myself, a better boy never lived."

  "I am sure he is by what I have heard of him, and I shall be only tooglad, after the service he has rendered me, to do everything in mypower to push him forward. His friend, I hear, has not had the sameadvantages. At the time I first saw him he looked a regular youngarab."

  "So he was, sir; but he is a fine young fellow. He was very kind to myboy when he was alone in London, and gave up his former life to bewith him. George taught him to read before I came here, and he hasworked hard ever since. No one could be nicer in the house than he is,and had I been his own mother he could not be more dutiful or anxiousto please. Indeed I may say that I am indebted for my home here asmuch to him as to my own boy."

  "I am glad to hear you say so, Mrs. Andrews, for of course I shouldwish to do something for him too. At any rate, I will give him, likeyour son, every opportunity of learning the business, and he will intime be fit for a position of foreman of a shop--by no means a bad onefor a lad who has had such a beginning as he has had. After that, ofcourse, it must depend upon himself. I think, if you will allow me tosuggest, it would be as well that you should not tell them the natureof our conversation. Of course it is for you to decide; but, howeversteady boys they are, it might make them a little less able to get onwell with their associates in a shop if they know that they are goingto be advanced."

  "I don't think it would make any difference to them, sir; but at thesame time I do think it would be as well not to tell them."

  One day Bill was out by himself as the men were coming out of theshop, and he stopped to speak to Bob Grimstone.

  "Oh! I am glad to find you without George," Bob said; "'cause I wantto talk to you. Look here! the men in all the shops have made asubscription to give you and George a present. Everyone feels thatit's your doing that we have not got to idle all this winter, and whensomeone started the idea there wasn't a man in the two shops thatdidn't agree with him. I am the treasurer, I am, and it's come tojust thirty pounds. Now I don't know what you two boys would like,whether you would like it in money, or whether you would like it insomething else, so I thought I would ask you first. I thought youwould know what George would like, seeing what friends you are, andthen you know it would come as a surprise to him. Now, what do yousay?"

  "Its very kind of you," Bill said. "I am sure George would likeanything better than money, and so should I."

  "Well, you think it over, Bill, and let me know in a day or two. Wewere thinking of a watch for each of you, with an inscription, sayingit was presented to you by your shopmates for having saved thefactory, and so kept them at work for months just at the beginning ofwinter. That's what seemed to me that you would like; but if there isanything you would like better, just you say so. You come down hereto-morrow or next day, when you have thought it over, and give me ananswer. Of course you can consult George if you think best."

  Bill met Bob Grimstone on the following day.

  "I have thought it over," he said, "and I know what George and mewould like better than any possible thing you could get."

  "Well, what is it, Bill?"

  "Well, what we have set our minds on, and what we were going to saveup our money to get, was a piano for George's mother. I heard her saythat we could get a very nice one for about thirty pounds, and itwould be splendid if you were all to give it her."

  "Very well, Bill, then a piano it shall be. I know a chap as works atKirkman's, and I expect he will be able to give us a good one for themoney."

  Accordingly on the Saturday afternoon before the boys were going towork again, Mrs. Andrews and George were astonished at seeing a cartstop before the house, and the foreman, Bob Grimstone, and four othermen coming up to the door.

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sp; Bill ran and opened the door, and the men entered. He had beenapprised of the time that they might be expected, and at once showedthem in.

  "Mrs. Andrews," the foreman said, "I and my mates here are adeputation from the hands employed in the shop, and we have come tooffer you a little sort of testimonial of what we feel we owe your sonand Bill Smith for putting out the fire and saving the shops. If ithadn't been for them it would have been a bad winter for us all. Soafter thinking it over and finding out what form of testimonial thelads would like best, we have got you a piano, which we hope you maylive long to play on and enjoy. We had proposed to give them a watcheach; but we found that they would rather that it took the form of apiano."

  "Oh, how good and kind of you all!" Mrs. Andrews said, much affected."I shall indeed be proud of your gift, both for itself and for thekind feeling towards my boys which it expresses."

  "Then, ma'am, with your permission we will just bring it in;" and thedeputation retired to assist with the piano.

  "Oh, boys, how could you do it without telling me!" Mrs. Andrewsexclaimed.

  George had hitherto stood speechless with surprise.

  "But I didn't know anything about it, mother. I don't know what theymean by saying that we would rather have it than watches. Of course wewould, a hundred times; but I don't know how they knew it."

  "Then it must have been your kind thought, Bill."

  "It wasn't no kind thought, Mrs. Andrews, but they spoke to me aboutit, and I knew that a piano was what we should like better thananything else, and I didn't say anything about it, because BobGrimstone thought that it would be nicer to be a surprise to George aswell as to you."

  "You are right, old boy," George said, shaking Bill by the hand; "why,there never was such a good idea; it is splendid, mother, isn't it?"

  The men now appeared at the door with the piano. This was at onceplaced in the position which had long ago been decided upon as thebest place for the piano when it should come. Mrs. Andrews opened it,and there on the front was a silver plate with the inscription:

  "To Mrs. Andrews from the Employees at Messrs. Penrose & Co., in tokenof their gratitude to George Andrews and William Smith for theircourage and presence of mind, by which the factory was saved frombeing destroyed by fire on Saturday the 23d of October, 1857."

  The tears which stood in Mrs. Andrews' eyes rendered it difficult forher to read the inscription.

  "I thank you, indeed," she said. "Now, perhaps you would like to hearits tones." So saying she sat down and played "Home, Sweet Home." "Ithas a charming touch," she said as she rose, "and, you see, the airwas an appropriate one, for your gift will serve to make home evensweeter than before. Give, please, my grateful thanks, and those of myboys, to all who have subscribed."

  The inhabitants of No. 8 Laburnum Villas had long been a subject ofconsiderable discussion and interest to their neighbors, for theappearance of the boys as they came home of an evening in theirworking clothes seemed altogether incongruous with that of theirmother and with the neatness and prettiness of the villa, and was,indeed, considered derogatory to the respectability of Laburnum Villasin general. Upon this evening they were still further mystified athearing the notes of a female voice of great power and sweetness,accompanied by a piano, played evidently by an accomplished musician,issuing from the house. As to the boys, they thought that, next onlyto that of the home-coming of Mrs. Andrews, never was such a happyevening spent in the world.

  I do not think that in all London there was a household that enjoyedthat winter more than did the inmates of No. 8 Laburnum Villas. Theirtotal earnings were about thirty-five shillings a week, much less thanthat of many a mechanic, but ample for them not only to live, but tolive in comfort and even refinement. No stranger, who had looked intothe pretty drawing room in the evening, would have dreamed that thelady at the piano worked as a milliner for her living, or that thelads were boys in a manufactory.

  When spring came they began to plan various trips and excursions whichcould be taken on bank holidays or during the long summer evenings,when an event happened which, for a time, cut short all their plans.The word had been passed round the shops the first thing in themorning that Mr. Penrose was coming down with a party of ladies andgentlemen to go over the works, and that things were to be made astidy as possible.

  Accordingly there was a general clearing up, and vast quantities ofshavings and sawdust were swept up from the floors, although when themachines had run again for a few hours no one would have thought thata broom had been seen in the place for weeks.

  George was now in a shop where a number of machines were at workgrooving, mortising, and performing other work to prepare the wood forbuilders' purposes. The party arrived just as work had recommencedafter dinner.

  There were ten or twelve gentlemen and as many ladies. Nelly Penrose,with two girls about her own age, accompanied the party. They stoppedfor a time in each shop while Mr. Penrose explained the nature of thework and the various points of the machinery.

  They had passed through most of the other rooms before they enteredthat in which George was engaged, and the young girls, taking butlittle interest in the details of the machinery, wandered somewhataway from the rest of the party, chatting among themselves. George hadhis eye upon them, and was wishing that Mr. Penrose would turn roundand speak to them, for they were moving about carelessly and notpaying sufficient heed to the machinery.

  Suddenly he threw down his work and darted forward with a shout; buthe was too late, a revolving-band had caught Nelly Penrose's dress. Inan instant she was dragged forward and in another moment would havebeen whirled into the middle of the machinery.

  There was a violent scream, followed by a sudden crash and a harshgrating sound, and then the whole of the machinery on that side of theroom came to a standstill. For a moment no one knew what hadhappened. Mr. Penrose and some of his friends rushed forward to raiseNelly. Her hand was held fast between the band and the pulley, and theband had to be cut to relieve it.

  "What an escape! what an escape!" Mr. Penrose murmured, as he liftedher. "Another second and nothing could have saved her. But whatstopped the machinery?" and for the first time he looked round theshop. There was a little group of men a few yards away, and, havinghanded Nelly, who was crying bitterly, for her hand was much bruised,to one of the ladies, he stepped towards them. The foreman cameforward to meet him.

  "I think, sir, you had better get the ladies out of the shop. I amafraid young Andrews is badly hurt."

  "How is it? What is the matter?" Mr. Penrose asked.

  "I think, sir, he saw the danger your daughter was in, and shoved hisfoot in between two of the cog-wheels."

  "You don't say so!" Mr. Penrose exclaimed, as he pushed forward amongthe men.

  Two of them were supporting George Andrews, who, as pale as death, layin their arms. One of his feet was jammed in between two of thecog-wheels. He was scarcely conscious.

  "Good Heavens," Mr. Penrose exclaimed in a low tone, "his foot must becompletely crushed! Have you thrown off the driving belt, Williams?"

  "Yes, sir, I did that first thing."

  "That's right; now work away for your lives, lads." This was said totwo men who had already seized spanners and were unscrewing the boltsof the bearings in order to enable the upper shafting to be lifted andthe cog-wheel removed. Then Mr. Penrose returned to his friends.

  "Pray leave the shop," he said, "and go down into the office. There'sbeen a bad accident; a noble young fellow has sacrificed himself tosave Nelly's life, and is, I fear, terribly hurt. Williams, send off aman instantly for the surgeon. Let him jump into one of the cabs hewill find waiting at the gate, and tell the man to drive as hard as hecan go. If Dr. Maxwell is not at home let him fetch someone else."

  George had indeed sacrificed himself to save Nelly Penrose. When hesaw the band catch her dress he had looked round for an instant forsomething with which to stop the machinery, but there was nothing athand, and without an instant's hesitation he had thrust his footbetween
the cog-wheels. He had on very heavy, thickly nailed workingboots, and the iron-bound sole threw the cogs out of gear and bent theshaft, thereby stopping the machinery. George felt a dull, sickeningpain, which seemed to numb and paralyze him all over, and heremembered little more until, on the shafting being removed, his footwas extricated and he was laid gently down on a heap of shavings. Thefirst thing he realized when he was conscious was that someone waspouring some liquid, which half-choked him, down his throat.

  When he opened his eyes, Mr. Penrose, kneeling beside him, wassupporting his head, while on the other side knelt Bill Smith, thetears streaming down his cheeks and struggling to suppress his sobs.

  "What is it, Bill? What's the matter?" Then the remembrance of whathad passed flashed upon him.

  "Is she safe; was I in time?"

  "Quite safe, my dear boy. Thank God, your noble sacrifice was not invain," Mr. Penrose answered with quivering lips, for he too had thegreatest difficulty in restraining his emotion.

  "Am I badly hurt, sir?" George asked after a pause, "because, if so,will you please send home for mother? I don't feel in any pain, but Ifeel strange and weak."

  "It is your foot, my boy. I fear that it is badly crushed, butotherwise you are unhurt. Your boot threw the machinery out of gear."

  In ten minutes the doctor arrived. He had already been informed of thenature of the accident.

  "Is it any use trying to cut the boot off?" Mr. Penrose asked in a lowvoice as Dr. Maxwell stooped over George's leg.

  "Not the slightest," the doctor answered in the same tone. "The footis crushed to a pulp. It must come off at the ankle. Nothing can saveit. He had better be taken home at once. You had best send to Guy'sand get an operating surgeon for him. I would rather it were done bysomeone whose hand is more used than mine to this sort of work."

  "I am a governor of Guy's," Mr. Penrose said, "and will send off atonce for one of their best men. You are not afraid of the case, Ihope, Dr. Maxwell?"

  "Not of the local injury," Dr. Maxwell replied; "but the shock to thesystem of such a smash is very severe. However, he has youth,strength, and a good constitution, so we must hope for the best. Thechances are all in his favor. We are thinking of taking you home, myboy," he went on, speaking aloud to George. "Are you in any greatpain?"

  "I am not in any pain, sir; only I feel awfully cold, and, please,will someone go on before and tell mother. Bill had better not go; hewould frighten her to death and make her think it was much worse thanit is."

  "I will go myself," Mr. Penrose replied. "I will prepare her for yourcoming."

  "Drink some more of this brandy," the doctor said; "that will warm youand give you strength for your journey."

  There was a stretcher always kept at the works in case of emergency,and George was placed on this and covered with some rugs. Four of themen raised it onto their shoulders and set out, Mr. Penrose at oncedriving on to prepare Mrs. Andrews.

  Bill followed the procession heart-broken. When it neared home hefell behind and wandered away, not being able to bring himself towitness the grief of Mrs. Andrews. For hours he wandered about,sitting down in waste places and crying as if his heart would break."If it had been me it wouldn't have mattered," he kept onexclaiming--"wouldn't have mattered a bit. It wouldn't have been noodds one way or the other. There, we have always been together in theshops till this week, and now when we get separated this is what comesof it. Here am I, walking about all right, and George all crushed up,and his mother breaking her heart. Why, I would rather a hundred timesthat they had smashed me up all over than have gone and hurt Georgelike that!"

  It was dark before he made his way back, and, entering at the backdoor, took off his boots, and was about to creep upstairs when Mrs.Andrews came out of the kitchen.

  "Oh, Mrs. Andrews!" he exclaimed, and the tears again burst from him.

  "Do not cry, Bill; George is in God's hands, and the doctors haveevery hope that he will recover. They are upstairs with him now, witha nurse whom Mr. Penrose has fetched down from the hospital. He willhave to lose his foot, poor boy," she added with a sob that she couldnot repress, "but we should feel very thankful that it is no worseafter such an accident as that. The doctor says that his thick bootssaved him. If it hadn't been for that his whole leg would have beendrawn into the machinery, and then nothing could have saved him. Now Imust go upstairs, as I only came down for some hot water."

  "May I go up to him, Mrs. Andrews?"

  "I think, my boy, you had better stop down here for the present forboth your sakes. I will let you know when you can go up to him."

  So Bill crouched before the fire and waited. He heard movementsupstairs and wondered what they were doing and why they didn't keepquiet, and when he would be allowed to go up. Once or twice the nursecame down for hot water, but Bill did not speak to her; but in half anhour Mrs. Andrews herself returned, looking, Bill thought, even palerthan before.

  "I have just slipped down to tell you, my boy, that it's all over.They gave him chloroform, and have taken his foot off."

  "And didn't it hurt it awful?" Bill asked in an awed voice.

  "Not in the least. He knew nothing about it, and the first thing heasked when he came to was when they were going to begin. They will begoing away directly, and then you can come up and sit quietly in hisroom if you like. The doctors say he will probably drop asleep."

  Bill was obliged to go outside again and wrestle with himself beforehe felt that he was fit to go up into George's room. It was a longstruggle, and had George caught his muttered remonstrances to himselfhe would have felt that Bill had suffered a bad relapse into hisformer method of talking. It came out in jerks between his sobs.

  "Come, none of that now. Aint yer ashamed of yerself, a-howling anda-blubbering like a gal! Call yerself a man!--you are a babby, that'swhat you are. Now, dry up, and let's have no more of it."

  But it was a long time before he again mastered himself; then he wentto the scullery and held his head under the tap till the water tookaway his breath, then polished his face till it shone, and then wentand sat quietly down till Mrs. Andrews came in and told him that hecould go upstairs to George. He went up to the bedside and tookGeorge's hand, but he could not trust himself to speak.

  "Well, Bill, old boy," George said cheerily, but in a somewhat lowervoice than usual, "this is a sudden go, isn't it?"

  Bill nodded. He was still speechless.

  "Don't you take it to heart, Bill," George said, feeling that the ladwas shaking from head to foot. "It won't make much odds, you know. Ishall soon be about again all right. I expect they will be able to puton an artificial foot, and I shall be stumping about as well as ever,though I shouldn't be much good at a race."

  "I wish it had been me," Bill broke out. "I would have jammed my headin between them wheels cheerful, that I would, rather than you shouldhave gone and done it."

  "Fortunately there was no time," George said with a smile. "Don't youfret yourself, Bill; one can get on well enough without a foot, and itdidn't hurt me a bit coming off. No, nor the squeeze either, notregular hurting; it was just a sort of scrunch, and then I didn't feelanything more. Why, I have often hurt myself ten times as much at playand thought nothing of it. I expect it looked much worse to you thanit felt to me."

  "We will talk of it another time," Bill said huskily. "Your mothersaid I wasn't to talk, and I wasn't to let you talk, but just to sitdown here quiet, and you are to try to go off to sleep." So saying hesat down by the bedside. George asked one or two more questions, butBill only shook his head. Presently George closed his eyes, and ashort time afterwards his quiet regular breathing showed that he wasasleep.

  The next six weeks passed pleasantly enough to George. Every dayhampers containing flowers and various niceties in the way of foodwere sent down by Mr. Penrose, and that gentleman himself veryfrequently called in for a chat with him. As soon as the wound hadhealed an instrument-maker came down from town to measure him for anartificial foot, but before he was able to wear this he could ge
tabout on crutches.

  The first day that he was downstairs Mr. Penrose brought Nelly downto see him. The child looked pale and awed as he came in.

  "My little girl has asked me to thank you for her, George," Mr.Penrose said as she advanced timidly and placed her hand in his. "Ihave not said much to you about my own feelings and I won't say muchabout hers; but you can understand what we both feel. Why, my boy, itwas a good Providence, indeed, which threw you in my way! I thought sowhen you saved the mill from destruction. I feel it tenfold more nowthat you have saved my child. The ways of God are, indeed, strange.Who would have thought that all this could have sprung from that boysnatching the locket from Helen as we came out of the theater! And nowabout the future, George. I owe you a great debt, infinitely greaterthan I can ever repay; but what I can do I will. In the future I shallregard you as my son, and I hope that you will look to me as to afather. I have been talking to your mother, and she says that shethinks your tastes lie altogether in the direction of engineering. Isthat so?"

  "Yes, sir. I have often thought I would rather be an engineer thananything else, but I don't like----"

  "Never mind what you like and what you don't like," Mr. Penrose saidquietly. "You belong to me now, you know and must do as you are told.What I propose is this, that you shall go to a good school foranother three years, and I will then apprentice you to a first-classengineer, either mechanical or civil as you may then prefer, and whenyou have learned your business I will take good care that you arepushed on. What do you say to that?"

  "I think it is too much altogether," George said.

  "Never mind about that," Mr. Penrose said, "that is my business. Ifthat is the only objection we can imagine it settled. There is anotherthing. I know how attached you are to your friend Bill, and I amindebted to him, too, for the part he played at the fire, so Ipropose, if he is willing, to put him to a good middle-class schoolfor a bit. In the course of a couple of years he will get a sufficienteducation to get on fairly with, and then I propose, according as youmay choose to be a civil or mechanical engineer, to place him with amason or smith; then by the time that you are ready to start inbusiness he will be ready to take a place under you, so that you mayagain work together."

  "Oh, thank you, sir!" George exclaimed, even more pleased at the newsrelating to Bill than at his own good fortune, great as was thedelight which the prospect opened by Mr. Penrose's offer caused him.

  As soon as George could be moved, Mr. Penrose sent him with his motherand Bill down to the seaside. Here George rapidly regained strength,and when, after a stay there of two months, he returned to town, hewas able to walk so well with his artificial foot that his loss wouldnot have been noticed by a stranger.

  The arrangements settled by Mr. Penrose were all in due time carriedout. George went for three years to a good school, and was thenapprenticed to one of the leading civil engineers. With him heremained five years and then went out for him to survey a railroadabout to be constructed in Brazil, and remained there as one of thestaff who superintended its construction. Bill, who was now a cleveryoung mason, accompanied him, and through George's interest with thecontractor obtained the sub-contract for the masonry of some of thebridges and culverts.

  This was ten years ago, and George Andrews is now one of the mostrising engineers of the day, and whatever business he undertakes hisfriend Bill is still his right-hand man. Mr. Penrose has been in allrespects as good as his word, and has been ready to assist George withhis personal influence in all his undertakings, and in all respectshas treated him as a son, while Nelly has regarded him with theaffection of a sister.

  Both George and Bill have been married some years, and Mrs. Andrewsthe elder is one of the proudest and happiest of mothers. She stilllives with her son at the earnest request of his wife, who is oftenleft alone during George's frequent absence abroad on professionalduties. As for Bill, he has not even yet got over his wonder at hisown good fortune, and ever blesses the day when he first met George inCovent Garden.