LightNovesOnl.com

Christmas Penny Readings Part 6

Christmas Penny Readings - LightNovelsOnl.com

You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.

and then I choked again as I shunted off what I was saying.

"Stand back a bit," says the gentleman to his servant, and then, in so kind and gentle a way, he says to me--"Why, my poor fellow, I wouldn't have had this happen on any account;" and then I saw a tear or two in his lady's beautiful eyes, and they both stopped talking to me a good quarter of an hour, free as could be, telling me that they had me to thank for much happiness, as theirs was a runaway match. And at last, when they drove off, nodding and smiling at me, I had the gentleman's card, so as to call on him next morning, when he said his father, being a railway director, I should be took on the line at once; and, what was more to the purpose then, there were five sovereigns in my hand.

I didn't know what to do, whether to laugh or cry; and I'm sure I must have looked like a madman as I tore through the streets, and rushed upstairs into our room, when the first thing I did was to sc.r.a.pe up every bit of coal at the bottom of the cupboard and put it a-top of the fire.

"Lay the cloth, my la.s.s," I says, seizing a dish; "and, Lord bless you, look alive!" The children stared, and then laughed and clapped their hands, while I rushed out to the cook's shop in the lane, looking like a wolf.

There was a roast goose just up, and cissing away in the big pewter dish all amongst the gravy, with the stuffing a smelling that rich, it was enough to drive you mad.

Just as I slipped into the door, the waiter--red-nosed chap--with a dirty white wisp of a handkercher round his neck, looking like a seedy undertaker--the waiter says: "Two goose--apple sauce--and taters;" and the master sticks his fork into the buzzum, and makes a cut as sent the stuffing all out of a gush.

"Hold hard," I says, "that's mine;" and ketching hold of one leg, before he knew what I was up to, it was on my dish. "Now then, ladle on that gravy," I says, "and let's have the setrers;" and saying that, I dabs a sovrin down on the edge of the pewter.

I think they were going to send out for a policeman, but the sight of that little bit of metal settled it, and five minutes after I was carrying the change--not much of it neither--the goose under a cover, and the waiter following behind with a tray, with vegetables, sauce, and aside the great wedge of pudding, a pot of half-and-half.

When the waiter had gone out of the room, and the little ones were hooraying and tapping with their knives, I got to the top of the table, the wife went to the bottom, and I began to say grace, when our eyes met, she ran to me, and then for a good ten minutes she was a sobbing in my arms; while I--there; that's private, and I think I've confessed enough.

There; I don't care whose it was, or where it was, all I know is this, that there wasn't such a dinner eaten or enjoyed anywhere that day throughout the length and breadth of our old country; and though sometimes it was hard to see where I stuck the fork, or cut with the knife, I was smiling all the time. As for the wife, she would keep breaking down till I shouted at her, when she went at it and helped me keep the young ones going; and at last of all I'd have taken a s.h.i.+lling for what was left of the goose, and whoever bought it wouldn't have been the best off in the bargain.

The very next week I was took on the London, Highshare, and Ploughshare railway, and that through the gent who got me discharged from the Great Central, which happened this way.

The Christmas-Eve afore what I've told you was one of those yaller, smoky, foggy times, when trains are all later than they should be, even worse than might be expected at Christmas-time. The lamps were burning in the booking offices all day, while the steam hung like a cloud in the roof of the terminus. I was sitting in the engine-shed on our horse-- steam-horse you know--waiting to run the mail down to the north, when Ben Davis, my stoker, says:

"There they goes again, 'bang, bang,' I wonder what it's cost the company to-day in fog signals;" and then as I didn't say nothing, he says, "Ah! this is just such a night as it was four years agone, when poor Tom Harris was cut up the night afore the pitch in,"--smash you know. "Poor Tom; he knowed it was a-comin' to that, and he told me all about it; for I stoked him."

Just then time was up, and all hot and hissing, I runs out to the switches, and comes back on to the down line, where we were coupled on to the train, when Ben goes on: "Poor chap; he'd been outer sorts for some time, and I do think he took more than he should; but one way and another, he was horribly low-spirited, and would quite upset you with the way he'd talk. The last night as I stoked him, he got telling me his reg'lar tale, about a run down he had, and one as he had never forgotten about, being on full swing in a terribly dark foggy night, he heard a whistle, and looking back he could see a train coming on at an awful rate just behind him, when of course he put on more steam. But that didn't seem no good; for coming round the curve, he could see the train closing up fast; and at last, when half mad with fear, and ready to jump off, he saw that the train was on the up line, and the next minute it was alongside his; and there they two were racing abreast of each other; when he slackened, the other slackened; and when he did t'other, they did t'other. Same length train; same size engine; same lights; and fire door open like his; so that he could see the driver's face; and he says, says he, 'I nearly dropped; for it was me as was driving that 'tother train.' On they goes together into the tunnel, and out they goes together. When he looked back, there was all the carriages lit up, and all just as if it was his own train; but whistling at the short stations when he did, and keeping an exactly same pace. It was like being in a cloud, the fog was so heavy; while the steam from both funnels mixed together.

"It was Christmas-eve, just like this; and yet cold as it was, he said, poor chap, the water dripped from his face as they rushed on. He knew it couldn't last long, for there'd be an up-train directly, and then there must be a fearful smash; but yet something seemed to tell him as there wouldn't; and watching as they went by station after station, he stood trembling at his post. All at once he could see the up-train coming; and then he put on a spurt so as to be ahead when the smash came; but that was no use, for the train kept aside his, and then all at once there was a shriek, and a rush, and the up-train was right behind; while along side his, there was that same engine just in the same place, and him a-driving it. Poor Tom used to make me creep when he told that tale, and he didn't live long arter; for one night there was something wrong in front of our engine, when he wouldn't wait till we stopped, but got along as we were going, and when I was expecting him to come back, and looked--for I'd been putting on more coal--there was some blood splashed all about the screen, and when I stopped and run back, there was poor Tom lying all to bits in the six foot. And they do say as he's been seen by some of the chaps a running a ghost engine along the line at express rate, sometimes one line, and sometimes the other; and when he meets another train, there's a whistle and shriek, and he's gone."

"That's werry pretty," I says. "I'd have that put in a book, if I was you;" and just then there was a bit of door banging, the second bell rang, the guard's whistle chirrupped, and then with a scream we started, the steam puffing out of the funnel in round white b.a.l.l.s, and slowly spreading overhead till it came faster, and hanging over us like a plume of white feathers, it streamed back over the train.

Such a night: thick as thick; and every now and then it was "bang, bang"

as we went over the fog signals, and had to pull up and go very slowly, so that we were a good ten minutes going the first half-mile; and then past the first short station we went very slowly.

Thirty-five miles down was our first stoppage, where we took in water, and then another forty took us to Moreton, which was our next stoppage.

By degrees we got on faster and faster, but the darkness was something terrible; while the signal lights at the short stations were almost useless, for I couldn't see them till we were close up, so being already very late through its being Christmas-time I pushed her along, trusting to the line being all clear.

"Ah!" says Ben all at once, "we're jest a-coming to the spot where poor Tom was cut up. Poor old chap," he says; "and it was just here as he first saw that train running by his side."

Now, of course, I knew well enough that it was all gammon; but Ben talked so serious that it give me quite a s.h.i.+ver, and as we came suddenly upon the lights of a station, and raced through, my heart gave a jump, for it almost seemed as if a train was aside us; and even after pa.s.sing the station, I looked out, for there was the train lights reflected on the fog on each side; but directly after I laughed at myself.

"It was just about here as he must have gone down," says Ben to me-- shouting in my ear, for we were going fast; "and they do say as sometimes he mounts an engine and--_Yah-h-h_!" cried the poor fellow, falling down upon his hands and knees; while regularly took aback, I shrunk trembling up in the corner of the screen, and there stopped staring at a horrible looking figure, as seemed to start all at once into the light just as if he'd rose out of the coals. And then he came right up to me, for poor Ben had fainted.

As we were staring at one another I could see as the figure was b.u.t.toned up in an oilskin coat, while a close fur cap covered its head, and a handkercher was round the lower part of the face, so that I could see nothing but a pair of fierce bright eyes; and there it stood with one hand holding the side of the screen.

As long as I kept quiet it never moved; but directly I tried to get to my place it motioned me back. At last, half-desperate, I faced it; for a bit of thinking told me it must be a man, though Ben's story had a bit upset me.

"Here's Richford close here," I shouts, "where we stops;" but in a moment I saw the barrel of a pistol flas.h.i.+ng in the light of the fire, and then I shrunk back again into the corner. If he would only have turned his back for a moment I should have pinned him, but he only glanced round once, when Ben shuffled back into the far corner of the tender; and there we were five minutes after rus.h.i.+ng through Richford at full speed.

"Now," he says, leaning down to me, "rouse up, and push on faster; and don't you dare to stop till we get to Moreton:" and when a man says this to you with a pistol in his hand, why, what else can you do but mind.

"Now," thinks I, "this is a pretty go;" and then I kicks up Ben to come and stoke; but he wouldn't move, and what wanted doing I had to do myself; and so we raced on, for he made me put on more steam, seeing through my dodge in a moment, when I slackened instead; and on we went, with the night seeming to grow darker every moment. But it was race on, past station after station like a flash; and, one way and another, I began to grow excited. The guard had been letting go at the gong, but of course I could take no notice; no doubt, too, he had screwed down his break, but that seemed to make very little difference, with the metals in such a greasy state with the heavy frosty mist; and we raced along at such a rate as I've never been at since.

More than once, I made sure we should be crash into the tail of some goods-train; but though we pa.s.sed several coming up, nothing was in our way, and at last, after the wildest ride I ever had, we began to get near Moreton, just as the water was beginning to get low. "And now," he says, fiercely, "draw up just this side of the station;" and I nodded: but, for all that, I meant to have run right in, but he was too quick for me, and screwed down the brake so that we stopped a good fifty yards short of the platform, when he leaped down, and I was going to follow, but a rough voice said, "Stand back," and I could see some one in front of me; while, by the lights of the train, I just saw a carriage next the tender opened, and some one hurried off to where a couple of lights were s.h.i.+ning; and I could hear horses stamping; and then--it all didn't take a minute--there was the trampling of hoofs and the rolling of wheels, and the man who stopped me from getting down was gone.

"Get up," I says to Ben, as we run into the station; "it warn't a ghost:" but Ben seemed anything but sure on that point. While, as we finished our journey that night, I put that and that together, and made out as this chap, who must have been a plucky fellow, got from the next carriage on to the tender while we were crawling through the fog just outside London; and all to prevent stopping at Richford, where, no doubt, somebody had telegraphed for him to be taken; while, though the message would perhaps be repeated to Moreton, it was not sure to be so, and his dodge of stopping short where a conveyance was in waiting made that all right.

I drove the up-mail next day to town; but that was my last on the Great Central, for, when summoned before the Board, it was pay off, and go; and that, too, without a character.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS.

"You want to go to sleep? Well you shall directly, but I want to say just a word about next week and Christmas-Day."

"Well say away," I said very drowsily.

"Well, dear," said Mrs Scribe, "You see mamma's coming."

"Sorry to hear it," I said in an undertone.

"For shame," said Mrs S. "How can you talk in that way, when you know what interest she takes in you, and how she praises all you write. No, now, it isn't gammon, as you so politely call it. Well, and if she did say you always introduced 'the wife,' or 'the missus,' so often, what then? You would not have her flatter you, and say what she didn't mean, would you now, dear?"

I couldn't help it, for the wind was easterly and I was very tired, so I only said, "Bother!" But there, I dare not commit to paper all that was said to me upon the subject. A word or two will suffice upon a matter familiar to every Benedict.

"Ah, sir," said Mrs S, "you did not say 'bother' after that walk when we gathered cowslips, and I gave you leave to speak to mamma. What did you say then?"

"Too long ago to recollect," I said.

"No it is not, sir. You said--"

"There, for goodness sake, don't be casting all one's follies in one's teeth," I exclaimed.

"Well then, just listen quietly to what I was going to say about mamma coming."

"Go on then."

"Now don't be a cross old goose, and--"

"Gander," I suggested.

"Now don't be so stupid and tiresome, dear, but just listen. Now, Mrs Parabola's furniture is going to be sold to-morrow, and you'd better go and pick up a few things."

"Pick up," I said, "why they won't let you have anything unless you pay for it."

"Dear me, how exceedingly witty," said Mrs S. "Have you quite finished, sir?"

Click Like and comment to support us!

RECENTLY UPDATED NOVELS

About Christmas Penny Readings Part 6 novel

You're reading Christmas Penny Readings by Author(s): George Manville Fenn. This novel has been translated and updated at LightNovelsOnl.com and has already 574 views. And it would be great if you choose to read and follow your favorite novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest novels, a novel list updates everyday and free. LightNovelsOnl.com is a very smart website for reading novels online, friendly on mobile. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact us at [email protected] or just simply leave your comment so we'll know how to make you happy.