One of Lifes Slaves | Page 9

lament over Ludvig's starched collar, which
had got crumpled.
"Come here, my precious boy. Come now, and then you shall play
again directly."
She took him up on her knee. "It's my own precious boy, it is, who's so
good! There, hold his blouse, Nikolai, and you shall see such a fine boy,
and so good, so good!"
"Show him my Sunday clothes, Barbara, and the patent leather shoes!"
And Nikolai was allowed to look into the drawers at all Ludvig's and
Lizzie's dresses and sashes and fine underclothes, and to peep into the
toy-cupboard to be bewildered by all the old drums and trumpets and
headless men and horses, and tin soldiers, and Noah's arks, with their
belongings, all of which, Barbara said, they had been given because
they were so good.

There was a pile of things in the lower part of the cupboard, so that
Nikolai could understand that they must have been very, very good,
and that his mother, too--and at this he felt a bitter
disappointment--must, in return, be very, very fond of them. They must
be very different children to what he was, if they never deserved a
whipping, but always playthings. He became quite tired and downcast,
as he stood there. If he ever met Ludvig anywhere, he would pay him
out about the horse.
At last the hour of departure arrived, when he was to go with the
pony-carriage that fetched the Consul from town at three o'clock. The
two children both clung to his mother's skirt when she followed him
out.
"Good-bye, Nikolai!" and she patted him in such a way on the cheek
and head that he looked at her half doubtingly, "and give my respects to
Holman and Mrs. Holman. Do you hear? Whatever you do, don't forget
Mrs. Holman. And--I declare you're kicking the varnish now! You must
sit quite still, Nikolai, the whole way. Don't you know that you mustn't
come near those fine carriage-cushions with your boots? You should
just see how nicely Ludvig and Lizzie sit, when they go for a
drive--don't you, dears?"
And off he set.
It had indeed been a gala day, and he had been given a large, sugared
twist to take with him, and it tasted delicious; but somehow or other he
began to cry all at once on the way home.
The next day he had full confirmation of how delightful it had been.
While he was going up and down the pavement in his daily occupation
of taking care of Silla, he caught fragments of Mrs. Holman's remarks
to the housekeeper up stairs, as they stood under the archway; he never
for a moment lost sight of her tall figure.
"You may well say so, Miss Damm. Take him into the room with their
own children; there aren't many grand folks that would have done such

an honour to one like him." ... "We must do so many things in this
world, Miss Damm--we must scour the boards over the gutter, so to
speak, and put up with them--and I don't mind saying that he showed
that he was well cared-for from top to toe." ... "Such an honour! It
might have been some respectable child they had asked there. He ought
to remember it the whole of his life!" ... "So grand as she is now, she
doesn't much care about coming out here and acknowledging the boy.
It's nothing for those that can pay to get rid of their shame!"
Nikolai crushed with all his might an old decapitated cock's head,
which lay in the gutter, with the heel of his boot, until it was as flat as a
penny.
When the terror of bogies and the devil in the coal-cellar had lost its
power, one of Mrs. Holman's most powerful means of keeping Nikolai
in order was a threat of sending him to the parish school--an institution
which stood before her imagination as a publicly authorised house of
correction for youth, and a daily training-ground in the fulfilment of
one's duty.
He never obtained any very clear idea of what would happen when he
went to school; but that it was something quite indeterminably dreadful
was evident from the constantly renewed disguised hints, and the
repressed, mystical groans and nods by which they were accompanied.
One day the threat was really carried out: he was to go next Monday
morning.
Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, he counted on his fingers--he
had all those days left. And how he took care of and played with Silla
during them, and darted on errands like an arrow!
At last there was only the Sunday afternoon left.
He sat at tea-time with Silla and tried to take comfort from her opinions
about school, heard that he was to have his Sunday