Jeremy and Hamlet: A Chronicle of Certain Incidents in the Lives of a Boy, a Dog, and a Country TownWalpole, Hugh
General
Jeremy and Hamlet: A Chronicle of Certain Incidents in the Lives of a Boy, a Dog, and a Country Town
Walpole, Hugh
Boys -- Fiction; Dogs -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Jeremy followed him into the dining-room, where they were alone. Uncle
Percy shut the door.
“Here’s something for you, my boy, to take back to school. Buy something
you want with it and remember your uncle isn’t such a bad sort after
all.”
Jeremy crimsoned up to the tips of his ears. On the red palm of his
uncle’s big hand there were lying three golden sovereigns.
“No, thank you, uncle.”
“What?”
“No, thank you, uncle. I’ve got——Father gave me——I don’t want——”
“You won’t take it? You won’t——?”
“No, thank you, uncle.”
“But what the devil——”
Jeremy turned away. His uncle caught him by the shoulder.
“Now, what’s all this about? A boy of your age refuse a tip? Now, what’s
this mean?”
Jeremy wriggled himself free. Suddenly he said hotly: “Father’s as good
as you, every bit as good. Even though you have been everywhere and he
hasn’t. People like father awfully in Polchester, and they say his
sermons are better than anybody’s. Father’s just as good as you
are——I——” and then suddenly burst from the room.
Uncle Percy stood there. This may be said to have been the greatest
shock of his life. The boy’s father? What was he talking about? The
boy’s father? As good as he was? The boy hated him so much that he
wouldn’t even take the money. Three pounds, and he wouldn’t take it!
Wouldn’t take money from him because he hated him so! But hang it! Lord,
how that dog was howling! What a horrible noise! What was he howling
for? . . . Wouldn’t take the money? But had anyone ever heard the like?
. . . But, hang it, three pounds!
CHAPTER XI
THE RUNAWAYS
I
Jeremy, on his return to Thompson’s that term, found that he had been
changed to what was known as the Baby Dorm.
Hitherto he had been in a perfect barrack of a dormitory that contained
at least twenty beds. The Baby Dorm was a little room with three beds,
and it was a distinction to be there—a true sign that you were rising
in the world. This was fully appreciated by Jeremy, and when he also
discovered that his two companions were Pug Raikes and Stokesley Maj the
cup of his joy was full. Raikes and Stokesley were just the companions
he would have chosen, short, of course, of Riley. But Riley was away in
the other wing of the house protecting, to his infinite boredom, some
new kids. There was no hope of _his_ company.
Raikes and Stokesley were both older than Jeremy; they had been at
Thompson’s a year longer than he. Pug Raikes was a fat, round boy,
rather like Tommy Winchester at home. It was said that he could eat more
at one go than any three boys at Thompson’s put together. But with all
his fat he was no mean sportsman. He was the best fives player in the
school, and quite a good bat. He had an invaluable character for games;
nothing disturbed him; he was imperturbable through every crisis. He had
been bitten once in the hand by a ferret, and had not uttered a sound.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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