"Poor owd lad! To think of his being laid up just when Club Day cooms!
Eh, he will be takken to. Ye mind how he allus got agate o' boastin'
about bein' th' owdest member o' th' Club? an' he nobbut seventy! Eh,
I 'ad to get vexed wi' him soomtimes--he would have 't ye know, as
'twere him as were th' owdest, an' he'd get up, when th' folks had
called for me--eh, I could scarce stand it!"
"He'll be soom mad," cried our Tom, chuckling.
"Nay, thou munnot mak' game o' th' poor owd chap's misfortun'," said
his father with a tolerant air as he handed the empty basin to Annie.
"It's bad enough for him to be layin' theer wi'out havin' folks
crowin' ower him."
Tom, much abashed, grinned sheepishly, and old Robert continued, after
a pause, still evidently in high good-humour:--
"Well, wheer's thy cornet? Thou should be practisin' i'stead o'
standin' about findin' fault wi' thy neighbours."
Tom, who was a member of the Thornleigh band, had secretly resolved to
retire presently to the cartshed that he might prepare for the labours
of the morrow without being overheard. He was rejoiced, however, to
find that he might pursue his musical avocations in the house without
causing the old father chagrin or irritation.
"Mun I practise a bit i' th' kitchen?" he inquired joyfully.
Old Wainwright consented, and presently the somewhat husky tones of
Tom's cornet resounded through the house.
The next morning dawned bright and sunny, though the unseasonable east
wind still blew pitilessly keen. The Wainwright's house was only
divided from the main road by a little patch of garden, and old
Robert's bedroom window looked out upon the street. Beside this window
he insisted on establishing himself, being half carried thither by his
two stalwart sons, whose stout necks he encircled with either arm,
while he hopped with his sound leg across the floor; Mrs. Wainwright
supported the injured limb in front and Annie and Polly brought up the
rear carrying pillows and blankets. Thus, by the united exertions of
the whole family, old Bob was safely deposited in his straight-backed
arm-chair, a good deal redder in the face and shorter in the temper
than before the transit, but otherwise none the worse. Polly pushed
forward a chair under the limb which her mother was still embracing.
The pillows were put at feyther's back, the blankets over his knee,
his pipe and screw of 'baccy being placed handy on the window-sill;
then Tom and Bob withdrew to assume their Sunday suits in preparation
for the day, while Mrs. Wainwright and her daughters made the bed and
tidied the room. Presently the girls slipped away, and, after pausing
for a moment, hands on hips to make sure that her Gaffer was
coomfortable, Mrs. Wainwright remarked that she'd better be seeing to
things downstairs a bit, for they lasses 'ud be sure to be off arter
the Club as soon as her back was turned.
"If thou wants me, thou'll shout for me, wunnot thou?" she asked,
turning just at the door.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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