I had, however, it appeared, struck upon a chord which jarred, and all
the spirits of Mrs St. Felix vanished at once. So Virginia and I
wished her a good evening, and returned home.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
SOME LITTLE DIFFERENCE IN THE PROCEEDS OF THIS CHAPTER, AND MY FORMER
"COPPER FOR POOR JACK, YOUR HONOUR."
On our arrival at my mother's, I found a letter from Bramble, stating
that he would be at Greenwich in two days, and, further, informing me
that the honourable company had been pleased, in consequence of the
report made of our good behaviour, to award to him the sum of two
hundred pounds, and to me the sum of one hundred pounds, as a
remuneration for our assistance in the capture of the privateer.
This was news indeed. One hundred pounds! I never thought that I
should possess such a sum in my life. One hundred pounds! what should I
do with it? My mother was astonished, and then fell into a very grave
mood. Virginia was pleased, but appeared to care less about it than I
thought she would have done. My father came in as usual with Ben the
Whaler, and I read the letter.
"Why, Tom, that's about as much prize-money as I have made in all my
sarvice," said my father, "and you've been afloat only four months.
Come, missis, send for some beer, and let us drink Tom's health, and
success to him. God bless you, my boy! the papers say you deserved it,
and that's better than your getting it. I'm proud of you; I am, indeed,
my boy: your father's proud of you, Tom"--and here my father showed more
emotion than ever I witnessed in him before; however, he put his lips to
the porter-pot, and when he had drained it nearly to the bottom, he had
quite recovered himself.
"Well, Tom," said Ben, after he had finished the small modicum of beer
left him by my father, "and what do you mean to do with all that money?"
"I'm sure I don't know--I have no want of it--I have everything I wish
for."
"Come, missis," said my father, "we must have another pot, for I drank
deep, and Ben has been shared out." My mother very graciously sent for
another pot of porter, which, with the newspaper, occupied Ben and my
father till it was time for us to break up and go to bed.
The next morning when I went down I found Virginia alone, my mother
having returned to her room.
"Tom," said she, "what do you think my mother said to me when we were
going to bed last night?"
"Tell me."
"She said, `Tom says he don't know what to do with his money. I only
wish I had it; I would turn it into three times the sum in three years,
and have a better home for you, my dear.'"
"Did she say how?"
"Yes, I asked her how; she said that she should take a new house with a
shop up the town, and set up as a milliner, with apprentices; that, as
soon as she was fairly employed, she should give up getting up fine
linen, and only take in laces to wash and mend, which was a very
profitable business."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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