Sentimental Tommy: The Story of His BoyhoodBarrie, J. M. (James Matthew)
History
Sentimental Tommy: The Story of His Boyhood
Barrie, J. M. (James Matthew)
London (England) -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
"What a bar!" agreed Tommy, and sufficient has now been told to show
that he had found a way. Even Gav acknowledged a master, and, when the
accoutrements of war were bought at second hand as cheaply as Tommy had
predicted, applauded him with eyes and mouth for a full week, after
which he saw things in a new light. Gav of course was to enter the
bursary lists anon, and he had supposed that Cathro would have the last
year's schooling of him; but no, his father decided to send him for the
grand final grind to Mr. Ogilvy of Glen Quharity, a famous dominie
between whom and Mr. Dishart existed a friendship that none had ever got
at the root of. Mr. Cathro was more annoyed than he cared to show, Gav
being of all the boys of that time the one likeliest to do his teacher
honor at the university competitions, but Tommy, though the decision
cost him an adherent, was not ill-pleased, for he had discovered that
Gav was one of those irritating boys who like to be leader. Gav, as has
been said, suddenly saw Tommy's victory over Messrs. Birkie, Francie,
etc., in a new light; this was because when he wanted back the shilling
which he had contributed to the funds for buying their purchases, Tommy
replied firmly:
"I canna give you the shilling, but I'll give you the lantern and the
tartan cloth we bought wi' it."
"What use could they be to me at Glen Quharity?" Gav protested.
"Oh, if they are no use to you," Tommy said sweetly, "me and Corp is
willing to buy them off you for threepence."
Then Gav became a scorner of duplicity, but he had to consent to the
bargain, and again Corp said to Tommy, "Oh, you crittur!" But he was
sorry to lose a fellow-conspirator. "There's just the twa o' us now," he
sighed.
"Just twa!" cried Tommy. "What are you havering about, man? There's as
many as I like to whistle for."
"You mean Grizel and Elspeth, I ken, but--"
"I wasna thinking of the womenfolk," Tommy told him, with a
contemptuous wave of the hand. He went closer to Corp, and said, in a
low voice, "The McKenzies are waiting!"
"Are they, though?" said Corp, perplexed, as he had no notion who the
McKenzies might be.
"And Lochiel has twa hunder spearsmen."
"Do you say so?"
"Young Kinnordy's ettling to come out, and I meet Lord Airlie, when the
moon rises, at the Loups o' Kenny, and auld Bradwardine's as spunky as
ever, and there's fifty wild Highlandmen lying ready in the muckle cave
of Clova."
He spoke so earnestly that Corp could only ejaculate, "Michty me!"
"But of course they winna rise," continued Tommy, darkly, "till he
lands."
"Of course no," said Corp, "but--wha is he?"
"Himsel'," whispered Tommy, "the Chevalier!"
Corp hesitated. "But, I thought," he said diffidently, "I thought you--"
"So I am," said Tommy.
"But you said he hadna landed yet?"
"Neither he has."
"But you--"
"Well?"
"You're here, are you no?"
Tommy stamped his foot in irritation. "You're slow in the uptak," he
said. "I'm no here. How can I be here when I'm at St. Germains?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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