The House of Cobwebs and Other StoriesGissing, George
General
The House of Cobwebs and Other Stories
Gissing, George
Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Short stories
And so it was done. By discreet management the piled volumes were stowed in
bags, carried downstairs, emptied into a cart, and conveyed away, so
quietly that the sick woman was aware of nothing. In telling me about it,
Christopherson crowed as I had never heard him; but methought his eye
avoided that part of the floor which had formerly been hidden, and in the
course of our conversation he now and then became absent, with head bowed.
Of the joy he felt in his wife's recovery there could, however, be no
doubt. The crisis through which he had passed had made him, in appearance,
a yet older man; when he declared his happiness tears came into his eyes,
and his head shook with a senile tremor.
Before they left London, I saw Mrs. Christopherson--a pale, thin, slightly
made woman, who had never been what is called good-looking, but her face,
if ever face did so, declared a brave and loyal spirit. She was not joyous,
she was not sad; but in her eyes, as I looked at them again and again, I
read the profound thankfulness of one to whom fate has granted her soul's
desire.
HUMPLEBEE
The school was assembled for evening prayers, some threescore boys
representing for the most part the well-to-do middle class of a
manufacturing county. At either end of the room glowed a pleasant fire, for
it was February and the weather had turned to frost.
Silence reigned, but on all the young faces turned to where the headmaster
sat at his desk appeared an unwonted expression, an eager expectancy, as
though something out of the familiar routine were about to happen. When the
master's voice at length sounded, he did not read from the book before him;
gravely, slowly, he began to speak of an event which had that day stirred
the little community with profound emotion.
'Two of our number are this evening absent. Happily, most happily, absent
but for a short time; in our prayers we shall render thanks to the good
Providence which has saved us from a terrible calamity. I do not desire to
dwell upon the circumstance that one of these boys, Chadwick, had committed
worse than an imprudence in venturing upon the Long Pond; it was in
disregard of my injunction; I had distinctly made it known that the ice was
still unsafe. We will speak no more of that. All we can think of at present
is the fact that Chadwick was on the point of losing his life; that in all
human probability he would have been drowned, but for the help heroically
afforded him by one of his schoolfellows. I say heroically, and I am sure I
do not exaggerate; in the absence of Humplebee I may declare that he nobly
perilled his own life to save that of another. It was a splendid bit of
courage, a fine example of pluck and promptitude and vigour. We have all
cause this night to be proud of Humplebee.'
The solemn voice paused. There was an instant's profound silence. Then,
from somewhere amid the rows of listeners, sounded a clear, boyish note.
'Sir, may we give three cheers for Humplebee?'
'You may.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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