Sturdy and Strong: or, How George Andrews Made His Way

"Will you look at their hands, Mr. Grimstone. I don't know much about it, but they seem to be badly burned."

"That they are, ma'am," Mr. Grimstone said when he had examined them; "pretty nigh raw. If I might give an opinion, I should say as the doctor had better see them; they are precious painful, aint they, George?"

"They do feel as if they were on fire, Bob, but I don't see any use in a doctor. I don't suppose he can do more than mother has."

"Perhaps not, George, but he had better see them for all that; he may give you some cooling lotion for them, and I can tell you burns on the hand are apt to be serious matters, for the muscles of the fingers may get stiffened. I have known two or three cases like that. You had better go at once to Dr. Maxwell; he always attends if there are any accidents at the works. You know the house, George; it is about halfway between this and the works."

"Yes, you had better go at once, boys," Mrs. Andrews said; "there, put on your hats and be off."

"I will walk with them. I must be off anyway, for the missis will be waiting dinner for me."

"Are we to pay, mother?"

"No, not till you have done, George. I dare say you will have to have your hands dressed several times."

"There won't be any occasion to pay him, Mrs. Andrews. The firm always pays the doctor in case of accidents, and you may be very sure that in this case they will be only too glad."

"Well, in any case, George," Mrs. Andrews said, "you can tell the doctor that you will pay when he says that you need not come to him again. If Mr. Penrose hears about it and chooses to pay I should not think of refusing, as you have been burned in his service; but certainly I should not assume that he will do so."

"Shall I go in with you, boys?" Bob asked when they reached the door. "I know the doctor; he attended me two years ago when I pretty nigh had my finger taken off by one of the cutters."

"Yes, please, Bob, I wish you would."

They were shown into the surgery, where the doctor soon joined them.

"I've brought these two young chaps for you to look at their hands, Dr. Maxwell. They got them burnt last night at the fire. Mrs. Andrews, the mother of this lad, wished me to say that she would pay the charges when you have done with them; but as if it hadn't been for them the works would have been burnt down as sure as you are standing there, I expect the firm will take the matter in their own hands."

"Yes, they are nasty burns," the doctor said, examining the boys' hands. "Can you open and shut them, boy?"

"I think I could if tried, sir," George said, "but I shouldn't like to try, for if I move my fingers at all it hurts them awfully."

"I see you have had oil and cotton-wool on your hands."

"Yes."

"The best thing you can do, boys, is to put on some soothing poultices. Tell your mother to get some linseed and mix it with olive-oil. I will give you a bottle of laudanum. Let her put about twenty drops of that into the oil before she mixes it with the linseed. Every four or five hours change the poultices. I think you will find that will relieve the pain a good deal. I see your faces are scorched too. You can do nothing better than keep them moistened with sweet-oil. I should advise you to keep as quiet as possible for three or four days."

"But we shall want to get to work, sir," George said.

"Nonsense! You will be very lucky if you can use your hands in another fortnight. I will send in the usual certificate to the works."

"Will you tell the foreman, Bob," George said when they left the doctor's, "how it is we can't come to work? You tell him we wanted to, and that we hope to come back as soon as our hands are all right; because, you see, the men and boys at the shops which have been burnt down will be all out of work, and it would be awful if we found our places filled up when we went to work again."

"Don't you be afraid, George; there is no fear of your being out of work after what you have done."

"Well, what did the doctor say?" was Mrs. Andrews' first question when they returned home.

"He didn't say much, mother, except that we must not think of going to work for a fortnight anyhow, and we are to have poultices made with linseed mixed with oil, and twenty drops of laudanum from this bottle, and it must be put on fresh every three or four hours. I am afraid it will be an awful trouble."

"The trouble won't matter," Mrs. Andrews said brightly. "Did he say you were to go to bed?"

"No, mother; but we were to keep as quiet as we could."

"Then in that case, George, I think you had better go to bed."

"No; I am sure we had better not," George said. "I should toss and fidget about there horridly. The best thing will be for us to sit here, and then we shall be all together. And if you talk to us, and perhaps read to us, we shan't feel it half so much. What are you going to do, mother?" he asked five minutes afterwards, as Mrs. Andrews came down with her bonnet on.

"I am going to get some linseed, George, of course. I haven't got any in the house."

"But it's Sunday, mother, and the shops will be shut."

"I shall get it at the chemist's, George. They will always supply things that are needed even on Sunday. People are ill on Sunday as well as any other day, you know. I shan't be gone more than a quarter of an hour. You must keep very quiet till I come back."

The boys found a good deal of relief from the effect of the poultices, and were very much better after a good night's rest. At ten o'clock the next morning, as Mrs. Andrews was sitting at her work, with the boys both on the hearthrug in front of the fire, there was a knock at the door. It was a loud double knock, quite unlike the ordinary summons of the baker's boy, who was the only regular caller. The boys jumped up in surprise.

"Who can that be, mother?"

"We shall soon see," Mrs. Andrews said quietly.

She was not surprised, on opening the door, to see a gentleman standing there, whom, by the description the boys had given of him, she guessed to be their employer. A little girl was standing by his side.

"Is this Mrs. Andrews?" the gentleman asked.

"I am Mrs. Andrews," the lady answered quietly.

"My name is Penrose. I have called with my daughter to inquire after the two lads – one of them your son, I believe – who so gallantly saved my place from being burned down on Saturday evening. I only heard about it late yesterday evening, when I came down to arrange about some matters with the foreman. He did not know the facts of the case on Saturday night, but had learned them yesterday, and there can be no doubt whatever, from what he says, that had it not been for the presence of mind and bravery of these two lads nothing could have saved the entire works and all the wood piles from destruction. I told my daughter this morning, and she insisted on coming down with me. You know she is already indebted to your son for saving a locket which we both greatly valued."

"Will you walk in, sir?" and Mrs. Andrews showed them into the sitting room.

Mr. Penrose had been somewhat surprised by Mrs. Andrews' manner, although the foreman, in telling him of the boys' conduct, had also stated what he knew about them.

"They are out-of-the-way sort of boys, sir," he said. "There was quite a talk about them in the shops in the spring. They lodged with Grimstone, and it seems that after they had been here at work five months Andrews' mother, who had been ill, was coming to them, and they got Grimstone to take a house for them, and it turned out that ever since they had been at work here they had been putting by half their wages to furnish a place for her, so they must have lived on about five shillings a week each and got clothes for themselves out of it. Now, sir, boys as would do that aint ordinary boys, and there was quite a talk among the men about it. I hear from Grimstone that Mrs. Andrews is a superior sort of person, he says quite a lady. She does work, I believe, for some London shop."

Mr. Penrose, therefore, was prepared to find the boys in a more comfortable abode than usual, and their mother what the foreman called a superior sort of woman; but he perceived at once by her address that Grimstone's estimate had been a correct one, and that she was indeed a lady. The prettiness of the little sitting room, with its comfortable furniture, its snowy curtains and pretty belongings, heightened this feeling.

"I have come to see you, boys," he said, "and to tell you how indebted I feel to you for your exertions on Saturday. There is no doubt that had it not been for you the place would have been entirely burned. It was fully insured, but it would have been a serious matter for me, as I should have lost four or five months' work, and it would have been still more serious for the men to have been thrown out of employment at this time of the year, so we all feel very much indebted to you. I hope you are not much burned."

"Oh, no, sir! our hands are burned a bit, but they will be all right in a few days. Bill and I are very glad, sir, that we happened to be passing, and were able to give the alarm and do something to stop the flames till the others came up; but we don't feel that it was anything out of the way. It was just a piece of fun and excitement to us."

"They didn't say anything about it, Mr. Penrose, when they came home, and it was only when one of the men came in next day to ask after them that I heard that they had really been of use."

"It is all very well to say so, lads," Mr. Penrose replied; "but there is no doubt you showed a great deal of courage, as well as presence of mind, and you may be sure that I shall not forget it. And now, Mrs. Andrews," he said, turning round to her, "I feel rather in a false position. I came round to see the lads, who, when I last saw them, were not in very flourishing circumstances, and I was going to make them a present for the service they had done me, and my daughter has brought them a basket with some wine, jelly, and other things such as are good for sick boys. Finding them as I find them, in your care and in such a home, you see I feel a difficulty about it altogether."

"Thank you, sir," Mrs. Andrews said, "for the kindness of your intention; but my boys – for although one is in no way related to me I feel towards him as if he were my own – would not like to take money for doing their duty towards their employer."

"No, indeed!" George and Bill exclaimed simultaneously.

"As you see, sir, thanks to the work you were good enough to give the boys and to my needle," – and she glanced towards the articles on the table, – "we are very comfortable; but I am sure the boys will be very glad to accept the things which your daughter has been so kind as to bring down for them, and will feel very much obliged for her thoughtfulness."

"That is right," Mr. Penrose said, relieved. "Nelly, you may as well leave the basket as it is. I am sure you don't want to carry it back again?"

"No, papa," Nelly said; and indeed even the empty basket would have been more than the child could well have carried. It had come on the top of the carriage to the railway-station, and a porter had accompanied Mr. Penrose with it to Laburnum Villas.

"You would have hardly known your young friend. Would you, Nelly?"

"I don't think I should," she said, shaking her head. "He looks dreadfully burned, and his hair is all funny and frizzled."

"It will soon grow again," George said, smiling. "The doctor says our faces will be all right when the skin is peeled off. Thank you very much, Miss Penrose, for all the nice things. It was a fortunate day indeed for us when I caught that boy stealing your locket."

"And it was a fortunate day for us too," Mr. Penrose responded. "Now, Mrs. Andrews, we will say good-by. You will not mind my calling again to see how the boys are getting on?"

"It will be very kind of you, sir, and we shall be glad to see you," Mrs. Andrews replied; "but I hope in a few days they will both be out of the doctor's hands."

"I can't shake hands with you," Mr. Penrose said, patting the boys on the shoulder, "but I hope next time I see you to be able to do so. Good-morning, Mrs. Andrews."

CHAPTER VII.

SAVED!

"Now let us have a look at the basket, mother," George said as Mrs. Andrews returned into the room after seeing her two visitors off. "It's very kind of him, isn't it? and I am glad he didn't offer us money; that would have been horrid, wouldn't it?"

"I am glad he did not, too, George. Mr. Penrose is evidently a gentleman of delicacy and refinement of feeling, and he saw that he would give pain if he did so."

"You see it too, don't you, Bill?" George asked. "You know you thought I was a fool not to take money when he offered it for getting back the locket; but you see it in the same way now, don't you?"

"Yes; I shouldn't have liked to take money," Bill said. "I sees – "

"See," Mrs. Andrews corrected.

"Thank you. I see things different – differently," he corrected himself, seeing that George was about to speak, "to what I did then."

"Now, mother," George said, "let us open the basket; it's almost as big as a clothes-basket, isn't it?"

The cover was lifted and the contents, which had after much thought been settled by Nelly herself, were disclosed. There were two bottles of port-wine, a large mold of jelly, a great cake, two dozen oranges, some apples, a box of preserved fruit, some almonds and raisins, two packets of Everton toffee, a dozen mince-pies, and four pots of black-currant jelly, on the cover of one of which was written in a sprawling hand, "Two teaspoonfuls stirred up in a tumbler of water for a drink at night."

"This will make a grand feast, mother; what a jolly collection, isn't it? I think Miss Penrose must have chosen it herself, don't you?"

"It certainly looks like it, George," Mrs. Andrews replied, smiling. "I do not think any grownup person would have chosen mince-pies and toffee as appropriate for sick boys."

"Yes; but she must have known we were not badly burned, mother; and besides, you see, she put in currant-jelly to make drinks, and there are the oranges too. I vote that we have an orange and some toffee at once, Bill."

"I have tasted oranges," Bill said, "lots of them in the market, but I never tasted toffee."

"It's first-rate, I can tell you."

"Why, they look like bits of tin," Bill said as the packet was opened.

George burst into a laugh.

"That's tin-foil, that's only to wrap it up; you peel that off, Bill, and you will find the toffee inside. Now, mother, you have a glass of wine and a piece of cake."

"I will have a piece of cake, George; but I am not going to open the wine. We will put that by in case of illness or of any very extraordinary occasion."

"I am glad the other things won't keep, mother, or I expect you would be wanting to put them all away. Isn't this toffee good, Bill?"

"First-rate," Bill agreed. "What is it made of?"

"Sugar and butter melted together over the fire."

"You are like two children," Mrs. Andrews laughed, "instead of boys getting on for sixteen years old. Now I must clear this table again and get to work; I promised these four bonnets should be sent in to-morrow morning, and there's lots to be done to them yet."

It was three weeks before the boys were able to go to work again. The foreman came round on Saturdays with their wages. Mr. Penrose called again; this time they were out, but he chatted for some time with Mrs. Andrews.

"I don't wish to pry into your affairs, Mrs. Andrews," he said, after asking about the boys; "but I have a motive for asking if your son has, as I suppose he has, from his way of speaking, had a fair education."

"He was at school up to the age of twelve," Mrs. Andrews said quietly; "circumstances at that time obliged me to remove him; but I have since done what I could myself towards continuing his education, and he still works regularly of an evening."

"Why I ask, Mrs. Andrews, was that I should like in time to place him in the counting-house. I say in time, because I think it will be better for him for the next two or three years to continue to work in the shops. I will have him moved from shop to shop so as to learn thoroughly the various branches of the business. That is what I should do had I a son of my own to bring into the business. It will make him more valuable afterwards, and fit him to take a good position either in my shops or in any similar business should an opening occur."

"I am greatly obliged to you, sir," Mrs. Andrews said gratefully; "though I say it myself, a better boy never lived."

"I am sure he is by what I have heard of him, and I shall be only too glad, after the service he has rendered me, to do everything in my power to push him forward. His friend, I hear, has not had the same advantages. At the time I first saw him he looked a regular young arab."

"So he was, sir; but he is a fine young fellow. He was very kind to my boy when he was alone in London, and gave up his former life to be with him. George taught him to read before I came here, and he has worked hard ever since. No one could be nicer in the house than he is, and had I been his own mother he could not be more dutiful or anxious to please. Indeed I may say that I am indebted for my home here as much to him as to my own boy."

"I am glad to hear you say so, Mrs. Andrews, for of course I should wish to do something for him too. At any rate, I will give him, like your son, every opportunity of learning the business, and he will in time be fit for a position of foreman of a shop – by no means a bad one for a lad who has had such a beginning as he has had. After that, of course, it must depend upon himself. I think, if you will allow me to suggest, it would be as well that you should not tell them the nature of our conversation. Of course it is for you to decide; but, however steady boys they are, it might make them a little less able to get on well with their associates in a shop if they know that they are going to be advanced."

"I don't think it would make any difference to them, sir; but at the same time I do think it would be as well not to tell them."

One day Bill was out by himself as the men were coming out of the shop, and he stopped to speak to Bob Grimstone.

"Oh! I am glad to find you without George," Bob said; "'cause I want to talk to you. Look here! the men in all the shops have made a subscription to give you and George a present. Everyone feels that it's your doing that we have not got to idle all this winter, and when someone started the idea there wasn't a man in the two shops that didn't agree with him. I am the treasurer, I am, and it's come to just thirty pounds. Now I don't know what you two boys would like, whether you would like it in money, or whether you would like it in something else, so I thought I would ask you first. I thought you would know what George would like, seeing what friends you are, and then you know it would come as a surprise to him. Now, what do you say?"

"Its very kind of you," Bill said. "I am sure George would like anything better than money, and so should I."

"Well, you think it over, Bill, and let me know in a day or two. We were thinking of a watch for each of you, with an inscription, saying it was presented to you by your shopmates for having saved the factory, and so kept them at work for months just at the beginning of winter. That's what seemed to me that you would like; but if there is anything you would like better, just you say so. You come down here to-morrow or next day, when you have thought it over, and give me an answer. Of course you can consult George if you think best."

Bill met Bob Grimstone on the following day.

"I have thought it over," he said, "and I know what George and me would like better than any possible thing you could get."

"Well, what is it, Bill?"

"Well, what we have set our minds on, and what we were going to save up our money to get, was a piano for George's mother. I heard her say that we could get a very nice one for about thirty pounds, and it would be splendid if you were all to give it her."

"Very well, Bill, then a piano it shall be. I know a chap as works at Kirkman's, and I expect he will be able to give us a good one for the money."

Accordingly on the Saturday afternoon before the boys were going to work again, Mrs. Andrews and George were astonished at seeing a cart stop before the house, and the foreman, Bob Grimstone, and four other men coming up to the door.

Bill ran and opened the door, and the men entered. He had been apprised of the time that they might be expected, and at once showed them in.

"Mrs. Andrews," the foreman said, "I and my mates here are a deputation from the hands employed in the shop, and we have come to offer you a little sort of testimonial of what we feel we owe your son and Bill Smith for putting out the fire and saving the shops. If it hadn't been for them it would have been a bad winter for us all. So after thinking it over and finding out what form of testimonial the lads would like best, we have got you a piano, which we hope you may live long to play on and enjoy. We had proposed to give them a watch each; but we found that they would rather that it took the form of a piano."

"Oh, how good and kind of you all!" Mrs. Andrews said, much affected. "I shall indeed be proud of your gift, both for itself and for the kind feeling towards my boys which it expresses."

"Then, ma'am, with your permission we will just bring it in;" and the deputation retired to assist with the piano.

"Oh, boys, how could you do it without telling me!" Mrs. Andrews exclaimed.

George had hitherto stood speechless with surprise.

"But I didn't know anything about it, mother. I don't know what they mean by saying that we would rather have it than watches. Of course we would, a hundred times; but I don't know how they knew it."

"Then it must have been your kind thought, Bill."

"It wasn't no kind thought, Mrs. Andrews, but they spoke to me about it, and I knew that a piano was what we should like better than anything else, and I didn't say anything about it, because Bob Grimstone thought that it would be nicer to be a surprise to George as well as to you."

"You are right, old boy," George said, shaking Bill by the hand; "why, there never was such a good idea; it is splendid, mother, isn't it?"

The men now appeared at the door with the piano. This was at once placed in the position which had long ago been decided upon as the best place for the piano when it should come. Mrs. Andrews opened it, and there on the front was a silver plate with the inscription:

"To Mrs. Andrews from the Employees at Messrs. Penrose & Co., in token of their gratitude to George Andrews and William Smith for their courage and presence of mind, by which the factory was saved from being destroyed by fire on Saturday the 23d of October, 1857."

The tears which stood in Mrs. Andrews' eyes rendered it difficult for her to read the inscription.

"I thank you, indeed," she said. "Now, perhaps you would like to hear its tones." So saying she sat down and played "Home, Sweet Home." "It has a charming touch," she said as she rose, "and, you see, the air was an appropriate one, for your gift will serve to make home even sweeter than before. Give, please, my grateful thanks, and those of my boys, to all who have subscribed."

The inhabitants of No. 8 Laburnum Villas had long been a subject of considerable discussion and interest to their neighbors, for the appearance of the boys as they came home of an evening in their working clothes seemed altogether incongruous with that of their mother and with the neatness and prettiness of the villa, and was, indeed, considered derogatory to the respectability of Laburnum Villas in general. Upon this evening they were still further mystified at hearing the notes of a female voice of great power and sweetness, accompanied by a piano, played evidently by an accomplished musician, issuing from the house. As to the boys, they thought that, next only to that of the home-coming of Mrs. Andrews, never was such a happy evening spent in the world.

I do not think that in all London there was a household that enjoyed that winter more than did the inmates of No. 8 Laburnum Villas. Their total earnings were about thirty-five shillings a week, much less than that of many a mechanic, but ample for them not only to live, but to live in comfort and even refinement. No stranger, who had looked into the pretty drawing room in the evening, would have dreamed that the lady at the piano worked as a milliner for her living, or that the lads were boys in a manufactory.