Chapter 7 - The Last Of Timothy
So accomplished a person as the reader must have seen at oncethat I made away with Timothy in order to give his little vestsand pinafores and shoes to David, and, therefore, dear sir ormadam, rail not overmuch at me for causing our painter pain. Know, too, that though his sympathy ran free I soon discoveredmany of his inquiries to be prompted by a mere selfish desire tosave his boy from the fate of mine. Such are parents.
He asked compassionately if there was anything he could do forme, and, of course, there was something he could do, but were Ito propose it I doubted not he would be on his stilts at once,for already I had reason to know him for a haughty, sensitivedog, who ever became high at the first hint of help. So theproposal must come from him. I spoke of the many little thingsin the house that were now hurtful to me to look upon, and heclutched my hand, deeply moved, though it was another house withits little things he saw. I was ashamed to harass him thus, buthe had not a sufficiency of the little things, and besides myimpulsiveness had plunged me into a deuce of a mess, so I went ondistastefully. Was there no profession in this age of specialismfor taking away children's garments from houses where they weresuddenly become a pain? Could I sell them? Could I give them tothe needy, who would probably dispose of them for gin? I toldhim of a friend with a young child who had already refused thembecause it would be unpleasant to him to be reminded of Timothy,and I think this was what touched him to the quick, so that hemade the offer I was waiting for.
I had done it with a heavy foot, and by this time was in a ragewith both him and myself, but I always was a bungler, and, havingadopted this means in a hurry, I could at the time see no othereasy way out. Timothy's hold on life, as you may haveapprehended, was ever of the slightest, and I suppose I alwaysknew that he must soon revert to the obscure. He could neverhave penetrated into the open. It was no life for a boy.
Yet now, that his time had come, I was loath to see him go. Iseem to remember carrying him that evening to the window withuncommon tenderness (following the setting sun that was to takehim away), and telling him with not unnatural bitterness that hehad got to leave me because another child was in need of all hispretty things; and as the sun, his true father, lapt him in itsdancing arms, he sent his love to a lady of long ago whom hecalled by the sweetest of names, not knowing in his innocencethat the little white birds are the birds that never have amother. I wished (so had the phantasy of Timothy takenpossession of me) that before he went he could have played oncein the Kensington Gardens, and have ridden on the fallen trees,calling gloriously to me to look; that he could have sailed onepaper-galleon on the Round Pond; fain would I have had him chaseone hoop a little way down the laughing avenues of childhood,where memory tells us we run but once, on a long summer-day,emerging at the other end as men and women with all the fun topay for; and I think (thus fancy wantons with me in thesedesolate chambers) he knew my longings, and said with a boy-likeflush that the reason he never did these things was not that hewas afraid, for he would have loved to do them all, but becausehe was not quite like other boys; and, so saying, he let go myfinger and faded from before my eyes into another and goldenether; but I shall ever hold that had he been quite like otherboys there would have been none braver than my Timothy.
I fear I am not truly brave myself, for though when under fire,so far as I can recollect, I behaved as others, morally I seem tobe deficient. So I discovered next day when I attempted to buyDavid's outfit, and found myself as shy of entering the shop asany Mary at the pawnbroker's. The shop for little garments seemsvery alarming when you reach the door; a man abruptly become aparent, and thus lost to a finer sense of the proprieties, may beable to stalk in unprotected, but apparently I could not. Indeed, I have allowed a repugnance to entering shops of anykind, save my tailor's, to grow on me, and to my tailor's I fearI go too frequently.
So I skulked near the shop of the little garments, jeering atmyself, and it was strange to me to reflect at, say, threeo'clock that if I had been brazen at half-past two all would nowbe over.
To show what was my state, take the case of the very gentleman-like man whom I detected gazing fixedly at me, or so I thought,just as I had drawn valiantly near the door. I sauntered away,but when I returned he was still there, which seemed conclusiveproof that he had smoked my purpose. Sternly controlling mytemper I bowed, and said with icy politeness, "You have theadvantage of me, sir."
"I beg your pardon," said he, and I am now persuaded that mywords turned his attention to me for the first time, but at themoment I was sure some impertinent meaning lurked behind hisanswer.
"I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance," I barked.
"No one regrets it more than I do," he replied, laughing.
"I mean, sir," said I, "that I shall wait here until you retire,"and with that I put my back to a shop-window.
By this time he was grown angry, and said he, "I have noengagement," and he put his back to the shop-window. Each of uswas doggedly determined to tire the other out, and we must havelooked ridiculous. We also felt it, for ten minutes afterward,our passions having died away, we shook hands cordially andagreed to call hansoms.
Must I abandon the enterprise? Certainly I knew divers ladieswho would make the purchases for me, but first I must explain,and, rather than explain it has ever been my custom to dowithout. I was in this despondency when a sudden recollection ofIrene and Mrs. Hicking heartened me like a cordial, for I saw inthem at once the engine and decoy by which David should procurehis outfit.
You must be told who they were.