The Holly Tree

C >> Charles Dickens >> The Holly Tree


"Cobbs," said Master Harry, one evening, when Cobbs was watering the
flowers, "I am going on a visit, this present Midsummer, to my
grandmamma's at York."

"Are you indeed, sir? I hope you'll have a pleasant time. I am going
into Yorkshire, myself, when I leave here."

"Are you going to your grandmamma's, Cobbs?"

"No, sir. I haven't got such a thing."

"Not as a grandmamma, Cobbs?"

"No, sir."

The boy looked on at the watering of the flowers for a little while, and
then said, "I shall be very glad indeed to go, Cobbs,--Norah's going."

"You'll be all right then, sir," says Cobbs, "with your beautiful
sweetheart by your side."

"Cobbs," returned the boy, flushing, "I never let anybody joke about it,
when I can prevent them."

"It wasn't a joke, sir," says Cobbs, with humility,--"wasn't so meant."

"I am glad of that, Cobbs, because I like you, you know, and you're going
to live with us.--Cobbs!"

"Sir."

"What do you think my grandmamma gives me when I go down there?"

"I couldn't so much as make a guess, sir."

"A Bank of England five-pound note, Cobbs."

"Whew!" says Cobbs, "that's a spanking sum of money, Master Harry."

"A person could do a good deal with such a sum of money as that,--couldn't
a person, Cobbs?"

"I believe you, sir!"

"Cobbs," said the boy, "I'll tell you a secret. At Norah's house, they
have been joking her about me, and pretending to laugh at our being
engaged,--pretending to make game of it, Cobbs!"

"Such, sir," says Cobbs, "is the depravity of human natur."

The boy, looking exactly like his father, stood for a few minutes with
his glowing face towards the sunset, and then departed with, "Good-night,
Cobbs. I'm going in."

If I was to ask Boots how it happened that he was a-going to leave that
place just at that present time, well, he couldn't rightly answer me. He
did suppose he might have stayed there till now if he had been anyways
inclined. But, you see, he was younger then, and he wanted change.
That's what he wanted,--change. Mr. Walmers, he said to him when he gave
him notice of his intentions to leave, "Cobbs," he says, "have you
anythink to complain of? I make the inquiry because if I find that any
of my people really has anythink to complain of, I wish to make it right
if I can." "No, sir," says Cobbs; "thanking you, sir, I find myself as
well sitiwated here as I could hope to be anywheres. The truth is, sir,
that I'm a-going to seek my fortun'." "O, indeed, Cobbs!" he says; "I
hope you may find it." And Boots could assure me--which he did, touching
his hair with his bootjack, as a salute in the way of his present
calling--that he hadn't found it yet.

Well, sir! Boots left the Elmses when his time was up, and Master Harry,
he went down to the old lady's at York, which old lady would have given
that child the teeth out of her head (if she had had any), she was so
wrapped up in him. What does that Infant do,--for Infant you may call
him and be within the mark,--but cut away from that old lady's with his
Norah, on a expedition to go to Gretna Green and be married!

Sir, Boots was at this identical Holly-Tree Inn (having left it several
times since to better himself, but always come back through one thing or
another), when, one summer afternoon, the coach drives up, and out of the
coach gets them two children. The Guard says to our Governor, "I don't
quite make out these little passengers, but the young gentleman's words
was, that they was to be brought here." The young gentleman gets out;
hands his lady out; gives the Guard something for himself; says to our
Governor, "We're to stop here to-night, please. Sitting-room and two
bedrooms will be required. Chops and cherry-pudding for two!" and tucks
her, in her sky-blue mantle, under his arm, and walks into the house much
bolder than Brass.

Boots leaves me to judge what the amazement of that establishment was,
when these two tiny creatures all alone by themselves was marched into
the Angel,--much more so, when he, who had seen them without their seeing
him, give the Governor his views of the expedition they was upon.
"Cobbs," says the Governor, "if this is so, I must set off myself to
York, and quiet their friends' minds. In which case you must keep your
eye upon 'em, and humour 'em, till I come back. But before I take these
measures, Cobbs, I should wish you to find from themselves whether your
opinion is correct." "Sir, to you," says Cobbs, "that shall be done
directly."

So Boots goes up-stairs to the Angel, and there he finds Master Harry on
a e-normous sofa,--immense at any time, but looking like the Great Bed of
Ware, compared with him,--a drying the eyes of Miss Norah with his pocket-
hankecher. Their little legs was entirely off the ground, of course, and
it really is not possible for Boots to express to me how small them
children looked.

"It's Cobbs! It's Cobbs!" cries Master Harry, and comes running to him,
and catching hold of his hand. Miss Norah comes running to him on
t'other side and catching hold of his t'other hand, and they both jump
for joy.

"I see you a getting out, sir," says Cobbs. "I thought it was you. I
thought I couldn't be mistaken in your height and figure. What's the
object of your journey, sir?--Matrimonial?"

"We are going to be married, Cobbs, at Gretna Green," returned the boy.
"We have run away on purpose. Norah has been in rather low spirits,
Cobbs; but she'll be happy, now we have found you to be our friend."

"Thank you, sir, and thank you, miss," says Cobbs, "for your good
opinion. _Did_ you bring any luggage with you, sir?"

If I will believe Boots when he gives me his word and honour upon it, the
lady had got a parasol, a smelling-bottle, a round and a half of cold
buttered toast, eight peppermint drops, and a hair-brush,--seemingly a
doll's. The gentleman had got about half a dozen yards of string, a
knife, three or four sheets of writing-paper folded up surprising small,
a orange, and a Chaney mug with his name upon it.

"What may be the exact natur of your plans, sir?" says Cobbs.

"To go on," replied the boy,--which the courage of that boy was something
wonderful!--"in the morning, and be married to-morrow."

"Just so, sir," says Cobbs. "Would it meet your views, sir, if I was to
accompany you?"

When Cobbs said this, they both jumped for joy again, and cried out, "Oh,
yes, yes, Cobbs! Yes!"

"Well, sir," says Cobbs. "If you will excuse my having the freedom to
give an opinion, what I should recommend would be this. I'm acquainted
with a pony, sir, which, put in a pheayton that I could borrow, would
take you and Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior, (myself driving, if you
approved,) to the end of your journey in a very short space of time. I
am not altogether sure, sir, that this pony will be at liberty to-morrow,
but even if you had to wait over to-morrow for him, it might be worth
your while. As to the small account here, sir, in case you was to find
yourself running at all short, that don't signify; because I'm a part
proprietor of this inn, and it could stand over."

Boots assures me that when they clapped their hands, and jumped for joy
again, and called him "Good Cobbs!" and "Dear Cobbs!" and bent across him
to kiss one another in the delight of their confiding hearts, he felt
himself the meanest rascal for deceiving 'em that ever was born.

"Is there anything you want just at present, sir?" says Cobbs, mortally
ashamed of himself.

"We should like some cakes after dinner," answered Master Harry, folding
his arms, putting out one leg, and looking straight at him, "and two
apples,--and jam. With dinner we should like to have toast-and-water.
But Norah has always been accustomed to half a glass of currant wine at
dessert. And so have I."

"It shall be ordered at the bar, sir," says Cobbs; and away he went.

Boots has the feeling as fresh upon him at this minute of speaking as he
had then, that he would far rather have had it out in half-a-dozen rounds
with the Governor than have combined with him; and that he wished with
all his heart there was any impossible place where those two babies could
make an impossible marriage, and live impossibly happy ever afterwards.
However, as it couldn't be, he went into the Governor's plans, and the
Governor set off for York in half an hour.

The way in which the women of that house--without exception--every one of
'em--married _and_ single--took to that boy when they heard the story,
Boots considers surprising. It was as much as he could do to keep 'em
from dashing into the room and kissing him. They climbed up all sorts of
places, at the risk of their lives, to look at him through a pane of
glass. They was seven deep at the keyhole. They was out of their minds
about him and his bold spirit.

In the evening, Boots went into the room to see how the runaway couple
was getting on. The gentleman was on the window-seat, supporting the
lady in his arms. She had tears upon her face, and was lying, very tired
and half asleep, with her head upon his shoulder.

"Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior, fatigued, sir?" says Cobbs.

"Yes, she is tired, Cobbs; but she is not used to be away from home, and
she has been in low spirits again. Cobbs, do you think you could bring a
biffin, please?"

"I ask your pardon, sir," says Cobbs. "What was it you--?"

"I think a Norfolk biffin would rouse her, Cobbs. She is very fond of
them."

Boots withdrew in search of the required restorative, and when he brought
it in, the gentleman handed it to the lady, and fed her with a spoon, and
took a little himself; the lady being heavy with sleep, and rather cross.
"What should you think, sir," says Cobbs, "of a chamber candlestick?" The
gentleman approved; the chambermaid went first, up the great staircase;
the lady, in her sky-blue mantle, followed, gallantly escorted by the
gentleman; the gentleman embraced her at her door, and retired to his own
apartment, where Boots softly locked him up.

Boots couldn't but feel with increased acuteness what a base deceiver he
was, when they consulted him at breakfast (they had ordered sweet milk-
and-water, and toast and currant jelly, overnight) about the pony. It
really was as much as he could do, he don't mind confessing to me, to
look them two young things in the face, and think what a wicked old
father of lies he had grown up to be. Howsomever, he went on a lying
like a Trojan about the pony. He told 'em that it did so unfortunately
happen that the pony was half clipped, you see, and that he couldn't be
taken out in that state, for fear it should strike to his inside. But
that he'd be finished clipping in the course of the day, and that
to-morrow morning at eight o'clock the pheayton would be ready. Boots's
view of the whole case, looking back on it in my room, is, that Mrs.
Harry Walmers, Junior, was beginning to give in. She hadn't had her hair
curled when she went to bed, and she didn't seem quite up to brushing it
herself, and its getting in her eyes put her out. But nothing put out
Master Harry. He sat behind his breakfast-cup, a tearing away at the
jelly, as if he had been his own father.

After breakfast, Boots is inclined to consider that they drawed
soldiers,--at least, he knows that many such was found in the fire-place,
all on horseback. In the course of the morning, Master Harry rang the
bell,--it was surprising how that there boy did carry on,--and said, in a
sprightly way, "Cobbs, is there any good walks in this neighbourhood?"

"Yes, sir," says Cobbs. "There's Love Lane."

"Get out with you, Cobbs!"--that was that there boy's expression,--"you're
joking."

"Begging your pardon, sir," says Cobbs, "there really is Love Lane. And
a pleasant walk it is, and proud shall I be to show it to yourself and
Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior."

"Norah, dear," said Master Harry, "this is curious. We really ought to
see Love Lane. Put on your bonnet, my sweetest darling, and we will go
there with Cobbs."

Boots leaves me to judge what a Beast he felt himself to be, when that
young pair told him, as they all three jogged along together, that they
had made up their minds to give him two thousand guineas a year as head-
gardener, on accounts of his being so true a friend to 'em. Boots could
have wished at the moment that the earth would have opened and swallowed
him up, he felt so mean, with their beaming eyes a looking at him, and
believing him. Well, sir, he turned the conversation as well as he
could, and he took 'em down Love Lane to the water-meadows, and there
Master Harry would have drowned himself in half a moment more, a getting
out a water-lily for her,--but nothing daunted that boy. Well, sir, they
was tired out. All being so new and strange to 'em, they was tired as
tired could be. And they laid down on a bank of daisies, like the
children in the wood, leastways meadows, and fell asleep.

Boots don't know--perhaps I do,--but never mind, it don't signify either
way--why it made a man fit to make a fool of himself to see them two
pretty babies a lying there in the clear still sunny day, not dreaming
half so hard when they was asleep as they done when they was awake. But,
Lord! when you come to think of yourself, you know, and what a game you
have been up to ever since you was in your own cradle, and what a poor
sort of a chap you are, and how it's always either Yesterday with you, or
else To-morrow, and never To-day, that's where it is!

Well, sir, they woke up at last, and then one thing was getting pretty
clear to Boots, namely, that Mrs. Harry Walmerses, Junior's, temper was
on the move. When Master Harry took her round the waist, she said he
"teased her so;" and when he says, "Norah, my young May Moon, your Harry
tease you?" she tells him, "Yes; and I want to go home!"

A biled fowl, and baked bread-and-butter pudding, brought Mrs. Walmers up
a little; but Boots could have wished, he must privately own to me, to
have seen her more sensible of the woice of love, and less abandoning of
herself to currants. However, Master Harry, he kept up, and his noble
heart was as fond as ever. Mrs. Walmers turned very sleepy about dusk,
and began to cry. Therefore, Mrs. Walmers went off to bed as per
yesterday; and Master Harry ditto repeated.

About eleven or twelve at night comes back the Governor in a chaise,
along with Mr. Walmers and a elderly lady. Mr. Walmers looks amused and
very serious, both at once, and says to our missis, "We are much indebted
to you, ma'am, for your kind care of our little children, which we can
never sufficiently acknowledge. Pray, ma'am, where is my boy?" Our
missis says, "Cobbs has the dear child in charge, sir. Cobbs, show
Forty!" Then he says to Cobbs, "Ah, Cobbs, I am glad to see _you_! I
understood you was here!" And Cobbs says, "Yes, sir. Your most
obedient, sir."

I may be surprised to hear Boots say it, perhaps; but Boots assures me
that his heart beat like a hammer, going up-stairs. "I beg your pardon,
sir," says he, while unlocking the door; "I hope you are not angry with
Master Harry. For Master Harry is a fine boy, sir, and will do you
credit and honour." And Boots signifies to me, that, if the fine boy's
father had contradicted him in the daring state of mind in which he then
was, he thinks he should have "fetched him a crack," and taken the
consequences.

But Mr. Walmers only says, "No, Cobbs. No, my good fellow. Thank you!"
And, the door being opened, goes in.

Boots goes in too, holding the light, and he sees Mr. Walmers go up to
the bedside, bend gently down, and kiss the little sleeping face. Then
he stands looking at it for a minute, looking wonderfully like it (they
do say he ran away with Mrs. Walmers); and then he gently shakes the
little shoulder.

"Harry, my dear boy! Harry!"

Master Harry starts up and looks at him. Looks at Cobbs too. Such is
the honour of that mite, that he looks at Cobbs, to see whether he has
brought him into trouble.

"I am not angry, my child. I only want you to dress yourself and come
home."

"Yes, pa."

Master Harry dresses himself quickly. His breast begins to swell when he
has nearly finished, and it swells more and more as he stands, at last, a
looking at his father: his father standing a looking at him, the quiet
image of him.

"Please may I"--the spirit of that little creatur, and the way he kept
his rising tears down!--"please, dear pa--may I--kiss Norah before I go?"

"You may, my child."

So he takes Master Harry in his hand, and Boots leads the way with the
candle, and they come to that other bedroom, where the elderly lady is
seated by the bed, and poor little Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior, is fast
asleep. There the father lifts the child up to the pillow, and he lays
his little face down for an instant by the little warm face of poor
unconscious little Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior, and gently draws it to
him,--a sight so touching to the chambermaids who are peeping through the
door, that one of them calls out, "It's a shame to part 'em!" But this
chambermaid was always, as Boots informs me, a soft-hearted one. Not
that there was any harm in that girl. Far from it.

Finally, Boots says, that's all about it. Mr. Walmers drove away in the
chaise, having hold of Master Harry's hand. The elderly lady and Mrs.
Harry Walmers, Junior, that was never to be (she married a Captain long
afterwards, and died in India), went off next day. In conclusion, Boots
put it to me whether I hold with him in two opinions: firstly, that there
are not many couples on their way to be married who are half as innocent
of guile as those two children; secondly, that it would be a jolly good
thing for a great many couples on their way to be married, if they could
only be stopped in time, and brought back separately.




THIRD BRANCH--THE BILL


I had been snowed up a whole week. The time had hung so lightly on my
hands, that I should have been in great doubt of the fact but for a piece
of documentary evidence that lay upon my table.

The road had been dug out of the snow on the previous day, and the
document in question was my bill. It testified emphatically to my having
eaten and drunk, and warmed myself, and slept among the sheltering
branches of the Holly-Tree, seven days and nights.

I had yesterday allowed the road twenty-four hours to improve itself,
finding that I required that additional margin of time for the completion
of my task. I had ordered my Bill to be upon the table, and a chaise to
be at the door, "at eight o'clock to-morrow evening." It was eight
o'clock to-morrow evening when I buckled up my travelling writing-desk in
its leather case, paid my Bill, and got on my warm coats and wrappers. Of
course, no time now remained for my travelling on to add a frozen tear to
the icicles which were doubtless hanging plentifully about the farmhouse
where I had first seen Angela. What I had to do was to get across to
Liverpool by the shortest open road, there to meet my heavy baggage and
embark. It was quite enough to do, and I had not an hour too much time
to do it in.

I had taken leave of all my Holly-Tree friends--almost, for the time
being, of my bashfulness too--and was standing for half a minute at the
Inn door watching the ostler as he took another turn at the cord which
tied my portmanteau on the chaise, when I saw lamps coming down towards
the Holly-Tree. The road was so padded with snow that no wheels were
audible; but all of us who were standing at the Inn door saw lamps coming
on, and at a lively rate too, between the walls of snow that had been
heaped up on either side of the track. The chambermaid instantly divined
how the case stood, and called to the ostler, "Tom, this is a Gretna
job!" The ostler, knowing that her sex instinctively scented a marriage,
or anything in that direction, rushed up the yard bawling, "Next four
out!" and in a moment the whole establishment was thrown into commotion.

I had a melancholy interest in seeing the happy man who loved and was
beloved; and therefore, instead of driving off at once, I remained at the
Inn door when the fugitives drove up. A bright-eyed fellow, muffled in a
mantle, jumped out so briskly that he almost overthrew me. He turned to
apologise, and, by heaven, it was Edwin!

"Charley!" said he, recoiling. "Gracious powers, what do you do here?"

"Edwin," said I, recoiling, "gracious powers, what do _you_ do here?" I
struck my forehead as I said it, and an insupportable blaze of light
seemed to shoot before my eyes.

He hurried me into the little parlour (always kept with a slow fire in it
and no poker), where posting company waited while their horses were
putting to, and, shutting the door, said:

"Charley, forgive me!"

"Edwin!" I returned. "Was this well? When I loved her so dearly! When
I had garnered up my heart so long!" I could say no more.

He was shocked when he saw how moved I was, and made the cruel
observation, that he had not thought I should have taken it so much to
heart.

I looked at him. I reproached him no more. But I looked at him. "My
dear, dear Charley," said he, "don't think ill of me, I beseech you! I
know you have a right to my utmost confidence, and, believe me, you have
ever had it until now. I abhor secrecy. Its meanness is intolerable to
me. But I and my dear girl have observed it for your sake."

He and his dear girl! It steeled me.

"You have observed it for my sake, sir?" said I, wondering how his frank
face could face it out so.

"Yes!--and Angela's," said he.

I found the room reeling round in an uncertain way, like a labouring,
humming-top. "Explain yourself," said I, holding on by one hand to an
arm-chair.

"Dear old darling Charley!" returned Edwin, in his cordial manner,
"consider! When you were going on so happily with Angela, why should I
compromise you with the old gentleman by making you a party to our
engagement, and (after he had declined my proposals) to our secret
intention? Surely it was better that you should be able honourably to
say, 'He never took counsel with me, never told me, never breathed a word
of it.' If Angela suspected it, and showed me all the favour and support
she could--God bless her for a precious creature and a priceless wife!--I
couldn't help that. Neither I nor Emmeline ever told her, any more than
we told you. And for the same good reason, Charley; trust me, for the
same good reason, and no other upon earth!"

Emmeline was Angela's cousin. Lived with her. Had been brought up with
her. Was her father's ward. Had property.

"Emmeline is in the chaise, my dear Edwin!" said I, embracing him with
the greatest affection.

"My good fellow!" said he, "do you suppose I should be going to Gretna
Green without her?"

I ran out with Edwin, I opened the chaise door, I took Emmeline in my
arms, I folded her to my heart. She was wrapped in soft white fur, like
the snowy landscape: but was warm, and young, and lovely. I put their
leaders to with my own hands, I gave the boys a five-pound note apiece, I
cheered them as they drove away, I drove the other way myself as hard as
I could pelt.

I never went to Liverpool, I never went to America, I went straight back
to London, and I married Angela. I have never until this time, even to
her, disclosed the secret of my character, and the mistrust and the
mistaken journey into which it led me. When she, and they, and our eight
children and their seven--I mean Edwin and Emmeline's, whose oldest girl
is old enough now to wear white for herself, and to look very like her
mother in it--come to read these pages, as of course they will, I shall
hardly fail to be found out at last. Never mind! I can bear it. I
began at the Holly-Tree, by idle accident, to associate the Christmas
time of year with human interest, and with some inquiry into, and some
care for, the lives of those by whom I find myself surrounded. I hope
that I am none the worse for it, and that no one near me or afar off is
the worse for it. And I say, May the green Holly-Tree flourish, striking
its roots deep into our English ground, and having its germinating
qualities carried by the birds of Heaven all over the world!