SENTIMENTAL TOMMY & Its Sequel, Tommy and Grizel (Illustrated Edition). J. M. Barrie

difficult to keep away from him.

      He also contrived to enrage the less genteel boys of Monypenny. Their leader was Corp Shiach, three years Tommy's senior, who had never been inside a school except once, when he broke hopefully into Ballingall's because of a stirring rumor (nothing in it) that the dominie had hangit himself with his remaining brace; then in order of merit came Birkie Fleemister; then, perhaps, the smith's family, called the Haggerty-Taggertys, they were such slovens. When school was over Tommy frequently stepped out of his boots and stockings, so that he no longer looked offensively genteel, and then Monypenny was willing to let him join in spyo, smuggle bools, kickbonnety, peeries, the preens, suckers pilly, or whatever game was in season, even to the baiting of the Painted Lady, but they would not have Elspeth, who should have been content to play dumps with the female Haggerty-Taggertys, but could enjoy no game of which Tommy was not the larger half. Many times he deserted her for manlier joys, but though she was out of sight he could not forget her longing face, and soon he sneaked off to her; he upbraided her, but he stayed with her. They bore with him for a time, but when they discovered that she had persuaded him (after prayer) to put back the spug's eggs which he had brought home in triumph, then they drove him from their company, and for a long time afterwards his deadly enemy was the hard-hitting Corp Shiach.

      Elspeth was not invited to attend the readings of "I Love My Love with an A," perhaps because there were so many words in it that she had no concern with, but she knew they ended as the eight-o'clock bell began to ring, and it was her custom to meet Tommy a few yards from Aaron's door. Farther she durst not venture in the gloaming through fear of the Painted Lady, for Aaron's house was not far from the fearsome lane that led to Double Dykes, and even the big boys who made faces at this woman by day ran from her in the dusk. Creepy tales were told of what happened to those on whom she cast a blighting eye before they could touch cold iron, and Tommy was one of many who kept a bit of cold iron from the smithy handy in his pocket. On his way home from the readings he never had occasion to use it, but at these times he sometimes met Grizel, who liked to do her shopping in the evenings when her persecutors were more easily eluded, and he forced her to speak to him. Not her loneliness appealed to him, but that look of admiration she had given him when he was astride of Francie Crabb. For such a look he could pardon many rebuffs; without it no praise greatly pleased him; he was always on the outlook for it.

      "I warrant," he said to her one evening, "you want to have some man-body to take care of you the way I take care of Elspeth."

      "No, I don't," she replied, promptly.

      "Would you no like somebody to love you?"

      "Do you mean kissing?" she asked.

      "There's better things in it than that," he said guardedly; "but if you want kissing, I—I—Elspeth'll kiss you."

      "Will she want to do it?" inquired Grizel, a little wistfully.

      "I'll make her do it," Tommy said.

      "I don't want her to do it," cried Grizel, and he could not draw another word from her. However he was sure she thought him a wonder, and when next they met he challenged her with it.

      "Do you not now?"

      "I won't tell you," answered Grizel, who was never known to lie.

      "You think I'm a wonder," Tommy persisted, "but you dinna want me to know you think it."

      Grizel rocked her arms, a quaint way she had when excited, and she blurted out, "How do you know?"

      The look he liked had come back to her face, but he had no time to enjoy it, for just then Elspeth appeared, and Elspeth's jealousy was easily aroused.

      "I dinna ken you, lassie," he said coolly to Grizel, and left her stamping her foot at him. She decided never to speak to Tommy again, but the next time they met he took her into the Den and taught her how to fight.

      It is painful to have to tell that Miss Ailie was the person who provided him with the opportunity. In the readings they arrived one evening at the scene in the conservatory, which has not a single Stroke in it, but is so full of Words We have no Concern with that Tommy reeled home blinking, and next day so disgracefully did he flounder in his lessons that the gentle school-mistress cast up her arms in despair.

      "I don't know what to say to you," she exclaimed.

      "Fine I know what you want to say," he retorted, and unfortunately she asked, "What?"

      "Stroke!" he replied, leering horridly.

      "I Love My Love with an A" was returned to the club forthwith (whether he really did have a wife in India Miss Ailie never knew) and "Judd on the Shorter Catechism" took its place. But mark the result. The readings ended at a quarter to eight now, at twenty to eight, at half-past seven, and so Tommy could loiter on the way home without arousing Elspeth's suspicion. One evening he saw Grizel cutting her way through the Haggerty-Taggerty group, and he offered to come to her aid if she would say "Help me." But she refused.

      When, however, the Haggerty-Taggertys were gone she condescended to say, "I shall never, never ask you to help me, but—if you like—you can show me how to hit without biting my tongue."

      "I'll learn you Shovel's curly ones," replied Tommy, cordially, and he adjourned with her to the Den for that purpose. He said he chose the Den so that Corp Shiach and the others might not interrupt them, but it was Elspeth he was thinking of.

      "You are like Miss Ailie with her cane when she is pandying," he told Grizel. "You begin well, but you slacken just when you are going to hit."

      "It is because my hand opens," Grizel said.

      "And then it ends in a shove," said her mentor, severely. "You should close your fists like this, with the thumbs inside, and then play dab, this way, that way, yon way. That's what Shovel calls, 'You want it, take it, you've got it.'"

      Thus did the hunted girl get her first lesson in scientific warfare in the Den, and neither she nor Tommy saw the pathos of it. Other lessons followed, and during the rests Grizel told Tommy all that she knew about herself. He had won her confidence at last by—by swearing dagont that he was English also.

      Chapter XV.

       The Man Who Never Came

       Table of Contents

      "Is it true that your mother's a bonny swearer?"

      Tommy wanted to find out all about the Painted Lady, and the best way was to ask.

      "She does not always swear," Grizel said eagerly. "She sometimes says sweet, sweet things."

      "What kind of things?"

      "I won't tell you."

      "Tell me one."

      "Well, then, 'Beloved.'"

      "Word We have no Concern with," murmured Tommy. He was shocked, but still curious. "Does she say 'Beloved' to you?" he inquired.

      "No, she says it to him."

      "Him! Wha is he?" Tommy thought he was at the beginning of a discovery, but she answered, uncomfortably,

      "I don't know."

      "But you've seen him?"

      "No, he—he is not there."

      "Not there! How can she speak to him if he's no there?"

      "She thinks he is there. He—he comes on a horse."

      "What is the horse like?"

      "There is no horse."

      "But you said—"

      "She just thinks there is a horse. She hears it."

      "Do you ever hear it?"

      "No."

      The girl was looking imploringly into Tommy's face as if begging it to say that these things need not terrify her, but what he wanted was information.

      "What