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    The Boots at the Holly Tree Inn

    by Charles Dickens
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    Where had he been in his time? he repeated, when I asked him the
    question, Lord, he had been everywhere! And what had he been? Bless
    you, he had been everything you could mention, a'most!

    Seen a good deal? Why, of course he had. I should say so, he could
    assure me, if I only knew about a twentieth part of what had come in
    _his_ way. Why, it would be easier for him, he expected, to tell what
    he hadn't seen than what he had. Ah! a deal, it would.

    What was the curiousest thing he had seen? Well! He didn't know.
    He couldn't momently name what was the curiousest thing he had
    seen--unless it was a Unicorn--and he see _him_ once at a fair. But
    supposing a young gentleman not eight year old was to run away with
    a fine young woman of seven, might I think _that_ a queer start?
    Certainly. Then that was a start as he himself had had his blessed
    eyes on, and he had cleaned the shoes they run away in--and they was
    so little he couldn't get his hand into 'em.

    Master Harry Walmers' father, you see, he lived at the Elmses, down
    away by Shooter's Hill there, six or seven miles from Lunnon. He was
    a gentleman of spirit, and good-looking, and held his head up when he
    walked, and had what you call Fire about him. He wrote poetry, and he
    rode, and he ran, and he cricketed, and he danced, and he acted, and
    he done it all equally beautiful. He was uncommon proud of Master
    Harry as was his only child; but he didn't spoil him neither. He was
    a gentleman that had a will of his own and a eye of his own, and that
    would be minded. Consequently, though he made quite a companion of the
    fine bright boy, and was delighted to see him so fond of reading his
    fairy-books, and was never tired of hearing him say my name is Norval,
    or hearing him sing his songs about Young May Moons is beaming love,
    and When he as adores thee has left but the name, and that; still he
    kept the command over the child, and the child _was_ a child, and it's
    to be wished more of 'em was.

    How did Boots happen to know all this? Why, through being
    under-gardener. Of course he couldn't be under-gardener, and he always
    about, in the summer-time, near the windows on the lawn, a-mowing, and
    sweeping, and weeding, and pruning, and this and that, without getting
    acquainted with the ways of the family. Even supposing Master Harry
    hadn't come to him one morning early, and said, "Cobbs, how should you
    spell Norah, if you was asked?" and then began cutting it in print all
    over the fence.

    He couldn't say that he had taken particular notice of children before
    that; but really it was pretty to see them two mites a-going about the
    place together, deep in love. And the courage of the boy! Bless your
    soul, he'd have throwed off his little hat, and tucked up his little
    sleeves, and gone in at a lion, he would, if they had happened to meet
    one, and she had been frightened of him. One day he stops, along with
    her, where Boots was hoeing weeds in the gravel, and says, speaking
    up, "Cobbs," he says, "I like _you." "Do_ you, sir? I'm proud to hear
    it." "Yes, I do, Cobbs. Why do I like you, do you think, Cobbs?"
    "Don't know, Master Harry, I am sure." "Because Norah likes you,
    Cobbs." "Indeed, sir? That's very gratifying." "Gratifying, Cobbs?
    It's better than millions of the brightest diamonds to be liked by
    Norah." "Certainly, sir." "Would you like another situation, Cobbs?"
    "Well, sir, I shouldn't object if it was a good 'un." "Then, Cobbs,"
    says he, "you shall be our Head Gardener when we are married." And he
    tucks her, in her little sky-blue mantle, under his arm, and walks
    away.

    Boots could assure me that it was better than a picter, and equal to a
    play, to see them babies, with their long, bright, curling hair, their
    sparkling eyes, and their beautiful light tread, a-rambling about the
    garden, deep in love. Boots was of opinion that the birds believed
    they was birds, and kept up with 'em, singing to please 'em. Sometimes
    they would creep under the tulip-tree, and would sit there with their
    arms round one another's necks, and their soft cheeks touching,
    a-reading about the Prince and the Dragon, and the good and bad
    enchanters, and the king's fair daughter. Sometimes he would hear them
    planning about a house in a forest, keeping bees and a cow, and living
    entirely on milk and honey. Once he came upon them by the pond, and
    heard Master Harry say, "Adorable Norah, kiss me, and say you love
    me to distraction, or I'll jump in head foremost." And Boots made no
    question he would have done it if she hadn't complied. On the
    whole, Boots said it had a tendency to make him feel he was in love
    himself--only he didn't exactly know who with.

    "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 great 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 toward 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'." "Oh, 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 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 little
    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 upon 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 humor 'em till I come back. But before I
    take these measures, Cobbs, I should wish you to find from themselves
    whether your opinions 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
    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're 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 honor 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 nature 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 me having the freedom
    to give an opinion, what I should recommend would be this. I am
    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 am 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 this moment 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 two
    babies could make an impossible marriage, and live impossibly
    happy ever afterward. 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
    in.

    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, over-night) 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' 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 they drawed soldiers--at
    least he knows that many such was found in the fireplace, 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 neighborhood?"

    "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," says 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 account 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 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 chap you are, and how it's always either
    Yesterday with you, or 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 do hope you are
    not angry with Master Harry. For Master Harry is a fine boy, sir, and
    will do you credit and honor." 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 honor of that mite, that he looks at Cobbs, to see whether he has
    brought him into trouble.

    "I'm 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 called out, "It's a shame to part 'em!" But
    this chambermaid was always, as Boots informs us, a softhearted 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. Walmers, Junior, that was never to be (she married a Captain long
    afterward, and died in India), went off next day. In conclusion, Boots
    puts 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.
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