"You allow Jeremy,all by himself,into the street at night,and he's only eight.Really,you're too strange!""Well,in the first place,"said Mrs.Cole,mildly,"it isn't night--it's afternoon;in the second place,it is only just down the street,and Jeremy's most obedient always,as you know,Amy.""I'm sure that Mr.Somerset is wild,"said Aunt Amy.
"My dear Amy,why'?"
"You've only got to look at his face.It's 'flashy.'That's what Icall it."
"Oh,that isn't the sort of man who'll do Jeremy harm,"said Mrs.
Cole,with a mother's wisdom.
Certainly,he did Jeremy no harm at all;he taught him nothing,not even "mensa,"and how to spell "receive"and "apple."The only thing he did was to encourage Jeremy's independence,and this was done,in the first place,by the walks to and fro.
He had only been going to Mr.Somerset's a day or two when the announcements of the Fair appeared on the walls of the town.He could not help but see them;there was a large cue on the boarding half-way down Orange Street,just opposite the Doctor's;a poster with a coloured picture of "Wombwell's Circus,"a fine affair,with spangled ladies jumping through hoops,elephants sitting on stools,tigers prowling,a clown cracking a whip,and,best of all,a gentleman,with an anxious face and a scanty but elegant costume,balanced above a gazing multitude on a tight-rope.There was also a bill of the Fair setting forth that there would be a "Cattle Market,Races,Roundabout,Swings,Wrestling,Boxing,Fat Women,Dwarfs,and the Two-Headed Giant from the Caucasus."During a whole week,once a day,Jeremy read this bill from the top to the bottom;at the end of the week he could repeat it all by heart.
He asked Mr.Somerset whether he was going.
"Oh,I shall slip along one evening,I've no doubt,"replied that gentleman."But it's a bore--a whole week of it--upsets one's work.""It needn't,"said Jeremy,"if you stay indoors."This amused Mr.Somerset immensely.He laughed a great deal.
"We always have to,"said Jeremy,rather hurt."We're not allowed farther than the garden.""Ah,but I'm older than you are,"said Mr.Somerset."It was the same with me once.""And what did you do?Did you go all the same?""You bet,I did,"said the red-faced hero,more intent on his reminiscences than on the effect that this might have on the morals of his pupil.
Jeremy waited then for the parental command that was always issued.
It was:"Now,children,you must promise me never to go outside the house this week unless you have asked permission first."And then:
"And on no account to speak to any stranger about anything whatever."And then:"Don't look out of the back windows,mind."(From the extreme corners of the bedroom windows you could see a patch of the meadow whereon the gipsy-vans settled.)These commands had been as regular as the Fair,and always,of course,the children had promised obedience.Jeremy told his conscience that if,this year,he gave his promise,he would certainly keep it.He wondered,at the same time,whether he might not possibly manage to be out of the house when the commands were issued.He formed a habit of suddenly slipping out of the room when he saw his father's mouth assuming the shape of a "command."He took the utmost care not to be alone with his father.
But he need not have been alarmed.This year no command appeared.
Perhaps Mr.Cole thought that it was no longer necessary;it was obvious that the children were not to go,and they were,after all,old enough now to think for themselves.Or,perhaps,it was that Mr.
Cole had other things on his mind;he was changing curates just then,and a succession of white-faced,soft-voiced,and loud-booted young men were appearing at the Coles'hospitable table.
"Here's this tiresome Fair come round again,"said Mrs.Cole.
"Wicked!"said Aunt Amy,with an envious shudder."Satan finds work,indeed,in this town.""I don't suppose it's worse than anywhere else,"said Mrs.Cole.
On the late afternoon of the day before the opening,Jeremy,on his way to Mr.Somerset's,caught the tailend of Wombwell's Circus Procession moving,in misty splendour,across the market.
He could see but little,although he stood on the pedestal of a lamp-post;but Britannia,rocking high in the air,flashing her silver sceptre in the evening air,and followed by two enormous and melancholy elephants,caught his gaze.Strains of a band lingered about him.He entered Mr.Somerset's in a frenzy of excitement,but he said nothing.He felt that Mr.Somerset would laugh at him.
He returned to his home that night haunted by Britannia.He ate Britannia for his supper;he had Britannia for his dreams;and he greeted Rose as Britannia the next morning when she called him.
Early upon that day there were borne into the heart of the house strains of the Fair.It was no use whatever to close the windows,lock the doors,and read Divinity.The strains persisted,a heavenly murmur,rising at moments into a muffled shriek or a jumbling shout,hanging about the walls as a romantic echo,dying upon the air a chastened wail."No use for Mr.Cole to say:
"We must behave as though the Fair was not."
For a whole week it would be there,and everyone knew it.
Jeremy did not mean to be disobedient,but after that glimpse of Britannia he knew that he would go.
III
It had,at first,been thought advisable that Jeremy should not go to Mr.Somerset's during Fair Week.Perhaps Mr.Somerset could come to the Coles'.No,he was very sorry.He must be in his rooms at that particular hour in case parishioners should need his advice or assistance.
"Pity for him to miss all this week,especially as there will be only four days left after that.I am really anxious for him to have a little grounding in Latin."Mrs.Cole smiled confidently."I think Jeremy is to be trusted.He would never do anything that you wouldn't like."Mr.Cole was not so sure."He's not quite so obedient as I should wish.He shows an independence--"However,after some hesitation it was decided that Jeremy might be trusted.
