English Listening Practice 73 – Listen to The Boots at the Holly Tree Short Story in English
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Boots at the Holly-Tree Inn
by Charles Dickens
Charles Dickens, “Boots at the Holly-Tree Inn”
Before the days of railways, and in the time of the old Great North Road, I was once snowed up at the Holly-Tree Inn. Beguiling the days of my imprisonment there by talking at one time or other with the whole establishment, I one day talked with the Boots, when he lingered in my room.
Where had he been in his time? Boots repeated, when I asked him the question. Lord, he had been everywhere! And what had he been? Bless you, everything you could mention almost.
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 that he couldn’t get his hand into ’em.
Master Harry Walmers’s 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 yon may 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 Nerval, 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 wery much to be wished more of ’em was!
How did Boots happen to know all this? Why, sir, through being under-gardener. Of course I couldn’t be under-gardener, and be 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 me one morning early, and said, “Cobbs, how should you spell Norah, if you were asked?” and when I give him my views, sir, respectin’ the spelling o’ that name, he took out his little knife, and he begun a cutting it in print, all over the fence.
And the courage of the boy I 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. One day he stops, along with her (where I was hoeing weeds in the gravel), and says, speaking up, “Cobbs,” he says, “I like yow.” “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.” “You’re going away, ain’t you Cobbs?” “Yes, sir.” “Would you like another situation. Cobbs?” “Well, sir, I shouldn’t object, if it was a good ’un.” “Then, Cobbs,” says that mite, “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, 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 I would hear them planning about having a house in a forest, keeping bees and a cow, and living entirely on milk and honey. Once I came upon them by the pond, and heard Master Harry say, “Adorable Norah, Mss me, and say you love me to distraction, or I’ll jump in head foremost.” On the whole, sir, the contemplation o’ them two babbies had a tendency to make me feel as if I was in love myself, — only I didn’t exactly know who with.
“Cobbs,” says Master Harry, one evening, when I 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 looks on at the watering of the flowers for a little while, and then he says, “I shall be very glad indeed to go, Cobbs, — Norah’s going.”
“You’ll be all right then, sir, with your beautiful sweetheart by your side.”
“Cobbs,” returns the boy, a flushing, “I never let anybody joke about that when I can prevent them.”
“It wasn’t a joke, sir, — 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! 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,” says that 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, is the depravity of human natur.”
The boy, looking exactly like his father, stood for a few minutes, and then departed with, “Good night, Cobbs. I’m going in.”
If I was to ask Boots how it happened that I was a going to leave that place just at that present time, well, I couldn’t rightly answer you, sir. I do suppose I might have stayed there till now, if I had been anyways inclined. But, you see, he was younger then, and he wanted change. That’s what I wanted, — change. Mr. Walmers, he says to me, when I give him notice of my intentions to leave, “Cobbs,” he says, “have you anything 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; 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 — that he hadn’t found it yet.
Well, sir! I left the Elmses when my time was up, and Master Harry, he went down to the old lady’s at York, which old lady were so wrapt up in that child as she would have give that child the teeth out of her head (if she had had any). 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, I was at this identical Holly-Tree Inn (having left it several times since to better myself, 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. Mutton 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.
Sir, I leave you to judge what the amazement of that establishment was, when those two tiny creatures all alone by themselves was marched into the Angel; much more so when I, who had seen them without their seeing me, give the Governor my 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 opinions is correct.” “Sir, to you,” says I, “that shall be done directly.”
So Boots goes upstairs to the Angel, and there he finds Master Harry on a enormous 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-handkecher. Their little legs was entirely off the ground, of course; and it really is not possible to express how small them children looked.
“It’s Cobbs! It’s Cobbs!” cries Master Harry, and he comes running to me and catching hold of my hand. Miss Norahy she comes runing to me on t’other side and catching hold of my t’other hand, and they both jump for joy.
“I see you a getting out, sir,” says I. “I thought it was you. I thought I couldn’t be mistaken in your heighth and figure. What’s the object of your journey, sir? — Matrimonial?”
“We are going to be married, Cobbs, at Gretna Green,” returns 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, 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 doll’s hairbrush. The gentleman had got about a dozen yards of string, a knife, three or four sheets of writing-paper folded up surprisingly small, a orange, and a Chaney mug with his name on it.
“What may be the exact natur of your plans, sir?” says I.
“To go on,” replies the boy — which the courage of that boy was something wonderful! — “in the morning, and be married to-morrow.”
“Just so, sir. Would it meet your views, sir, if I was to accompany you?”
They both jumped for joy again, and cried out, “O yes, yes, Cobbs! Yes!”
“Well, sir, 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 tk pheayton that I could borrow, would take you and Mrs. Harry Wahners, Junior (driving myself 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 till 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?” I says, mortally ashamed of myself.
“We should like some cakes after dinner,” answers Master Harry, “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,” I says.
Sir, I has the feeling as fresh upon me at this minute of speaking as I had then, that I would far rather have had it out in half a dozen rounds with the Governor, than have combined with him; and that I wished with all my 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, I 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, is surprising. It was as much as could be done 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. And they was seven deep at the keyhole.
In the evening, I 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?”
“Yes, she is tired, Cobbs; but she is not used to be away from home, and she has been in low spirits again. Gobbs, do you think you could bring a biffin, please?”
“I ask your pardon, sir. What was it you —”
“I think a Norfolk biffin would rouse her, Cobbs. She is very fond of them.”
Well, sir, I withdrew in search of the required restorative, and 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,” I says, “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 the door, and retired to his own apartment, where I 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 confessmg 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, sir, I went on a lying like a Trojan about the pony. I told ’em that it did so unfort’nately happen that the pony was half clipped, you see, and that he couldn’t be took 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 upon 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.
In the course of the morning, Master Harry rung 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. There’s Love Lane.”
“Get out with you, Cobbs!” — that was that there boy’s expression, — “you’re joking.”
“Begging your pardon, sir, there really is Love Lane; and a pleasant walk it is, and proud shall I be to show it to yourself and Mrs. Harry Wahners, 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. Well, sir, I turned the conversation as well as I could, and I took ’em down Love Lane to the water-meadows, and there Master Harry would have drowned himself in a 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.
I don’t know, sir, — perhaps you do, — 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 I 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, arter all, that’s where it is! Don’t you see, sir?
Welly sir, they woke up at last, and then one thing was getting pretty clear to me, namely, that Mrs. Harry Walmerses, Jnnior’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 yon?” she tells him, “Yes; and I want to go home!”
A biled fowl and baked bread-and-butter pudding brought Mrs. Wahners up a little; but I could have wished, I must privately own to you, sir, to have seen her more sensible of the woice of love, and less abandoning of herself to the currants in the pudding. However, Master Harry, he kep’ up, and his noble heart was as fond as ever. Mrs. Walmers turned very sleepy about dusk, and begun 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 of Mr. Wabners and a elderly lady. Mr. Walmers 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 Mr. Walmers, he says: “Ah, Cobbs! I am glad to see you. I understood you was here!” And I says: “Yes, sir. Tour most obedient, sir.”
“I beg your pardon, sir,” I adds, 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 state of mind in which he then was, he thinks he should have “fetched him a crack,” and took the consequences.
But Mr. Walmers only says, “No, Cobbs. No, my good fellow. Thank you!” and, the door being opened, goes in, goes up to the bedside, bends gently down, and kisses 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 his pa. Looks at me too. Such is the honour of that mite, that he looks at me, to see whether he has brought me into trouble.
“I am not angry, my child. I only want you to dress yourself and come home.”
“Yes, pa.”
Master Harry dresses himself quick.
“Please may I” — the spirit of that little creatur — “please, dear pa, — may I — kiss Norah, before I go?”
“You may, my child.”
So he takes Master Harry in his hand, and I leads the way with the candle 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 boy up to the pillow, and he lays his little face down for an instant by the little warm face of poor little Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior, and gently draws it to him, — a sight so touching to the chambermaids who are a peeping through the door, that one of them calls out, “It’s a shame to part ’em!”
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 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 as them 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 separate.
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