Chapter 71378125

See chapter in newspaper

Chapter NumberI
Chapter Title
Chapter Urlhttp://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article71378125
Full Date1900-03-24
Page Number40
Corrections0
Word Count1136
IllustratedY
Last Corrected0000-00-00
Newspaper TitleAustralian Town and Country Journal (Sydney, NSW : 1870 - 1907)
Trove TitleThe Story of a Boy
article text

Princess Spinaway's Department.

"THE STORY OP A BOY."

; (By Gipsy Low.)

(Dedicated to "Charon.")

CHAPTER I.

? » . _ .1* +-~wj\ Y\r\tra oil

"Wanted, a governess, to teach two noys, , au Eng. sub., Lat., Fr.; sal.. £40 per annum. Applj

E. W., Post Office."

"The very thing!" I exclaimed, when, scanning the columns of "Wanteds," as I had done even morning for the last fortnight, the above caught

my eye.

A quarter of an hour later. I : had' written and posted an application, then waited eagerly to se«

if I would get an answer. «

Three days later, when I had almost given ui hope of getting one, it came, telling me' tb call at No. 9 Richmond Terrace, that same afternoon. The note was signed "E. Wainwright," and áa I looked at the thick writing I wondered what my stepmother would say when I showed it to

her.- " .

Only a fortnight ago she had told me that it was quite time. I was earning my own living in stead of being a ,burden to others.

Before that I had never even thought of doing

so. '

Although my stepmother and I did did .not agree very well, I was quite content teaching my two stepsisters and one of my brothers, the eldest of whom was eleven, and writing out my. father's

sermons for him.

I do not think she really meant what she said, for she was in a temper; but my pride was hurt, so I took her at her word, and looked in the papers every day to see who wanted a governess.

I was very fond of my father, who was an easy going minister, agreeing with everything his wife said, and working very hard in his parish.

I was only eighteen. My mother died when I waB two years old. Three years after father married again. Until a year ago I had lived with my aunt. Then she died, and I came to find a place in my proper home.

I started In plenty of time to keep my appoint ment that afternoon, merely telling Mrs. Sabine I never called her mother-that I was going out.

When I arrived at No. 9 I was ushered Into the drawing-room by a smart-looking maid-a great contrast to Bridget, our ,maid-of-all-work at eight shillings a week. . She returned prectbutly with a message from Mrs. Wainwright, asking me if I would come to her study.

The room was up a staircase thickly carpeted, and along a wide landing.

Inside a woman rose as I entered, and greeted me coldly. She was tall and handsome, with fair hair, and steely grey eyes which seemed to look right through you. I took a dislike to her at once; she was so hard and cold.

She told me she had heard about me personally -from whom I cannot guess, and curious though I was, I did not like to ask her.

At the end of about an hour's questioning on the part of Mrs. Wainwright I was engaged to teach her son and nephew, and was to enter my new home, which was up the country, in a fort

night's time.

"The White House ls rather a lonely place," she said. "We see very few people-Indeed there are so few to see-most of the Inhabitants of .Lanmore are of the working class; but I daresay

the boys will keep you alive."

As I walked homo I hoDed it would not be dull or lonely-surely not, with two boys In the house. I hated dulness. I was late for tea, and recëlvéu

a. scolding.

"I wish you would try and come to yonr meals at the proper time, Wynne," Mrs. Sabine said crossly, as I took my place at the table. "You are' always late."

"I didn't think it was nearly tea time, so I walked slowly," I replied.

"No, you never do think! It's always the way! Kindly try to think for the future. You're the most aggravating girl I know."

"Tut, tut!" said my father, looking over his spectacles at me. "She's a good enough girl in her own way. Where have you been, Wynne?"

"I'll tell you after tea, father," I said, glancing

at the children.

"Very well. I suppose it is something pri vate. I hope you haven't been doing anything wicked," he said, with a twinkle in his eyes, and I assured him I had not;-then asked, "Where is

Freddy?"

"In bed!" came from Dot and Beryl simul taneously. "He had to go at half-past Ave be cause he lighted' with Tommy O'Brien," continued the former. "You should have seen them, Wynne; they went at it like--"

"Dorothea!" interrupted . her mother severely, "we do not wish to have Fred's fights discussed at the tea table If you please. I have spoken to you twice already; if I speak again you will go to

bed."

Dot was silenced at once by the threat and the meal for a wonder ended quietly.

"After tea when the younger children were in bed, and the elder ones in the schoolroom, I re lated my afternoon's venture.

Mrs. Sabine was cross that I had not consulted her firsthand cross to think that I was going, al though she would not own that.she would miss

me. ? . >

Path er would not hear of it at first, but when I told him that it was all arranged he gave way.

"And pray where is.. this place you think of going to?" Mrs. Sabine asked.

"Un at Lanmore." I replied, "the place Is called

the White Houpe."

"How many children will you' have to teach,

Wynne?" asked my father. .

"Only two boys," I answered. ' **You see, dear, at the beginning of the auarter: you are going to send Dot, Beryl, and .Freddy to school, and I would be of no use and have nothing to do, as nurse will have Babs and Jack, for some time yet, when I can bo earning my own living, and that

will help you a bit."

Not a Scrap Left.

- So it was settled, and on the 28th I was-to leave the heme of which. I had been an inmate for a

year only. -

Loud was the indignation of the children when they heard I was going, for they were very fond of me, especially Babs, who was my favorite. He was a fat dumpling, of six summers, while Jack, the real baby, was four. There was another boy, Roy; he was twelve, and. went to school. He was quiet and thoughtful-quite different to his . younger brother, Freddy, who was the mischiev

ous one of the family. Between these two-the ? good and the bad-came Dot and Baryl.

(To be continued.)