Teddy\'s Button - Amy Le Feuvre
TEDDY'S BUTTON
By AMY LE FEUVRE
Author of 'Probable Sons,' 'Eric's Good News,' etc.
1896
CHAPTER I
An Antagonist
He stood in the centre of a little crowd of village boys; his golden head
was bare in the blazing sun, but the crop of curls seemed thick enough to
protect him from its rays, and he was far too engrossed in his occupation
to heed any discomfort from the heat.
A slim delicate little lad, with a finely cut face, and blue eyes that by
turns would sparkle with animation, and then settle into a dreamy
wistfulness, with a deep far-away look in them. They were dancing and
flashing with excitement now, and his whole frame was quivering with
enthusiasm; with head thrown back, and tongue, hand, and foot all in
motion, he seemed to have his audience completely spell-bound, and they
listened with open eyes and mouths to his oration.
With one hand he was fingering a large brass button, which figured
conspicuously in the centre of his small waistcoat, and this button was
the subject of his theme.
'My father he rushed forward--"Come on, men; we'll save the old colours!"
And they shouted "Hurrah!" as they made after him. There were guns going,
and shells flying, and swords flashing and hacking away, and the enemy
poured on with fiery red faces and gnashing teeth! My father drew his
sword--and no one could stand against him, no one! He cut and he slashed,
and heads and arms and legs rolled off as quick as lightning, one after
the other. He got up to the colours, and with a shout he plunged his
sword right through the enemy's body that had stolen them! The enemy fell
stone dead. My father seized the colours and looked round. He was alone!
The other soldiers had been beaten back. But was he in a funk? No; he
gave a loud "Hurrah!" picked up his sword, and fought his way back, the
enemy hard after him. It was a race for life, and he ran backwards the
whole way; he wasn't going to turn his back to the enemy. He pressed on,
shouting "Hurrah!" till he got to his own side again, and then he reached
his colonel.
'"Captain dead, sir I've got the colours!" He saluted as he said it, and
then dropped dead himself at the colonel's feet, the blood gushing out
of his heart, and over his clothes, and over this button!'
The little orator paused as he sank his voice to a tragic whisper,
then raising it again, he added triumphantly, 'And thirty bullets and
six swords had gone through my father's body! That was something like
a soldier!'
'Oh, I say!' murmured a small sceptic from the crowd, 'it was twenty
bullets last time; make it fifty, Teddy!'
'And that's the story of my button,' pursued the boy, ignoring with scorn
this last remark.
'And did your father have only one button to his coat?'
The voice was a strange one, and the boys turned round to meet the
curious gaze of a sturdy little damsel, who had, unnoticed, joined the
group. She was not dressed as an ordinary village child, but in a little
rough serge sailor suit, with a large hat to match, set well back on a
quantity of loose dark hair. A rosy-cheeked square-set little figure she
was, and her brown eyes, fringed with long black lashes, looked straight
at Teddy with something of defiance and scorn in their glance.
Though at first a little taken aback, Teddy rose to the occasion.
'One button!' he said with emphasis; 'the coat was sent to mother with
only one button left on; and if you--' here he turned upon his questioner
with a little fierceness--'if you had been through such a bloody battle,
and killed so many men, you would have burst and lost _all_ your buttons,
and not had one left, like father!'
There was a round of applause at this, but the small maiden remained
undaunted.
'Is that a true story you told?' she demanded, with severity in her tone.
'Of course it's true,' was the indignant shout of all.
'Then I tell you, boy, I don't believe a word of it!' And with set
determined lips she turned on her heel and walked away, having sown seeds
of anger and resentment in more than one boyish breast.
'Who is she?' asked Teddy as, tired and exhausted by his recital, he
threw himself on the grass to rest. One of the bigger boys answered him.
'I seed her come yesterday in a cab from the town to old Sol at the
turnpike--she and her mother, I reckon. They had two carpet bags and a
box and a poll parrot in a cage. I counted them myself, for I was havin'
a ride behind, and the woman she called Sol "Father," so the little 'un
must be his grandarter!'
'P'raps they've come from 'Mericky,' suggested a small urchin,
capering round on his hands and feet. 'Polls allays comes over the
sea, you know.'
[Illustration: TEDDY TELLS THE STORY OF HIS FATHER'S HEROIC DEATH.]
'She didn't believe me,' murmured Teddy, chewing a wisp of grass
meditatively.
'Gals is no good, never! If she'd been a boy you would 'a fought her, but
I shouldn't care for naught like her, Ted.'
Teddy turned his face upwards to the speaker. 'No, I couldn't have fought
her, Sam, if she'd been a boy. I've promised my mother I won't fight
again till she gives me leave. You see, I fought four boys in one week
last time, and she says she won't have it. I don't see if it is right for
soldiers to fight, why it isn't right for boys!'
'I don't think there's any fellers left for you to fight with, so you're
pretty safe. Besides, it was only Tom Larken, who set them on to try and
get your button from you, and he's gone off to another part of the
country now.'
'I think, p'raps,' went on Teddy slowly, as he turned over on his back
and looked up at the clear blue sky above him, 'that I wasn't quite
true about the bullets. I think it was six bullets and three sword
cuts. I forget when I tell it how many it was; but she said she didn't
believe a word!'
Five o'clock struck by the old church clock close by. Teddy was upon
his feet in an instant, and with a wild whoop and shout he was
scudding across the green, his curls flying in the wind, and his
little feet hardly seeming to touch the ground. There was none in
the village so quick-footed as Teddy, and for daring feats and
downright pluck he held the foremost place. Perhaps this accounted for
his popularity, perhaps it was his marvellous aptitude for telling
stories, many of them wild productions from his fertile brain, but
certain it was that he was the pet and the darling of the village, and
none as yet had resisted his sway.
Over the green, up a shady lane, across two fields, and then, breathless
and panting, Teddy paused before an old-fashioned farmhouse. He passed
his hands lightly through his curls, pulled himself up with a jerk, and
then quietly and sedately opened a latched door and entered the long
low-roofed kitchen.
There was something very restful in the scene. A square substantial table
covered with a white cloth, in the centre a large bowl of roses and
honeysuckle: home-made bread and golden butter, a glass dish of honey in
its comb, a plate of fresh watercress, and a currant loaf completed the
simple fare. Presiding at the tea-tray was a stern, forbidding-looking
woman of sixty or more, opposite her was seated her son, the master of
the farm, a heavy-faced, sleepy-looking man; and at his side, facing the
door, sat Teddy's mother. A sweet gentle-faced young woman she was, with
the same deep blue eyes as her little son; she bore no resemblance to
the elder woman, and looked, as she indeed was, superior to her
surroundings. Two years ago she had come with her child to make her home
amongst her husband's people, and though at first her mother-in-law, Mrs.
Platt, was inclined to look upon her contemptuously as a poor, delicate,
useless creature, time proved to her that for steady, quiet work no one
could eclipse her daughter-in-law. Young Mrs. John, as she was called,
was now her right hand, and the dairy work of the farm was made over
entirely to her.
'Late again, you young scamp!' was the stern greeting of his grandmother,
as Teddy appeared on the scene.
The boy looked at her with a twinkle in his eye, put his little hand to
his forehead, and gave her a military salute.
'Sorry,' was all he said as he slipped into the chair that was
waiting for him.
'What have you been doing, sonny?' asked the young mother, whose eyes had
brightened at the sight of him.
'Telling father's story,' replied Teddy with alacrity.
A shadow came over his mother's face, her lips took a distressed curve,
but she said nothing, only occupied herself with attending to the child's
wants. 'Your father was never late for his meals,' the grandmother put
in with asperity.
'Never, granny? Not when he was a boy? I shall be always in time when I'm
a soldier.'
'Better begin now, then; bad habits, like weeds, grow apace!'
Teddy had no answer for this; his mouth was full of bread and butter, and
he did not speak till the meal was over. Then, whilst tea was being taken
away by the women, he turned to his uncle, who, pulling out a pipe from
his pocket, sat down by the open door to smoke.
'Uncle Jake!'
A grunt was the only response; but that was sufficient. The two perfectly
understood each other, and a minute after Teddy was perched on his knee.
'I'm wondering if I can't get an enemy!' the boy proceeded, folding his
small arms and looking up at his uncle steadily; 'all good people had
enemies in the Bible, and I haven't one, I should like to have a good
right down enemy!'
'To fight?' asked his uncle.
'To carry on with, you know; he would lay traps for me, and I would for
him, like David and Saul; we should have a fine time of it. And then
perhaps, if he did something dreadfully wrong, mother would give me leave
to fight him, just once in a way. Don't you think that would be nice?'
'Fightin' ain't the only grand thing in this world; peace is grander,'
was the slow response to this appeal.
'That's what mother says. She made me learn this morning--"Blessed are
the peacemakers!" but you must have an enemy to make peace with, and I
haven't got one.'
There was silence; the uncle puffed away at his pipe; he was a good man,
and had more brains than his appearance warranted, but Teddy's speeches
were often a sore puzzle to him. The boy continued in a slow, thoughtful
tone, 'I saw some one to-day that I feel might be an enemy, but she's a
girl; men don't fight with women.'
'I'd rather tackle a man than a woman any day. They be a powerful enemy
sometimes, lad! And what have this young maid done to you?'
'She said,'--and Teddy's eyes grew bright whilst the blood rushed into
his cheeks--'she said she didn't believe a word of father's story--not a
word of it! And she laughed, and walked away.'
'That was coming it strong; and who is she, to talk so?'
'She's a stranger; Sam said she's come to live with old Sol at the
turnpike.'
'That must be Grace's child,' said old Mrs. Platt, coming up and joining
in the conversation. 'I heard she was coming to stay with her father this
summer, and glad I am of it too--the old man is very lonely. I suppose
her husband is at sea again.'
'What is her husband?' inquired Teddy's mother, as with work in hand she
came out and took a seat in the old-fashioned porch.
'A sailor. Grace was always a roving nature herself. She never would
settle down quiet and take a husband from these parts. She was maid to
our squire's lady then, and went to foreign parts with her; but folks say
she's steadied down now wonderful. They've been living at Portsmouth, she
and her little girl.'
CHAPTER II
'When Greek Meets Greek
Then Comes The Tug
Of War!'
Two little determined figures, with flushed, resolute faces, stood
opposite one another on a narrow footbridge over a running stream.
Neither could pass the other, but neither intended going back, and the
sturdy maiden, in her sailor dress, with her small hands placed on her
hips, appeared quite a match for Teddy, who, with his golden head well
up, looked like a war-horse scenting the battle-field.
It was thus they met again; both employing their Saturday afternoon in
roaming along the edge of a stream, they had suddenly come face to face
with one another.
'You're to let me come over first,' she asserted very emphatically,
'because I'm a girl.'
[Illustration: 'YOU'RE TO LET ME COME OVER FIRST,' SHE ASSERTED.]
'Boys never go back. A soldier's son never! I'm not going to turn my back
before the enemy--I would disgrace my button if I did.'
'That old button!' The tone was that of utmost scorn.
Teddy's cheeks grew rosy red at once, but he said nothing.
'I got to this bridge before you did,' she continued.
'I began to cross it first. And _you_, who are you? No one knows anything
about you. I have been crossing this bridge for _years_.'
'More reason you shouldn't cross it now. My name is Nancy Wright, that's
who I am.'
A princess could not have revealed her name more royally. She added,
after a pause, 'And I mean to come over first, so go back.'
'Never! I never go back!'
'Then I shall push you over in the water.'
'Come on and try, then!'
Then there was silence; both the little people eyed each other defiantly,
yet a little doubtfully, as if measuring one another's strength, and
their faces grew eager at the coming contest.
'Boys always ought to give way to girls, always,' Nancy said, using her
strongest plea; 'you're not a proper boy at all.'
'You're not a proper girl. You're wearing a boy's hat and a boy's
jacket.'
'I'm a sailor's daughter, and everybody can see I am. You say you're a
soldier's son, why don't you dress like one?'
Teddy felt he was getting the worst of it. He fingered his button
proudly.
'I'm wearing something that has been in the thick of a bloody battle;
that's more than you can do. Sailors don't know much of fighting.'
'They know just as much as soldiers, and as to your old button, I b'lieve
you just picked up the old brass thing from the gutter!'
'If you weren't a girl, I'd fight you!' sputtered Teddy now, with
rising wrath.
'Pooh! I expect I could lick you; I don't b'lieve you have half as big a
muscle as I have on my arm.'
'A girl have muscle! It's just a bit of fat!'
The tone of scorn proved too much for Nancy's self-control; with a
passionate exclamation she made a quick rush across the plank, there was
a struggle, and the result was what might have been expected--a great
splash, a scream from Nancy, and both little figures were immersed in the
stream. Happily the water was not very deep, and after a few minutes'
scrambling they were on dry ground, considerably sobered by their
immersion. Teddy began to laugh a little shamefacedly, but Nancy was very
near tears.
'I'll tell my mother you nearly drowned me dead.'
'If you're a sailor's daughter, you oughtn't to be afraid of the water;
sailors and fish are always in the sea.'
'They're never in it; never!'
'Well, they're on it, as close as they can be to it. Why, you're nearly
crying! But you're only a girl, and a sailor's girl can't be very
brave--not like a soldier's girl would be.'
'Sailors are much braver than soldiers,' said Nancy, quickly swallowing
down her tears; 'and when they do fight they're in much more danger than
the soldiers. Father said, how would soldiers like the earth to swallow
them up just when they've been fighting hard and got the victory? That's
what the sea does to the poor sailors. Their ship begins to sink, and
they send up three cheers for queen and country, and then stand on deck
with folded arms, and go down, down, down to the bottom of the sea, and
never make a cry!'
Nancy forgot her wet clothes in her eloquence, and Teddy stared
wonderingly at her.
'Well,' he said, as if considering the matter, 'they may be sometimes
brave, but they don't fight like the soldiers, and they have no banners,
and red coats, and band; and they don't know how to march. A sailor walks
anyhow. I saw one once, and I thought he was tipsy, but he wasn't. A
sailor walks like a goose--he waddles!'
'You're the horridest, rudest boy I've ever seen!'
And with the utmost dignity Nancy walked away, Teddy calling after her,
'You made a pretty good charge for a girl, but you couldn't get past
me!' And then with one of his loud whoops he raced home, and hardly drew
a breath till he reached the farmhouse door. His grandmother confronted
him at once.
'You young rascal, what have you been doing? You're never a day out of
mischief. If I was your mother I'd give you a good whipping; but she
spoils you.'
'And you do, too, granny!'
Teddy's laughing blue eyes, as he raised them to the grim face before
him, conquered, as they generally did.
'There, go to your mother, she's in the dairy; I wash my hands of you.'
But Teddy crept up to his little room to change his wet clothes before he
met his mother, and then was very silent about his adventure, merely
saying, by way of explanation, that he had fallen into the brook; but at
tea, a short time after, he suddenly said,--
'If you put a sailor and a soldier together, which would you choose,
Uncle Jake?'
'Eh, my laddie? Well, they're both good in their way. I couldn't say,
I'm sure.'
'Mother, wouldn't you say the soldier was the bravest?'
'Perhaps I might, sonny; but a sailor can be quite as brave.'
Teddy's face fell. 'I never thought a sailor could fight at all,' he
said, in a disappointed tone; 'I thought they just took care of our
ships, and now and then fired a big gun off.'
'Who's been bringing up the sailors to you?' asked his grandmother.
'That little girl I told you of--Nancy her name is.'
'Where have you seen her?'
'Down by the brook; we fell into the water together, because we both
wanted to cross at once.'
'But, my boy, that was naughty for you not to give place to her,' and
Mrs. John spoke reprovingly.
'I know it was, mother, but I wasn't going to turn back. That would be
running away from the enemy. You see, we met in the middle, and she's not
at all a nice girl, and she's so proud and stuck up about the sailors!'
'As proud as you are of the redcoats, I guess!' old Mrs. Platt said.
'Do sailors and soldiers like each other?' questioned Teddy, ignoring
the thrust.
'I am sure I don't know,' his mother answered, smiling. 'I have never
seen them together that I remember, but I should think they did. They
both fight for their queen and country.'
'Well, I'm a soldier's son, and I don't like a sailor's daughter, I know
that! I think she is a kind of enemy.'
'Oh, hush! sonny. You must have no enemies. It is wrong to talk so.'
'That's what he was a-sayin' to me t'other day,' put in his uncle slowly;
'he says he wants one.'
'Yes, I do,' and Teddy gave a fervent nod as he spoke; 'and, mother, I
believe most good people have enemies, so it must be right to have one.'
'They never make one, as you're trying to do.'
Teddy looked puzzled.
'Well,' he said presently, 'I expect it's because she's a stranger. She
doesn't belong to our village. I don't like strangers.'
'She's no more a stranger than you were when you first came here,' his
mother said; 'and the fact of her being a stranger ought to make you
kind to her.'
'I'm thinking of calling on her mother,' old Mrs. Platt said, looking at
her little grandson with her keen grey eyes; 'shall I take you with me to
see the little girl?'
'I've seen her enough, granny. Please, I think I'd rather not.'
The subject was dropped, but Teddy's thoughts were busy. He ran down to
the village green after tea, and there met one or two of his special
chums, to whom he confided the events of the afternoon. They highly
applauded the scene at the bridge, but Teddy shook his curly head a
little doubtfully.
'Men ought always to give way to women, I've heard mother say; but I
couldn't turn back, you see--it would have disgraced my button.'
'Tell you what,' cried Harry Brown, commonly known as 'Carrots' from his
fiery hair, 'you could 'a done what the goats did in the primer at
school--you ought ter have laid flat down and let her walk across you.'
'She would have hurt dreadful,' Teddy observed thoughtfully. 'Besides,
she's so proud, I don't think I would have liked to do that.'
'No,' put in Sam Waters; 'you did fine. I say, let's come up to the
turnpike and see if she's about there. I'll give her a word, if she
begins to sauce me.'
Teddy agreed to this, and the trio trotted off along a flat, dusty road,
Teddy beguiling the way by some of his wonderful stories till they came
in sight of the low thatched cottage, covered with roses, that guarded
the turnpike.
They soon saw the young damsel, for she was swinging on the gate, her
dark hair flying in the wind, and her eyes and cheeks bright with the
exercise. She looked at the boys, then laughed.
'Poor little button-boy!' she said; 'you have to be taken care of by two
bigger ones.'
'We've come to see you,' said Sam valiantly, 'because we ain't going to
stand any cheek from you; so you had better look out.'
Nancy stopped swinging, and resting her fat little elbows on the topmost
bar, asked saucily, 'Did the button-boy tell you to come and help him
fight me? Are you all three going to try?'
'We don't fight girls,' said Teddy.
'You push them into the water.'
'I didn't.'
'I told mother about it. She thought you was a very rude boy not to wait
till I crossed over.'
There was silence, then Carrots started forward.
'Look here, you'll have to learn your manners, and we won't have a
strange girl like you stick yourself up so. We've come to tell you to
look out for yourself if you don't stop it.'
Nancy laughed again, and swung herself violently backwards and forwards.
'Yo ho! my lads, yo ho!' she sang. 'I'm on my ship, and I don't care for
boys a bit; they're all as stupid as they can be. Yo ho! We go! Yo ho,
lads, heave ho!'
Her elevated position certainly seemed to give her an advantage.
'We'll soon shake you off there!' shouted Sam, his wrath rising at her
calm indifference to the lords of creation.
'Come on, and try. I'm up the rigging, and a storm is beginning.
Hurray--come on!'
Sam and Carrots made a furious onslaught, and the gate was roughly
handled, but the more it shook and swung, the more derisive was Nancy's
laughter, as she clutched a firm hold with her small hands, and swayed to
and fro, calling out excitedly, 'Furl the main-sail! Stand by,
lads--steady--starboard hard! Port your helm! Rocks to leeward! Reef the
top-sail! Breakers ahead! Yo ho!'
Teddy looked on, awed by these nautical terms, which seemed to slip so
easily from her lips. To him they seemed wonderfully clever, but he was
not one to stand aside long in a scene of excitement, and with one of his
wild war whoops he rushed forward.
'On, boys! Charge! Hurrah!'
The gate rocked violently, and Nancy began to feel her position was a
perilous one. All the little people were screaming at the top of their
voices, when suddenly, in the midst of the din, appeared old Sol.
'What now! Who are these trying to break one of Her Majesty's gates down?
Be off, you young ruffians! Teddy Platt, you're at the bottom of all the
mischief brewing in the parish. I'll get my big stick out and give you a
thrashing before I've done with you.'
Old Sol's words were fierce, but the boys knew he had the softest heart
in the village, and they stood their ground. 'It's all the button-boy,'
said Nancy eagerly, as she descended from her perch, and laid her little
hand confidingly on the old man's arm. 'He brought these boys up to fight
me, but I was up the mast, and they couldn't shake me off!'
'We told you we wouldn't fight a girl,' protested Teddy indignantly; 'you
don't speak the truth.'
'Well, what did you bring the boys for?' demanded the small maiden
severely.
'We came,' put in Sam boldly, 'to tell you that if you were so cheeky you
would soon get into trouble. We ain't going to stand sauce from you.'
'What has the little lass been doing, you young scoundrels?'
'They're only boys, grandfather; let us come in to mother, and leave
them. They're the rudest boys I've ever seen, and the button-boy is the
worst, and his button isn't worth a farthing!'
There was a yell from all three boys at this.
'That's it!' cried Carrots excitedly. 'It's the button she's so cheeky
about. We ain't going to have Teddy's button laughed at. We won't stand
it, Sol--we won't!'
'It shows she don't know nothing, or she wouldn't talk so. She's just a
baby, that's what she is.'
'Why, she doesn't believe father's story is true, Sol! You know it is,
don't you?'
'She isn't as old as the button itself.'
'Ha! ha! she wasn't born when it was in battle. Much she knows about it!'
Sol had difficulty in quieting the indignant voices.
'Lookee here, you boys, go home and leave my little lass to me; she knows
nothing about the button. I'll tell her the story, and then she won't
laugh at it any more. Ay, I remember seeing your father, youngster. He
was a brave man, he was, but he would never have made war against little
maids like this. Shame on you; get you home! Get you gone, I say, or I'll
bring my stick out.'