Ralph Clavering: or, We Must Try Before We Can Do

“It is a pleasure to help those poor people,” observed Ralph to his cousin, as they returned homeward. “I did not suppose so much wretchedness existed in England.”

“There is far more than we have seen to-day,” said Lilly. “When hard times come, there are thousands and thousands thrown out of work, who then from one day to another do not know how they are to find food to put into their mouths on the next.”

“I should think that they might lay by when they are getting full wages,” remarked Ralph.

A carriage passing prevented Lilly from hearing the remark. The groom, who was driving, replied to it. “A hard job, Mr Ralph, for a poor man with a large family of hungry boys and girls able to eat, but to earn nothing, to lay by out of eight or nine shillings a week. Many a hard-working, strong man, gets no more. Why, Mr Ralph, you spend more on your clothes, gloves, and washing, and such like things.”

“Yes; but I am different, Thomas, you know. I couldn’t do without good clothes and other things,” answered Ralph.

Thomas, fancying that he would be supported by Miss Lilly, ventured to say more than he would otherwise have done, and so he replied, “Don’t see the difference, Mr Ralph. A rich man can’t wear many more clothes at a time, or eat much more, than a poor one; and a poor one wants food and clothing as much as his betters. If he can’t get them by honest means he sickens and dies, or takes to stealing. I don’t know how the rich would act if they were to have the temptations the poor are exposed to!”

Ralph was not inclined to say anything more on the subject to Thomas; he felt angry at his speaking so plainly. Thomas had never before done so, undoubtedly because he was sensible how useless it would have been.

Not long after this they reached Dr Morison’s house. Lilly told her tale, and the doctor promised to set off immediately to the gipsy encampment.

Never had Ralph appeared to greater advantage than he did on that day at dinner. He laughed and talked, and made himself generally agreeable. His father and mother were surprised, and hailed the change as a sign of returning health. The doctor called in the evening. He had visited the gipsy encampment, and stated his belief, that if aid had not been sent to them, two or more of their number would have died before many days were over. “They owe their lives under Providence to you, Miss Vernon, I assure you,” said the doctor.

“Not more to me than to my cousin,” answered Lilly, promptly. “He got the eatables from Mrs Gammage, and carried them to the encampment. I should have been afraid of going alone.”

The doctor did not repeat a version of the story which he had heard from Arnold, but he replied, “I am truly glad to hear that Mr Ralph busies himself about the welfare of his fellow-creatures.”

Mr and Mrs Clavering looked surprised; the words struck strangely on their ears. They were so different to what they were accustomed to hear. Mrs Clavering had been inclined to complain of her son and niece having visited the gipsies for fear they might catch a fever from them or get robbed, and now she heard them praised by Dr Morison, for whose opinion she had great respect; so she said nothing. Every day after this Lilly and Ralph paid a visit to the encampment, taking not only food but some blankets, with some of which Mrs Gammage had supplied them. Others had actually been bought by Ralph, at his cousin’s instigation, with his own money. There could be no doubt from the way they expressed themselves, that the gipsies really were grateful for the kindness shown them, so different from the treatment they had been accustomed to receive from the world. Their hand was supposed to be against every man, and every man’s hand was undoubtedly against them.

At length the whole family had so completely recovered, that Arnold told them that he should leave the neighbourhood. “The gentlefolks don’t like our ways, and we should be sorry, after what you have done for us, if we came foul of any of your people,” said the gipsy.

“So should we, indeed,” answered Lilly. “And I hope you will not do anything elsewhere to get yourselves into trouble.”

“No fear, sweet lady,” said Arnold, with the courtesy so often found among his people. “The thought that you would be offended would prevent us.”

Chapter Five

The days flew by; the spring returned; Ralph completely recovered his strength, and renewed his daily visits to his tutor; while Lilly, unaided, pursued her own studies with unwavering steadiness, and employed herself in calling, with her aunt, on some of the surrounding families of their own rank, in riding, sketching, in visiting the poor in the neighbourhood, and in doing good to all around as far as she had the power. Doctor Morison called her his bright intelligence, and said that he considered her a ministering angel, sent into their district to awaken these people from the Boetian lethargy into which they had sunk. Lilly, however, did not hear these compliments. Had she, her reply would have been that she was only doing what she knew to be right.

Ralph occasionally joined his cousin in her occupations. Sometimes he rode with her, and sat by her side while she sketched; and he even condescended to carry her basket when she visited the cottages of their poor neighbours. He was rising, though he was not aware of it, in their estimation, and many expressed a belief that he would turn out well after all. To be sure, he would occasionally cast that hope to the ground by some outbreak of temper and violence of language. Lilly was often almost in despair, but she remembered her motto, “We must try before we can do,” and so she determined to try on.

It must not be supposed that she had distinctly said to herself, “I will set to work to give my cousin good principles, or to reform my cousin.” The nearest approach was to think, “I wish that anything I could say or do would make Ralph give up some of his bad habits, and to act as I am sure he ought.”

Still, had she clearly seen all the difficulties of the task which she had in reality, although unknowingly, undertaken, she would not have shrunk from it. “It would be so delightful to have Cousin Ralph what he ought to be,” she said, over and over again, to herself.

She undoubtedly was setting properly about the work by gently leading him into the right way. He had too undisciplined a mind to be reasoned with, and had been too much indulged to be driven.

Ralph had since his recovery taken a great fancy for rowing. A broad stream passed at no great distance from the Hall, which ultimately fell into a rapid river. Ralph had persuaded his father to have a small boat built for him, which he could manage by himself. He had hitherto had but little practice; he had, however, learned to pull sufficiently well to send on the boat ahead a short distance without catching a crab, and this made him fancy himself already a proficient.

Lilly very naturally believed his assertions that he could row perfectly well; and the boat having been repainted and put in order, she gladly accompanied him on one of the first warm days in spring down to the stream. John Hobby, a cottager near, had charge of the boat and kept the oars. He was out when Ralph called for them, and so his wife told their son to take them down to the boat.

“But you surely are not going alone, Mr Ralph, without my good man or our lad?” said the dame. “It’s a main dangerous stream, and needs a strong arm and a practised hand to guide a boat along it.”

“That’s all you know about it, mistress!” answered Ralph, in his usual self-satisfied, contemptuous tone. “I’ve rowed often enough on the stream to know that I’ve no reason to be afraid.”

“Well, maybe, Mr Ralph; but you won’t go far, I do hope,” persisted the dame.

“Just as far as I please; and I’ll thank you not to interfere with your advice, mistress,” answered Ralph, walking off to follow Lilly, who had unfortunately not heard the warning voice.

Lilly had got to some distance before Dame Hobby saw her, or she would undoubtedly have entreated her not to venture on the water. Ralph, with unusual politeness, handed his cousin into the boat.

“John, John!” cried the dame, “here lad, take the oars down to the boat for Master Ralph Clavering, and just give him a hint, that if he goes without you, he may chance to drown himself and the pretty young lady with him.” Then she added, in a lower tone, to herself, “A nice young gentleman to order people about as he does. He’ll learn some day who’s who.”

A fine handsome young lad, who had been working in the garden at the back of the house, appeared at her call. He appeared to be about the same age as Ralph Clavering, but was taller and stouter. There was a look, too, of health and conscious strength about him, and withal, a pleasant, good-natured smile on his well-formed countenance, which showed that he was on good terms with himself and the world in general. He took the oars from an outhouse, and followed Ralph and Lilly to the boat.

Young John Hobby was about to follow, when Ralph told him to keep back, and seizing the oars, exclaimed, “Now, Lilly, I will show you what I can do; and we’ll make a voyage unsurpassed since the days of Columbus!”

Lilly was but little accustomed to boating, and believing that her cousin’s experience was equal to what he asserted it to be, she entrusted herself to him without hesitation. John Hobby stood watching their proceedings, and scratching his head, evidently wishing to say something. “You’d better go up stream, Master Clavering,” he cried out at length, as Ralph shoved off from the bank. “The current runs very strong, and it’s easier to go with, than against it.”

“Hold your tongue, you lout,” answered Ralph, angrily. “I know how to row, and don’t want to be dictated to.”

“Beg pardon, Master Clavering: I only said what I knew would be best,” answered John Hobby, sturdily.

Though a tenant of Mr Clavering’s, John Hobby, the elder, paid his rent, improved his land, and feared neither him nor anyone else. Of young John, more will be said hereafter. Ralph had been undecided which way to go. To show his independence, he immediately turned the boat’s head down the stream. He had skill enough to keep her in the centre of the river, and down she floated smoothly and easily. He was delighted with his own performance.

“Hurrah!” he shouted. “Away we go, right merrily. That lout wanted to frighten you. I told you, Cousin Lilly, how pleasant it would be.”

Lilly found it extremely pleasant. The sun shone brightly and sparkled on the surface of the stream; and so clear was the water, that the fish could be seen swimming about on each side of the boat. The water-fowl skimmed lightly over it, or flew from bank to bank, every now and then giving forth strange cries, which made Lilly declare that the river must be infested by water kelpies, who were attempting to lure them to destruction.

On the little boat glided. It did not seem to occur to Ralph that the current, rather than his exertions, was carrying them on.

“This is what I like. Isn’t it pleasant?” he exclaimed, again and again. Lilly was inclined to enjoy it, although, perhaps, a suspicion might have arisen that it would have been wiser to have followed John Hobby’s advice, and to have gone up the stream first, so as to have returned with the current in their favour. They did not go very fast, but had ample time to admire the scenery. Sometimes the stream expanded in width, the banks were low, and little else than beds of rushes and willows, green meadows with cows feeding, were to be seen, with, perhaps, far off, a row of trees, a few Lombardy poplars, and the spire of a church peeping above them. In other places there were steep slopes, and rocks and cliffs, crowned with birch and alder, and even oak, and a variety of other trees. There were bends or angles in the course of the stream, which afforded a variety of pretty views, with here and there a cottage, or some fine old tree, whose branches extended over the water, forming a prominent feature.

“Oh! how I wish that I had brought my sketch-book,” exclaimed Lilly. “These views are so different to those I have been accustomed to take. We must come again to-morrow, and then you must stop as we go up and down the stream at the points I most admire to-day.” Ralph promised to do as his cousin wished, but it did not occur to him to ascertain how far he could keep the boat in one place. At last, Lilly recollected that she had the back of a letter and a pencil in her bag, and, with a piece of board which was in the boat, she extemporised a drawing block. “Now, Ralph, here is a very pretty spot, turn the boat round a little, and I will quickly sketch it,” she cried out, not doubting that her wishes would be fulfilled. Ralph got the boat round, as he was directed, but Lilly soon found herself receding so rapidly from her subject, that it was impossible to take a correct sketch. Again and again she called to him to keep the boat in one place. Ralph persisted that he was doing his best.

“Why, Ralph, I thought that you were so expert an oarsman, that you could make your boat go anywhere, or do anything?” said Lilly.

Ralph could not stand being jeered, even by his cousin. He quickly lost his temper, and at the same time while increasing his exertions, he lost his oar. Away it went out of his grasp, and floated down the stream. “There, you made me do that, you silly girl!” he exclaimed, angrily. “What is to be done now?”

“Try and pick it up, to be sure,” answered Lilly. “Paddle after it with the other oar.”

Ralph stood up to use the other oar as a paddle, and very nearly tumbled over in making the attempt. Lilly now became somewhat alarmed. She knew, however, that the wisest thing to do was to sit still, especially as Ralph began jumping about, and beating the water without any definite object. The boat continued to float down, following the oar, which gained but very little on her. Lilly again urged her cousin to try and recover it. His next attempt was as unsuccessful as the first, and the other oar nearly slipped from his hands. At last he sat down, almost crying, and looking exceedingly foolish. “The boat may go where it chooses,” he exclaimed, pettishly. “How am I to row with only one oar?”

In spite of her fears, Lilly almost burst into a fit of laughter.

“Try again, cousin Ralph; you can do nothing unless you try,” she answered. “If you will not try to row, I must put you to shame by making the attempt myself.”

Thus put on his mettle, Ralph again roused himself, but it was to little purpose; and he and Lilly now found that they had reached the mouth of the stream, and were entering the main river, which was far broader and more rapid. In vain he now tried to gain the bank, the rapid current bore the boat on into the very middle of the river. They both had ridden along the bank, and they remembered that some way down the water rushed over a ledge of rocks, with a fall of several feet.

“Never mind,” said Ralph; “there is a ford there, and I can but jump out and drag the boat to land.”

“Ah, but that was in the summer,” answered Lilly. “I remember a man telling us that in the spring a great body of water falls over the ledge; and that when we passed, with the water scarcely up to our horse’s knees, there is a regular cataract, and that once some people who were attempting to cross in a boat, got drifted near it, and were carried down and all drowned.”

“Oh, how dreadful!” exclaimed Ralph, now fairly wringing his hands. “Why did we come? How foolish we were. I wish that we had followed that lout Hobby’s advice. He, of course, knows more about the river than we do.”