Nobody's Boy (1878)

ANOTHER BOY'S MOTHER

Arthur's mother was English. Her name was Mrs. Milligan. She was a widow, and Arthur was her only son; at least, it was supposed that he was her only son living, for she had lost an elder child under mysterious conditions. When the child was six months old it had been kidnaped, and they had never been able to find any trace of him. It is true that, at the time he was taken, Mrs. Milligan had not been able to make the necessary searches. Her husband was dying, and she herself was dangerously ill and knew nothing of what was going on around her. When she regained consciousness her husband was dead and her baby had disappeared. Her brother-in-law, Mr. James Milligan, had searched everywhere for the child. There being no heir, he expected to inherit his brother's property. Yet, after all, Mr. James Milligan inherited nothing from his brother, for seven months after the death of her husband, Mrs. Milligan's second son, Arthur, was born.

But the doctors said that this frail, delicate child could not live. He might die at any moment. In the event of his death, Mr. James Milligan would succeed to the fortune. He waited and hoped, but the doctors' predictions were not fulfilled. Arthur lived. It was his mother's care that saved him. When he had to be strapped to a board, she could not bear the thought of her son being closed up in a house, so she had a beautiful barge built for him, and was now traveling through France on the various canals.

Naturally, it was not the first day that I learned all this about the English lady and her son. I learned these details little by little, while I was with her.

I was given a tiny cabin on the boat. What a wonderful little room it appeared to me! Everything was spotless. The only article of furniture that the cabin contained was a bureau, but what a bureau: bed, mattress, pillows, and covers combined. And attached to the bed were drawers containing brushes, combs, etc. There was no table or chairs, at least not in their usual shape, but against the wall was a plank, which when pulled down was found to be a little square table and chair. How pleased I was to get into that little bed. It was the first time in my life that I had felt soft sheets against my face. Mother Barberin's were very hard and they used to rub my cheeks, and Vitalis and I had more often slept without sheets, and those at the cheap lodging houses at which we stayed were just as rough as Mother Barberin's.

I woke early, for I wanted to know how my animals had passed the night. I found them all at the place where I had installed them the night before, and sleeping as though the beautiful barge had been their home for several months. The dogs jumped up as I approached, but Pretty-Heart, although he had one eye half open, did not move; instead he commenced to snore like a trombone.

I guessed at once what was the matter: Pretty-Heart was very sensitive; he got angry very quickly and sulked for a long time. In the present circumstances he was annoyed because I had not taken him into my cabin, and he showed his displeasure by pretending to be asleep.

I could not explain to him why I had been forced to leave him on deck, and as I felt that I had, at least in appearances, done him an injury, I took him in my arms and cuddled him, to show him that I was sorry. At first he continued to sulk, but soon, with his changeable temper, he thought of something else, and by his signs made me understand that if I would take him for a walk on land he would perhaps forgive me. The man who was cleaning the deck was willing to throw the plank across for us, and I went off into the fields with my troop.

The time passed, playing with the dogs and chasing Pretty-Heart; when we returned the horses were harnessed and the barge in readiness to start. As soon as we were all on the boat the horses began to trot along the towing path; we glided over the water without feeling a movement, and the only sound to be heard was the song of the birds, the swish of the water against the boat, and the tinkle of bells around the horses' necks.