Classic Poem

Journeys end in lovers' meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.


"I wonder what will happen to me now," thought Black Sheep, when the
semi-pagan rites peculiar to the burial of the Dead in middle-class
houses had been accomplished, and Aunty Rosa, awful in black crape,
had returned to this life. "I don't think I've done anything bad that
she knows of. I suppose I will soon. She will be very cross after
Uncle Harry's dying, and Harry will be cross too. I 'll keep in the
nursery."

Unfortunately for Punch's plans, it was decided that he should be sent
to a day-school which Harry attended. This meant a morning walk with
Harry, and perhaps an evening one; but the prospect of freedom in the
interval was refreshing. "Harry 'll tell everything I do, but I won't
do anything," said Black Sheep. Fortified with this virtuous
resolution, he went to school only to find that Harry's version of his
character had preceded him, and that life was a burden in consequence.
He took stock of his associates. Some of them were unclean, some of
them talked in dialect, many dropped their h's, and there were two
Jews and a Negro, or someone quite as dark, in the assembly. "That's a
hubshi," said Black Sheep to himself. "Even Meeta used to laugh at a
hubshi. I don't think this is a proper place." He was indignant for at
least an hour, till he reflected that any expostulation on his part
would be by Aunty Rosa construed into "showing off," and that Harry
would tell the boys.

"How do you like school?" said Aunty Rosa at the end of the day.

"I think it is a very nice place," said Punch quietly.

"I suppose you warned the boys of Black Sheep's character?" said Aunty
Rosa to Harry.

"Oh, yes!" said the censor of Black Sheep's morals. "They know all
about him."

"If I was with my father," said Black Sheep, stung to the quick, "I
should n't speak to those boys. He would n't let me. They live in
shops. I saw them go into shops--where their fathers live and sell
things."

"You're too good for that school, are you?" said Aunty Rosa, with a
bitter smile. "You ought to be grateful, Black Sheep, that those boys
speak to you at all. It is n't every school that takes little liars."

Harry did not fail to make much capital out of Black Sheep's
ill-considered remark; with the result that several boys, including
the hubshi, demonstrated to Black Sheep the eternal equality of the
human race by smacking his head, and his consolation from Aunty Rosa
was that it "served him right for being vain." He learned, however, to
keep his opinions to himself, and by propitiating Harry in carrying
books and the like to secure a little peace. His existence was not too
joyful. From nine till twelve he was at school, and from two to four,
except on Saturdays. In the evenings he was sent down into the nursery
to prepare his lessons for the next day, and every night came the
dreaded cross-questionings at Harry's hand. Of Judy he saw but little.
She was deeply religious--at six years of age Religion is easy to come
by--and sorely divided between her natural love for Black Sheep and
her love for Aunty Rosa, who could do no wrong.

The lean woman returned that love with interest, and Judy, when she
dared, took advantage of this for the remission of Black Sheep's
penalties. Failures in lessons at school were furnished at home by a
week without reading other than schoolbooks, and Harry brought the
news of such a failure with glee. Further, Black Sheep was then bound
to repeat his lessons at bedtime to Harry, who generally succeeded in
making him break down, and consoled him by gloomiest forebodings for
the morrow. Harry was at once spy, practical joker, inquisitor, and
Aunty Rosa's deputy executioner. He filled his many posts to
admiration. From his actions, now that Uncle Harry was dead, there was
no appeal. Black Sheep had not been permitted to keep any self-respect
at school; at home he was of course utterly discredited, and grateful
for any pity that the servant-girls--they changed frequently at Downe
Lodge because they, too, were liars--might show. "You 're just fit to
row in the same boat with Black Sheep," was a sentiment that each new
Jane or Eliza might expect to hear, before a month was over, from
Aunty Rosa's lips; and Black Sheep was used to ask new girls whether
they had yet been compared to him. Harry was "Master Harry" in their
mouths; Judy was officially "Miss Judy"; but Black Sheep was never
anything more than Black Sheep tout court.

As time went on and the memory of Papa and Mamma became wholly
overlaid by the unpleasant task of writing them letters under Aunty
Rosa's eye, each Sunday, Black Sheep forgot what manner of life he had
led in the beginning of things. Even Judy's appeals to "try and
remember about Bombay" failed to quicken him.

"I can't remember," he said. "I know I used to give orders and Mamma
kissed me."

"Aunty Rosa will kiss you if you are good," pleaded Judy.

"Ugh! I don't want to be kissed by Aunty Rosa. She'd say I was doing
it to get something more to eat."

The weeks lengthened into months, and the holidays came; but just
before the holidays Black Sheep fell into deadly sin.

Among the many boys whom Harry had incited to "punch Black Sheep's
head because he dare n't hit back," was one more aggravating than the
rest, who, in an unlucky moment, fell upon Black Sheep when Harry was
not near. The blows stung, and Black Sheep struck back at random with
all the power at his command. The boy dropped and whimpered. Black
Sheep was astounded at his own act, but, feeling the unresisting body
under him, shook it with both his hands in blind fury and then began
to throttle his enemy; meaning honestly to slay him. There was a
scuffle, and Black Sheep was torn off the body by Harry and some
colleagues, and cuffed home tingling but exultant. Aunty Rosa was out;
pending her arrival Harry set himself to lecture Black Sheep on the
sin of murder--which he described as the offence of Cain.

"Why did n't you fight him fair? What did you hit him when he was down
for, you little cur?"

Black Sheep looked up at Harry's throat and then at a knife on the
dinner-table.

"I don't understand," he said wearily. "You always set him on me and
told me I was a coward when I blubbed. Will you leave me alone until
Aunty Rosa comes in? She'll beat me if you tell her I ought to be
beaten; so it's all right."

"It's all wrong," said Harry magisterially. "You nearly killed him,
and I should n't wonder if he dies."

"Will he die?" said Black Sheep.

"I daresay," said Harry, "and then you'll be hanged."

"All right," said Black Sheep, possessing himself of the table-knife.
"Then I'll kill you now. You say things and do things and--and I
don't know how things happen, and you never leave me alone--and I
don't care what happens!"

He ran at the boy with the knife, and Harry fled upstairs to his room,
promising Black Sheep the finest thrashing in the world when Aunty
Rosa returned. Black Sheep sat at the bottom of the stairs, the
table-knife in his hand, and wept for that he had not killed Harry.
The servant-girl came up from the kitchen, took the knife away, and
consoled him. But Black Sheep was beyond consolation. He would be
badly beaten by Aunty Rosa; then there would be another beating at
Harry's hands; then Judy would not be allowed to speak to him; then
the tale would be told at school and then----

There was no one to help and no one to care, and the best way out of
the business was by death. A knife would hurt, but Aunty Rosa had told
him, a year ago, that if he sucked paint he would die. He went into
the nursery, unearthed the now-disused Noah's Ark, and sucked the
paint off as many animals as remained. It tasted abominable, but he
had licked Noah's Dove clean by the time Aunty Rosa and Judy returned.
He went upstairs and greeted them with: "Please, Aunty Rosa, I believe
I've nearly killed a boy at school, and I've tried to kill Harry, and
when you've done all about God and Hell, will you beat me and get it
over?"

The tale of the assault as told by Harry could only be explained on
the ground of possession by the Devil. Wherefore Black Sheep was not
only most excellently beaten, once by Aunty Rosa and once, when
thoroughly cowed down, by Harry, but he was further prayed for at
family prayers, together with Jane, who had stolen a cold rissole from
the pantry and snuffled audibly as her enormity was brought before the
Throne of Grace. Black Sheep was sore and stiff, but triumphant. He
would die that very night and be rid of them all. No, he would ask for
no forgiveness from Harry, and at bedtime would stand no questioning
at Harry's hands, even though addressed as "Young Cain."

"I've been beaten," said he, "and I've done other things. I don't care
what I do. If you speak to me to-night, Harry, I'll get out and try to
kill you. Now you can kill me if you like."

Harry took his bed into the spare-room, and Black Sheep lay down to
die.

It may be that the makers of Noah's Arks know that their animals are
likely to find their way into young mouths, and paint them
accordingly. Certain it is that the common, weary next morning broke
through the windows and found Black Sheep quite well and a good deal
ashamed of himself, but richer by the knowledge that he could, in
extremity, secure himself against Harry for the future.

When he descended to breakfast on the first day of the holidays, he
was greeted with the news that Harry, Aunty Rosa, and Judy were going
away to Brighton, while Black Sheep was to stay in the house with the
servant. His latest outbreak suited Aunty Rosa's plans admirably. It
gave her good excuse for leaving the extra boy behind. Papa in Bombay,
who really seemed to know a young sinner's wants to the hour, sent,
that week, a package of new books. And with these, and the society of
Jane on board-wages, Black Sheep was left alone for a month.

The books lasted for ten days. They were eaten too quickly, in long
gulps of four-and-twenty hours at a time. Then came days of doing
absolutely nothing, of dreaming dreams and marching imaginary armies
up and down stairs, of counting the number of banisters, and of
measuring the length and breadth of every room in handspans--fifty
down the side, thirty across, and fifty back again. Jane made many
friends, and, after receiving Black Sheep's assurance that he would
not tell of her absences, went out daily for long hours. Black Sheep
would follow the rays of the sinking sun from the kitchen to the
dining-room and thence upward to his own bedroom until all was gray
dark, and he ran down to the kitchen fire and read by its light. He
was happy in that he was left alone and could read as much as he
pleased. But, later, he grew afraid of the shadows of window-curtains
and the flapping of doors and the creaking of shutters. He went out
into the garden, and the rustling of the laurel-bushes frightened him.

He was glad when they all returned--Aunty Rosa, Harry, and Judy--full
of news, and Judy laden with gifts. Who could help loving loyal little
Judy? In return for all her merry babblement, Black Sheep confided to
her that the distance from the hall-door to the top of the first
landing was exactly one hundred and eighty-four handspans. He had
found it out himself.

Then the old life recommenced; but with a difference, and a new sin.
To his other iniquities Black Sheep had now added a phenomenal
clumsiness--was as unfit to trust in action as he was in word. He
himself could not account for spilling everything he touched,
upsetting glasses as he put his hand out, and bumping his head against
doors that were manifestly shut. There was a gray haze upon all his
world, and it narrowed month by month, until at last it left Black
Sheep almost alone with the flapping curtains that were so like
ghosts, and the nameless terrors of broad daylight that were only
coats on pegs after all.

Holidays came and holidays went, and Black Sheep was taken to see many
people whose faces were all exactly alike; was beaten when occasion
demanded, and tortured by Harry on all possible occasions; but
defended by Judy through good and evil report, though she hereby drew
upon herself the wrath of Aunty Rosa.

The weeks were interminable and Papa and Mamma were clean forgotten.
Harry had left school and was a clerk in a Banking-Office. Freed from
his presence, Black Sheep resolved that he should no longer be
deprived of his allowance of pleasure-reading. Consequently, when he
failed at school he reported that all was well, and conceived a large
contempt for Aunty Rosa as he saw how easy it was to deceive her. "She
says I'm a little liar when I don't tell lies, and now I do, she does
n't know," thought Black Sheep. Aunty Rosa had credited him in the
past with petty cunning and stratagem that had never entered into his
head. By the light of the sordid knowledge that she had revealed to
him he paid her back full tale. In a household where the most innocent
of his motives, his natural yearning for a little affection, had been
interpreted into a desire for more bread and jam or to ingratiate
himself with strangers and so put Harry into the background, his work
was easy. Aunty Rosa could penetrate certain kinds of hypocrisy, but
not all. He set his child's wits against hers and was no more beaten.
It grew monthly more and more of a trouble to read the schoolbooks,
and even the pages of the open-print story-books danced and were dim.
So Black Sheep brooded in the shadows that fell about him and cut him
off from the world, inventing horrible punishments for "dear Harry,"
or plotting another line of the tangled web of deception that he
wrapped round Aunty Rosa.

Then the crash came and the cobwebs were broken. It was impossible to
foresee everything. Aunty Rosa made personal inquiries as to Black
Sheep's progress and received information that startled her. Step by
step, with a delight as keen as when she convicted an underfed
housemaid of the theft of cold meats, she followed the trail of Black
Sheep's delinquencies. For weeks and weeks, in order to escape
banishment from the book-shelves, he had made a fool of Aunty Rosa, of
Harry, of God, of all the world. Horrible, most horrible, and evidence
of an utterly depraved mind.

Black Sheep counted the cost. "It will only be one big beating, and
then she'll put a card with 'Liar' on my back, same as she did before.
Harry will whack me and pray for me, and she will pray for me at
prayers and tell me I'm a Child of the Devil and give me hymns to
learn. But I've done all my reading and she never knew. She'll say she
knew all along. She's an old liar, too," said he.

For three days Black Sheep was shut in his own bedroom--to prepare his
heart. "That means two beatings. One at school and one here. That one
will hurt most." And it fell even as he thought. He was thrashed at
school before the Jews and the hubshi, for the heinous crime of
bringing home false reports of progress. He was thrashed at home by
Aunty Rosa on the same count, and then the placard was produced. Aunty
Rosa stitched it between his shoulders and bade him go for a walk with
it upon him.

"If you make me do that," said Black Sheep very quietly, "I shall burn
this house down, and perhaps I'll kill you. I don't know whether I can
kill you--you 're so bony--but I'll try."

No punishment followed this blasphemy, though Black Sheep held himself
ready to work his way to Aunty Rosa's withered throat, and grip there
till he was beaten off. Perhaps Aunty Rosa was afraid, for Black
Sheep, having reached the Nadir of Sin, bore himself with a new
recklessness.

In the midst of all the trouble there came a visitor from over the
seas to Downe Lodge, who knew Papa and Mamma, and was commissioned to
see Punch and Judy. Black Sheep was sent to the drawing-room and
charged into a solid tea-table laden with china.

"Gently, gently, little man," said the visitor turning Black Sheep's
face to the light slowly. "What's that big bird on the palings?"

"What bird?" asked Black Sheep.

The visitor looked deep down into Black Sheep's eyes for