So, after two days' rest, which he much needed, the boy went off again "on his own hook," and his bicycle, which was a degree better than his legs, he said, as it saves shoe-leather. Also, he was able to come home pretty regularly at the same hour, which was a great relief to his mother. But he came home nearly as tired as ever, and with a despondent look which deepened every day. Evidently it was just the same story; no work to be had; or if there was work, it was struggled for by a score of fellows, with age, character, and experience to back them, and Donald had none of the three. But he had one quality, the root of all success in the end, dogged perseverance.
There is a saying, that we British gain our victories, not because we are never beaten, but because we never will see that we are beaten, and so go on fighting till we win. "Never say die," was Donald's word to his mother night after night. But she knew that those who never SAY die, sometimes DO die, quite quietly, and she watched with a sore heart her boy growing thinner and more worn, even though brown as a berry with constant exposure all day long to wind and weather, for it was now less autumn than winter.
After a fortnight, Mrs. Boyd made up her mind that this could not go on any longer, and said so. "Very well," Donald answered, accepting her decision as he had been in the habit of doing all his life.--Mrs. Boyd's children knew very well that whatever her will was, it was sure to be a just and wise will, herself being the last person she ever thought of.--"Yes, I'll give in, if you think I ought, for it's only wearing out myself and my clothes to no good. Only let me have one day more and I'll go as far as ever I can, perhaps to Dunfermline, or even Glasgow."
She would not forbid, and once more she started him off with a cheerful face in the twilight of the wet October morning, and sat all day long in the empty house--for the younger ones were now all going to school again--thinking sorrowfully of her eldest, whose merry school days were done forever.
In the dusk of the afternoon a card was brought up to her, with the message that an old gentleman was waiting below, wishing to see her.
A shudder ran through the poor mother, who, like many another mother, hated bicycles, and never had an easy mind when Donald was away on his. The stranger's first word was anything but reassuring.
"Beg pardon ma'am, but is your name Boyd, and have you a son called Donald, who went out on a bicycle this morning?"
"Yes, yes! Has anything happened? Tell me quick!"
"I'm not aware, ma'am, that anything has happened," said the old gentleman. "I saw the lad at light this morning. He seemed to be managing his machine uncommonly well. I met him at the foot of a hill near Edinburgh Castle. He had got off and was walking; so he saw me, and took off his cap. I like respect, especially in a young fellow towards an old one."
"Did he know you, for I have not that pleasure?" said Mrs. Boyd, polite, though puzzled. For the old man did not look quite like a gentleman, and spoke with the strong accent of an uneducated person, yet he had a kindly expression, and seemed honest and well-meaning, though decidedly "canny."
"I cannot say he knew me, but he remembered me, which was civil of him. And then I minded the lad as the one that had come to me for work a week or two ago, and I took his name and address.
That's your son's writing?" he jumbled out and showed a scrap of paper. "It's bona fide, isn't it?
"And he really is in search of work? He hasn't run away from home, or been turned out by his father for misconduct, or anything of that sort? He isn't a scamp, or a ne'er-do-weel?"
"I hope he doesn't look like it," said Mrs. Boyd, proudly.
"No, ma'am; you're right, he doesn't. He carries his character in his face which, maybe, is better than in his pocket. It was that which made me ask his name and address, though I could do nothing for him."
"Then you were the gentleman who told him you couldn't keep a dog and bark yourself?" said Mrs. Boyd, amused, and just a shade hopeful.
"Precisely. Nor can I. It would have been cool impudence in a lad to come and ask to be taught his work first and then paid for it, if he hadn't been so very much in earnest that I was rather sorry for him. I'm inclined to believe, from the talk I had with him at the foot of the brae to-day, that he is a young dog that would bark with uncommon little teaching. Material, ma'am, is what we want. I don't care for its being raw material, if it's only of the right sort. I've made up my mind to try your boy."
"Thank God!"
"What did you say, ma'am? But--I beg your pardon."
For he saw that Mrs. Boyd had quite broken down. In truth, the strain had been so long and so great that this sudden relief was quite too much for her. She sobbed heartily.
"I ought to beg your pardon," she said at last, "for being so foolish, but we have had hard times of late."
