Wikkey is a Webnovel created by Henrietta Vaders.
This lightnovel is currently completed.
Presently the high voice spoke again–
“Why mustn’t I, guvner?”
“Why mustn’t you what?”
“Talk like that of _him_?” pointing to Reginald.
“Because it’s not civil. Mr. Trevor is my friend, and I am very fond of him.”
“Must I like everythink as you like?”
“Yes, of course,” said Lawrence, rather amused.
“Then I will, guvner–but it’s a rum start.”
He lay still after that, while the two men talked, but Reginald noted how the boy’s eyes were scarcely ever moved from Lawrence’s face. As he took leave of his cousin in the hall, he said–
“You will do more for him just now than I could, Lawrence; you will have to take him in hand.”
“But I haven’t the faintest notion what to do, Reg. I shall have to come to you and get my lesson up. What am I to begin with?”
“Time will show; let it come naturally. Of course I will give you any help I can, but you will tackle him far better than I could. You have plenty to work upon, for if ever a boy loved with his whole heart and soul, that boy loves you.”
“Loves me–yes; but that won’t do, you know.”
“It will do a great deal; a soul that loves something better than itself is not far off loving the Best. Good night, old fellow.”
Lawrence went back to Wikkey, and leant his back against the mantelpiece, looking thoughtfully down at the boy.
“What did the other chap call you?” inquired Wikkey.
“Granby, do you mean?”
Wikkey nodded.
“Lawrence Granby,–that is my name. But, Wikkey, you must not call him ‘chap’; you must call him Mr. Trevor.”
“Oh, my eye! he’s a swell, is he? I never call you nothink only guvner; I shall call you Lawrence; it’s a big name like you, and a deal nicer nor guvner.”
Lawrence gave a little laugh. Was it his duty to inculcate a proper respect for his betters into this boy? If he were going to live it might be; but when he thought how soon all earthly distinctions would be over for Wikkey, it seemed hardly worth while.
“Very well,” he said. “By-the-by, Wikkey, have you recollected your own other name?”
“Yes, I’ve minded it. It’s Whiston.”
“Do you remember your father and mother?”
“I don’t remember no father. Mother, she died after I took to the crossing.”
“Do you know what her name was before she was married?”
Wikkey shook his head. “Don’t know nothink,” he said. Lawrence showed him the old Bible, but it awoke no recollections in the boy’s mind; he only repeated, “I don’t know nothink.”
“Wikkey,” said Lawrence again, after a silence, “what made you take a fancy to me?”
“I dunno. I liked the looks of yer the very first time as ever you came over, and after that I thought a deal of yer. I thought that if you was King of England, I’d have ‘listed and gone for a soldier. I don’t think much of queens myself, but I’d have fought for you, and welcome. And I thought as I wouldn’t have had you see me cheat Jim of his coppers. I dunno why;” and a look of real perplexity came into Wikkey’s face as the problem presented itself to his mind.
“Did you often cheat Jim?”
“Scores o’ times,” answered the boy composedly. “We’d play pitch-and-toss, and then I’d palm a ha’ penny, and Jim he’d never twig.”
A quick turn of the bony wrist showed how dexterously the trick had been done, and Wikkey went off into a shrill cackle at the recollection of his triumphs. “He’s the biggest flat as ever I came across. Why, I’ve seen him look up and down the gutter for them browns till I thought I’d have killed myself with trying not to laugh out.”
The puckers in the thin face were so irresistibly comical that Lawrence found it hard to preserve his own gravity: however, he contrived to compose his features, and to say, with a touch of severity–
“I can tell why you wouldn’t have liked me to see you; it was because you knew you were doing wrong.” Wikkey’s face expressed no comprehension. “It was wicked to cheat Jim, and you were a bad boy when you did it.”
“My stars! why, he could have got ’em from me in a juffy; he was twice my size. I only boned ’em cos he was such a soft.”
The explanation appeared perfectly satisfactory to Wikkey, but Lawrence, feeling that this was an opportunity that should not be lost, made a desperate effort and began again–
“It was wicked all the same; and though I did not see you do it, there was Someone Who did–Someone Who sees everything you do. Have you ever heard of G.o.d, Wikkey?”
“Yes, I’ve heard on Him. I’ve heard the Name times about. (‘_How_ used?’
wondered Lawrence.) Where is he?”
“He is everywhere, though you cannot see Him, and He sees everything you do.”
“Is he good?”
“Very good.”
“As good as you?”
“A great deal better.” Poor Lawrence felt very uncomfortable, not quite knowing how to place his instructions on a less familiar footing.
“I don’t want no one better nor you; you’re good enough for me,” said Wikkey, very decidedly; and then Lawrence gave it up in despair, and mentally resolving that Reg must help him, he carried Wikkey off to bed.
CHAPTER II.
The following evening Lawrence found a letter from his cousin on his table.
“From what you tell me,” Reginald wrote, “I should say that Wikkey must be taught through his affections: that he is capable of a strong and generous affection he has fully proved, so that I advise you not to attempt for the present much doctrinal instruction. (‘Doctrinal instruction!’ mentally e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Lawrence; ‘what does he mean? as if I could do that;’ then he read on.) What I mean is this: the boy’s intellect has probably, from the circ.u.mstances of his life, been too strongly developed to have left much room for the simple faith which one has to work on in ordinary childhood; and having been used chiefly as a weapon, offensive and defensive, in the battle with life, it is not likely to prove a very helpful instrument just now, as it would probably make him quicker to discern difficulties than to accept truths upon trust. I should, therefore, be inclined to place religion before him in a way that would appeal more to his affections than to his reason, and try to interest him in our Lord from, so to speak, a _human_ point of view, without going into the mysteries connected with the Incarnation, and if possible without, at first, telling the end of the Gospel narrative. Speak of a Person–One Whom you love–Who might have lived for ever in perfect happiness, but Who, from love to us, preferred to come and live on earth in poverty and suffering (the poor lad will appreciate the meaning of those words only too well)–Who was all-powerful, though living as a Man, and full of tenderness. Then tell of the miracles and works of love, of his continued existence–though for the present invisible to us–of His love and watchfulness; and when Wikkey’s interest is aroused, as I believe it will be, I should read from the Bible itself the story of the sufferings and death. Can you gather any meaning from this rough outline? It seems to me that it is intended that Wikkey should be led _upwards_ from the human to the Divine. For others a different plan of teaching might be better, but I think this is the right key to his development; and, moreover, I firmly believe that you will be shown how to use it.”
Lawrence remained for some time after reading his letter with his elbows on the table, and his head resting on his hands, which were buried in his thick brown hair; a look of great perplexity was on his face.