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Page 9

"Here, get on my back, and I'll swim you out as far as them
water-lilies," said Lubin, giving him a dexterous hoist. "I'm awfully
keen on the yellow sort, and they look wonderful fine ones. That's
better. Now, Sir, you can just imagine yourself any drownded heathen
as comes into your head, only hold tight and don't stir. If you do
you'll get drownded in good earnest, and I shall have to settle
accounts with your aunt afterwards. Are you ready? Right, then. And
now away we go."

He struck out strongly and slowly, with Austin crouching on his
shoulders. They arrived in safety at the point aimed at, and managed
to tear away a grand cluster of the great, beautiful yellow flowers;
but the process was a very ticklish one, and the struggle resulted,
not unnaturally, in Austin becoming dislodged from his not very secure
position, and floundering head foremost into the depths. Lubin caught
him as he rose again, and, taking him firmly by one hand, helped him
to swim alongside of him back to the shore. It was a difficult feat,
and by the time they had accomplished the distance they were both
pretty well exhausted.

"You _have_ been good to me, Lubin," gasped Austin, as he flung
himself sprawling on the grass. "I've had a lovely time--haven't you
too? Was I very heavy? Perhaps it is rather a bore to have only one
leg when one wants to swim. But now you can always say you've saved me
from drowning, can't you. I should have gone under a dozen times if
you hadn't held me up and lugged me about. Oh, dear, now we must put
on our clothes again--what a barbarism clothes are! I do hate them so,
don't you? But I suppose there's no help for it.

"Rise, Lubin, rise, and twitch thy mantle blue;
To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.

"Oh, do help me to screw on my leg. That's it. I say, it's a
quarter-past one! We must hurry up, or Aunt Charlotte will be cursing.
What _does_ it matter if one eats at half-past one or at a quarter to
two? I really am very fond of Aunt Charlotte, you know, though I find
it awfully difficult to educate her. I sometimes despair of ever being
able to bring her up properly at all, she is so hopelessly Early
Victorian, poor thing. But, then, so many people are, aren't they? Now
animals are never Early Victorian; that's why I respect them so. If
you weren't a human being, Lubin--and a very nice one, as you
are--what sort of an animal would you like to be?"

"Well, I don't rightly know as I ever considered the point," said
Lubin, passing his fingers through his drenched curls. "Perhaps I'd as
lief be a squirrel as anything. I'm awfully fond o' nuts, and when I
was a kid I used to spend half my time a-climbing trees. A squirrel
must have rather a jolly life of it, when one comes to think."

"What a splendid idea!" cried Austin, as they prepared to start. "You
_are_ clever, Lubin. It would be lovely to live in a tree, curtained
all round with thousands of quivering green leaves. I wish I knew what
animals think about all day. It must be very dull for them never to
have any thoughts, poor dears, and yet they seem happy enough
somehow. Perhaps they have something else instead to make up for
it--something that we've no idea of. I _say_--it's half-past one!"

So Austin was late for lunch after all, and got a scolding from Aunt
Charlotte, who told him that it was exceedingly ill-bred to
inconvenience other people by habitual unpunctuality. Austin was very
penitent, and promised he'd never be unpunctual again if he lived to
be a hundred. Then Aunt Charlotte was mollified, and regaled him with
an improving account of a most excellent book she had just been
reading, upon the importance of instilling sound principles of
political economy into the mind of the agricultural labourer. It was
so essential, she explained, that people in that position should
understand something about the laws which govern prices, the relations
of capital and labour, the _metayer_ system, and the ratio which
should exist between an increase of population and the exhaustion of
the soil by too frequent crops of wheat; and she wound up by
propounding a series of hypothetical problems based on the doctrines
she had set forth, for Austin to solve offhand.

Austin listened very dutifully for some time, but the subject bored
him atrociously, and his attention began to wander. At last he made
some rather vague and irrelevant replies, and then announced boldly
that he thought all politicians were very silly old gentlemen,
particularly economists; for his own part, he hated economy,
especially when he wanted to buy something beautiful to look at; he
further considered that political economists would be much better
employed if they sat contemplating tulips instead of writing horrid
books, and that Lubin was a great deal wiser than the whole pack of
them put together. Then Aunt Charlotte got extremely angry, and a
great wrangle ensued, in the course of which she said he was a
foolish, ignorant boy, who talked nonsense for the sake of talking it.
Austin replied by asking if she knew what a quincunx was, or what
Virgil was really driving at when he composed the First Eclogue, and
whether she had ever heard of Lycidas; and when she said that she had
something better to do than stuff her head with quidnunxes and all
such pagan rubbish, he remarked very politely that ignorance was
evidently not all of the same sort. Which sent Aunt Charlotte bustling
away in a huff to look after her household duties.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Thu 18th Dec 2025, 13:10

Austin and His Friends by Frederic H. Balfour