The Mill on the Floss George Eliot (ereader android .txt) đ
- Author: George Eliot
Book online «The Mill on the Floss George Eliot (ereader android .txt) đ». Author George Eliot
That was a painful thought to Maggie, and she wished much that the subsequent history of the young man had not been left a blank.
V Tom Comes HomeTom was to arrive early in the afternoon, and there was another fluttering heart besides Maggieâs when it was late enough for the sound of the gig-wheels to be expected; for if Mrs. Tulliver had a strong feeling, it was fondness for her boy. At last the sound cameâ âthat quick light bowling of the gig-wheelsâ âand in spite of the wind, which was blowing the clouds about, and was not likely to respect Mrs. Tulliverâs curls and cap-strings, she came outside the door, and even held her hand on Maggieâs offending head, forgetting all the griefs of the morning.
âThere he is, my sweet lad! But, Lord haâ mercy! heâs got never a collar on; itâs been lost on the road, Iâll be bound, and spoilt the set.â
Mrs. Tulliver stood with her arms open; Maggie jumped first on one leg and then on the other; while Tom descended from the gig, and said, with masculine reticence as to the tender emotions, âHallo! Yapâ âwhat! are you there?â
Nevertheless he submitted to be kissed willingly enough, though Maggie hung on his neck in rather a strangling fashion, while his blue-gray eyes wandered toward the croft and the lambs and the river, where he promised himself that he would begin to fish the first thing tomorrow morning. He was one of those lads that grow everywhere in England, and at twelve or thirteen years of age look as much alike as goslingsâ âa lad with light-brown hair, cheeks of cream and roses, full lips, indeterminate nose and eyebrowsâ âa physiognomy in which it seems impossible to discern anything but the generic character to boyhood; as different as possible from poor Maggieâs phiz, which Nature seemed to have moulded and coloured with the most decided intention. But that same Nature has the deep cunning which hides itself under the appearance of openness, so that simple people think they can see through her quite well, and all the while she is secretly preparing a refutation of their confident prophecies. Under these average boyish physiognomies that she seems to turn off by the gross, she conceals some of her most rigid, inflexible purposes, some of her most unmodifiable characters; and the dark-eyed, demonstrative, rebellious girl may after all turn out to be a passive being compared with this pink-and-white bit of masculinity with the indeterminate features.
âMaggie,â said Tom, confidentially, taking her into a corner, as soon as his mother was gone out to examine his box and the warm parlour had taken off the chill he had felt from the long drive, âyou donât know what Iâve got in my pockets,â nodding his head up and down as a means of rousing her sense of mystery.
âNo,â said Maggie. âHow stodgy they look, Tom! Is it marls (marbles) or cobnuts?â Maggieâs heart sank a little, because Tom always said it was âno goodâ playing with her at those games, she played so badly.
âMarls! no; Iâve swapped all my marls with the little fellows, and cobnuts are no fun, you silly, only when the nuts are green. But see here!â He drew something half out of his right-hand pocket.
âWhat is it?â said Maggie, in a whisper. âI can see nothing but a bit of yellow.â
âWhy, itâsâ âaâ ânewâ âguess, Maggie!â
âOh, I canât guess, Tom,â said Maggie, impatiently.
âDonât be a spitfire, else I wonât tell you,â said Tom, thrusting his hand back into his pocket and looking determined.
âNo, Tom,â said Maggie, imploringly, laying hold of the arm that was held stiffly in the pocket. âIâm not cross, Tom; it was only because I canât bear guessing. Please be good to me.â
Tomâs arm slowly relaxed, and he said, âWell, then, itâs a new fish-lineâ âtwo new unsâ âone for you, Maggie, all to yourself. I wouldnât go halves in the toffee and gingerbread on purpose to save the money; and Gibson and Spouncer fought with me because I wouldnât. And hereâs hooks; see hereâ âI say, wonât we go and fish tomorrow down by the Round Pool? And you shall catch your own fish, Maggie and put the worms on, and everything; wonât it be fun?â
Maggieâs answer was to throw her arms round Tomâs neck and hug him, and hold her cheek against his without speaking, while he slowly unwound some of the line, saying, after a pauseâ â
âWasnât I a good brother, now, to buy you a line all to yourself? You know, I neednât have bought it, if I hadnât liked.â
âYes, very, very goodâ âI do love you, Tom.â
Tom had put the line back in his pocket, and was looking at the hooks one by one, before he spoke again.
âAnd the fellows fought me, because I wouldnât give in about the toffee.â
âOh, dear! I wish they wouldnât fight at your school, Tom. Didnât it hurt you?â
âHurt me? no,â said Tom, putting up the hooks again, taking out a large pocketknife, and slowly opening the largest blade, which he looked at meditatively as he rubbed his finger along it. Then he addedâ â
âI gave Spouncer a black eye, I know; thatâs what he got by wanting to leather me; I wasnât going to go halves because anybody leathered me.â
âOh, how brave you are, Tom! I think youâre like Samson. If there came a lion roaring at me, I think youâd fight him, wouldnât you, Tom?â
âHow can a lion come roaring at you, you silly thing? Thereâs no lions, only in the shows.â
âNo; but if we were in the lion countriesâ âI mean in Africa, where itâs very hot; the lions eat people there. I can show it you in the book where I read it.â
âWell, I should get a gun and shoot him.â
âBut if you hadnât got a gunâ âwe might have gone out, you know, not thinking, just as we go fishing; and then a great lion might run towards us roaring, and we couldnât get away from him. What should you
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