Chapter V. Tom Comes Home

Tomwastoarriveearlyintheafternoon,andtherewasanotherflutteringheartbesidesMaggie’swhenitwaslateenoughforthesoundofthegig-wheelstobeexpectedforifMrsTulliverhadastrongfeeling,itwasfondnessforherboy.Atlastthesoundcame,—thatquicklightbowlingofthegig-wheels,—andinspiteofthewind,whichwasblowingthecloudsabout,andwasnotlikelytorespectMrsTulliver’scurlsandcap-strings,shecameoutsidethedoor,andevenheldherhandonMaggie’soffendinghead,forgettingallthegriefsofthemorning. “Thereheis,mysweetlad!But,Lordha’mercy!he’sgotneveracollaronit’sbeenlostontheroad,I’llbebound,andspoilttheset.” MrsTulliverstoodwithherarmsopenMaggiejumpedfirstononelegandthenontheotherwhileTomdescendedfromthegig,andsaid,withmasculinereticenceastothetenderemotions,“Hallo!Yap—what!areyouthere?” Neverthelesshesubmittedtobekissedwillinglyenough,thoughMaggiehungonhisneckinratherastranglingfashion,whilehisblue-grayeyeswanderedtowardthecroftandthelambsandtheriver,wherehepromisedhimselfthathewouldbegintofishthefirstthingto-morrowmorning.HewasoneofthoseladsthatgroweverywhereinEngland,andattwelveorthirteenyearsofagelookasmuchalikeasgoslings,—aladwithlight-brownhair,cheeksofcreamandroses,fulllips,indeterminatenoseandeyebrows,—aphysiognomyinwhichitseemsimpossibletodiscernanythingbutthegenericcharactertoboyhoodasdifferentaspossiblefrompoorMaggie’sphiz,whichNatureseemedtohavemouldedandcolouredwiththemostdecidedintention.ButthatsameNaturehasthedeepcunningwhichhidesitselfundertheappearanceofopenness,sothatsimplepeoplethinktheycanseethroughherquitewell,andallthewhilesheissecretlypreparingarefutationoftheirconfidentprophecies.Undertheseaverageboyishphysiognomiesthatsheseemstoturnoffbythegross,sheconcealssomeofhermostrigid,inflexiblepurposes,someofhermostunmodifiablecharactersandthedark-eyed,demonstrative,rebelliousgirlmayafterallturnouttobeapassivebeingcomparedwiththispink-and-whitebitofmasculinitywiththeindeterminatefeatures. “Maggie,”saidTom,confidentially,takingherintoacorner,assoonashismotherwasgoneouttoexaminehisboxandthewarmparlourhadtakenoffthechillhehadfeltfromthelongdrive,“youdon’tknowwhatI’vegotinmypockets,”noddinghisheadupanddownasameansofrousinghersenseofmystery. “No,”saidMaggie.“Howstodgytheylook,Tom!Isitmarls(marbles)orcobnuts?”Maggie’sheartsankalittle,becauseTomalwayssaiditwas“nogood”playingwithheratthosegames,sheplayedsobadly. “Marls!noI’veswoppedallmymarlswiththelittlefellows,andcobnutsarenofun,yousilly,onlywhenthenutsaregreen.Butseehere!”Hedrewsomethinghalfoutofhisright-handpocket. “Whatisit?”saidMaggie,inawhisper.“Icanseenothingbutabitofyellow.” “Why,it’s—a—new—guess,Maggie!” “Oh,Ican’tguess,Tom,”saidMaggie,impatiently. “Don’tbeaspitfire,elseIwon’ttellyou,”saidTom,thrustinghishandbackintohispocketandlookingdetermined. “No,Tom,”saidMaggie,imploringly,layingholdofthearmthatwasheldstifflyinthepocket.“I’mnotcross,TomitwasonlybecauseIcan’tbearguessing.Pleasebegoodtome.” Tom’sarmslowlyrelaxed,andhesaid,“Well,then,it’sanewfish-line—twonewuns,—oneforyou,Maggie,alltoyourself.Iwouldn’tgohalvesinthetoffeeandgingerbreadonpurposetosavethemoneyandGibsonandSpouncerfoughtwithmebecauseIwouldn’t.Andhere’shooksseehere—Isay,won’twegoandfishto-morrowdownbytheRoundPool?Andyoushallcatchyourownfish,Maggieandputthewormson,andeverythingwon’titbefun?” Maggie’sanswerwastothrowherarmsroundTom’sneckandhughim,andholdhercheekagainsthiswithoutspeaking,whileheslowlyunwoundsomeoftheline,saying,afterapause,— “Wasn’tIagoodbrother,now,tobuyyoualinealltoyourself?Youknow,Ineedn’thaveboughtit,ifIhadn’tliked.” “Yes