Page:Popular Science Monthly Volume 10.djvu/618

600 Charles Begg was a low-class London cockney, and an ignorant, brutal vagabond, who had a habit of coming home drunk, of thrashing his apprentice, and then going up-stairs and beating his wife. His relation to natural history was the same as that of Tom's teachers. He had no love whatever for the works of Nature, and very naturally detested those who had. Tom had a love of birds and living creatures, and Begg hated him accordingly. If Tom brought any curiosities, Begg threw them into the street—his little boxes, with butterflies, birds'-eggs, etc. One afternoon, when Edward had finished his work, he was sitting with a young sparrow on his knee which he had trained and taught to do a number of little tricks. It was his pet, and he loved it dearly. While thus occupied the master came in drunk, and, seeing what he was doing, knocked him down, while the bird fluttered to the ground, was trampled on, and died. In this way three years passed, when one day Edward brought three young moles to the shop, in his bonnet. When Begg found them, he killed them at once, knocked down Edward with a last, seized him by the neck and breast, dragged him to the door, and with a horrible imprecation threw him into the street. Tom did not return. He wanted to be a sailor, but his father opposed it. He then ran away from home to see an uncle a long way off, who kept him all night, gave him eighteen pence, and sent him back. He had various adventures in this excursion, such as the following: He came up to three men standing in the road; two of them were gentlemen, and the third seemed to be a gamekeeper. He was showing them something which he had shot in the adjoining wood. Edward went forward, and saw that it was a bird with blue wings, and a large, variegated head. "What do you want?" said the gamekeeper to Edward. "To have a sight of the bird, if you please." "There, then!" said the gamekeeper, and thrust the bird in his face, nearly blinding him. When he got home, he tried the ships again, to go to sea, and attempted to get on board of a vessel as a "stow-away" to go to America, but could not accomplish it. So he resumed shoemaking with another and kinder employer, who did not persecute him for his love of natural things. He now started a little garden for wild-flowers, and began to prepare places for his various creatures, but his resources were too rude, and his knowledge not sufficient to succeed very well. He made tours among the booksellers to inspect the pictures in the windows, and now and then was able to buy a cheap book. He took the Penny Magazine and the Weekly Visitor, which cost but a half-penny. He was now about eighteen years old, and, the shoe-business growing flat, he enlisted in the militia for a short time, and one day, when on drill, a large, brown butterfly flitted past, such as he had never seen before, and in an instant he was off after it. After chasing it awhile, he (not the butterfly) was captured by the corporal and four militiamen, who marched him to the guard-house. The high functionaries were astounded, and