The Crowstarver Read Online Free PDF Page A

home he said to his wife, ‘You remember that strange business a few years back when someone abandoned a newborn baby in the lambing-pens, and then Tom and Kathie Sparrow took him on?’
    â€˜Of course I remember,’ she replied.
    â€˜Well, I’ve just seen the child and he’s half-witted, no doubt of it.’
    â€˜Yes, I know,’ said Mrs Yorke. ‘You must be the last person in the valley to know, I suppose because your head’s always full of hounds and hunting. I’ve been to see him several times, poor little fellow. Of course he’s retarded, but there’s something rather taking about him.’
    â€˜Damn bad luck on the Sparrows,’ said Major Yorke.
    â€˜Maybe you can do something to help, later on, when the boy’s older,’ his wife said. ‘Find him something to do on the farm, perhaps, something simple, just to keep him occupied.’
    â€˜Huh!’ said her husband. ‘He doesn’t look strong enough to lift a sheaf of corn. Crowstarving’s about all he’ll be fit for by the look of him, walking up and down banging a sheet of tin with a stick to keep the birds off new-sown corn. Unless he improves a lot, which I don’t see how he can, because he’s never going to be fit to go to school.’
    On the morning after Spider’s sixth birthday, Percy Pound had sent Albie Stanhope to give Tom a hand at the lambing-pens. As Albie walked up the drove, he saw in the distance a horse and rider coming down towards him from the toplands of the farm. He quickened his pace and when he reached the shepherd’s hut, he called out ‘Tom! Mister’s coming!’
    â€˜Well, you’d better look busy then, Albie lad,’ said Tom, who was eating his breakfast. ‘Start cleaning the pens.’
    But before Albie could begin, he heard the noise of hooves and then saw Mister dismounting.
    â€˜Here, Albie,’ Major Yorke called, ‘hold my horse a minute, will you, while I have a word with Tom?’
    The horseman’s son obeyed with alacrity. He loved all horses, of whatever sort, and there was certainly an odd selection in the stables – the great shire mare Flower, several half-bred hairy-heeled carthorses, a couple of pensioned-off hunters used for light work, and even a large shaggy pony called Pony.
    But Mister’s big bay Sturdiboy was an aristocrat of his kind, and Albie was only too happy to stand at his head and stroke his velvety muzzle and talk to him in that special way that people who are fond of horses do.
    Inside the shepherd’s hut there was an exchange of ‘Good mornings’ and some general talk about the lambing, and then the farmer wasabout to leave again when Tom said ‘Have you got a minute, sir?’
    â€˜Yes certainly,’ said Mister.
    â€˜â€™Tis about Spider’s schooling.’
    â€˜Spider?’
    â€˜The boy, our boy.’
    â€˜Of course, of course.’
    â€˜See, he’s just turned six, sir, and Kathie and me, we was wondering, could you have a word with the vicar’ (it was a Church of England school) ‘and perhaps he could speak to the headmaster, to see whether he’d take the boy, this summer term coming. He’s a bit slow, you see, sir, bit backward like.’
    â€˜I’ll do what I can, Tom,’ said Major Yorke.
    â€˜Thank you, sir.’
    â€˜And look here, when he’s a bit older we’ll find something for him to do on the farm. He could lend a hand in the season, for a start.’
    â€˜He’s fond of animals,’ said Tom.
    â€˜Good, good. Anyway I’ll speak to the vicar.’
    Outside the gate of the lambing-pen there was a short length of old walling, and by this Albie Stanhope stood waiting, holding Sturdiboy. The bit of broken wall was of a height to serve as a mounting-block, and, using it thus, the farmer hoisted his bulk into the saddle.
    â€˜Thanks, Albie,’ he said, and off