



Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




The Thorogood Family, by R.M. Ballantyne.

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Although the book is written with Ballantyne's usual great skill in
descriptive passages, the actual plan of the book is most unusual for
him.  In Chapter 1 he describes a young family, then describes the
exploits of some of the boys of the family, now grown-up, in Chapters 2,
3, 4 and 5. But in Chapter 5 there is introduced a story about a
schoolboy who is nothing to do with the Thorogoods, though it is quite a
good story, parts of it reminding one of "Martin Rattler," and his days
at school.  In Chapter 6 we are back to one of the Thorogood boys, who
is a missionary in London, working among the poor.  The final chapter
also contains a long story about a third party, and ends with most of
the family emigrating to the Rockies in North America.  Here again the
enwrapped short story is a good read.

We must remember that in Ballantyne's usual style there are often two
stories in some way running parallel with each other.  In this case
there are no less than six, and two of those enwrap a further story.  It
is really quite unusual for Ballantyne to write in such a convoluted
manner.

But be not afraid.  The stories are very short.  Ballantyne normally
writes with each of his chapters nearly of the same length, but here we
have 7, 6, 7, 8, 23, 9, 36 pages in the seven chapters, and it consists
of at least ten exciting episodes.  It is worth a read.

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THE THOROGOOD FAMILY, R.M. BALLANTYNE.



CHAPTER ONE.

This family was not only Thorogood but thorough-going.  The father was a
blacksmith, with five sons and one daughter, and he used to hammer truth
into his children's heads with as much vigour as he was wont to hammer
the tough iron on his anvil; but he did it kindly.  He was not a
growly-wowly, cross-grained man, like some fathers we know of--not he.
His broad, hairy face was like a sun, and his eyes darted sunbeams
wherever they turned.  The faces of his five sons were just like his
own, except in regard to roughness and hair.  Tom, and Dick, and Harry,
and Bob, and Jim, were their names.  Jim was the baby.  Their ages were
equally separated.  If you began with Jim, who was three, you had only
to say--four, five, six, seven--Tom being seven.

These five boys were broad, and sturdy, like their father.  Like him,
also, they were fond of noise and hammering.  They hammered the
furniture of their father's cottage, until all of it that was weak was
smashed, and all that was strong became dreadfully dinted.  They also
hammered each other's noses with their little fat fists, at times, but
they soon grew too old and wise for that; they soon, also, left off
hammering the heads of their sister's dolls, which was a favourite
amusement in their earlier days.

The mention of dolls brings us to the sister.  She was like her mother--
little, soft, fair, and sweet-voiced; just as unlike her brothers in
appearance as possible--except that she had their bright blue, blazing
eyes.  Her age was eight years.

It was, truly, a sight to behold this family sit down to supper of an
evening.  The blacksmith would come in and seize little Jim in his
brawny arms, and toss him up to the very beams of the ceiling, after
which he would take little Molly on his knee, and fondle her, while "Old
Moll," as he sometimes called his wife, spread the cloth and loaded the
table with good things.

A cat, a kitten, and a terrier, lived together in that smith's cottage
on friendly terms.  They romped with each other, and with the five boys,
so that the noise used sometimes to be tremendous; but it was not an
unpleasant noise, because there were no sounds of discontent or
quarrelling in it.  You see, the blacksmith and his wife trained that
family well.  It is wonderful what an amount of noise one can stand when
it is good-humoured noise.

Well, this blacksmith had a favourite maxim, which he was fond of
impressing on his children.  It was this--"Whatever your hand finds to
do, do it with all your might, doing it as if to the Lord, and not to
men."  We need hardly say that he found something like this maxim in the
Bible--a grand channel through which wisdom flows to man.

Of course he had some trouble in teaching his little ones, just as other
fathers have.  One evening, when speaking