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diff --git a/1948-0.txt b/1948-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c4222c --- /dev/null +++ b/1948-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6448 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Story of a Bad Boy, by Thomas Bailey Aldrich + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Story of a Bad Boy + +Author: Thomas Bailey Aldrich + +Release Date: February 25, 2006 [EBook #1948] +Last Updated: March 3, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF A BAD BOY *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + + + + + +THE STORY OF A BAD BOY + + +by Thomas Bailey Aldrich + + + + +Chapter One--In Which I Introduce Myself + + +This is the story of a bad boy. Well, not such a very bad, but a pretty +bad boy; and I ought to know, for I am, or rather I was, that boy +myself. + +Lest the title should mislead the reader, I hasten to assure him here +that I have no dark confessions to make. I call my story the story of +a bad boy, partly to distinguish myself from those faultless young +gentlemen who generally figure in narratives of this kind, and partly +because I really was not a cherub. I may truthfully say I was an +amiable, impulsive lad, blessed with fine digestive powers, and no +hypocrite. I didn't want to be an angel and with the angels stand; I +didn't think the missionary tracts presented to me by the Rev. Wibird +Hawkins were half so nice as Robinson Crusoe; and I didn't send my +little pocket-money to the natives of the Feejee Islands, but spent +it royally in peppermint-drops and taffy candy. In short, I was a real +human boy, such as you may meet anywhere in New England, and no more +like the impossible boy in a storybook than a sound orange is like one +that has been sucked dry. But let us begin at the beginning. + +Whenever a new scholar came to our school, I used to confront him at +recess with the following words: “My name's Tom Bailey; what's your +name?” If the name struck me favorably, I shook hands with the new +pupil cordially; but if it didn't, I would turn on my heel, for I was +particular on this point. Such names as Higgins, Wiggins, and Spriggins +were deadly affronts to my ear; while Langdon, Wallace, Blake, and the +like, were passwords to my confidence and esteem. + +Ah me! some of those dear fellows are rather elderly boys by this +time--lawyers, merchants, sea-captains, soldiers, authors, what not? Phil +Adams (a special good name that Adams) is consul at Shanghai, where I +picture him to myself with his head closely shaved--he never had too much +hair--and a long pigtail banging down behind. He is married, I hear; +and I hope he and she that was Miss Wang Wang are very happy together, +sitting cross-legged over their diminutive cups of tea in a skyblue +tower hung with bells. It is so I think of him; to me he is henceforth +a jewelled mandarin, talking nothing but broken China. Whitcomb is a +judge, sedate and wise, with spectacles balanced on the bridge of that +remarkable nose which, in former days, was so plentifully sprinkled with +freckles that the boys christened him Pepper Whitcomb. Just to think +of little Pepper Whitcomb being a judge! What would he do to me now, I +wonder, if I were to sing out “Pepper!” some day in court? Fred Langdon +is in California, in the native-wine business--he used to make the best +licorice-water I ever tasted! Binny Wallace sleeps in the Old South +Burying-Ground; and Jack Harris, too, is dead--Harris, who commanded us +boys, of old, in the famous snow-ball battles of Slatter's Hill. Was it +yesterday I saw him at the head of his regiment on its way to join the +shattered Army of the Potomac? Not yesterday, but six years ago. It was +at the battle of the Seven Pines. Gallant Jack Harris, that never drew +rein until he had dashed into the Rebel battery! So they found him--lying +across the enemy's guns. + +How we have parted, and wandered, and married, and died! I wonder what +has become of all the boys who went to the Temple Grammar School at +Rivermouth when I was a youngster? “All, all are gone, the old familiar +faces!” + +It is with no ungentle hand I summon them back, for a moment, from that +Past which has closed upon them and upon me. How pleasantly they live +again in my memory! Happy, magical Past, in whose fairy atmosphere even +Conway, mine ancient foe, stands forth transfigured, with a sort of +dreamy glory encircling his bright red hair! + +With the old school formula I commence these sketches of my boyhood. My +name is Tom Bailey; what is yours, gentle reader? I take for granted +it is neither Wiggins nor Spriggins, and that we shall get on famously +together, and be capital friends forever. + + + + +Chapter Two--In Which I Entertain Peculiar Views + + +I was born at Rivermouth, but, before I had a chance to become very well +acquainted with that pretty New England town, my parents removed to New +Orleans, where my father invested his money so securely in the banking +business that he was never able to get any of it out again. But of this +hereafter. + +I was only eighteen months old at the time of the removal, and it didn't +make much difference to me where I was, because I was so small; but +several years later, when my father proposed to take me North to be +educated, I had my own peculiar views on the subject. I instantly kicked +over the little Negro boy who happened to be standing by me at the +moment, and, stamping my foot violently on the floor of the piazza, +declared that I would not be taken away to live among a lot of Yankees! + +You see I was what is called “a Northern man with Southern principles.” + I had no recollection of New England: my earliest memories were +connected with the South, with Aunt Chloe, my old Negro nurse, and +with the great ill-kept garden in the centre of which stood our house--a +whitewashed stone house it was, with wide verandas--shut out from the +street by lines of orange, fig, and magnolia trees. I knew I was born +at the North, but hoped nobody would find it out. I looked upon the +misfortune as something so shrouded by time and distance that maybe +nobody remembered it. I never told my schoolmates I was a Yankee, +because they talked about the Yankees in such a scornful way it made +me feel that it was quite a disgrace not to be born in Louisiana, or at +least in one of the Border States. And this impression was strengthened +by Aunt Chloe, who said, “dar wasn't no gentl'men in the Norf no way,” + and on one occasion terrified me beyond measure by declaring that, +“if any of dem mean whites tried to git her away from marster, she was +jes'gwine to knock 'em on de head wid a gourd!” + +The way this poor creature's eyes flashed, and the tragic air with which +she struck at an imaginary “mean white,” are among the most vivid things +in my memory of those days. + +To be frank, my idea of the North was about as accurate as that +entertained by the well-educated Englishmen of the present day +concerning America. I supposed the inhabitants were divided into two +classes--Indians and white people; that the Indians occasionally dashed +down on New York, and scalped any woman or child (giving the preference +to children) whom they caught lingering in the outskirts after +nightfall; that the white men were either hunters or schoolmasters, and +that it was winter pretty much all the year round. The prevailing style +of architecture I took to be log-cabins. + +With this delightful picture of Northern civilization in my eye, the +reader will easily understand my terror at the bare thought of being +transported to Rivermouth to school, and possibly will forgive me for +kicking over little black Sam, and otherwise misconducting myself, when +my father announced his determination to me. As for kicking little Sam--I +always did that, more or less gently, when anything went wrong with me. + +My father was greatly perplexed and troubled by this unusually violent +outbreak, and especially by the real consternation which he saw written +in every line of my countenance. As little black Sam picked himself up, +my father took my hand in his and led me thoughtfully to the library. + +I can see him now as he leaned back in the bamboo chair and questioned +me. He appeared strangely agitated on learning the nature of my +objections to going North, and proceeded at once to knock down all my +pine log houses, and scatter all the Indian tribes with which I had +populated the greater portion of the Eastern and Middle States. + +“Who on earth, Tom, has filled your brain with such silly stories?” + asked my father, wiping the tears from his eyes. + +“Aunt Chloe, sir; she told me.” + +“And you really thought your grandfather wore a blanket embroidered with +beads, and ornamented his leggins with the scalps of his enemies?” + +“Well, sir, I didn't think that exactly.” + +“Didn't think that exactly? Tom, you will be the death of me.” + +He hid his face in his handkerchief, and, when he looked up, he seemed +to have been suffering acutely. I was deeply moved myself, though I did +not clearly understand what I had said or done to cause him to feel so +badly. Perhaps I had hurt his feelings by thinking it even possible that +Grandfather Nutter was an Indian warrior. + +My father devoted that evening and several subsequent evenings to giving +me a clear and succinct account of New England; its early struggles, its +progress, and its present condition--faint and confused glimmerings +of all which I had obtained at school, where history had never been a +favorite pursuit of mine. + +I was no longer unwilling to go North; on the contrary, the proposed +journey to a new world full of wonders kept me awake nights. I promised +myself all sorts of fun and adventures, though I was not entirely at +rest in my mind touching the savages, and secretly resolved to go on +board the ship--the journey was to be made by sea--with a certain little +brass pistol in my trousers-pocket, in case of any difficulty with the +tribes when we landed at Boston. + +I couldn't get the Indian out of my head. Only a short time previously +the Cherokees--or was it the Camanches?--had been removed from their +hunting-grounds in Arkansas; and in the wilds of the Southwest the red +men were still a source of terror to the border settlers. “Trouble +with the Indians” was the staple news from Florida published in the New +Orleans papers. We were constantly hearing of travellers being attacked +and murdered in the interior of that State. If these things were done in +Florida, why not in Massachusetts? + +Yet long before the sailing day arrived I was eager to be off. My +impatience was increased by the fact that my father had purchased for me +a fine little Mustang pony, and shipped it to Rivermouth a fortnight +previous to the date set for our own departure--for both my parents were +to accompany me. The pony (which nearly kicked me out of bed one night +in a dream), and my father's promise that he and my mother would come to +Rivermouth every other summer, completely resigned me to the situation. +The pony's name was Gitana, which is the Spanish for gypsy; so I always +called her--she was a lady pony--Gypsy. + +At length the time came to leave the vine-covered mansion among the +orange-trees, to say goodby to little black Sam (I am convinced he was +heartily glad to get rid of me), and to part with simple Aunt Chloe, +who, in the confusion of her grief, kissed an eyelash into my eye, and +then buried her face in the bright bandana turban which she had mounted +that morning in honor of our departure. + +I fancy them standing by the open garden gate; the tears are rolling +down Aunt Chloe's cheeks; Sam's six front teeth are glistening like +pearls; I wave my hand to him manfully then I call out “goodby” in a +muffled voice to Aunt Chloe; they and the old home fade away. I am never +to see them again! + + + + +Chapter Three--On Board the Typhoon + + +I do not remember much about the voyage to Boston, for after the first +few hours at sea I was dreadfully unwell. + +The name of our ship was the “A No. 1, fast-sailing packet Typhoon.” + I learned afterwards that she sailed fast only in the newspaper +advertisements. My father owned one quarter of the Typhoon, and that is +why we happened to go in her. I tried to guess which quarter of the ship +he owned, and finally concluded it must be the hind quarter--the cabin, +in which we had the cosiest of state-rooms, with one round window in the +roof, and two shelves or boxes nailed up against the wall to sleep in. + +There was a good deal of confusion on deck while we were getting under +way. The captain shouted orders (to which nobody seemed to pay any +attention) through a battered tin trumpet, and grew so red in the face +that he reminded me of a scooped-out pumpkin with a lighted candle +inside. He swore right and left at the sailors without the slightest +regard for their feelings. They didn't mind it a bit, however, but went +on singing-- + + “Heave ho! + With the rum below, + And hurrah for the Spanish Main O!” + +I will not be positive about “the Spanish Main,” but it was hurrah for +something O. I considered them very jolly fellows, and so indeed they +were. One weather-beaten tar in particular struck my fancy--a thick-set, +jovial man, about fifty years of age, with twinkling blue eyes and a +fringe of gray hair circling his head like a crown. As he took off his +tarpaulin I observed that the top of his head was quite smooth and flat, +as if somebody had sat down on him when he was very young. + +There was something noticeably hearty in this man's bronzed face, a +heartiness that seemed to extend to his loosely knotted neckerchief. But +what completely won my good-will was a picture of enviable loveliness +painted on his left arm. It was the head of a woman with the body of a +fish. Her flowing hair was of livid green, and she held a pink comb in +one hand. I never saw anything so beautiful. I determined to know that +man. I think I would have given my brass pistol to have had such a +picture painted on my arm. + +While I stood admiring this work of art, a fat wheezy steamtug, with +the word AJAX in staring black letters on the paddlebox, came puffing up +alongside the Typhoon. It was ridiculously small and conceited, compared +with our stately ship. I speculated as to what it was going to do. In a +few minutes we were lashed to the little monster, which gave a snort and +a shriek, and commenced backing us out from the levee (wharf) with the +greatest ease. + +I once saw an ant running away with a piece of cheese eight or ten times +larger than itself. I could not help thinking of it, when I found the +chubby, smoky-nosed tug-boat towing the Typhoon out into the Mississippi +River. + +In the middle of the stream we swung round, the current caught us, and +away we flew like a great winged bird. Only it didn't seem as if we were +moving. The shore, with the countless steamboats, the tangled rigging of +the ships, and the long lines of warehouses, appeared to be gliding away +from us. + +It was grand sport to stand on the quarter-deck and watch all this. +Before long there was nothing to be seen on other side but stretches of +low swampy land, covered with stunted cypress trees, from which drooped +delicate streamers of Spanish moss--a fine place for alligators and Congo +snakes. Here and there we passed a yellow sand-bar, and here and there a +snag lifted its nose out of the water like a shark. + +“This is your last chance to see the city, To see the city, Tom,” said +my father, as we swept round a bend of the river. + +I turned and looked. New Orleans was just a colorless mass of something +in the distance, and the dome of the St. Charles Hotel, upon which +the sun shimmered for a moment, was no bigger than the top of old Aunt +Chloe's thimble. + +What do I remember next? The gray sky and the fretful blue waters of the +Gulf. The steam-tug had long since let slip her hawsers and gone panting +away with a derisive scream, as much as to say, “I've done my duty, now +look out for yourself, old Typhoon!” + +The ship seemed quite proud of being left to take care of itself, and, +with its huge white sails bulged out, strutted off like a vain turkey. +I had been standing by my father near the wheel-house all this while, +observing things with that nicety of perception which belongs only +to children; but now the dew began falling, and we went below to have +supper. + +The fresh fruit and milk, and the slices of cold chicken, looked very +nice; yet somehow I had no appetite There was a general smell of tar +about everything. Then the ship gave sudden lurches that made it a +matter of uncertainty whether one was going to put his fork to his mouth +or into his eye. The tumblers and wineglasses, stuck in a rack over the +table, kept clinking and clinking; and the cabin lamp, suspended by four +gilt chains from the ceiling, swayed to and fro crazily. Now the floor +seemed to rise, and now it seemed to sink under one's feet like a +feather-bed. + +There were not more than a dozen passengers on board, including +ourselves; and all of these, excepting a bald-headed old gentleman--a +retired sea-captain--disappeared into their staterooms at an early hour +of the evening. + +After supper was cleared away, my father and the elderly gentleman, +whose name was Captain Truck, played at checkers; and I amused myself +for a while by watching the trouble they had in keeping the men in the +proper places. Just at the most exciting point of the game, the ship +would careen, and down would go the white checkers pell-mell among the +black. Then my father laughed, but Captain Truck would grow very angry, +and vow that he would have won the game in a move or two more, if +the confounded old chicken-coop--that's what he called the ship--hadn't +lurched. + +“I--I think I will go to bed now, please,” I said, laying my band on my +father's knee, and feeling exceedingly queer. + +It was high time, for the Typhoon was plunging about in the most +alarming fashion. I was speedily tucked away in the upper berth, where +I felt a trifle more easy at first. My clothes were placed on a narrow +shelf at my feet, and it was a great comfort to me to know that my +pistol was so handy, for I made no doubt we should fall in with +Pirates before many hours. This is the last thing I remember with any +distinctness. At midnight, as I was afterwards told, we were struck by +a gale which never left us until we came in sight of the Massachusetts +coast. + +For days and days I had no sensible idea of what was going on around me. +That we were being hurled somewhere upside-down, and that I didn't like +it, was about all I knew. I have, indeed, a vague impression that my +father used to climb up to the berth and call me his “Ancient Mariner,” + bidding me cheer up. But the Ancient Mariner was far from cheering up, +if I recollect rightly; and I don't believe that venerable navigator +would have cared much if it had been announced to him, through a +speaking-trumpet, that “a low, black, suspicious craft, with raking +masts, was rapidly bearing down upon us!” + +In fact, one morning, I thought that such was the case, for bang! went +the big cannon I had noticed in the bow of the ship when we came on +board, and which had suggested to me the idea of Pirates. Bang! went +the gun again in a few seconds. I made a feeble effort to get at my +trousers-pocket! But the Typhoon was only saluting Cape Cod--the +first land sighted by vessels approaching the coast from a southerly +direction. + +The vessel had ceased to roll, and my sea-sickness passed away as +rapidly as it came. I was all right now, “only a little shaky in my +timbers and a little blue about the gills,” as Captain Truck remarked to +my mother, who, like myself, had been confined to the state-room during +the passage. + +At Cape Cod the wind parted company with us without saying as much +as “Excuse me”; so we were nearly two days in making the run which in +favorable weather is usually accomplished in seven hours. That's what +the pilot said. + +I was able to go about the ship now, and I lost no time in cultivating +the acquaintance of the sailor with the green-haired lady on his arm. +I found him in the forecastle--a sort of cellar in the front part of the +vessel. He was an agreeable sailor, as I had expected, and we became the +best of friends in five minutes. + +He had been all over the world two or three times, and knew no end of +stories. According to his own account, he must have been shipwrecked +at least twice a year ever since his birth. He had served under Decatur +when that gallant officer peppered the Algerines and made them promise +not to sell their prisoners of war into slavery; he had worked a gun +at the bombardment of Vera Cruz in the Mexican War, and he had been on +Alexander Selkirk's Island more than once. There were very few things he +hadn't done in a seafaring way. + +“I suppose, sir,” I remarked, “that your name isn't Typhoon?” + +“Why, Lord love ye, lad, my name's Benjamin Watson, of Nantucket. But +I'm a true blue Typhooner,” he added, which increased my respect for +him; I don't know why, and I didn't know then whether Typhoon was the +name of a vegetable or a profession. + +Not wishing to be outdone in frankness, I disclosed to him that my name +was Tom Bailey, upon which he said he was very glad to hear it. + +When we got more intimate, I discovered that Sailor Ben, as he wished +me to call him, was a perfect walking picturebook. He had two anchors, a +star, and a frigate in full sail on his right arm; a pair of lovely blue +hands clasped on his breast, and I've no doubt that other parts of his +body were illustrated in the same agreeable manner. I imagine he was +fond of drawings, and took this means of gratifying his artistic taste. +It was certainly very ingenious and convenient. A portfolio might +be misplaced, or dropped overboard; but Sailor Ben had his pictures +wherever he went, just as that eminent person in the poem, + +“With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes”--was accompanied by +music on all occasions. + +The two bands on his breast, he informed me, were a tribute to the +memory of a dead messmate from whom he had parted years ago--and surely a +more touching tribute was never engraved on a tombstone. This caused me +to think of my parting with old Aunt Chloe, and I told him I should take +it as a great favor indeed if he would paint a pink hand and a black +hand on my chest. He said the colors were pricked into the skin with +needles, and that the operation was somewhat painful. I assured him, in +an off-hand manner, that I didn't mind pain, and begged him to set to +work at once. + +The simple-hearted fellow, who was probably not a little vain of his +skill, took me into the forecastle, and was on the point of complying +with my request, when my father happened to own the gangway--a +circumstance that rather interfered with the decorative art. + +I didn't have another opportunity of conferring alone with Sailor Ben, +for the next morning, bright and early, we came in sight of the cupola +of the Boston State House. + + + + +Chapter Four--Rivermouth + + +It was a beautiful May morning when the Typhoon hauled up at Long Wharf. +Whether the Indians were not early risers, or whether they were away +just then on a war-path, I couldn't determine; but they did not appear +in any great force--in fact, did not appear at all. + +In the remarkable geography which I never hurt myself with studying +at New Orleans, was a picture representing the landing of the Pilgrim +Fathers at Plymouth. The Pilgrim Fathers, in rather odd hats and coats, +are seen approaching the savages; the savages, in no coats or hats +to speak of, are evidently undecided whether to shake hands with the +Pilgrim Fathers or to make one grand rush and scalp the entire party. +Now this scene had so stamped itself on my mind, that, in spite of +all my father had said, I was prepared for some such greeting from +the aborigines. Nevertheless, I was not sorry to have my expectations +unfulfilled. By the way, speaking of the Pilgrim Fathers, I often used +to wonder why there was no mention made of the Pilgrim Mothers. + +While our trunks were being hoisted from the hold of the ship, I mounted +on the roof of the cabin, and took a critical view of Boston. As we came +up the harbor, I had noticed that the houses were huddled together on an +immense bill, at the top of which was a large building, the State House, +towering proudly above the rest, like an amiable mother-hen surrounded +by her brood of many-colored chickens. A closer inspection did not +impress me very favorably. The city was not nearly so imposing as New +Orleans, which stretches out for miles and miles, in the shape of a +crescent, along the banks of the majestic river. + +I soon grew tired of looking at the masses of houses, rising above one +another in irregular tiers, and was glad my father did not propose +to remain long in Boston. As I leaned over the rail in this mood, a +measly-looking little boy with no shoes said that if I would come down +on the wharf he'd lick me for two cents--not an exorbitant price. But I +didn't go down. I climbed into the rigging, and stared at him. This, as +I was rejoiced to observe, so exasperated him that he stood on his head +on a pile of boards, in order to pacify himself. + +The first train for Rivermouth left at noon. After a late breakfast +on board the Typhoon, our trunks were piled upon a baggage-wagon, and +ourselves stowed away in a coach, which must have turned at least one +hundred corners before it set us down at the railway station. + +In less time than it takes to tell it, we were shooting across the +country at a fearful rate--now clattering over a bridge, now screaming +through a tunnel; here we cut a flourishing village in two, like a +knife, and here we dived into the shadow of a pine forest. Sometimes +we glided along the edge of the ocean, and could see the sails of ships +twinkling like bits of silver against the horizon; sometimes we dashed +across rocky pasture-lands where stupid-eyed cattle were loafing. It was +fun to scare lazy-looking cows that lay round in groups under the newly +budded trees near the railroad track. + +We did not pause at any of the little brown stations on the route (they +looked just like overgrown black-walnut clocks), though at every one of +them a man popped out as if he were worked by machinery, and waved a red +flag, and appeared as though he would like to have us stop. But we were +an express train, and made no stoppages, excepting once or twice to give +the engine a drink. It is strange how the memory clings to some things. +It is over twenty years since I took that first ride to Rivermouth, +and yet, oddly enough, I remember as if it were yesterday, that, as we +passed slowly through the village of Hampton, we saw two boys fighting +behind a red barn. There was also a shaggy yellow dog, who looked as +if he had commenced to unravel, barking himself all up into a knot with +excitement. We had only a hurried glimpse of the battle--long enough, +however, to see that the combatants were equally matched and very much +in earnest. I am ashamed to say how many times since I have speculated +as to which boy got licked. Maybe both the small rascals are dead now +(not in consequence of the set-to, let us hope), or maybe they are +married, and have pugnacious urchins of their own; yet to this day I +sometimes find myself wondering how that fight turned out. + +We had been riding perhaps two hours and a half, when we shot by a tall +factory with a chimney resembling a church steeple; then the locomotive +gave a scream, the engineer rang his bell, and we plunged into the +twilight of a long wooden building, open at both ends. Here we stopped, +and the conductor, thrusting his head in at the car door, cried out, +“Passengers for Rivermouth!” + +At last we had reached our journey's end. On the platform my father +shook hands with a straight, brisk old gentleman whose face was very +serene and rosy. He had on a white hat and a long swallow-tailed coat, +the collar of which came clear up above his cars. He didn't look unlike +a Pilgrim Father. This, of course, was Grandfather Nutter, at whose +house I was born. My mother kissed him a great many times; and I was +glad to see him myself, though I naturally did not feel very intimate +with a person whom I had not seen since I was eighteen months old. + +While we were getting into the double-seated wagon which Grandfather +Nutter had provided, I took the opportunity of asking after the health +of the pony. The pony had arrived all right ten days before, and was in +the stable at home, quite anxious to see me. + +As we drove through the quiet old town, I thought Rivermouth the +prettiest place in the world; and I think so still. The streets are long +and wide, shaded by gigantic American elms, whose drooping branches, +interlacing here and there, span the avenues with arches graceful +enough to be the handiwork of fairies. Many of the houses have small +flower-gardens in front, gay in the season with china-asters, and are +substantially built, with massive chimney-stacks and protruding eaves. +A beautiful river goes rippling by the town, and, after turning and +twisting among a lot of tiny islands, empties itself into the sea. + +The harbor is so fine that the largest ships can sail directly up to +the wharves and drop anchor. Only they don't. Years ago it was a famous +seaport. Princely fortunes were made in the West India trade; and in +1812, when we were at war with Great Britain, any number of privateers +were fitted out at Rivermouth to prey upon the merchant vessels of the +enemy. Certain people grew suddenly and mysteriously rich. A great many +of “the first families” of today do not care to trace their pedigree +back to the time when their grandsires owned shares in the Matilda Jane, +twenty-four guns. Well, well! + +Few ships come to Rivermouth now. Commerce drifted into other ports. The +phantom fleet sailed off one day, and never came back again. The crazy +old warehouses are empty; and barnacles and eel-grass cling to the piles +of the crumbling wharves, where the sunshine lies lovingly, bringing +out the faint spicy odor that haunts the place--the ghost of the old dead +West India trade! During our ride from the station, I was struck, of +course, only by the general neatness of the houses and the beauty of +the elm-trees lining the streets. I describe Rivermouth now as I came to +know it afterwards. + +Rivermouth is a very ancient town. In my day there existed a tradition +among the boys that it was here Christopher Columbus made his first +landing on this continent. I remember having the exact spot pointed out +to me by Pepper Whitcomb! One thing is certain, Captain John Smith, who +afterwards, according to the legend, married Pocahontas--whereby he got +Powhatan for a father-in-law-explored the river in 1614, and was much +charmed by the beauty of Rivermouth, which at that time was covered with +wild strawberry-vines. + +Rivermouth figures prominently in all the colonial histories. Every +other house in the place has its tradition more or less grim and +entertaining. If ghosts could flourish anywhere, there are certain +streets in Rivermouth that would be full of them. I don't know of a town +with so many old houses. Let us linger, for a moment, in front of the +one which the Oldest Inhabitant is always sure to point out to the +curious stranger. + +It is a square wooden edifice, with gambrel roof and deep-set +window-frames. Over the windows and doors there used to be heavy +carvings--oak-leaves and acorns, and angels' heads with wings spreading +from the ears, oddly jumbled together; but these ornaments and other +outward signs of grandeur have long since disappeared. A peculiar +interest attaches itself to this house, not because of its age, for +it has not been standing quite a century; nor on account of its +architecture, which is not striking--but because of the illustrious men +who at various periods have occupied its spacious chambers. + +In 1770 it was an aristocratic hotel. At the left side of the entrance +stood a high post, from which swung the sign of the Earl of Halifax. The +landlord was a stanch loyalist--that is to say, he believed in the king, +and when the overtaxed colonies determined to throw off the British +yoke, the adherents to the Crown held private meetings in one of the +back rooms of the tavern. This irritated the rebels, as they were +called; and one night they made an attack on the Earl of Halifax, tore +down the signboard, broke in the window-sashes, and gave the landlord +hardly time to make himself invisible over a fence in the rear. + +For several months the shattered tavern remained deserted. At last the +exiled innkeeper, on promising to do better, was allowed to return; a +new sign, bearing the name of William Pitt, the friend of America, swung +proudly from the door-post, and the patriots were appeased. Here it was +that the mail-coach from Boston twice a week, for many a year, set +down its load of travelers and gossip. For some of the details in this +sketch, I am indebted to a recently published chronicle of those times. + +It is 1782. The French fleet is lying in the harbor of Rivermouth, and +eight of the principal officers, in white uniforms trimmed with gold +lace, have taken up their quarters at the sign of the William Pitt. Who +is this young and handsome officer now entering the door of the tavern? +It is no less a personage than the Marquis Lafayette, who has come all +the way from Providence to visit the French gentlemen boarding there. +What a gallant-looking cavalier he is, with his quick eyes and coal +black hair! Forty years later he visited the spot again; his locks were +gray and his step was feeble, but his heart held its young love for +Liberty. + +Who is this finely dressed traveler alighting from his coach-and-four, +attended by servants in livery? Do you know that sounding name, written +in big valorous letters on the Declaration of Independence--written as +if by the hand of a giant? Can you not see it now? JOHN HANCOCK. This is +he. + +Three young men, with their valet, are standing on the doorstep of the +William Pitt, bowing politely, and inquiring in the most courteous terms +in the world if they can be accommodated. It is the time of the French +Revolution, and these are three sons of the Duke of Orleans--Louis +Philippe and his two brothers. Louis Philippe never forgot his visit +to Rivermouth. Years afterwards, when he was seated on the throne of +France, he asked an American lady, who chanced to be at his court, if +the pleasant old mansion were still standing. + +But a greater and a better man than the king of the French has honored +this roof. Here, in 1789, came George Washington, the President of +the United States, to pay his final complimentary visit to the State +dignitaries. The wainscoted chamber where he slept, and the dining-hall +where he entertained his guests, have a certain dignity and sanctity +which even the present Irish tenants cannot wholly destroy. + +During the period of my reign at Rivermouth, an ancient lady, Dame +Jocelyn by name, lived in one of the upper rooms of this notable +building. She was a dashing young belle at the time of Washington's +first visit to the town, and must have been exceedingly coquettish and +pretty, judging from a certain portrait on ivory still in the possession +of the family. According to Dame Jocelyn, George Washington flirted with +her just a little bit--in what a stately and highly finished manner can +be imagined. + +There was a mirror with a deep filigreed frame hanging over the +mantel-piece in this room. The glass was cracked and the quicksilver +rubbed off or discolored in many places. When it reflected your face +you had the singular pleasure of not recognizing yourself. It gave your +features the appearance of having been run through a mince-meat machine. +But what rendered the looking-glass a thing of enchantment to me was a +faded green feather, tipped with scarlet, which drooped from the top +of the tarnished gilt mouldings. This feather Washington took from the +plume of his three-cornered hat, and presented with his own hand to the +worshipful Mistress Jocelyn the day he left Rivermouth forever. I wish +I could describe the mincing genteel air, and the ill-concealed +self-complacency, with which the dear old lady related the incident. + +Many a Saturday afternoon have I climbed up the rickety staircase to +that dingy room, which always had a flavor of snuff about it, to sit +on a stiff-backed chair and listen for hours together to Dame Jocelyn's +stories of the olden time. How she would prattle! She was bedridden--poor +creature!--and had not been out of the chamber for fourteen years. +Meanwhile the world had shot ahead of Dame Jocelyn. The changes that had +taken place under her very nose were unknown to this faded, crooning old +gentlewoman, whom the eighteenth century had neglected to take away with +the rest of its odd traps. She had no patience with newfangled notions. +The old ways and the old times were good enough for her. She had never +seen a steam engine, though she had heard “the dratted thing” screech in +the distance. In her day, when gentlefolk traveled, they went in +their own coaches. She didn't see how respectable people could bring +themselves down to “riding in a car with rag-tag and bobtail and +Lord-knows-who.” Poor old aristocrat The landlord charged her no rent +for the room, and the neighbors took turns in supplying her with meals. +Towards the close of her life--she lived to be ninety-nine--she grew very +fretful and capricious about her food. If she didn't chance to fancy +what was sent her, she had no hesitation in sending it back to the giver +with “Miss Jocelyn's respectful compliments.” + +But I have been gossiping too long--and yet not too long if I have +impressed upon the reader an idea of what a rusty, delightful old town +it was to which I had come to spend the next three or four years of my +boyhood. + +A drive of twenty minutes from the station brought us to the door-step +of Grandfather Nutter's house. What kind of house it was, and what sort +of people lived in it, shall be told in another chapter. + + + + +Chapter Five--The Nutter House and the Nutter Family + + +The Nutter House--all the more prominent dwellings in Rivermouth are +named after somebody; for instance, there is the Walford House, the +Venner House, the Trefethen House, etc., though it by no means follows +that they are inhabited by the people whose names they bear--the Nutter +House, to resume, has been in our family nearly a hundred years, and +is an honor to the builder (an ancestor of ours, I believe), supposing +durability to be a merit. If our ancestor was a carpenter, he knew his +trade. I wish I knew mine as well. Such timber and such workmanship +don't often come together in houses built nowadays. + +Imagine a low-studded structure, with a wide hall running through the +middle. At your right band, as you enter, stands a tall black mahogany +clock, looking like an Egyptian mummy set up on end. On each side of +the hall are doors (whose knobs, it must be confessed, do not turn very +easily), opening into large rooms wainscoted and rich in wood-carvings +about the mantel-pieces and cornices. The walls are covered with +pictured paper, representing landscapes and sea-views. In the parlor, +for example, this enlivening figure is repeated all over the room. A +group of English peasants, wearing Italian hats, are dancing on a lawn +that abruptly resolves itself into a sea-beach, upon which stands a +flabby fisherman (nationality unknown), quietly hauling in what appears +to be a small whale, and totally regardless of the dreadful naval combat +going on just beyond the end of his fishing-rod. On the other side of +the ships is the main-land again, with the same peasants dancing. +Our ancestors were very worthy people, but their wall-papers were +abominable. + +There are neither grates nor stoves in these quaint chambers, but +splendid open chimney-places, with room enough for the corpulent +back-log to turn over comfortably on the polished andirons. A wide +staircase leads from the hall to the second story, which is arranged +much like the first. Over this is the garret. I needn't tell a +New England boy what--a museum of curiosities is the garret of a +well-regulated New England house of fifty or sixty years' standing. +Here meet together, as if by some preconcerted arrangement, all the +broken-down chairs of the household, all the spavined tables, all +the seedy hats, all the intoxicated-looking boots, all the split +walking-sticks that have retired from business, “weary with the march of +life.” The pots, the pans, the trunks, the bottles--who may hope to +make an inventory of the numberless odds and ends collected in this +bewildering lumber-room? But what a place it is to sit of an afternoon +with the rain pattering on the roof! What a place in which to read +Gulliver's Travels, or the famous adventures of Rinaldo Rinaldini! + +My grandfather's house stood a little back from the main street, in +the shadow of two handsome elms, whose overgrown boughs would dash +themselves against the gables whenever the wind blew hard. In the rear +was a pleasant garden, covering perhaps a quarter of an acre, full of +plum-trees and gooseberry bushes. These trees were old settlers, and are +all dead now, excepting one, which bears a purple plum as big as an egg. +This tree, as I remark, is still standing, and a more beautiful tree +to tumble out of never grew anywhere. In the northwestern corner of the +garden were the stables and carriage-house opening upon a narrow lane. +You may imagine that I made an early visit to that locality to inspect +Gypsy. Indeed, I paid her a visit every half-hour during the first day +of my arrival. At the twenty-fourth visit she trod on my foot rather +heavily, as a reminder, probably, that I was wearing out my welcome. She +was a knowing little pony, that Gypsy, and I shall have much to say of +her in the course of these pages. + +Gypsy's quarters were all that could be wished, but nothing among my new +surroundings gave me more satisfaction than the cosey sleeping apartment +that had been prepared for myself. It was the hall room over the front +door. + +I had never had a chamber all to myself before, and this one, about +twice the size of our state-room on board the Typhoon, was a marvel of +neatness and comfort. Pretty chintz curtains hung at the window, and a +patch quilt of more colors than were in Joseph's coat covered the little +truckle-bed. The pattern of the wall-paper left nothing to be desired in +that line. On a gray background were small bunches of leaves, unlike +any that ever grew in this world; and on every other bunch perched a +yellow-bird, pitted with crimson spots, as if it had just recovered from +a severe attack of the small-pox. That no such bird ever existed did +not detract from my admiration of each one. There were two hundred and +sixty-eight of these birds in all, not counting those split in two where +the paper was badly joined. I counted them once when I was laid up with +a fine black eye, and falling asleep immediately dreamed that the whole +flock suddenly took wing and flew out of the window. From that time I +was never able to regard them as merely inanimate objects. + +A wash-stand in the corner, a chest of carved mahogany drawers, a +looking-glass in a filigreed frame, and a high-backed chair studded with +brass nails like a coffin, constituted the furniture. Over the head of +the bed were two oak shelves, holding perhaps a dozen books--among which +were Theodore, or The Peruvians; Robinson Crusoe; an odd volume of +Tristram Shandy; Baxter's Saints' Rest, and a fine English edition of +the Arabian Nights, with six hundred wood-cuts by Harvey. + +Shall I ever forget the hour when I first overhauled these books? I do +not allude especially to Baxter's Saints' Rest, which is far from being +a lively work for the young, but to the Arabian Nights, and particularly +Robinson Crusoe. The thrill that ran into my fingers' ends then has not +run out yet. Many a time did I steal up to this nest of a room, +and, taking the dog's-eared volume from its shelf, glide off into an +enchanted realm, where there were no lessons to get and no boys to +smash my kite. In a lidless trunk in the garret I subsequently unearthed +another motley collection of novels and romances, embracing the +adventures of Baron Trenck, Jack Sheppard, Don Quixote, Gil Blas, and +Charlotte Temple--all of which I fed upon like a bookworm. + +I never come across a copy of any of those works without feeling a +certain tenderness for the yellow-haired little rascal who used to lean +above the magic pages hour after hour, religiously believing every word +he read, and no more doubting the reality of Sindbad the Sailor, or the +Knight of the Sorrowful Countenance, than he did the existence of his +own grandfather. + +Against the wall at the foot of the bed hung a single-barrel +shot-gun--placed there by Grandfather Nutter, who knew what a boy +loved, if ever a grandfather did. As the trigger of the gun had been +accidentally twisted off, it was not, perhaps, the most dangerous weapon +that could be placed in the hands of youth. In this maimed condition +its “bump of destructiveness” was much less than that of my small brass +pocket-pistol, which I at once proceeded to suspend from one of the +nails supporting the fowling-piece, for my vagaries concerning the red +man had been entirely dispelled. + +Having introduced the reader to the Nutter House, a presentation to the +Nutter family naturally follows. The family consisted of my +grandfather; his sister, Miss Abigail Nutter; and Kitty Collins, the +maid-of-all-work. + +Grandfather Nutter was a hale, cheery old gentleman, as straight and as +bald as an arrow. He had been a sailor in early life; that is to say, at +the age of ten years he fled from the multiplication-table, and ran away +to sea. A single voyage satisfied him. There never was but one of our +family who didn't run away to sea, and this one died at his birth. My +grandfather had also been a soldier--a captain of militia in 1812. If I +owe the British nation anything, I owe thanks to that particular British +soldier who put a musket-ball into the fleshy part of Captain Nutter's +leg, causing that noble warrior a slight permanent limp, but offsetting +the injury by furnishing him with the material for a story which the old +gentleman was never weary of telling and I never weary of listening to. +The story, in brief, was as follows. + +At the breaking out of the war, an English frigate lay for several days +off the coast near Rivermouth. A strong fort defended the harbor, and a +regiment of minute-men, scattered at various points along-shore, stood +ready to repel the boats, should the enemy try to effect a landing. +Captain Nutter had charge of a slight earthwork just outside the mouth +of the river. Late one thick night the sound of oars was heard; the +sentinel tried to fire off his gun at half-cock, and couldn't, when +Captain Nutter sprung upon the parapet in the pitch darkness, and +shouted, “Boat ahoyl” A musket-shot immediately embedded itself in the +calf of his leg. The Captain tumbled into the fort and the boat, which +had probably come in search of water, pulled back to the frigate. + +This was my grandfather's only exploit during the war. That his prompt +and bold conduct was instrumental in teaching the enemy the hopelessness +of attempting to conquer such a people was among the firm beliefs of my +boyhood. + +At the time I came to Rivermouth my grandfather had retired from active +pursuits, and was living at ease on his money, invested principally +in shipping. He had been a widower many years; a maiden sister, the +aforesaid Miss Abigail, managing his household. Miss Abigail also +managed her brother, and her brother's servant, and the visitor at her +brother's gate--not in a tyrannical spirit, but from a philanthropic +desire to be useful to everybody. In person she was tall and angular; +she had a gray complexion, gray eyes, gray eyebrows, and generally wore +a gray dress. Her strongest weak point was a belief in the efficacy of +“hot-drops” as a cure for all known diseases. + +If there were ever two people who seemed to dislike each other, Miss +Abigail and Kitty Collins were those people. If ever two people really +loved each other, Miss Abigail and Kitty Collins were those people also. +They were always either skirmishing or having a cup of tea lovingly +together. + +Miss Abigail was very fond of me, and so was Kitty; and in the course of +their disagreements each let me into the private history of the other. + +According to Kitty, it was not originally my grandfather's intention +to have Miss Abigail at the head of his domestic establishment. She had +swooped down on him (Kitty's own words), with a band-box in one hand and +a faded blue cotton umbrella, still in existence, in the other. Clad +in this singular garb--I do not remember that Kitty alluded to--any +additional peculiarity of dress--Miss Abigail had made her appearance at +the door of the Nutter House on the morning of my grandmother's funeral. +The small amount of baggage which the lady brought with her would have +led the superficial observer to infer that Miss Abigail's visit was +limited to a few days. I run ahead of my story in saying she remained +seventeen years! How much longer she would have remained can never be +definitely known now, as she died at the expiration of that period. + +Whether or not my grandfather was quite pleased by this unlooked-for +addition to his family is a problem. He was very kind always to Miss +Abigail, and seldom opposed her; though I think she must have tried his +patience sometimes, especially when she interfered with Kitty. + +Kitty Collins, or Mrs. Catherine, as she preferred to be called, +was descended in a direct line from an extensive family of kings who +formerly ruled over Ireland. In consequence of various calamities, +among which the failure of the potato-crop may be mentioned, Miss +Kitty Collins, in company with several hundred of her countrymen and +countrywomen--also descended from kings--came over to America in an +emigrant ship, in the year eighteen hundred and something. + +I don't know what freak of fortune caused the royal exile to turn up +at Rivermouth; but turn up she did, a few months after arriving in this +country, and was hired by my grandmother to do “general housework” for +the sum of four shillings and six-pence a week. + +Kitty had been living about seven years in my grandfather's family when +she unburdened her heart of a secret which had been weighing upon it all +that time. It may be said of people, as it is said of nations, “Happy +are they that have no history.” Kitty had a history, and a pathetic one, +I think. + +On board the emigrant ship that brought her to America, she became +acquainted with a sailor, who, being touched by Kitty's forlorn +condition, was very good to her. Long before the end of the voyage, +which had been tedious and perilous, she was heartbroken at the thought +of separating from her kindly protector; but they were not to part just +yet, for the sailor returned Kitty's affection, and the two were married +on their arrival at port. Kitty's husband--she would never mention his +name, but kept it locked in her bosom like some precious relic--had a +considerable sum of money when the crew were paid off; and the young +couple--for Kitty was young then--lived very happily in a lodging-house on +South Street, near the docks. This was in New York. + +The days flew by like hours, and the stocking in which the little bride +kept the funds shrunk and shrunk, until at last there were only three +or four dollars left in the toe of it. Then Kitty was troubled; for +she knew her sailor would have to go to sea again unless he could +get employment on shore. This he endeavored to do, but not with much +success. One morning as usual he kissed her good day, and set out in +search of work. + +“Kissed me goodby, and called me his little Irish lass,” sobbed Kitty, +telling the story, “kissed me goodby, and, Heaven help me, I niver set +oi on him nor on the likes of him again!” + +He never came back. Day after day dragged on, night after night, and +then the weary weeks. What had become of him? Had he been murdered? Had +he fallen into the docks? Had he--deserted her? No! She could not believe +that; he was too brave and tender and true. She couldn't believe that. +He was dead, dead, or he'd come back to her. + +Meanwhile the landlord of the lodging-house turned Kitty into the +streets, now that “her man” was gone, and the payment of the rent +doubtful. She got a place as a servant. The family she lived with +shortly moved to Boston, and she accompanied them; then they went +abroad, but Kitty would not leave America. Somehow she drifted to +Rivermouth, and for seven long years never gave speech to her sorrow, +until the kindness of strangers, who had become friends to her, unsealed +the heroic lips. + +Kitty's story, you may be sure, made my grandparents treat her more +kindly than ever. In time she grew to be regarded less as a servant than +as a friend in the home circle, sharing its joys and sorrows--a faithful +nurse, a willing slave, a happy spirit in spite of all. I fancy I hear +her singing over her work in the kitchen, pausing from time to time to +make some witty reply to Miss Abigail--for Kitty, like all her race, had +a vein of unconscious humor. Her bright honest face comes to me out from +the past, the light and life of the Nutter House when I was a boy at +Rivermouth. + + + + +Chapter Six--Lights and Shadows + + +The first shadow that fell upon me in my new home was caused by the +return of my parents to New Orleans. Their visit was cut short by +business which required my father's presence in Natchez, where he was +establishing a branch of the bankinghouse. When they had gone, a sense +of loneliness such as I had never dreamed of filled my young breast. +I crept away to the stable, and, throwing my arms about Gypsy's neck, +sobbed aloud. She too had come from the sunny South, and was now a +stranger in a strange land. + +The little mare seemed to realize our situation, and gave me all the +sympathy I could ask, repeatedly rubbing her soft nose over my face and +lapping up my salt tears with evident relish. + +When night came, I felt still more lonesome. My grandfather sat in +his arm-chair the greater part of the evening, reading the Rivermouth +Bamacle, the local newspaper. There was no gas in those days, and the +Captain read by the aid of a small block-tin lamp, which he held in one +hand. I observed that he had a habit of dropping off into a doze every +three or four minutes, and I forgot my homesickness at intervals in +watching him. Two or three times, to my vast amusement, he scorched the +edges of the newspaper with the wick of the lamp; and at about half +past eight o'clock I had the satisfactions--I am sorry to confess it was a +satisfaction--of seeing the Rivermouth Barnacle in flames. + +My grandfather leisurely extinguished the fire with his hands, and Miss +Abigail, who sat near a low table, knitting by the light of an astral +lamp, did not even look up. She was quite used to this catastrophe. + +There was little or no conversation during the evening. In fact, I do +not remember that anyone spoke at all, excepting once, when the Captain +remarked, in a meditative manner, that my parents “must have reached New +York by this time”; at which supposition I nearly strangled myself in +attempting to intercept a sob. + +The monotonous “click click” of Miss Abigail's needles made me nervous +after a while, and finally drove me out of the sitting-room into the +kitchen, where Kitty caused me to laugh by saying Miss Abigail thought +that what I needed was “a good dose of hot-drops,” a remedy she was +forever ready to administer in all emergencies. If a boy broke his +leg, or lost his mother, I believe Miss Abigail would have given him +hot-drops. + +Kitty laid herself out to be entertaining. She told me several funny +Irish stories, and described some of the odd people living in the town; +but, in the midst of her comicalities, the tears would involuntarily +ooze out of my eyes, though I was not a lad much addicted to weeping. +Then Kitty would put her arms around me, and tell me not to mind it--that +it wasn't as if I had been left alone in a foreign land with no one to +care for me, like a poor girl whom she had once known. I brightened up +before long, and told Kitty all about the Typhoon and the old seaman, +whose name I tried in vain to recall, and was obliged to fall back on +plain Sailor Ben. + +I was glad when ten o'clock came, the bedtime for young folks, and old +folks too, at the Nutter House. Alone in the hallchamber I had my cry +out, once for all, moistening the pillow to such an extent that I was +obliged to turn it over to find a dry spot to go to sleep on. + +My grandfather wisely concluded to put me to school at once. If I had +been permitted to go mooning about the house and stables, I should have +kept my discontent alive for months. The next morning, accordingly, he +took me by the hand, and we set forth for the academy, which was located +at the farther end of the town. + +The Temple School was a two-story brick building, standing in the centre +of a great square piece of land, surrounded by a high picket fence. +There were three or four sickly trees, but no grass, in this enclosure, +which had been worn smooth and hard by the tread of multitudinous feet. +I noticed here and there small holes scooped in the ground, indicating +that it was the season for marbles. A better playground for baseball +couldn't have been devised. + +On reaching the schoolhouse door, the Captain inquired for Mr. Grimshaw. +The boy who answered our knock ushered us into a side-room, and in a +few minutes--during which my eye took in forty-two caps hung on forty-two +wooden pegs--Mr. Grimshaw made his appearance. He was a slender man, with +white, fragile hands, and eyes that glanced half a dozen different ways +at once--a habit probably acquired from watching the boys. + +After a brief consultation, my grandfather patted me on the head and +left me in charge of this gentleman, who seated himself in front of +me and proceeded to sound the depth, or, more properly speaking, the +shallowness, of my attainments. I suspect my historical information +rather startled him. I recollect I gave him to understand that Richard +III was the last king of England. + +This ordeal over, Mr. Grimshaw rose and bade me follow him. A door +opened, and I stood in the blaze of forty-two pairs of upturned eyes. +I was a cool hand for my age, but I lacked the boldness to face this +battery without wincing. In a sort of dazed way I stumbled after Mr. +Grimshaw down a narrow aisle between two rows of desks, and shyly took +the seat pointed out to me. + +The faint buzz that had floated over the school-room at our entrance +died away, and the interrupted lessons were resumed. By degrees I +recovered my coolness, and ventured to look around me. + +The owners of the forty-two caps were seated at small green desks like +the one assigned to me. The desks were arranged in six rows, with spaces +between just wide enough to prevent the boys' whispering. A blackboard +set into the wall extended clear across the end of the room; on a raised +platform near the door stood the master's table; and directly in front +of this was a recitation-bench capable of seating fifteen or twenty +pupils. A pair of globes, tattooed with dragons and winged horses, +occupied a shelf between two windows, which were so high from the floor +that nothing but a giraffe could have looked out of them. + +Having possessed myself of these details, I scrutinized my new +acquaintances with unconcealed curiosity, instinctively selecting my +friends and picking out my enemies--and in only two cases did I mistake +my man. + +A sallow boy with bright red hair, sitting in the fourth row, shook +his fist at me furtively several times during the morning. I had a +presentiment I should have trouble with that boy some day--a presentiment +subsequently realized. + +On my left was a chubby little fellow with a great many freckles (this +was Pepper Whitcomb), who made some mysterious motions to me. I didn't +understand them, but, as they were clearly of a pacific nature, I winked +my eye at him. This appeared to be satisfactory, for he then went on +with his studies. At recess he gave me the core of his apple, though +there were several applicants for it. + +Presently a boy in a loose olive-green jacket with two rows of brass +buttons held up a folded paper behind his slate, intimating that it was +intended for me. The paper was passed skillfully from desk to desk until +it reached my hands. On opening the scrap, I found that it contained +a small piece of molasses candy in an extremely humid state. This was +certainly kind. I nodded my acknowledgments and hastily slipped the +delicacy into my mouth. In a second I felt my tongue grow red-hot with +cayenne pepper. + +My face must have assumed a comical expression, for the boy in the +olive-green jacket gave an hysterical laugh, for which he was instantly +punished by Mr. Grimshaw. I swallowed the fiery candy, though it brought +the water to my eyes, and managed to look so unconcerned that I was +the only pupil in the form who escaped questioning as to the cause of +Marden's misdemeanor. C. Marden was his name. + +Nothing else occurred that morning to interrupt the exercises, excepting +that a boy in the reading class threw us all into convulsions by calling +Absalom A-bol'-som “Abolsom, O my son Abolsom!” I laughed as loud as +anyone, but I am not so sure that I shouldn't have pronounced it Abolsom +myself. + +At recess several of the scholars came to my desk and shook hands with +me, Mr. Grimshaw having previously introduced me to Phil Adams, charging +him to see that I got into no trouble. My new acquaintances suggested +that we should go to the playground. We were no sooner out-of-doors than +the boy with the red hair thrust his way through the crowd and placed +himself at my side. + +“I say, youngster, if you're comin' to this school you've got to toe the +mark.” + +I didn't see any mark to toe, and didn't understand what he meant; but I +replied politely, that, if it was the custom of the school, I should be +happy to toe the mark, if he would point it out to me. + +“I don't want any of your sarse,” said the boy, scowling. + +“Look here, Conway!” cried a clear voice from the other side of the +playground. “You let young Bailey alone. He's a stranger here, and might +be afraid of you, and thrash you. Why do you always throw yourself in +the way of getting thrashed?” + +I turned to the speaker, who by this time had reached the spot where we +stood. Conway slunk off, favoring me with a parting scowl of defiance. +I gave my hand to the boy who had befriended me--his name was Jack +Harris--and thanked him for his good-will. + +“I tell you what it is, Bailey,” he said, returning my pressure +good-naturedly, “you'll have to fight Conway before the quarter ends, +or you'll have no rest. That fellow is always hankering after a licking, +and of course you'll give him one by and by; but what's the use of +hurrying up an unpleasant job? Let's have some baseball. By the way, +Bailey, you were a good kid not to let on to Grimshaw about the candy. +Charley Marden would have caught it twice as heavy. He's sorry he played +the joke on you, and told me to tell you so. Hallo, Blake! Where are the +bats?” + +This was addressed to a handsome, frank-looking lad of about my own age, +who was engaged just then in cutting his initials on the bark of a tree +near the schoolhouse. Blake shut up his penknife and went off to get the +bats. + +During the game which ensued I made the acquaintance of Charley Marden, +Binny Wallace, Pepper Whitcomb, Harry Blake, and Fred Langdon. These +boys, none of them more than a year or two older than I (Binny Wallace +was younger), were ever after my chosen comrades. Phil Adams and Jack +Harris were considerably our seniors, and, though they always treated +us “kids” very kindly, they generally went with another set. Of course, +before long I knew all the Temple boys more or less intimately, but the +five I have named were my constant companions. + +My first day at the Temple Grammar School was on the whole satisfactory. +I had made several warm friends and only two permanent enemies--Conway +and his echo, Seth Rodgers; for these two always went together like a +deranged stomach and a headache. + +Before the end of the week I had my studies well in hand. I was a +little ashamed at finding myself at the foot of the various classes, and +secretly determined to deserve promotion. The school was an admirable +one. I might make this part of my story more entertaining by picturing +Mr. Grimshaw as a tyrant with a red nose and a large stick; but +unfortunately for the purposes of sensational narrative, Mr. Grimshaw +was a quiet, kindhearted gentleman. Though a rigid disciplinarian, he +had a keen sense of justice, was a good reader of character, and the +boys respected him. There were two other teachers--a French tutor and a +writing-master, who visited the school twice a week. On Wednesdays and +Saturdays we were dismissed at noon, and these half-holidays were the +brightest epochs of my existence. + +Daily contact with boys who had not been brought up as gently as I +worked an immediate, and, in some respects, a beneficial change in my +character. I had the nonsense taken out of me, as the saying is--some +of the nonsense, at least. I became more manly and self-reliant. I +discovered that the world was not created exclusively on my account. +In New Orleans I labored under the delusion that it was. Having neither +brother nor sister to give up to at home, and being, moreover, the +largest pupil at school there, my will had seldom been opposed. At +Rivermouth matters were different, and I was not long in adapting myself +to the altered circumstances. Of course I got many severe rubs, often +unconsciously given; but I had the sense to see that I was all the +better for them. + +My social relations with my new schoolfellows were the pleasantest +possible. There was always some exciting excursion on foot--a ramble +through the pine woods, a visit to the Devil's Pulpit, a high cliff +in the neighborhood--or a surreptitious low on the river, involving +an exploration of a group of diminutive islands, upon one of which we +pitched a tent and played we were the Spanish sailors who got wrecked +there years ago. But the endless pine forest that skirted the town was +our favorite haunt. There was a great green pond hidden somewhere in its +depths, inhabited by a monstrous colony of turtles. Harry Blake, who +had an eccentric passion for carving his name on everything, never let +a captured turtle slip through his fingers without leaving his mark +engraved on its shell. He must have lettered about two thousand from +first to last. We used to call them Harry Blake's sheep. + +These turtles were of a discontented and migratory turn of mind, and we +frequently encountered two or three of them on the cross-roads several +miles from their ancestral mud. Unspeakable was our delight whenever we +discovered one soberly walking off with Harry Blake's initials! I've +no doubt there are, at this moment, fat ancient turtles wandering about +that gummy woodland with H.B. neatly cut on their venerable backs. + +It soon became a custom among my playmates to make our barn their +rendezvous. Gypsy proved a strong attraction. Captain Nutter bought me a +little two-wheeled cart, which she drew quite nicely, after kicking out +the dasher and breaking the shafts once or twice. With our lunch-baskets +and fishing-tackle stowed away under the seat, we used to start off +early in the afternoon for the sea-shore, where there were countless +marvels in the shape of shells, mosses, and kelp. Gypsy enjoyed the +sport as keenly as any of us, even going so far, one day, as to trot +down the beach into the sea where we were bathing. As she took the cart +with her, our provisions were not much improved. I shall never forget +how squash-pie tastes after being soused in the Atlantic Ocean. +Soda-crackers dipped in salt water are palatable, but not squash-pie. + +There was a good deal of wet weather during those first six weeks at +Rivermouth, and we set ourselves at work to find some indoor amusement +for our half-holidays. It was all very well for Amadis de Gaul and Don +Quixote not to mind the rain; they had iron overcoats, and were not, +from all we can learn, subject to croup and the guidance of their +grandfathers. Our case was different. + +“Now, boys, what shall we do?” I asked, addressing a thoughtful conclave +of seven, assembled in our barn one dismal rainy afternoon. + +“Let's have a theatre,” suggested Binny Wallace. + +The very thing! But where? The loft of the stable was ready to burst +with hay provided for Gypsy, but the long room over the carriage-house +was unoccupied. The place of all places! My managerial eye saw at a +glance its capabilities for a theatre. I had been to the play a great +many times in New Orleans, and was wise in matters pertaining to the +drama. So here, in due time, was set up some extraordinary scenery of my +own painting. The curtain, I recollect, though it worked smoothly enough +on other occasions, invariably hitched during the performances; and it +often required the united energies of the Prince of Denmark, the King, +and the Grave-digger, with an occasional band from “the fair Ophelia” + (Pepper Whitcomb in a low-necked dress), to hoist that bit of green +cambric. + +The theatre, however, was a success, as far as it went. I retired from +the business with no fewer than fifteen hundred pins, after deducting +the headless, the pointless, and the crooked pins with which our +doorkeeper frequently got “stuck.” From first to last we took in a +great deal of this counterfeit money. The price of admission to the +“Rivermouth Theatre” was twenty pins. I played all the principal parts +myself--not that I was a finer actor than the other boys, but because I +owned the establishment. + +At the tenth representation, my dramatic career was brought to a close +by an unfortunate circumstance. We were playing the drama of “William +Tell, the Hero of Switzerland.” Of course I was William Tell, in spite +of Fred Langdon, who wanted to act that character himself. I wouldn't +let him, so he withdrew from the company, taking the only bow and arrow +we had. I made a cross-bow out of a piece of whalebone, and did very +well without him. We had reached that exciting scene where Gessler, the +Austrian tyrant, commands Tell to shoot the apple from his son's head. +Pepper Whitcomb, who played all the juvenile and women parts, was my +son. To guard against mischance, a piece of pasteboard was fastened by a +handkerchief over the upper portion of Whitcomb's face, while the arrow +to be used was sewed up in a strip of flannel. I was a capital marksman, +and the big apple, only two yards distant, turned its russet cheek +fairly towards me. + +I can see poor little Pepper now, as he stood without flinching, +waiting for me to perform my great feat. I raised the crossbow amid the +breathless silence of the crowded audience consisting of seven boys and +three girls, exclusive of Kitty Collins, who insisted on paying her way +in with a clothes-pin. I raised the cross-bow, I repeat. Twang! went the +whipcord; but, alas! instead of hitting the apple, the arrow flew right +into Pepper Whitcomb's mouth, which happened to be open at the time, and +destroyed my aim. + +I shall never be able to banish that awful moment from my memory. +Pepper's roar, expressive of astonishment, indignation, and pain, is +still ringing in my cars. I looked upon him as a corpse, and, glancing +not far into the dreary future, pictured myself led forth to execution +in the presence of the very same spectators then assembled. + +Luckily poor Pepper was not seriously hurt; but Grandfather Nutter, +appearing in the midst of the confusion (attracted by the howls of young +Tell), issued an injunction against all theatricals thereafter, and the +place was closed; not, however, without a farewell speech from me, in +which I said that this would have been the proudest moment of my life +if I hadn't hit Pepper Whitcomb in the mouth. Whereupon the audience +(assisted, I am glad to state, by Pepper) cried “Hear! Hear!” I then +attributed the accident to Pepper himself, whose mouth, being open at +the instant I fired, acted upon the arrow much after the fashion of a +whirlpool, and drew in the fatal shaft. I was about to explain how a +comparatively small maelstrom could suck in the largest ship, when the +curtain fell of its own accord, amid the shouts of the audience. + +This was my last appearance on any stage. It was some time, though, +before I heard the end of the William Tell business. Malicious little +boys who had not been allowed to buy tickets to my theatre used to cry +out after me in the street, + + “'Who killed Cock Robin?' + 'I,' said the sparrer, + 'With my bow and arrer, + I killed Cock Robin!'” + +The sarcasm of this verse was more than I could stand. And it made +Pepper Whitcomb pretty mad to be called Cock Robin, I can tell you! + +So the days glided on, with fewer clouds and more sunshine than fall to +the lot of most boys. Conway was certainly a cloud. Within school-bounds +he seldom ventured to be aggressive; but whenever we met about town he +never failed to brush against me, or pull my cap over my eyes, or +drive me distracted by inquiring after my family in New Orleans, always +alluding to them as highly respectable colored people. + +Jack Harris was right when he said Conway would give me no rest until I +fought him. I felt it was ordained ages before our birth that we should +meet on this planet and fight. With the view of not running counter to +destiny, I quietly prepared myself for the impending conflict. The scene +of my dramatic triumphs was turned into a gymnasium for this purpose, +though I did not openly avow the fact to the boys. By persistently +standing on my head, raising heavy weights, and going hand over hand up +a ladder, I developed my muscle until my little body was as tough as a +hickory knot and as supple as tripe. I also took occasional lessons in +the noble art of self-defence, under the tuition of Phil Adams. + +I brooded over the matter until the idea of fighting Conway became a +part of me. I fought him in imagination during school-hours; I dreamed +of fighting with him at night, when he would suddenly expand into a +giant twelve feet high, and then as suddenly shrink into a pygmy so +small that I couldn't hit him. In this latter shape he would get into +my hair, or pop into my waistcoat-pocket, treating me with as little +ceremony as the Liliputians showed Captain Lemuel Gulliver--all of which +was not pleasant, to be sure. On the whole, Conway was a cloud. + +And then I had a cloud at home. It was not Grandfather Nutter, nor Miss +Abigail, nor Kitty Collins, though they all helped to compose it. It +was a vague, funereal, impalpable something which no amount of gymnastic +training would enable me to knock over. It was Sunday. If ever I have +a boy to bring up in the way he should go, I intend to make Sunday a +cheerful day to him. Sunday was not a cheerful day at the Nutter House. +You shall judge for yourself. + +It is Sunday morning. I should premise by saying that the deep gloom +which has settled over everything set in like a heavy fog early on +Saturday evening. + +At seven o'clock my grandfather comes smilelessly downstairs. He is +dressed in black, and looks as if he had lost all his friends during +the night. Miss Abigail, also in black, looks as if she were prepared to +bury them, and not indisposed to enjoy the ceremony. Even Kitty Collins +has caught the contagious gloom, as I perceive when she brings in the +coffee-urn--a solemn and sculpturesque urn at any time, but monumental +now--and sets it down in front of Miss Abigail. Miss Abigail gazes at +the urn as if it held the ashes of her ancestors, instead of a generous +quantity of fine old Java coffee. The meal progresses in silence. + +Our parlor is by no means thrown open every day. It is open this June +morning, and is pervaded by a strong smell of centretable. The furniture +of the room, and the little China ornaments on the mantel-piece, have a +constrained, unfamiliar look. My grandfather sits in a mahogany chair, +reading a large Bible covered with green baize. Miss Abigail occupies +one end of the sofa, and has her hands crossed stiffly in her lap. I +sit in the corner, crushed. Robinson Crusoe and Gil Blas are in close +confinement. Baron Trenck, who managed to escape from the fortress of +Clatz, can't for the life of him get out of our sitting-room closet. Even +the Rivermouth Barnacle is suppressed until Monday. Genial converse, +harmless books, smiles, lightsome hearts, all are banished. If I want to +read anything, I can read Baxter's Saints' Rest. I would die first. So +I sit there kicking my heels, thinking about New Orleans, and watching +a morbid blue-bottle fly that attempts to commit suicide by butting his +head against the window-pane. Listen!--no, yes--it is--it is the robins +singing in the garden--the grateful, joyous robins singing away like mad, +just as if it wasn't Sunday. Their audacity tickles me. + +My grandfather looks up, and inquires in a sepulchral voice if I am +ready for Sabbath school. It is time to go. I like the Sabbath school; +there are bright young faces there, at all events. When I get out into +the sunshine alone, I draw a long breath; I would turn a somersault up +against Neighbor Penhallow's newly painted fence if I hadn't my best +trousers on, so glad am I to escape from the oppressive atmosphere of +the Nutter House. + +Sabbath school over, I go to meeting, joining my grandfather, who +doesn't appear to be any relation to me this day, and Miss Abigail, in +the porch. Our minister holds out very little hope to any of us of being +saved. Convinced that I am a lost creature, in common with the human +family, I return home behind my guardians at a snail's pace. We have a +dead cold dinner. I saw it laid out yesterday. + +There is a long interval between this repast and the second service, +and a still longer interval between the beginning and the end of that +service; for the Rev. Wibird Hawkins's sermons are none of the shortest, +whatever else they may be. + +After meeting, my grandfather and I take a walk. We visit appropriately +enough--a neighboring graveyard. I am by this time in a condition of +mind to become a willing inmate of the place. The usual evening +prayer-meeting is postponed for some reason. At half past eight I go to +bed. + +This is the way Sunday was observed in the Nutter House, and pretty +generally throughout the town, twenty years ago.(1) People who were +prosperous and natural and happy on Saturday became the most rueful of +human beings in the brief space of twelve hours. I don't think there was +any hypocrisy in this. It was merely the old Puritan austerity cropping +out once a week. Many of these people were pure Christians every day in +the seven--excepting the seventh. Then they were decorous and solemn to +the verge of moroseness. I should not like to be misunderstood on this +point. Sunday is a blessed day, and therefore it should not be made a +gloomy one. It is the Lord's day, and I do believe that cheerful hearts +and faces are not unpleasant in His sight. + + “O day of rest! How beautiful, how fair, + How welcome to the weary and the old! + Day of the Lord! and truce to earthly cares! + Day of the Lord, as all our days should be! + Ah, why will man by his austerities + Shut out the blessed sunshine and the light, + And make of thee a dungeon of despair!” + + + (1) About 1850. + + + + +Chapter Seven--One Memorable Night + + +Two months had elapsed since my arrival at Rivermouth, when the approach +of an important celebration produced the greatest excitement among the +juvenile population of the town. + +There was very little hard study done in the Temple Grammar School the +week preceding the Fourth of July. For my part, my heart and brain were +so full of fire-crackers, Roman candles, rockets, pin-wheels, squibs, +and gunpowder in various seductive forms, that I wonder I didn't explode +under Mr. Grimshaw's very nose. I couldn't do a sum to save me; I +couldn't tell, for love or money, whether Tallahassee was the capital +of Tennessee or of Florida; the present and the pluperfect tenses +were inextricably mixed in my memory, and I didn't know a verb from an +adjective when I met one. This was not alone my condition, but that of +every boy in the school. + +Mr. Grimshaw considerately made allowances for our temporary +distraction, and sought to fix our interest on the lessons by connecting +them directly or indirectly with the coming Event. The class in +arithmetic, for instance, was requested to state how many boxes of +fire-crackers, each box measuring sixteen inches square, could be stored +in a room of such and such dimensions. He gave us the Declaration of +Independence for a parsing exercise, and in geography confined his +questions almost exclusively to localities rendered famous in the +Revolutionary War. + +“What did the people of Boston do with the tea on board the English +vessels?” asked our wily instructor. + +“Threw it into the river!” shrieked the smaller boys, with an +impetuosity that made Mr. Grimshaw smile in spite of himself. One +luckless urchin said, “Chucked it,” for which happy expression he was +kept in at recess. + +Notwithstanding these clever stratagems, there was not much solid work +done by anybody. The trail of the serpent (an inexpensive but dangerous +fire-toy) was over us all. We went round deformed by quantities of +Chinese crackers artlessly concealed in our trousers-pockets; and if a +boy whipped out his handkerchief without proper precaution, he was sure +to let off two or three torpedoes. + +Even Mr. Grimshaw was made a sort of accessory to the universal +demoralization. In calling the school to order, he always rapped on +the table with a heavy ruler. Under the green baize table-cloth, on the +exact spot where he usually struck, certain boy, whose name I withhold, +placed a fat torpedo. The result was a loud explosion, which caused Mr. +Grimshaw to look queer. Charley Marden was at the water-pail, at the +time, and directed general attention to himself by strangling for +several seconds and then squirting a slender thread of water over the +blackboard. + +Mr. Grimshaw fixed his eyes reproachfully on Charley, but said nothing. +The real culprit (it wasn't Charley Marden, but the boy whose name I +withhold) instantly regretted his badness, and after school confessed +the whole thing to Mr. Grimshaw, who heaped coals of fire upon the +nameless boy's head giving him five cents for the Fourth of July. If +Mr. Grimshaw had caned this unknown youth, the punishment would not have +been half so severe. + +On the last day of June the Captain received a letter from my father, +enclosing five dollars “for my son Tom,” which enabled that young +gentleman to make regal preparations for the celebration of our national +independence. A portion of this money, two dollars, I hastened to invest +in fireworks; the balance I put by for contingencies. In placing the +fund in my possession, the Captain imposed one condition that dampened +my ardor considerably--I was to buy no gunpowder. I might have all the +snapping-crackers and torpedoes I wanted; but gunpowder was out of the +question. + +I thought this rather hard, for all my young friends were provided with +pistols of various sizes. Pepper Whitcomb had a horse-pistol nearly as +large as himself, and Jack Harris, though he, to be sure, was a big +boy, was going to have a real oldfashioned flintlock musket. However, I +didn't mean to let this drawback destroy my happiness. I had one charge +of powder stowed away in the little brass pistol which I brought from +New Orleans, and was bound to make a noise in the world once, if I never +did again. + +It was a custom observed from time immemorial for the towns-boys to have +a bonfire on the Square on the midnight before the Fourth. I didn't ask +the Captain's leave to attend this ceremony, for I had a general idea +that he wouldn't give it. If the Captain, I reasoned, doesn't forbid me, +I break no orders by going. Now this was a specious line of argument, +and the mishaps that befell me in consequence of adopting it were richly +deserved. + +On the evening of the 3d I retired to bed very early, in order to disarm +suspicion. I didn't sleep a wink, waiting for eleven o'clock to come +round; and I thought it never would come round, as I lay counting from +time to time the slow strokes of the ponderous bell in the steeple of +the Old North Church. At length the laggard hour arrived. While the +clock was striking I jumped out of bed and began dressing. + +My grandfather and Miss Abigail were heavy sleepers, and I might have +stolen downstairs and out at the front door undetected; but such a +commonplace proceeding did not suit my adventurous disposition. I +fastened one end of a rope (it was a few yards cut from Kitty Collins's +clothes-line) to the bedpost nearest the window, and cautiously climbed +out on the wide pediment over the hall door. I had neglected to knot the +rope; the result was, that, the moment I swung clear of the pediment, I +descended like a flash of lightning, and warmed both my hands smartly. +The rope, moreover, was four or five feet too short; so I got a fall +that would have proved serious had I not tumbled into the middle of one +of the big rose-bushes growing on either side of the steps. + +I scrambled out of that without delay, and was congratulating myself on +my good luck, when I saw by the light of the setting moon the form of a +man leaning over the garden gate. It was one of the town watch, who had +probably been observing my operations with curiosity. Seeing no chance +of escape, I put a bold face on the matter and walked directly up to +him. + +“What on airth air you a doin'?” asked the man, grasping the collar of +my jacket. + +“I live here, sir, if you please,” I replied, “and am going to the +bonfire. I didn't want to wake up the old folks, that's all.” + +The man cocked his eye at me in the most amiable manner, and released +his hold. + +“Boys is boys,” he muttered. He didn't attempt to stop me as I slipped +through the gate. + +Once beyond his clutches, I took to my heels and soon reached the +Square, where I found forty or fifty fellows assembled, engaged in +building a pyramid of tar-barrels. The palms of my hands still tingled +so that I couldn't join in the sport. I stood in the doorway of the +Nautilus Bank, watching the workers, among whom I recognized lots of my +schoolmates. They looked like a legion of imps, coming and going in the +twilight, busy in raising some infernal edifice. What a Babel of +voices it was, everybody directing everybody else, and everybody doing +everything wrong! + +When all was prepared, someone applied a match to the sombre pile. A +fiery tongue thrust itself out here and there, then suddenly the whole +fabric burst into flames, blazing and crackling beautifully. This was a +signal for the boys to join hands and dance around the burning barrels, +which they did shouting like mad creatures. When the fire had burnt +down a little, fresh staves were brought and heaped on the pyre. In the +excitement of the moment I forgot my tingling palms, and found myself in +the thick of the carousal. + +Before we were half ready, our combustible material was expended, and a +disheartening kind of darkness settled down upon us. The boys collected +together here and there in knots, consulting as to what should be done. +It yet lacked four or five hours of daybreak, and none of us were in the +humor to return to bed. I approached one of the groups standing near the +town pump, and discovered in the uncertain light of the dying brands the +figures of Jack Harris, Phil Adams, Harry Blake, and Pepper Whitcomb, +their faces streaked with perspiration and tar, and, their whole +appearance suggestive of New Zealand chiefs. + +“Hullo! Here's Tom Bailey!” shouted Pepper Whitcomb. “He'll join in!” + +Of course he would. The sting had gone out of my hands, and I was ripe +for anything--none the less ripe for not knowing what was on the tapis. +After whispering together for a moment the boys motioned me to follow +them. + +We glided out from the crowd and silently wended our way through a +neighboring alley, at the head of which stood a tumble-down old barn, +owned by one Ezra Wingate. In former days this was the stable of the +mail-coach that ran between Rivermouth and Boston. When the railroad +superseded that primitive mode of travel, the lumbering vehicle was +rolled in the barn, and there it stayed. The stage-driver, after +prophesying the immediate downfall of the nation, died of grief and +apoplexy, and the old coach followed in his wake as fast as could +by quietly dropping to pieces. The barn had the reputation of being +haunted, and I think we all kept very close together when we found +ourselves standing in the black shadow cast by the tall gable. Here, +in a low voice, Jack Harris laid bare his plan, which was to burn the +ancient stage-coach. + +“The old trundle-cart isn't worth twenty-five cents,” said Jack Harris, +“and Ezra Wingate ought to thank us for getting the rubbish out of the +way. But if any fellow here doesn't want to have a hand in it, let him +cut and run, and keep a quiet tongue in his head ever after.” + +With this he pulled out the staples that held the lock, and the big barn +door swung slowly open. The interior of the stable was pitch-dark, of +course. As we made a movement to enter, a sudden scrambling, and the +sound of heavy bodies leaping in all directions, caused us to start back +in terror. + +“Rats!” cried Phil Adams. + +“Bats!” exclaimed Harry Blake. + +“Cats!” suggested Jack Harris. “Who's afraid?” + +Well, the truth is, we were all afraid; and if the pole of the stage had +not been lying close to the threshold, I don't believe anything on earth +would have induced us to cross it. We seized hold of the pole-straps +and succeeded with great trouble in dragging the coach out. The two fore +wheels had rusted to the axle-tree, and refused to revolve. It was the +merest skeleton of a coach. The cushions had long since been removed, +and the leather hangings, where they had not crumbled away, dangled in +shreds from the worm-eaten frame. A load of ghosts and a span of phantom +horses to drag them would have made the ghastly thing complete. + +Luckily for our undertaking, the stable stood at the top of a very steep +hill. With three boys to push behind, and two in front to steer, we +started the old coach on its last trip with little or no difficulty. +Our speed increased every moment, and, the fore wheels becoming unlocked +as we arrived at the foot of the declivity, we charged upon the crowd +like a regiment of cavalry, scattering the people right and left. Before +reaching the bonfire, to which someone had added several bushels of +shavings, Jack Harris and Phil Adams, who were steering, dropped on the +ground, and allowed the vehicle to pass over them, which it did without +injuring them; but the boys who were clinging for dear life to the +trunk-rack behind fell over the prostrate steersman, and there we all +lay in a heap, two or three of us quite picturesque with the nose-bleed. + +The coach, with an intuitive perception of what was expected of it, +plunged into the centre of the kindling shavings, and stopped. The +flames sprung up and clung to the rotten woodwork, which burned like +tinder. At this moment a figure was seen leaping wildly from the inside +of the blazing coach. The figure made three bounds towards us, and +tripped over Harry Blake. It was Pepper Whitcomb, with his hair somewhat +singed, and his eyebrows completely scorched off! + +Pepper had slyly ensconced himself on the back seat before we started, +intending to have a neat little ride down hill, and a laugh at us +afterwards. But the laugh, as it happened, was on our side, or would +have been, if half a dozen watchmen had not suddenly pounced down upon +us, as we lay scrambling on the ground, weak with mirth over Pepper's +misfortune. We were collared and marched off before we well knew what +had happened. + +The abrupt transition from the noise and light of the Square to the +silent, gloomy brick room in the rear of the Meat Market seemed like the +work of enchantment. We stared at each other, aghast. + +“Well,” remarked Jack Harris, with a sickly smile, “this is a go!” + +“No go, I should say,” whimpered Harry Blake, glancing at the bare brick +walls and the heavy ironplated door. + +“Never say die,” muttered Phil Adams, dolefully. + +The bridewell was a small low-studded chamber built up against the +rear end of the Meat Market, and approached from the Square by a narrow +passage-way. A portion of the rooms partitioned off into eight cells, +numbered, each capable of holding two persons. The cells were full at +the time, as we presently discovered by seeing several hideous faces +leering out at us through the gratings of the doors. + +A smoky oil-lamp in a lantern suspended from the ceiling threw a +flickering light over the apartment, which contained no furniture +excepting a couple of stout wooden benches. It was a dismal place by +night, and only little less dismal by day, tall houses surrounding “the +lock-up” prevented the faintest ray of sunshine from penetrating the +ventilator over the door--long narrow window opening inward and propped +up by a piece of lath. + +As we seated ourselves in a row on one of the benches, I imagine that +our aspect was anything but cheerful. Adams and Harris looked very +anxious, and Harry Blake, whose nose had just stopped bleeding, was +mournfully carving his name, by sheer force of habit, on the prison +bench. I don't think I ever saw a more “wrecked” expression on any +human countenance than Pepper Whitcomb's presented. His look of natural +astonishment at finding himself incarcerated in a jail was considerably +heightened by his lack of eyebrows. + +As for me, it was only by thinking how the late Baron Trenck would +have conducted himself under similar circumstances that I was able to +restrain my tears. + +None of us were inclined to conversation. A deep silence, broken now +and then by a startling snore from the cells, reigned throughout the +chamber. By and by Pepper Whitcomb glanced nervously towards Phil Adams +and said, “Phil, do you think they will--hang us?” + +“Hang your grandmother!” returned Adams, impatiently. “What I'm afraid +of is that they'll keep us locked up until the Fourth is over.” + +“You ain't smart ef they do!” cried a voice from one of the cells. It +was a deep bass voice that sent a chill through me. + +“Who are you?” said Jack Harris, addressing the cells in general; for +the echoing qualities of the room made it difficult to locate the voice. + +“That don't matter,” replied the speaker, putting his face close up to +the gratings of No. 3, “but ef I was a youngster like you, free an' easy +outside there, this spot wouldn't hold me long.” + +“That's so!” chimed several of the prison-birds, wagging their heads +behind the iron lattices. + +“Hush!” whispered Jack Harris, rising from his seat and walking on +tip-toe to the door of cell No. 3. “What would you do?” + +“Do? Why, I'd pile them 'ere benches up agin that 'ere door, an' crawl +out of that 'erc winder in no time. That's my adwice.” + +“And werry good adwice it is, Jim,” said the occupant of No. 5, +approvingly. + +Jack Harris seemed to be of the same opinion, for he hastily placed the +benches one on the top of another under the ventilator, and, climbing up +on the highest bench, peeped out into the passage-way. + +“If any gent happens to have a ninepence about him,” said the man in +cell No. 3, “there's a sufferin' family here as could make use of it. +Smallest favors gratefully received, an' no questions axed.” + +This appeal touched a new silver quarter of a dollar in my +trousers-pocket; I fished out the coin from a mass of fireworks, and +gave it to the prisoner. He appeared to be so good-natured a fellow that +I ventured to ask what he had done to get into jail. + +“Intirely innocent. I was clapped in here by a rascally nevew as wishes +to enjoy my wealth afore I'm dead.' + +“Your name, Sir?' I inquired, with a view of reporting the outrage to my +grandfather and having the injured person re instated in society. + +“Git out, you insolent young reptyle!” shouted the man, in a passion. + +I retreated precipitately, amid a roar of laughter from the other cells. + +“Can't you keep still?” exclaimed Harris, withdrawing his head from the +window. + +A portly watchman usually sat on a stool outside the door day and night; +but on this particular occasion, his services being required elsewhere, +the bridewell had been left to guard itself. + +“All clear,” whispered Jack Harris, as he vanished through the +aperture and dropped softly on the ground outside. We all followed him +expeditiously--Pepper Whitcomb and myself getting stuck in the window for +a moment in our frantic efforts not to be last. + +“Now, boys, everybody for himself!” + + + + +Chapter Eight--The Adventures of a Fourth + + +The sun cast a broad column of quivering gold across the river at the +foot of our street, just as I reached the doorstep of the Nutter House. +Kitty Collins, with her dress tucked about her so that she looked as if +she had on a pair of calico trousers, was washing off the sidewalk. + +“Arrah you bad boy!” cried Kitty, leaning on the mop handle. “The Capen +has jist been askin' for you. He's gone up town, now. It's a nate thing +you done with my clothes-line, and, it's me you may thank for gettin' it +out of the way before the Capen come down.” + +The kind creature had hauled in the rope, and my escapade had not been +discovered by the family; but I knew very well that the burning of the +stage-coach, and the arrest of the boys concerned in the mischief, were +sure to reach my grandfathers ears sooner or later. + +“Well, Thomas,” said the old gentleman, an hour or so afterwards, +beaming upon me benevolently across the breakfast table, “you didn't +wait to be called this morning.” + +“No, sir,” I replied, growing very warm, “I took a little run up town to +see what was going on.” + +I didn't say anything about the little run I took home again! “They had +quite a time on the Square last night,” remarked Captain Nutter, looking +up from the Rivermouth Barnacle, which was always placed beside his +coffee-cup at breakfast. + +I felt that my hair was preparing to stand on end. + +“Quite a time,” continued my grandfather. “Some boys broke into Ezra +Wingate's barn and carried off the old stagecoach. The young rascals! I +do believe they'd burn up the whole town if they had their way.” + +With this he resumed the paper. After a long silence he exclaimed, +“Hullo!” upon which I nearly fell off the chair. + +“'Miscreants unknown,'” read my grandfather, following the paragraph +with his forefinger; “'escaped from the bridewell, leaving no clew to +their identity, except the letter H, cut on one of the benches.' 'Five +dollars reward offered for the apprehension of the perpetrators.' Sho! I +hope Wingate will catch them.” + +I don't see how I continued to live, for on hearing this the breath went +entirely out of my body. I beat a retreat from the room as soon as I +could, and flew to the stable with a misty intention of mounting Gypsy +and escaping from the place. I was pondering what steps to take, when +Jack Harris and Charley Marden entered the yard. + +“I say,” said Harris, as blithe as a lark, “has old Wingate been here?” + +“Been here?” I cried, “I should hope not!” + +“The whole thing's out, you know,” said Harris, pulling Gypsy's forelock +over her eyes and blowing playfully into her nostrils. + +“You don't mean it!” I gasped. + +“Yes, I do, and we are to pay Wingate three dollars apiece. He'll make +rather a good spec out of it.” + +“But how did he discover that we were the--the miscreants?” I asked, +quoting mechanically from the Rivermouth Bamacle. + +“Why, he saw us take the old ark, confound him! He's been trying to sell +it any time these ten years. Now he has sold it to us. When he found +that we had slipped out of the Meat Market, he went right off and wrote +the advertisement offering five dollars reward; though he knew well +enough who had taken the coach, for he came round to my father's +house before the paper was printed to talk the matter over. Wasn't the +governor mad, though! But it's all settled, I tell you. We're to pay +Wingate fifteen dollars for the old go-cart, which he wanted to sell +the other day for seventy-five cents, and couldn't. It's a downright +swindle. But the funny part of it is to come.” + +“O, there's a funny part to it, is there?” I remarked bitterly. + +“Yes. The moment Bill Conway saw the advertisement, he knew it was +Harry Blake who cut that letter H on the bench; so off he rushes up to +Wingate--kind of him, wasn't it?--and claims the reward. 'Too late, young +man,' says old Wingate, 'the culprits has been discovered.' You see +Sly-boots hadn't any intention of paying that five dollars.” + +Jack Harris's statement lifted a weight from my bosom. The article in +the Rivermouth Barnacle had placed the affair before me in a new light. +I had thoughtlessly committed a grave offence. Though the property in +question was valueless, we were clearly wrong in destroying it. At the +same time Mr. Wingate had tacitly sanctioned the act by not preventing +it when he might easily have done so. He had allowed his property to be +destroyed in order that he might realize a large profit. + +Without waiting to hear more, I went straight to Captain Nutter, and, +laying my remaining three dollars on his knee, confessed my share in the +previous night's transaction. + +The Captain heard me through in profound silence, pocketed the +bank-notes, and walked off without speaking a word. He had punished me +in his own whimsical fashion at the breakfast table, for, at the very +moment he was harrowing up my soul by reading the extracts from the +Rivermouth Barnacle, he not only knew all about the bonfire, but had +paid Ezra Wingate his three dollars. Such was the duplicity of that aged +impostor. + +I think Captain Nutter was justified in retaining my pocketmoney, as +additional punishment, though the possession of it later in the day +would have got me out of a difficult position, as the reader will see +further on. I returned with a light heart and a large piece of punk to +my friends in the stable-yard, where we celebrated the termination +of our trouble by setting off two packs of fire-crackers in an empty +wine-cask. They made a prodigious racket, but failed somehow to fully +express my feelings. The little brass pistol in my bedroom suddenly +occurred to me. It had been loaded I don't know how many months, long +before I left New Orleans, and now was the time, if ever, to fire it +off. Muskets, blunderbusses, and pistols were banging away lively all +over town, and the smell of gunpowder, floating on the air, set me wild +to add something respectable to the universal din. + +When the pistol was produced, Jack Harris examined the rusty cap and +prophesied that it would not explode. + +“Never mind,” said I, “let's try it.” + +I had fired the pistol once, secretly, in New Orleans, and, remembering +the noise it gave birth to on that occasion, I shut both eyes tight as +I pulled the trigger. The hammer clicked on the cap with a dull, dead +sound. Then Harris tried it; then Charley Marden; then I took it again, +and after three or four trials was on the point of giving it up as a +bad job, when the obstinate thing went off with a tremendous explosion, +nearly jerking my arm from the socket. The smoke cleared away, and +there I stood with the stock of the pistol clutched convulsively in my +hand--the barrel, lock, trigger, and ramrod having vanished into thin +air. + +“Are you hurt?” cried the boys, in one breath. + +“N--no,” I replied, dubiously, for the concussion had bewildered me a +little. + +When I realized the nature of the calamity, my grief was excessive. I +can't imagine what led me to do so ridiculous a thing, but I gravely +buried the remains of my beloved pistol in our back garden, and erected +over the mound a slate tablet to the effect that “Mr. Barker formerly of +new Orleans, was killed accidentally on the Fourth of July, 18-- in the +2nd year of his Age.” Binny Wallace, arriving on the spot just after +the disaster, and Charley Marden (who enjoyed the obsequies immensely), +acted with me as chief mourners. I, for my part, was a very sincere one. + +As I turned away in a disconsolate mood from the garden, Charley Marden +remarked that he shouldn't be surprised if the pistol-butt took root and +grew into a mahogany-tree or something. He said he once planted an old +musket-stock, and shortly afterwards a lot of shoots sprung up! Jack +Harris laughed; but neither I nor Binny Wallace saw Charley's wicked +joke. + +We were now joined by Pepper Whitcomb, Fred Langdon, and several other +desperate characters, on their way to the Square, which was always a +busy place when public festivities were going on. Feeling that I was +still in disgrace with the Captain, I thought it politic to ask his +consent before accompanying the boys. + +He gave it with some hesitation, advising me to be careful not to get +in front of the firearms. Once he put his fingers mechanically into his +vest-pocket and half drew forth some dollar bills, then slowly thrust +them back again as his sense of justice overcame his genial disposition. +I guess it cut the old gentleman to the heart to be obliged to keep +me out of my pocket-money. I know it did me. However, as I was passing +through the hall, Miss Abigail, with a very severe cast of countenance, +slipped a brand-new quarter into my hand. We had silver currency in +those days, thank Heaven! + +Great were the bustle and confusion on the Square. By the way, I don't +know why they called this large open space a square, unless because it +was an oval--an oval formed by the confluence of half a dozen streets, +now thronged by crowds of smartly dressed towns-people and country +folks; for Rivermouth on the Fourth was the centre of attraction to the +inhabitants of the neighboring villages. + +On one side of the Square were twenty or thirty booths arranged in +a semi-circle, gay with little flags and seductive with lemonade, +ginger-beer, and seedcakes. Here and there were tables at which could be +purchased the smaller sort of fireworks, such as pin-wheels, serpents, +double-headers, and punk warranted not to go out. Many of the adjacent +houses made a pretty display of bunting, and across each of the streets +opening on the Square was an arch of spruce and evergreen, blossoming +all over with patriotic mottoes and paper roses. + +It was a noisy, merry, bewildering scene as we came upon the ground. The +incessant rattle of small arms, the booming of the twelve-pounder firing +on the Mill Dam, and the silvery clangor of the church-bells ringing +simultaneously--not to mention an ambitious brass-band that was blowing +itself to pieces on a balcony--were enough to drive one distracted. We +amused ourselves for an hour or two, darting in and out among the crowd +and setting off our crackers. At one o'clock the Hon. Hezekiah Elkins +mounted a platform in the middle of the Square and delivered an oration, +to which his “feller-citizens” didn't pay much attention, having all +they could do to dodge the squibs that were set loose upon them by +mischievous boys stationed on the surrounding housetops. + +Our little party which had picked up recruits here and there, not being +swayed by eloquence, withdrew to a booth on the outskirts of the crowd, +where we regaled ourselves with root beer at two cents a glass. I +recollect being much struck by the placard surmounting this tent: + +ROOT BEER + +SOLD HERE + +It seemed to me the perfection of pith and poetry. What could be more +terse? Not a word to spare, and yet everything fully expressed. Rhyme +and rhythm faultless. It was a delightful poet who made those verses. As +for the beer itself--that, I think, must have been made from the root +of all evil! A single glass of it insured an uninterrupted pain for +twenty-four hours. + +The influence of my liberality working on Charley Marden--for it was I +who paid for the beer--he presently invited us all to take an ice-cream +with him at Pettingil's saloon. Pettingil was the Delmonico of +Rivermouth. He furnished ices and confectionery for aristocratic balls +and parties, and didn't disdain to officiate as leader of the orchestra +at the same; for Pettingil played on the violin, as Pepper Whitcomb +described it, “like Old Scratch.” + +Pettingil's confectionery store was on the corner of Willow and High +Streets. The saloon, separated from the shop by a flight of three steps +leading to a door hung with faded red drapery, had about it an air of +mystery and seclusion quite delightful. Four windows, also draped, faced +the side-street, affording an unobstructed view of Marm Hatch's back +yard, where a number of inexplicable garments on a clothes-line were +always to be seen careering in the wind. + +There was a lull just then in the ice-cream business, it being +dinner-time, and we found the saloon unoccupied. When we had seated +ourselves around the largest marble-topped table, Charley Marden in a +manly voice ordered twelve sixpenny icecreams, “strawberry and verneller +mixed.” + +It was a magnificent sight, those twelve chilly glasses entering the +room on a waiter, the red and white custard rising from each glass like +a church-steeple, and the spoon-handle shooting up from the apex like +a spire. I doubt if a person of the nicest palate could have +distinguished, with his eyes shut, which was the vanilla and which the +strawberry; but if I could at this moment obtain a cream tasting as that +did, I would give five dollars for a very small quantity. + +We fell to with a will, and so evenly balanced were our capabilities +that we finished our creams together, the spoons clinking in the glasses +like one spoon. + +“Let's have some more!” cried Charley Marden, with the air of Aladdin +ordering up a fresh hogshead of pearls and rubies. “Tom Bailey, tell +Pettingil to send in another round.” + +Could I credit my ears? I looked at him to see if he were in earnest. +He meant it. In a moment more I was leaning over the counter giving +directions for a second supply. Thinking it would make no difference to +such a gorgeous young sybarite as Marden, I took the liberty of ordering +ninepenny creams this time. + +On returning to the saloon, what was my horror at finding it empty! + +There were the twelve cloudy glasses, standing in a circle on the sticky +marble slab, and not a boy to be seen. A pair of hands letting go their +hold on the window-sill outside explained matters. I had been made a +victim. + +I couldn't stay and face Pettingil, whose peppery temper was well known +among the boys. I hadn't a cent in the world to appease him. What should +I do? I heard the clink of approaching glasses--the ninepenny creams. +I rushed to the nearest window. It was only five feet to the ground. I +threw myself out as if I had been an old hat. + +Landing on my feet, I fled breathlessly down High Street, through +Willow, and was turning into Brierwood Place when the sound of several +voices, calling to me in distress, stopped my progress. + +“Look out, you fool! The mine! The mine!” yelled the warning voices. + +Several men and boys were standing at the head of the street, making +insane gestures to me to avoid something. But I saw no mine, only in the +middle of the road in front of me was a common flour-barrel, which, as +I gazed at it, suddenly rose into the air with a terrific explosion. +I felt myself thrown violently off my feet. I remember nothing else, +excepting that, as I went up, I caught a momentary glimpse of Ezra +Wingate leering through is shop window like an avenging spirit. + +The mine that had wrought me woe was not properly a mine at all, but +merely a few ounces of powder placed under an empty keg or barrel and +fired with a slow-match. Boys who didn't happen to have pistols or +cannon generally burnt their powder in this fashion. + +For an account of what followed I am indebted to hearsay, for I was +insensible when the people picked me up and carried me home on a shutter +borrowed from the proprietor of Pettingil's saloon. I was supposed to +be killed, but happily (happily for me at least) I was merely stunned. +I lay in a semi-unconscious state until eight o'clock that night, when +I attempted to speak. Miss Abigail, who watched by the bedside, put +her ear down to my lips and was saluted with these remarkable words: +“Strawberry and verneller mixed!” + +“Mercy on us! What is the boy saying?” cried Miss Abigail. + +“ROOTBEERSOLDHERE!” + + This inscription is copied from a triangular-shaped + piece of slate, still preserved in the garret of the Nutter + House, together with the pistol butt itself, which was + subsequently dug up for a postmortem examination. + + + + +Chapter Nine--I Become an R. M. C. + + +In the course of ten days I recovered sufficiently from my injuries to +attend school, where, for a little while, I was looked upon as a hero, +on account of having been blown up. What don't we make a hero of? The +distraction which prevailed in the classes the week preceding the Fourth +had subsided, and nothing remained to indicate the recent festivities, +excepting a noticeable want of eyebrows on the part of Pepper Whitcomb +and myself. + +In August we had two weeks' vacation. It was about this time that I +became a member of the Rivermouth Centipedes, a secret society composed +of twelve of the Temple Grammar School boys. This was an honor to which +I had long aspired, but, being a new boy, I was not admitted to the +fraternity until my character had fully developed itself. + +It was a very select society, the object of which I never fathomed, +though I was an active member of the body during the remainder of my +residence at Rivermouth, and at one time held the onerous position of F. +C., First Centipede. Each of the elect wore a copper cent (some occult +association being established between a cent apiece and a centipedes +suspended by a string round his neck). The medals were worn next the +skin, and it was while bathing one day at Grave Point, with Jack Harris +and Fred Langdon, that I had my curiosity roused to the highest pitch +by a sight of these singular emblems. As soon as I ascertained the +existence of a boys' club, of course I was ready to die to join it. And +eventually I was allowed to join. + +The initiation ceremony took place in Fred Langdon's barn, where I was +submitted to a series of trials not calculated to soothe the nerves of a +timorous boy. Before being led to the Grotto of Enchantment--such was the +modest title given to the loft over my friend's wood-house--my hands were +securely pinioned, and my eyes covered with a thick silk handkerchief. +At the head of the stairs I was told in an unrecognizable, husky voice, +that it was not yet too late to retreat if I felt myself physically too +weak to undergo the necessary tortures. I replied that I was not too +weak, in a tone which I intended to be resolute, but which, in spite of +me, seemed to come from the pit of my stomach. + +“It is well!” said the husky voice. + +I did not feel so sure about that; but, having made up my mind to be a +Centipede, a Centipede I was bound to be. Other boys had passed through +the ordeal and lived, why should not I? + +A prolonged silence followed this preliminary examination and I was +wondering what would come next, when a pistol fired off close by my car +deafened me for a moment. The unknown voice then directed me to take ten +steps forward and stop at the word halt. I took ten steps, and halted. + +“Stricken mortal,” said a second husky voice, more husky, if possible, +than the first, “if you had advanced another inch, you would have +disappeared down an abyss three thousand feet deep!” + +I naturally shrunk back at this friendly piece of information. A prick +from some two-pronged instrument, evidently a pitchfork, gently +checked my retreat. I was then conducted to the brink of several other +precipices, and ordered to step over many dangerous chasms, where +the result would have been instant death if I had committed the least +mistake. I have neglected to say that my movements were accompanied by +dismal groans from different parts of the grotto. + +Finally, I was led up a steep plank to what appeared to me an +incalculable height. Here I stood breathless while the bylaws were read +aloud. A more extraordinary code of laws never came from the brain of +man. The penalties attached to the abject being who should reveal any +of the secrets of the society were enough to make the blood run cold. A +second pistol-shot was heard, the something I stood on sunk with a crash +beneath my feet and I fell two miles, as nearly as I could compute it. +At the same instant the handkerchief was whisked from my eyes, and I +found myself standing in an empty hogshead surrounded by twelve masked +figures fantastically dressed. One of the conspirators was really +appalling with a tin sauce-pan on his head, and a tiger-skin sleigh-robe +thrown over his shoulders. I scarcely need say that there were no +vestiges to be seen of the fearful gulfs over which I had passed so +cautiously. My ascent had been to the top of the hogshead, and my +descent to the bottom thereof. Holding one another by the hand, +and chanting a low dirge, the Mystic Twelve revolved about me. This +concluded the ceremony. With a merry shout the boys threw off their +masks, and I was declared a regularly installed member of the R. M. C. + +I afterwards had a good deal of sport out of the club, for these +initiations, as you may imagine, were sometimes very comical spectacles, +especially when the aspirant for centipedal honors happened to be of a +timid disposition. If he showed the slightest terror, he was certain +to be tricked unmercifully. One of our subsequent devices--a humble +invention of my own--was to request the blindfolded candidate to put out +his tongue, whereupon the First Centipede would say, in a low tone, +as if not intended for the ear of the victim, “Diabolus, fetch me the +red-hot iron!” The expedition with which that tongue would disappear was +simply ridiculous. + +Our meetings were held in various barns, at no stated periods, but as +circumstances suggested. Any member had a right to call a meeting. Each +boy who failed to report himself was fined one cent. Whenever a member +had reasons for thinking that another member would be unable to attend, +he called a meeting. For instance, immediately on learning the death of +Harry Blake's great-grandfather, I issued a call. By these simple and +ingenious measures we kept our treasury in a flourishing condition, +sometimes having on hand as much as a dollar and a quarter. + +I have said that the society had no special object. It is true, there +was a tacit understanding among us that the Centipedes were to stand by +one another on all occasions, though I don't remember that they did; but +further than this we had no purpose, unless it was to accomplish as +a body the same amount of mischief which we were sure to do as +individuals. To mystify the staid and slow-going Rivermouthians was our +frequent pleasure. Several of our pranks won us such a reputation among +the townsfolk, that we were credited with having a large finger in +whatever went amiss in the place. + +One morning, about a week after my admission into the secret order, the +quiet citizens awoke to find that the signboards of all the principal +streets had changed places during the night. People who went trustfully +to sleep in Currant Square opened their eyes in Honeysuckle Terrace. +Jones's Avenue at the north end had suddenly become Walnut Street, +and Peanut Street was nowhere to be found. Confusion reigned. The town +authorities took the matter in hand without delay, and six of the Temple +Grammar School boys were summoned to appear before justice Clapbam. + +Having tearfully disclaimed to my grandfather all knowledge of +the transaction, I disappeared from the family circle, and was not +apprehended until late in the afternoon, when the Captain dragged me +ignominiously from the haymow and conducted me, more dead than alive, +to the office of justice Clapham. Here I encountered five other pallid +culprits, who had been fished out of divers coal-bins, garrets, and +chicken-coops, to answer the demands of the outraged laws. (Charley +Marden had hidden himself in a pile of gravel behind his father's house, +and looked like a recently exhumed mummy.) + +There was not the least evidence against us; and, indeed, we were wholly +innocent of the offence. The trick, as was afterwards proved, had been +played by a party of soldiers stationed at the fort in the harbor. We +were indebted for our arrest to Master Conway, who had slyly dropped a +hint, within the hearing of Selectman Mudge, to the effect that “young +Bailey and his five cronies could tell something about them signs.” + When he was called upon to make good his assertion, he was considerably +more terrified than the Centipedes, though they were ready to sink into +their shoes. + +At our next meeting it was unanimously resolved that Conway's animosity +should not be quietly submitted to. He had sought to inform against +us in the stagecoach business; he had volunteered to carry Pettingil's +“little bill” for twenty-four icecreams to Charley Marden's father; and +now he had caused us to be arraigned before justice Clapham on a charge +equally groundless and painful. After much noisy discussion, a plan of +retaliation was agreed upon. + +There was a certain slim, mild apothecary in the town, by the name of +Meeks. It was generally given out that Mr. Meeks had a vague desire +to get married, but, being a shy and timorous youth, lacked the moral +courage to do so. It was also well known that the Widow Conway had not +buried her heart with the late lamented. As to her shyness, that was not +so clear. Indeed, her attentions to Mr. Meeks, whose mother she might +have been, were of a nature not to be misunderstood, and were not +misunderstood by anyone but Mr. Meeks himself. + +The widow carried on a dress-making establishment at her residence on +the corner opposite Meeks's drug-store, and kept a wary eye on all the +young ladies from Miss Dorothy Gibbs's Female Institute who patronized +the shop for soda-water, acid-drops, and slate-pencils. In the afternoon +the widow was usually seen seated, smartly dressed, at her window +upstairs, casting destructive glances across the street--the artificial +roses in her cap and her whole languishing manner saying as plainly as a +label on a prescription, “To be Taken Immediately!” But Mr. Meeks didn't +take. + +The lady's fondness, and the gentleman's blindness, were topics ably +handled at every sewing-circle in the town. It was through these two +luckless individuals that we proposed to strike a blow at the common +enemy. To kill less than three birds with one stone did not suit +our sanguinary purpose. We disliked the widow not so much for her +sentimentality as for being the mother of Bill Conway; we disliked Mr. +Meeks, not because he was insipid, like his own syrups, but because the +widow loved him. Bill Conway we hated for himself. + +Late one dark Saturday night in September we carried our plan into +effect. On the following morning, as the orderly citizens wended their +way to church past the widow's abode, their sober faces relaxed at +beholding over her front door the well known gilt Mortar and Pestle +which usually stood on the top of a pole on the opposite corner; +while the passers on that side of the street were equally amused and +scandalized at seeing a placard bearing the following announcement +tacked to the druggist's window-shutters: + +Wanted, a Sempstress! + +The naughty cleverness of the joke (which I should be sorry to defend) +was recognized at once. It spread like wildfire over the town, and, +though the mortar and the placard were speedily removed, our triumph +was complete. The whole community was on the broad grin, and our +participation in the affair seemingly unsuspected. + +It was those wicked soldiers at the fort! + + + + +Chapter Ten--I Fight Conway + + +There was one person, however, who cherished a strong suspicion that the +Centipedes had had a hand in the business; and that person was Conway. +His red hair seemed to change to a livelier red, and his sallow cheeks +to a deeper sallow, as we glanced at him stealthily over the tops of our +slates the next day in school. He knew we were watching him, and made +sundry mouths and scowled in the most threatening way over his sums. + +Conway had an accomplishment peculiarly his own--that of throwing his +thumbs out of joint at will. Sometimes while absorbed in study, or on +becoming nervous at recitation, he performed the feat unconsciously. +Throughout this entire morning his thumbs were observed to be in a +chronic state of dislocation, indicating great mental agitation on the +part of the owner. We fully expected an outbreak from him at recess; but +the intermission passed off tranquilly, somewhat to our disappointment. + +At the close of the afternoon session it happened that Binny Wallace +and myself, having got swamped in our Latin exercise, were detained in +school for the purpose of refreshing our memories with a page of Mr. +Andrews's perplexing irregular verbs. Binny Wallace finishing his task +first, was dismissed. I followed shortly after, and, on stepping into +the playground, saw my little friend plastered, as it were, up against +the fence, and Conway standing in front of him ready to deliver a blow +on the upturned, unprotected face, whose gentleness would have stayed +any arm but a coward's. + +Seth Rodgers, with both hands in his pockets, was leaning against the +pump lazily enjoying the sport; but on seeing me sweep across the +yard, whirling my strap of books in the air like a sling, he called out +lustily, “Lay low, Conway! Here's young Bailey!” + +Conway turned just in time to catch on his shoulder the blow intended +for his head. He reached forward one of his long arms--he had arms like +a windmill, that boy--and, grasping me by the hair, tore out quite a +respectable handful. The tears flew to my eyes, but they were not the +tears of defeat; they were merely the involuntary tribute which nature +paid to the departed tresses. + +In a second my little jacket lay on the ground, and I stood on guard, +resting lightly on my right leg and keeping my eye fixed steadily on +Conway's--in all of which I was faithfully following the instructions of +Phil Adams, whose father subscribed to a sporting journal. + +Conway also threw himself into a defensive attitude, and there we were, +glaring at each other motionless, neither of us disposed to risk an +attack, but both on the alert to resist one. There is no telling how +long we might have remained in that absurd position, had we not been +interrupted. + +It was a custom with the larger pupils to return to the playground +after school, and play baseball until sundown. The town authorities +had prohibited ball-playing on the Square, and, there being no other +available place, the boys fell back perforce on the school-yard. Just at +this crisis a dozen or so of the Templars entered the gate, and, seeing +at a glance the belligerent status of Conway and myself, dropped bat and +ball, and rushed to the spot where we stood. + +“Is it a fight?” asked Phil Adams, who saw by our freshness that we had +not yet got to work. + +“Yes, it's a fight,” I answered, “unless Conway will ask Wallace's +pardon, promise never to hector me in future--and put back my hair!” + +This last condition was rather a staggerer. + +“I sha'n't do nothing of the sort,” said Conway, sulkily. + +“Then the thing must go on,” said Adams, with dignity. “Rodgers, as I +understand it, is your second, Conway? Bailey, come here. What's the row +about?” + +“He was thrashing Binny Wallace.” + +“No, I wasn't,” interrupted Conway; “but I was going to because he knows +who put Meeks's mortar over our door. And I know well enough who did it; +it was that sneaking little mulatter!” pointing at me. + +“O, by George!” I cried, reddening at the insult. + +“Cool is the word,” said Adams, as he bound a handkerchief round my +head, and carefully tucked away the long straggling locks that offered a +tempting advantage to the enemy. “Who ever heard of a fellow with such +a head of hair going into action!” muttered Phil, twitching the +handkerchief to ascertain if it were securely tied. He then loosened my +gallowses (braces), and buckled them tightly above my hips. “Now, then, +bantam, never say die!” + +Conway regarded these business-like preparations with evident misgiving, +for he called Rodgers to his side, and had himself arrayed in a similar +manner, though his hair was cropped so close that you couldn't have +taken hold of it with a pair of tweezers. + +“Is your man ready?” asked Phil Adams, addressing Rodgers. + +“Ready!” + +“Keep your back to the gate, Tom,” whispered Phil in my car, “and you'll +have the sun in his eyes.” + +Behold us once more face to face, like David and the Philistine. Look +at us as long as you may; for this is all you shall see of the combat. +According to my thinking, the hospital teaches a better lesson than the +battle-field. I will tell you about my black eye, and my swollen lip, if +you will; but not a word of the fight. + +You'll get no description of it from me, simply because I think it would +prove very poor reading, and not because I consider my revolt against +Conway's tyranny unjustifiable. + +I had borne Conway's persecutions for many months with lamb-like +patience. I might have shielded myself by appealing to Mr. Grimshaw; but +no boy in the Temple Grammar School could do that without losing caste. +Whether this was just or not doesn't matter a pin, since it was so--a +traditionary law of the place. The personal inconvenience I suffered +from my tormentor was nothing to the pain he inflicted on me indirectly +by his persistent cruelty to little Binny Wallace. I should have lacked +the spirit of a hen if I had not resented it finally. I am glad that I +faced Conway, and asked no favors, and got rid of him forever. I am glad +that Phil Adams taught me to box, and I say to all youngsters: Learn to +box, to ride, to pull an oar, and to swim. The occasion may come round, +when a decent proficiency in one or the rest of these accomplishments +will be of service to you. + +In one of the best books (1) ever written for boys are these words: + +“Learn to box, then, as you learn to play cricket and football. Not one +of you will be the worse, but very much the better, for learning to box +well. Should you never have to use it in earnest there's no exercise in +the world so good for the temper, and for the muscles of the back and +legs. + +“As for fighting, keep out of it, if you can, by all means. When the +time comes, if ever it should, that you have to say 'Yes' or 'No' to a +challenge to fight, say 'No' if you can--only take care you make it plain +to yourself why you say 'No.' It's a proof of the highest courage, if +done from true Christian motives. It's quite right and justifiable, if +done from a simple aversion to physical pain and danger. But don't say +'No' because you fear a licking and say or think it's because you fear +God, for that's neither Christian nor honest. And if you do fight, fight +it out; and don't give in while you can stand and see.” + +And don't give in when you can't! see! For I could stand very little, +and see not at all (having pommelled the school pump for the last twenty +seconds), when Conway retired from the field. As Phil Adams stepped up +to shake hands with me, he received a telling blow in the stomach; +for all the fight was not out of me yet, and I mistook him for a new +adversary. + +Convinced of my error, I accepted his congratulations, with those of the +other boys, blandly and blindly. I remember that Binny Wallace wanted to +give me his silver pencil-case. The gentle soul had stood throughout the +contest with his face turned to the fence, suffering untold agony. + +A good wash at the pump, and a cold key applied to my eye, refreshed me +amazingly. Escorted by two or three of the schoolfellows, I walked home +through the pleasant autumn twilight, battered but triumphant. As I went +along, my cap cocked on one side to keep the chilly air from my eye, I +felt that I was not only following my nose, but following it so closely, +that I was in some danger of treading on it. I seemed to have nose +enough for the whole party. My left cheek, also, was puffed out like +a dumpling. I couldn't help saying to myself, “If this is victory, how +about that other fellow?” + +“Tom,” said Harry Blake, hesitating. + +“Well?” + +“Did you see Mr. Grimshaw looking out of the recitation-room window just +as we left the yard?” + +“No was he, though?” + +“I am sure of it.” + +“Then he must have seen all the row.” + +“Shouldn't wonder.” + +“No, he didn't,” broke in Adams, “or he would have stopped it short +metre; but I guess be saw you pitching into the pump which you did +uncommonly strong--and of course be smelt mischief directly.” + +“Well, it can't be helped now,” I reflected. + +“--As the monkey said when he fell out of the cocoanut tree,” added +Charley Marden, trying to make me laugh. + +It was early candle-light when we reached the house. Miss Abigail, +opening the front door, started back at my hilarious appearance. I +tried to smile upon her sweetly, but the smile, rippling over my +swollen cheek, and dying away like a spent wave on my nose, produced an +expression of which Miss Abigail declared she had never seen the like +excepting on the face of a Chinese idol. + +She hustled me unceremoniously into the presence of my grandfather in +the sitting-room. Captain Nutter, as the recognized professional warrior +of our family, could not consistently take me to task for fighting +Conway; nor was he disposed to do so; for the Captain was well aware of +the long-continued provocation I had endured. + +“Ah, you rascal!” cried the old gentleman, after hearing my story. “Just +like me when I was young--always in one kind of trouble or another. I +believe it runs in the family.” + +“I think,” said Miss Abigail, without the faintest expression on her +countenance, “that a table-spoonful of hot-dro--” The Captain interrupted +Miss Abigail peremptorily, directing her to make a shade out of +cardboard and black silk to tie over my eye. Miss Abigail must have been +possessed with the idea that I had taken up pugilism as a profession, +for she turned out no fewer than six of these blinders. + +“They'll be handy to have in the house,” says Miss Abigail, grimly. + +Of course, so great a breach of discipline was not to be passed over by +Mr. Grimshaw. He had, as we suspected, witnessed the closing scene +of the fight from the school-room window, and the next morning, after +prayers, I was not wholly unprepared when Master Conway and myself +were called up to the desk for examination. Conway, with a piece of +court-plaster in the shape of a Maltese cross on his right cheek, and +I with the silk patch over my left eye, caused a general titter through +the room. + +“Silence!” said Mr. Grimshaw, sharply. + +As the reader is already familiar with the leading points in the case of +Bailey versus Conway, I shall not report the trial further than to say +that Adams, Marden, and several other pupils testified to the fact that +Conway had imposed on me ever since my first day at the Temple School. +Their evidence also went to show that Conway was a quarrelsome character +generally. Bad for Conway. Seth Rodgers, on the part of his friend, +proved that I had struck the first blow. That was bad for me. + +“If you please, sir,” said Binny Wallace, holding up his hand for +permission to speak, “Bailey didn't fight on his own account; he fought +on my account, and, if you please, sir, I am the boy to be blamed, for I +was the cause of the trouble.” + +This drew out the story of Conway's harsh treatment of the smaller boys. +As Binny related the wrongs of his playfellows, saying very little +of his own grievances, I noticed that Mr. Grimshaw's hand, unknown to +himself perhaps, rested lightly from time to time on Wallace's sunny +hair. The examination finished, Mr. Grimshaw leaned on the desk +thoughtfully for a moment and then said: + +“Every boy in this school knows that it is against the rules to +fight. If one boy maltreats another, within school-bounds, or within +school-hours, that is a matter for me to settle. The case should be laid +before me. I disapprove of tale-bearing, I never encourage it in +the slightest degree; but when one pupil systematically persecutes a +schoolmate, it is the duty of some head-boy to inform me. No pupil has a +right to take the law into his own hands. If there is any fighting to be +done, I am the person to be consulted. I disapprove of boys' fighting; +it is unnecessary and unchristian. In the present instance, I consider +every large boy in this school at fault, but as the offence is one of +omission rather than commission, my punishment must rest only on the two +boys convicted of misdemeanor. Conway loses his recess for a month, +and Bailey has a page added to his Latin lessons for the next four +recitations. I now request Bailey and Conway to shake hands in the +presence of the school, and acknowledge their regret at what has +occurred.” + +Conway and I approached each other slowly and cautiously, as if we were +bent upon another hostile collision. We clasped hands in the tamest +manner imaginable, and Conway mumbled, “I'm sorry I fought with you.” + +“I think you are,” I replied, drily, “and I'm sorry I had to thrash +you.” + +“You can go to your seats,” said Mr. Grimshaw, turning his face aside to +hide a smile. I am sure my apology was a very good one. + +I never had any more trouble with Conway. He and his shadow, Seth +Rodgers, gave me a wide berth for many months. Nor was Binny Wallace +subjected to further molestation. Miss Abigail's sanitary stores, +including a bottle of opodeldoc, were never called into requisition. The +six black silk patches, with their elastic strings, are still dangling +from a beam in the garret of the Nutter House, waiting for me to get +into fresh difficulties. + + + (1) “Tom Brown's School Days at Rugby” + + + + + +Chapter Eleven--All About Gypsy + + +This record of my life at Rivermouth would be strangely incomplete did I +not devote an entire chapter to Gypsy. I had other pets, of course; for +what healthy boy could long exist without numerous friends in the animal +kingdom? I had two white mice that were forever gnawing their way out +of a pasteboard chateau, and crawling over my face when I lay asleep. I +used to keep the pink-eyed little beggars in my bedroom, greatly to the +annoyance of Miss Abigail, who was constantly fancying that one of the +mice had secreted itself somewhere about her person. + +I also owned a dog, a terrier, who managed in some inscrutable way +to pick a quarrel with the moon, and on bright nights kept up such a +ki-yi-ing in our back garden, that we were finally forced to dispose +of him at private sale. He was purchased by Mr. Oxford, the butcher. +I protested against the arrangement and ever afterwards, when we had +sausages from Mr. Oxford's shop, I made believe I detected in them +certain evidences that Cato had been foully dealt with. + +Of birds I had no end, robins, purple-martins, wrens, bulfinches, +bobolinks, ringdoves, and pigeons. At one time I took solid comfort +in the iniquitous society of a dissipated old parrot, who talked so +terribly, that the Rev. Wibird Hawkins, happening to get a sample of +Poll's vituperative powers, pronounced him “a benighted heathen,” and +advised the Captain to get rid of him. A brace of turtles supplanted +the parrot in my affections; the turtles gave way to rabbits; and the +rabbits in turn yielded to the superior charms of a small monkey, which +the Captain bought of a sailor lately from the coast of Africa. + +But Gypsy was the prime favorite, in spite of many rivals. I never grew +weary of her. She was the most knowing little thing in the world. Her +proper sphere in life--and the one to which she ultimately attained--was +the saw-dust arena of a travelling circus. There was nothing short of +the three R's, reading, 'riting, and 'rithmetic, that Gypsy couldn't be +taught. The gift of speech was not hers, but the faculty of thought was. + +My little friend, to be sure, was not exempt from certain graceful +weaknesses, inseparable, perhaps, from the female character. She was +very pretty, and she knew it. She was also passionately fond of dress--by +which I mean her best harness. When she had this on, her curvetings +and prancings were laughable, though in ordinary tackle she went along +demurely enough. There was something in the enamelled leather and the +silver-washed mountings that chimed with her artistic sense. To have her +mane braided, and a rose or a pansy stuck into her forelock, was to make +her too conceited for anything. + +She had another trait not rare among her sex. She liked the attentions +of young gentlemen, while the society of girls bored her. She would drag +them, sulkily, in the cart; but as for permitting one of them in the +saddle, the idea was preposterous. Once when Pepper Whitcomb's sister, +in spite of our remonstrances, ventured to mount her, Gypsy gave a +little indignant neigh, and tossed the gentle Emma heels over head in no +time. But with any of the boys the mare was as docile as a lamb. + +Her treatment of the several members of the family was comical. For the +Captain she entertained a wholesome respect, and was always on her good +behavior when he was around. As to Miss Abigail, Gypsy simply laughed at +her--literally laughed, contracting her upper lip and displaying all her +snow-white teeth, as if something about Miss Abigail struck her, Gypsy, +as being extremely ridiculous. + +Kitty Collins, for some reason or another, was afraid of the pony, or +pretended to be. The sagacious little animal knew it, of course, and +frequently, when Kitty was banging out clothes near the stable, the mare +being loose in the yard, would make short plunges at her. Once Gypsy +seized the basket of clothespins with her teeth, and rising on her hind +legs, pawing the air with her fore feet followed Kitty clear up to the +scullery steps. + +That part of the yard was shut off from the rest by a gate; but no gate +was proof against Gypsy's ingenuity. She could let down bars, lift up +latches, draw bolts, and turn all sorts of buttons. This accomplishment +rendered it hazardous for Miss Abigail or Kitty to leave any eatables on +the kitchen table near the window. On one occasion Gypsy put in her head +and lapped up six custard pies that had been placed by the casement to +cool. + +An account of my young lady's various pranks would fill a thick +volume. A favorite trick of hers, on being requested to “walk like Miss +Abigail,” was to assume a little skittish gait so true to nature +that Miss Abigail herself was obliged to admit the cleverness of the +imitation. + +The idea of putting Gypsy through a systematic course of instruction +was suggested to me by a visit to the circus which gave an annual +performance in Rivermouth. This show embraced among its attractions a +number of trained Shetland ponies, and I determined that Gypsy should +likewise have the benefit of a liberal education. I succeeded in +teaching her to waltz, to fire a pistol by tugging at a string tied +to the trigger, to lie down dead, to wink one eye, and to execute many +other feats of a difficult nature. She took to her studies admirably, +and enjoyed the whole thing as much as anyone. + +The monkey was a perpetual marvel to Gypsy. They became bosom-friends +in an incredibly brief period, and were never easy out of each other's +sight. Prince Zany--that's what Pepper Whitcomb and I christened him one +day, much to the disgust of the monkey, who bit a piece out of Pepper's +nose--resided in the stable, and went to roost every night on the pony's +back, where I usually found him in the morning. Whenever I rode out, I +was obliged to secure his Highness the Prince with a stout cord to the +fence, he chattering all the time like a madman. + +One afternoon as I was cantering through the crowded part of the town, I +noticed that the people in the street stopped, stared at me, and fell to +laughing. I turned round in the saddle, and there was Zany, with a great +burdock leaf in his paw, perched up behind me on the crupper, as solemn +as a judge. + +After a few months, poor Zany sickened mysteriously, and died. The dark +thought occurred to me then, and comes back to me now with redoubled +force, that Miss Abigail must have given him some hot-drops. Zany left +a large circle of sorrowing friends, if not relatives. Gypsy, I think, +never entirely recovered from the shock occasioned by his early +demise. She became fonder of me, though; and one of her cunningest +demonstrations was to escape from the stable-yard, and trot up to the +door of the Temple Grammar School, where I would discover her at recess +patiently waiting for me, with her fore feet on the second step, and +wisps of straw standing out all over her, like quills upon the fretful +porcupine. + +I should fail if I tried to tell you how dear the pony was to me. Even +hard, unloving men become attached to the horses they take care of; so +I, who was neither unloving nor hard, grew to love every glossy hair of +the pretty little creature that depended on me for her soft straw bed +and her daily modicum of oats. In my prayer at night I never forgot to +mention Gypsy with the rest of the family--generally setting forth her +claims first. + +Whatever relates to Gypsy belongs properly to this narrative; therefore +I offer no apology for rescuing from oblivion, and boldly printing here +a short composition which I wrote in the early part of my first quarter +at the Temple Grammar School. It is my maiden effort in a difficult art, +and is, perhaps, lacking in those graces of thought and style which are +reached only after the severest practice. + +Every Wednesday morning, on entering school, each pupil was expected +to lay his exercise on Mr. Grimshaw's desk; the subject was usually +selected by Mr. Grimshaw himself, the Monday previous. With a humor +characteristic of him, our teacher had instituted two prizes, one for +the best and the other for the worst composition of the month. The first +prize consisted of a penknife, or a pencil-case, or some such article +dear to the heart of youth; the second prize entitled the winner to wear +for an hour or two a sort of conical paper cap, on the front of which +was written, in tall letters, this modest admission: I AM A DUNCE! The +competitor who took prize No. 2. wasn't generally an object of envy. + +My pulse beat high with pride and expectation that Wednesday morning, as +I laid my essay, neatly folded, on the master's table. I firmly decline +to say which prize I won; but here's the composition to speak for +itself. + +It is no small-author vanity that induces me to publish this stray +leaf of natural history. I lay it before our young folks, not for +their admiration, but for their criticism. Let each reader take +his lead-pencil and remorselessly correct the orthography, the +capitalization, and the punctuation of the essay. I shall not feel hurt +at seeing my treatise cut all to pieces; though I think highly of the +production, not on account of its literary excellence, which I candidly +admit is not overpowering, but because it was written years and years +ago about Gypsy, by a little fellow who, when I strive to recall him, +appears to me like a reduced ghost of my present self. + +I am confident that any reader who has ever had pets, birds or animals, +will forgive me for this brief digression. + + + + +Chapter Twelve--Winter at Rivermouth + + +“I guess we're going to have a regular old-fashioned snowstorm,” + said Captain Nutter, one bleak December morning, casting a peculiarly +nautical glance skyward. + +The Captain was always hazarding prophecies about the weather, which +somehow never turned out according to his prediction. The vanes on the +church-steeples seemed to take fiendish pleasure in humiliating the +dear old gentleman. If he said it was going to be a clear day, a dense +sea-fog was pretty certain to set in before noon. Once he caused a +protracted drought by assuring us every morning, for six consecutive +weeks, that it would rain in a few hours. But, sure enough, that +afternoon it began snowing. + +Now I had not seen a snow-storm since I was eighteen months old, and of +course remembered nothing about it. A boy familiar from his infancy with +the rigors of our New England winters can form no idea of the impression +made on me by this natural phenomenon. My delight and surprise were as +boundless as if the heavy gray sky had let down a shower of pond +lilies and white roses, instead of snow-flakes. It happened to be a +half-holiday, so I had nothing to do but watch the feathery crystals +whirling hither and thither through the air. I stood by the sitting-room +window gazing at the wonder until twilight shut out the novel scene. + +We had had several slight flurries of hail and snow before, but this was +a regular nor'easter. + +Several inches of snow had already fallen. The rose-bushes at the door +drooped with the weight of their magical blossoms, and the two posts +that held the garden gate were transformed into stately Turks, with +white turbans, guarding the entrance to the Nutter House. + +The storm increased at sundown, and continued with unabated violence +through the night. The next morning, when I jumped out of bed, the sun +was shining brightly, the cloudless heavens wore the tender azure of +June, and the whole earth lay muffled up to the eyes, as it were, in a +thick mantle of milk-white down. + +It was a very deep snow. The Oldest Inhabitant (what would become of a +New England town or village without its oldest Inhabitant?) overhauled +his almanacs, and pronounced it the deepest snow we had had for twenty +years. It couldn't have been much deeper without smothering us all. +Our street was a sight to be seen, or, rather, it was a sight not to +be seen; for very little street was visible. One huge drift completely +banked up our front door and half covered my bedroom window. + +There was no school that day, for all the thoroughfares were impassable. +By twelve o'clock, however, the great snowploughs, each drawn by four +yokes of oxen, broke a wagon-path through the principal streets; but the +foot-passengers had a hard time of it floundering in the arctic drifts. + +The Captain and I cut a tunnel, three feet wide and six feet high, from +our front door to the sidewalk opposite. It was a beautiful cavern, with +its walls and roof inlaid with mother-of-pearl and diamonds. I am sure +the ice palace of the Russian Empress, in Cowper's poem, was not a more +superb piece of architecture. + +The thermometer began falling shortly before sunset and we had the +bitterest cold night I ever experienced. This brought out the Oldest +Inhabitant again the next day--and what a gay old boy he was for deciding +everything! Our tunnel was turned into solid ice. A crust thick enough +to bear men and horses had formed over the snow everywhere, and the air +was alive with merry sleigh-bells. Icy stalactites, a yard long, bung +from the eaves of the house, and the Turkish sentinels at the gate +looked as if they had given up all hopes of ever being relieved from +duty. + +So the winter set in cold and glittering. Everything out-of-doors was +sheathed in silver mail. To quote from Charley Marden, it was “cold +enough to freeze the tail off a brass monkey,”--an observation which +seemed to me extremely happy, though I knew little or nothing concerning +the endurance of brass monkeys, having never seen one. + +I had looked forward to the advent of the season with grave +apprehensions, nerving myself to meet dreary nights and monotonous +days; but summer itself was not more jolly than winter at Rivermouth. +Snow-balling at school, skating on the Mill Pond, coasting by moonlight, +long rides behind Gypsy in a brand-new little sleigh built expressly for +her, were sports no less exhilarating than those which belonged to the +sunny months. And then Thanksgiving! The nose of Memory--why shouldn't +Memory have a nose?--dilates with pleasure over the rich perfume of Miss +Abigail's forty mince-pies, each one more delightful than the other, +like the Sultan's forty wives. Christmas was another red-letter day, +though it was not so generally observed in New England as it is now. + +The great wood-fire in the tiled chimney-place made our sitting-room +very cheerful of winter nights. When the north-wind howled about +the eaves, and the sharp fingers of the sleet tapped against the +window-panes, it was nice to be so warmly sheltered from the storm. A +dish of apples and a pitcher of chilly cider were always served during +the evening. The Captain had a funny way of leaning back in the chair, +and eating his apple with his eyes closed. Sometimes I played dominos +with him, and sometimes Miss Abigail read aloud to us, pronouncing “to” + toe, and sounding all the eds. + +In a former chapter I alluded to Miss Abigail's managing propensities. +She had affected many changes in the Nutter House before I came there +to live; but there was one thing against which she had long contended +without being able to overcome. This was the Captain's pipe. On +first taking command of the household, she prohibited smoking in the +sitting-room, where it had been the old gentleman's custom to take a +whiff or two of the fragrant weed after meals. The edict went forth--and +so did the pipe. An excellent move, no doubt; but then the house was +his, and if he saw fit to keep a tub of tobacco burning in the middle of +the parlor floor, he had a perfect right to do so. However, he humored +her in this as in other matters, and smoked by stealth, like a guilty +creature, in the barn, or about the gardens. That was practicable in +summer, but in winter the Captain was hard put to it. When he couldn't +stand it longer, he retreated to his bedroom and barricaded the door. +Such was the position of affairs at the time of which I write. + +One morning, a few days after the great snow, as Miss Abigail was +dusting the chronometer in the ball, she beheld Captain Nutter slowly +descending the staircase, with a long clay pipe in his mouth. Miss +Abigail could hardly credit her own eyes. + +“Dan'el!” she gasped, retiring heavily on the hat-rack. + +The tone of reproach with which this word was uttered failed to produce +the slightest effect on the Captain, who merely removed the pipe from +his lips for an instant, and blew a cloud into the chilly air. The +thermometer stood at two degrees below zero in our hall. + +“Dan'el!” cried Miss Abigail, hysterically--“Dan'el, don't come near me!” + Whereupon she fainted away; for the smell of tobacco-smoke always made +her deadly sick. + +Kitty Collins rushed from the kitchen with a basin of water, and set to +work bathing Miss Abigail's temples and chafing her hands. I thought +my grandfather rather cruel, as he stood there with a half-smile on his +countenance, complacently watching Miss Abigail's sufferings. When she +was “brought to,” the Captain sat down beside her, and, with a lovely +twinkle in his eye, said softly: + +“Abigail, my dear, there wasn't any tobacco in that Pipe! It was a new +pipe. I fetched it down for Tom to blow soap-bubbles with.” + +At these words Kitty Collins hurried away, her features-working +strangely. Several minutes later I came upon her in the scullery with +the greater portion of a crash towel stuffed into her mouth. “Miss +Abygil smelt the terbacca with her oi!” cried Kitty, partially removing +the cloth, and then immediately stopping herself up again. + +The Captain's joke furnished us--that is, Kitty and me--with mirth for +many a day; as to Miss Abigail, I think she never wholly pardoned +him. After this, Captain Nutter gradually gave up smoking, which is an +untidy, injurious, disgraceful, and highly pleasant habit. + +A boy's life in a secluded New England town in winter does not afford +many points for illustration. Of course he gets his ears or toes +frost-bitten; of course he smashes his sled against another boy's; of +course be bangs his bead on the ice; and he's a lad of no enterprise +whatever, if he doesn't manage to skate into an eel-hole, and be brought +home half drowned. All these things happened to me; but, as they lack +novelty, I pass them over, to tell you about the famous snow-fort which +we built on Slatter's Hill. + + + + +Chapter Thirteen--The Snow Fort on Slatter's Hill + + +The memory of man, even that of the Oldest Inhabitant, runneth not back +to the time when there did not exist a feud between the North End and +the South End boys of Rivermouth. + +The origin of the feud is involved in mystery; it is impossible to say +which party was the first aggressor in the far-off anterevolutionary +ages; but the fact remains that the youngsters of those antipodal +sections entertained a mortal hatred for each other, and that this +hatred had been handed down from generation to generation, like Miles +Standish's punch-bowl. + +I know not what laws, natural or unnatural, regulated the warmth of the +quarrel; but at some seasons it raged more violently than at others. +This winter both parties were unusually lively and antagonistic. +Great was the wrath of the South-Enders, when they discovered that the +North-Enders had thrown up a fort on the crown of Slatter's Hill. + +Slatter's Hill, or No-man's-land, as it was generally called, was a +rise of ground covering, perhaps, an acre and a quarter, situated on +an imaginary line, marking the boundary between the two districts. An +immense stratum of granite, which here and there thrust out a wrinkled +boulder, prevented the site from being used for building purposes. The +street ran on either side of the hill, from one part of which a quantity +of rock had been removed to form the underpinning of the new jail. +This excavation made the approach from that point all but impossible, +especially when the ragged ledges were a-glitter with ice. You see what +a spot it was for a snow-fort. + +One evening twenty or thirty of the North-Enders quietly took possession +of Slatter's Hill, and threw up a strong line of breastworks, something +after this shape: + +(Ft Slatter graphic) + +The rear of the entrenchment, being protected by the quarry, was left +open. The walls were four feet high, and twenty-two inches thick, +strengthened at the angles by stakes driven firmly into the ground. + +Fancy the rage of the South-Enders the next day, when they spied our +snowy citadel, with Jack Harris's red silk pocket handkerchief floating +defiantly from the flag-staff. + +In less than an hour it was known all over town, in military circles at +least, that the “Puddle-dockers” and the “River-rats” (these were the +derisive sub-titles bestowed on our South-End foes) intended to attack +the fort that Saturday afternoon. + +At two o'clock all the fighting boys of the Temple Grammar School, +and as many recruits as we could muster, lay behind the walls of Fort +Slatter, with three hundred compact snowballs piled up in pyramids, +awaiting the approach of the enemy. The enemy was not slow in making his +approach--fifty strong, headed by one Mat Ames. Our forces were under the +command of General J. Harris. + +Before the action commenced, a meeting was arranged between the rival +commanders, who drew up and signed certain rules and regulations +respecting the conduct of the battle. As it was impossible for the +North-Enders to occupy the fort permanently, it was stipulated that the +South-Enders should assault it only on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons +between the hours of two and six. For them to take possession of the +place at any other time was not to constitute a capture, but on the +contrary was to be considered a dishonorable and cowardly act. + +The North-Enders, on the other hand, agreed to give up the fort whenever +ten of the storming party succeeded in obtaining at one time a footing +on the parapet, and were able to hold the same for the space of two +minutes. Both sides were to abstain from putting pebbles into their +snow-balls, nor was it permissible to use frozen ammunition. A snow-ball +soaked in water and left out to cool was a projectile which in previous +years had been resorted to with disastrous results. + +These preliminaries settled, the commanders retired to their respective +corps. The interview had taken place on the hillside between the +opposing lines. + +General Harris divided his men into two bodies; the first comprised the +most skilful marksmen, or gunners; the second, the reserve force, was +composed of the strongest boys, whose duty it was to repel the scaling +parties, and to make occasional sallies for the purpose of capturing +prisoners, who were bound by the articles of treaty to faithfully serve +under our flag until they were exchanged at the close of the day. + +The repellers were called light infantry; but when they carried on +operations beyond the fort they became cavalry. It was also their duty, +when not otherwise engaged, to manufacture snow-balls. The General's +staff consisted of five Templars (I among the number, with the rank of +Major), who carried the General's orders and looked after the wounded. + +General Mat Ames, a veteran commander, was no less wide-awake in the +disposition of his army. Five companies, each numbering but six men, +in order not to present too big a target to our sharpshooters, were to +charge the fort from different points, their advance being covered by a +heavy fire from the gunners posted in the rear. Each scaler was provided +with only two rounds of ammunition, which were not to be used until he +had mounted the breastwork and could deliver his shots on our heads. + +The drawing below represents the interior of the fort just previous to +the assault. Nothing on earth could represent the state of things after +the first volley. + +(Fort Slatter detail graphic) + +The thrilling moment had now arrived. If I had been going into a real +engagement I could not have been more deeply impressed by the importance +of the occasion. + +The fort opened fire first--a single ball from the dexterous band of +General Harris taking General Ames in the very pit of his stomach. A +cheer went up from Fort Slatter. In an instant the air was thick with +flying missiles, in the midst of which we dimly descried the storming +parties sweeping up the hill, shoulder to shoulder. The shouts of the +leaders, and the snowballs bursting like shells about our ears, made it +very lively. + +Not more than a dozen of the enemy succeeded in reaching the crest of +the hill; five of these clambered upon the icy walls, where they were +instantly grabbed by the legs and jerked into the fort. The rest retired +confused and blinded by our well-directed fire. + +When General Harris (with his right eye bunged up) said, “Soldiers, I am +proud of you!” my heart swelled in my bosom. + +The victory, however, had not been without its price. Six North-Enders, +having rushed out to harass the discomfited enemy, were gallantly +cut off by General Ames and captured. Among these were Lieutenant P. +Whitcomb (who had no business to join in the charge, being weak in the +knees), and Captain Fred Langdon, of General Harris's staff. Whitcomb +was one of the most notable shots on our side, though he was not much +to boast of in a rough-and-tumble fight, owing to the weakness before +mentioned. General Ames put him among the gunners, and we were quickly +made aware of the loss we had sustained, by receiving a frequent artful +ball which seemed to light with unerring instinct on any nose that was +the least bit exposed. I have known one of Pepper's snow-balls, fired +pointblank, to turn a corner and hit a boy who considered himself +absolutely safe. + +But we had no time for vain regrets. The battle raged. Already there +were two bad cases of black eye, and one of nosebleed, in the hospital. + +It was glorious excitement, those pell-mell onslaughts and hand-to-hand +struggles. Twice we were within an ace of being driven from our +stronghold, when General Harris and his staff leaped recklessly upon the +ramparts and hurled the besiegers heels over head down hill. + +At sunset, the garrison of Fort Slatter was still unconquered, and the +South-Enders, in a solid phalanx, marched off whistling “Yankee Doodle,” + while we cheered and jeered them until they were out of hearing. + +General Ames remained behind to effect an exchange of prisoners. We held +thirteen of his men, and he eleven of ours. General Ames proposed to +call it an even thing, since many of his eleven prisoners were officers, +while nearly all our thirteen captives were privates. A dispute arising +on this point, the two noble generals came to fisticuffs, and in +the fracas our brave commander got his remaining well eye badly damaged. +This didn't prevent him from writing a general order the next day, on a +slate, in which he complimented the troops on their heroic behavior. + +On the following Wednesday the siege was renewed. I forget whether it +was on that afternoon or the next that we lost Fort Slatter; but lose it +we did, with much valuable ammunition and several men. After a series +of desperate assaults, we forced General Ames to capitulate; and he, in +turn, made the place too hot to hold us. So from day to day the tide +of battle surged to and fro, sometimes favoring our arms, and sometimes +those of the enemy. + +General Ames handled his men with great skill; his deadliest foe could +not deny that. Once he outgeneralled our commander in the following +manner: He massed his gunners on our left and opened a brisk fire, under +cover of which a single company (six men) advanced on that angle of the +fort. Our reserves on the right rushed over to defend the threatened +point. Meanwhile, four companies of the enemy's scalers made a detour +round the foot of the hill, and dashed into Fort Slatter without +opposition. At the same moment General Ames's gunners closed in on our +left, and there we were between two fires. Of course we had to vacate +the fort. A cloud rested on General Harris's military reputation until +his superior tactics enabled him to dispossess the enemy. + +As the winter wore on, the war-spirit waxed fiercer and fiercer. At +length the provision against using heavy substances in the snow-balls +was disregarded. A ball stuck full of sand-bird shot came tearing into +Fort Slatter. In retaliation, General Harris ordered a broadside of +shells; i. e. snow-balls containing marbles. After this, both sides +never failed to freeze their ammunition. + +It was no longer child's play to march up to the walls of Fort Slatter, +nor was the position of the besieged less perilous. At every assault +three or four boys on each side were disabled. It was not an infrequent +occurrence for the combatants to hold up a flag of truce while they +removed some insensible comrade. + +Matters grew worse and worse. Seven North-Enders had been seriously +wounded, and a dozen South-Enders were reported on the sick list. +The selectmen of the town awoke to the fact of what was going on, and +detailed a posse of police to prevent further disturbance. The boys at +the foot of the hill, South-Enders as it happened, finding themselves +assailed in the rear and on the flank, turned round and attempted +to beat off the watchmen. In this they were sustained by numerous +volunteers from the fort, who looked upon the interference as +tyrannical. + +The watch were determined fellows, and charged the boys valiantly, +driving them all into the fort, where we made common cause, fighting +side by side like the best of friends. In vain the four guardians of the +peace rushed up the hill, flourishing their clubs and calling upon us to +surrender. They could not get within ten yards of the fort, our fire was +so destructive. In one of the onsets a man named Mugridge, more valorous +than his peers, threw himself upon the parapet, when he was seized by +twenty pairs of hands, and dragged inside the breastwork, where fifteen +boys sat down on him to keep him quiet. + +Perceiving that it was impossible with their small number to dislodge +us, the watch sent for reinforcements. Their call was responded to, not +only by the whole constabulary force (eight men), but by a numerous +body of citizens, who had become alarmed at the prospect of a riot. This +formidable array brought us to our senses: we began to think that maybe +discretion was the better part of valor. General Harris and General +Ames, with their respective staffs, held a council of war in the +hospital, and a backward movement was decided on. So, after one grand +farewell volley, we fled, sliding, jumping, rolling, tumbling down the +quarry at the rear of the fort, and escaped without losing a man. + +But we lost Fort Slatter forever. Those battle-scarred ramparts were +razed to the ground, and humiliating ashes sprinkled over the historic +spot, near which a solitary lynx-eyed policeman was seen prowling from +time to time during the rest of the winter. + +The event passed into a legend, and afterwards, when later instances of +pluck and endurance were spoken of, the boys would say, “By golly! You +ought to have been at the fights on Slatter's Hill!” + + + + +Chapter Fourteen--The Cruise of the Dolphin + + +It was spring again. The snow had faded away like a dream, and we were +awakened, so to speak, by the sudden chirping of robins in our back +garden. Marvellous transformation of snowdrifts into lilacs, wondrous +miracle of the unfolding leaf! We read in the Holy Book how our Saviour, +at the marriage-feast, changed the water into wine; we pause and wonder; +but every hour a greater miracle is wrought at our very feet, if we have +but eyes to see it. + +I had now been a year at Rivermouth. If you do not know what sort of boy +I was, it is not because I haven't been frank with you. Of my progress +at school I say little; for this is a story, pure and simple, and not +a treatise on education. Behold me, however, well up in most of the +classes. I have worn my Latin grammar into tatters, and am in the first +book of Virgil. I interlard my conversation at home with easy quotations +from that poet, and impress Captain Nutter with a lofty notion of my +learning. I am likewise translating Les Aventures de Telemaque from the +French, and shall tackle Blair's Lectures the next term. I am ashamed of +my crude composition about The Horse, and can do better now. Sometimes +my head almost aches with the variety of my knowledge. I consider Mr. +Grimshaw the greatest scholar that ever lived, and I don't know which I +would rather be--a learned man like him, or a circus rider. + +My thoughts revert to this particular spring more frequently than to any +other period of my boyhood, for it was marked by an event that left an +indelible impression on my memory. As I pen these pages, I feel that +I am writing of something which happened yesterday, so vividly it all +comes back to me. + +Every Rivermouth boy looks upon the sea as being in some way mixed up +with his destiny. While he is yet a baby lying in his cradle, he hears +the dull, far-off boom of the breakers; when he is older, he wanders by +the sandy shore, watching the waves that come plunging up the beach +like white-maned seahorses, as Thoreau calls them; his eye follows the +lessening sail as it fades into the blue horizon, and he burns for the +time when he shall stand on the quarter-deck of his own ship, and go +sailing proudly across that mysterious waste of waters. + +Then the town itself is full of hints and flavors of the sea. The gables +and roofs of the houses facing eastward are covered with red rust, like +the flukes of old anchors; a salty smell pervades the air, and dense +gray fogs, the very breath of Ocean, periodically creep up into the +quiet streets and envelop everything. The terrific storms that lash +the coast; the kelp and spars, and sometimes the bodies of drowned men, +tossed on shore by the scornful waves; the shipyards, the wharves, and +the tawny fleet of fishing-smacks yearly fitted out at Rivermouth--these +things, and a hundred other, feed the imagination and fill the brain of +every healthy boy with dreams of adventure. He learns to swim almost +as soon as he can walk; he draws in with his mother's milk the art of +handling an oar: he is born a sailor, whatever he may turn out to be +afterwards. + +To own the whole or a portion of a row-boat is his earliest ambition. +No wonder that I, born to this life, and coming back to it with freshest +sympathies, should have caught the prevailing infection. No wonder I +longed to buy a part of the trim little sailboat Dolphin, which chanced +just then to be in the market. This was in the latter part of May. + +Three shares, at five or six dollars each, I forget which, had already +been taken by Phil Adams, Fred Langdon, and Binny Wallace. The fourth +and remaining share hung fire. Unless a purchaser could be found for +this, the bargain was to fall through. + +I am afraid I required but slight urging to join in the investment. +I had four dollars and fifty cents on hand, and the treasurer of the +Centipedes advanced me the balance, receiving my silver pencil-case as +ample security. It was a proud moment when I stood on the wharf with my +partners, inspecting the Dolphin, moored at the foot of a very slippery +flight of steps. She was painted white with a green stripe outside, and +on the stern a yellow dolphin, with its scarlet mouth wide open, stared +with a surprised expression at its own reflection in the water. The boat +was a great bargain. + +I whirled my cap in the air, and ran to the stairs leading down from the +wharf, when a hand was laid gently on my shoulder. I turned and faced +Captain Nutter. I never saw such an old sharp-eye as he was in those +days. + +I knew he wouldn't be angry with me for buying a rowboat; but I also +knew that the little bowsprit suggesting a jib, and the tapering mast +ready for its few square feet of canvas, were trifles not likely to +meet his approval. As far as rowing on the river, among the wharves, was +concerned, the Captain had long since withdrawn his decided objections, +having convinced himself, by going out with me several times, that I +could manage a pair of sculls as well as anybody. + +I was right in my surmises. He commanded me, in the most emphatic +terms, never to go out in the Dolphin without leaving the mast in the +boat-house. This curtailed my anticipated sport, but the pleasure of +having a pull whenever I wanted it remained. I never disobeyed the +Captain's orders touching the sail, though I sometimes extended my row +beyond the points he had indicated. + +The river was dangerous for sailboats. Squalls, without the slightest +warning, were of frequent occurrence; scarcely a year passed that six or +seven persons were not drowned under the very windows of the town, and +these, oddly enough, were generally sea-captains, who either did not +understand the river, or lacked the skill to handle a small craft. + +A knowledge of such disasters, one of which I witnessed, consoled me +somewhat when I saw Phil Adams skimming over the water in a spanking +breeze with every stitch of canvas set. There were few better yachtsmen +than Phil Adams. He usually went sailing alone, for both Fred Langdon +and Binny Wallace were under the same restrictions I was. + +Not long after the purchase of the boat, we planned an excursion to +Sandpeep Island, the last of the islands in the harbor. We proposed to +start early in the morning, and return with the tide in the moonlight. +Our only difficulty was to obtain a whole day's exemption from school, +the customary half-holiday not being long enough for our picnic. +Somehow, we couldn't work it; but fortune arranged it for us. I may +say here, that, whatever else I did, I never played truant (“hookey” we +called it) in my life. + +One afternoon the four owners of the Dolphin exchanged significant +glances when Mr. Grimshaw announced from the desk that there would be +no school the following day, he having just received intelligence of the +death of his uncle in Boston I was sincerely attached to Mr. Grimshaw, +but I am afraid that the death of his uncle did not affect me as it +ought to have done. + +We were up before sunrise the next morning, in order to take advantage +of the flood tide, which waits for no man. Our preparations for the +cruise were made the previous evening. In the way of eatables and +drinkables, we had stored in the stem of the Dolphin a generous bag +of hard-tack (for the chowder), a piece of pork to fry the cunners in, +three gigantic apple-pies (bought at Pettingil's), half a dozen lemons, +and a keg of spring-water--the last-named article we slung over the +side, to keep it cool, as soon as we got under way. The crockery and +the bricks for our camp-stove we placed in the bows, with the groceries, +which included sugar, pepper, salt, and a bottle of pickles. Phil Adams +contributed to the outfit a small tent of unbleached cotton cloth, under +which we intended to take our nooning. + +We unshipped the mast, threw in an extra oar, and were ready to embark. +I do not believe that Christopher Columbus, when he started on his +rather successful voyage of discovery, felt half the responsibility +and importance that weighed upon me as I sat on the middle seat of the +Dolphin, with my oar resting in the row-lock. I wonder if Christopher +Columbus quietly slipped out of the house without letting his estimable +family know what he was up to? + +Charley Marden, whose father had promised to cane him if he ever stepped +foot on sail or rowboat, came down to the wharf in a sour-grape humor, +to see us off. Nothing would tempt him to go out on the river in such +a crazy clam-shell of a boat. He pretended that he did not expect +to behold us alive again, and tried to throw a wet blanket over the +expedition. + +“Guess you'll have a squally time of it,” said Charley, casting off +the painter. “I'll drop in at old Newbury's” (Newbury was the parish +undertaker) “and leave word, as I go along!” + +“Bosh!” muttered Phil Adams, sticking the boat-hook into the +string-piece of the wharf, and sending the Dolphin half a dozen yards +towards the current. + +How calm and lovely the river was! Not a ripple stirred on the glassy +surface, broken only by the sharp cutwater of our tiny craft. The sun, +as round and red as an August moon, was by this time peering above the +water-line. + +The town had drifted behind us, and we were entering among the group of +islands. Sometimes we could almost touch with our boat-hook the shelving +banks on either side. As we neared the mouth of the harbor a little +breeze now and then wrinkled the blue water, shook the spangles from +the foliage, and gently lifted the spiral mist-wreaths that still clung +along shore. The measured dip of our oars and the drowsy twitterings +of the birds seemed to mingle with, rather than break, the enchanted +silence that reigned about us. + +The scent of the new clover comes back to me now, as I recall that +delicious morning when we floated away in a fairy boat down a river like +a dream! + +The sun was well up when the nose of the Dolphin nestled against the +snow-white bosom of Sandpeep Island. This island, as I have said before, +was the last of the cluster, one side of it being washed by the sea. We +landed on the river-side, the sloping sands and quiet water affording us +a good place to moor the boat. + +It took us an hour or two to transport our stores to the spot selected +for the encampment. Having pitched our tent, using the five oars to +support the canvas, we got out our lines, and went down the rocks +seaward to fish. It was early for cunners, but we were lucky enough to +catch as nice a mess as ever you saw. A cod for the chowder was not so +easily secured. At last Binny Wallace hauled in a plump little fellow +crusted all over with flaky silver. + +To skin the fish, build our fireplace, and cook the chowder kept us +busy the next two hours. The fresh air and the exercise had given us the +appetites of wolves, and we were about famished by the time the savory +mixture was ready for our clamshell saucers. + +I shall not insult the rising generation on the seaboard by telling them +how delectable is a chowder compounded and eaten in this Robinson Crusoe +fashion. As for the boys who live inland, and know naught of such marine +feasts, my heart is full of pity for them. What wasted lives! Not to +know the delights of a clam-bake, not to love chowder, to be ignorant of +lob-scouse! + +How happy we were, we four, sitting crosslegged in the crisp salt grass, +with the invigorating sea-breeze blowing gratefully through our hair! +What a joyous thing was life, and how far off seemed death--death, that +lurks in all pleasant places, and was so near! + +The banquet finished, Phil Adams drew from his pocket a handful of +sweet-fern cigars; but as none of the party could indulge without +imminent risk of becoming sick, we all, on one pretext or another, +declined, and Phil smoked by himself. + +The wind had freshened by this, and we found it comfortable to put +on the jackets which had been thrown aside in the heat of the day. +We strolled along the beach and gathered large quantities of the +fairy-woven Iceland moss, which, at certain seasons, is washed to these +shores; then we played at ducks and drakes, and then, the sun being +sufficiently low, we went in bathing. + +Before our bath was ended a slight change had come over the sky and sea; +fleecy-white clouds scudded here and there, and a muffled moan from the +breakers caught our ears from time to time. While we were dressing, a +few hurried drops of rain came lisping down, and we adjourned to the +tent to await the passing of the squall. + +“We're all right, anyhow,” said Phil Adams. “It won't be much of a blow, +and we'll be as snug as a bug in a rug, here in the tent, particularly +if we have that lemonade which some of you fellows were going to make.” + +By an oversight, the lemons had been left in the boat. Binny Wallace +volunteered to go for them. + +“Put an extra stone on the painter, Binny,” said Adams, calling after +him; “it would be awkward to have the Dolphin give us the slip and +return to port minus her passengers.” + +“That it would,” answered Binny, scrambling down the rocks. + +Sandpeep Island is diamond-shaped--one point running out into the sea, +and the other looking towards the town. Our tent was on the river-side. +Though the Dolphin was also on the same side, it lay out of sight by the +beach at the farther extremity of the island. + +Binny Wallace had been absent five or six minutes, when we heard him +calling our several names in tones that indicated distress or surprise, +we could not tell which. Our first thought was, “The boat has broken +adrift!” + +We sprung to our feet and hastened down to the beach. On turning the +bluff which hid the mooring-place from our view, we found the conjecture +correct. Not only was the Dolphin afloat, but poor little Binny Wallace +was standing in the bows with his arms stretched helplessly towards +us--drifting out to sea! + +“Head the boat in shore!” shouted Phil Adams. + +Wallace ran to the tiller; but the slight cockle-shell merely swung +round and drifted broadside on. O, if we had but left a single scull in +the Dolphin! + +“Can you swim it?” cried Adams, desperately, using his hand as a +speaking-trumpet, for the distance between the boat and the island +widened momentarily. + +Binny Wallace looked down at the sea, which was covered with white caps, +and made a despairing gesture. He knew, and we knew, that the stoutest +swimmer could not live forty seconds in those angry waters. + +A wild, insane light came into Phil Adams's eyes, as he stood knee-deep +in the boiling surf, and for an instant I think he meditated plunging +into the ocean after the receding boat. + +The sky darkened, and an ugly look stole rapidly over the broken surface +of the sea. + +Binny Wallace half rose from his seat in the stem, and waved his hand +to us in token of farewell. In spite of the distance, increasing every +instant we could see his face plainly. The anxious expression it wore +at first had passed. It was pale and meek now, and I love to think there +was a kind of halo about it, like that which painters place around the +forehead of a saint. So he drifted away. + +The sky grew darker and darker. It was only by straining our eyes +through the unnatural twilight that we could keep the Dolphin in sight. +The figure of Binny Wallace was no longer visible, for the boat itself +had dwindled to a mere white dot on the black water. Now we lost it, and +our hearts stopped throbbing; and now the speck appeared again, for an +instant, on the crest of a high wave. + +Finally, it went out like a spark, and we saw it no more. Then we gazed +at each other, and dared not speak. + +Absorbed in following the course of the boat, we had scarcely noticed +the huddled inky clouds that sagged down all around us. From these +threatening masses, seamed at intervals with pale lightning, there now +burst a heavy peal of thunder that shook the ground under our feet. A +sudden squall struck the sea, ploughing deep white furrows into it, and +at the same instant a single piercing shriek rose above the tempest--the +frightened cry of a gull swooping over the island. How it startled us! + +It was impossible any longer to keep our footing on the beach. The wind +and the breakers would have swept us into the ocean if we had not clung +to each other with the desperation of drowning men. Taking advantage of +a momentary lull, we crawled up the sands on our hands and knees, and, +pausing in the lee of the granite ledge to gain breath, returned to the +camp, where we found that the gale had snapped all the fastenings of +the tent but one. Held by this, the puffed-out canvas swayed in the wind +like a balloon. It was a task of some difficulty to secure it, which we +did by beating down the canvas with the oars. + +After several trials, we succeeded in setting up the tent on the leeward +side of the ledge. Blinded by the vivid flashes of lightning, and +drenched by the rain, which fell in torrents, we crept, half dead with +fear and anguish, under our flimsy shelter. Neither the anguish nor the +fear was on our own account, for we were comparatively safe, but for +poor little Binny Wallace, driven out to sea in the merciless gale. We +shuddered to think of him in that frail shell, drifting on and on to his +grave, the sky rent with lightning over his head, and the green abysses +yawning beneath him. We fell to crying, the three of us, and cried I +know not how long. + +Meanwhile the storm raged with augmented fury. We were obliged to hold +on to the ropes of the tent to prevent it blowing away. The spray +from the river leaped several yards up the rocks and clutched at us +malignantly. The very island trembled with the concussions of the sea +beating upon it, and at times I fancied that it had broken loose from +its foundation, and was floating off with us. The breakers, streaked +with angry phosphorus, were fearful to look at. + +The wind rose higher and higher, cutting long slits in the tent, through +which the rain poured incessantly. To complete the sum of our miseries, +the night was at hand. It came down suddenly, at last, like a curtain, +shutting in Sandpeep island from all the world. + +It was a dirty night, as the sailors say. The darkness was something +that could be felt as well as seen--it pressed down upon one with a cold, +clammy touch. Gazing into the hollow blackness, all sorts of imaginable +shapes seemed to start forth from vacancy--brilliant colors, stars, +prisms, and dancing lights. What boy, lying awake at night, has not +amused or terrified himself by peopling the spaces around his bed with +these phenomena of his own eyes? + +“I say,” whispered Fred Langdon, at length, clutching my hand, “don't +you see things--out there--in the dark?” + +“Yes, yes--Binny Wallace's face!” + +I added to my own nervousness by making this avowal; though for the +last ten minutes I had seen little besides that star-pale face with +its angelic hair and brows. First a slim yellow circle, like the nimbus +round the moon, took shape and grew sharp against the darkness; then +this faded gradually, and there was the Face, wearing the same sad, +sweet look it wore when he waved his hand to us across the awful water. +This optical illusion kept repeating itself. + +“And I too,” said Adams. “I see it every now and then, outside there. +What wouldn't I give if it really was poor little Wallace looking in at +us! O boys, how shall we dare to go back to the town without him? I've +wished a hundred times, since we've been sitting here, that I was in his +place, alive or dead!” + +We dreaded the approach of morning as much as we longed for it. The +morning would tell us all. Was it possible for the Dolphin to outride +such a storm? There was a light-house on Mackerel Reef, which lay +directly in the course the boat had taken, when it disappeared. If the +Dolphin had caught on this reef, perhaps Binny Wallace was safe. Perhaps +his cries had been heard by the keeper of the light. The man owned a +lifeboat, and had rescued several people. Who could tell? + +Such were the questions we asked ourselves again and again, as we lay in +each other's arms waiting for daybreak. What an endless night it was! I +have known months that did not seem so long. + +Our position was irksome rather than perilous; for the day was certain +to bring us relief from the town, where our prolonged absence, together +with the storm, had no doubt excited the liveliest alarm for our safety. +But the cold, the darkness, and the suspense were hard to bear. + +Our soaked jackets had chilled us to the bone. To keep warm, we lay +huddled together so closely that we could bear our hearts beat above the +tumult of sea and sky. + +After a while we grew very hungry, not having broken our fast since +early in the day. The rain had turned the hard-tack into a sort of +dough; but it was better than nothing. + +We used to laugh at Fred Langdon for always carrying in his pocket a +small vial of essence of peppermint or sassafras, a few drops of which, +sprinkled on a lump of loaf-sugar, he seemed to consider a great luxury. +I don't know what would have become of us at this crisis, if it hadn't +been for that omnipresent bottle of hot stuff. We poured the stinging +liquid over our sugar, which had kept dry in a sardine-box, and warmed +ourselves with frequent doses. + +After four or five hours the rain ceased, the wind died away to a moan, +and the sea--no longer raging like a maniac--sobbed and sobbed with a +piteous human voice all along the coast. And well it might, after that +night's work. Twelve sail of the Gloucester fishing fleet had gone down +with every soul on board, just outside of Whale's-back Light. Think of +the wide grief that follows in the wake of one wreck; then think of the +despairing women who wrung their hands and wept, the next morning, in +the streets of Gloucester, Marblehead, and Newcastle! + +Though our strength was nearly spent, we were too cold to sleep. Once +I sunk into a troubled doze, when I seemed to bear Charley Marden's +parting words, only it was the Sea that said them. After that I threw +off the drowsiness whenever it threatened to overcome me. + +Fred Langdon was the earliest to discover a filmy, luminous streak in +the sky, the first glimmering of sunrise. + +“Look, it is nearly daybreak!” + +While we were following the direction of his finger, a sound of distant +oars fell on our ears. + +We listened breathlessly, and as the dip of the blades became more +audible, we discerned two foggy lights, like will-o'the-wisps, floating +on the river. + +Running down to the water's edge, we hailed the boats with all +our might. The call was heard, for the oars rested a moment in the +row-locks, and then pulled in towards the island. + +It was two boats from the town, in the foremost of which we could now +make out the figures of Captain Nutter and Binny Wallace's father. We +shrunk back on seeing him. + +“Thank God!” cried Mr. Wallace, fervently, as he leaped from the wherry +without waiting for the bow to touch the beach. + +But when he saw only three boys standing on the sands, his eye wandered +restlessly about in quest of the fourth; then a deadly pallor overspread +his features. + +Our story was soon told. A solemn silence fell upon the crowd of rough +boatmen gathered round, interrupted only by a stifled sob from one poor +old man, who stood apart from the rest. + +The sea was still running too high for any small boat to venture out; so +it was arranged that the wherry should take us back to town, leaving the +yawl, with a picked crew, to hug the island until daybreak, and then set +forth in search of the Dolphin. + +Though it was barely sunrise when we reached town, there were a great +many people assembled at the landing eager for intelligence from missing +boats. Two picnic parties had started down river the day before, just +previous to the gale, and nothing had been beard of them. It turned out +that the pleasure-seekers saw their danger in time, and ran ashore on +one of the least exposed islands, where they passed the night. Shortly +after our own arrival they appeared off Rivermouth, much to the joy of +their friends, in two shattered, dismasted boats. + +The excitement over, I was in a forlorn state, physically and mentally. +Captain Nutter put me to bed between hot blankets, and sent Kitty +Collins for the doctor. I was wandering in my mind, and fancied myself +still on Sandpeep Island: now we were building our brick-stove to cook +the chowder, and, in my delirium, I laughed aloud and shouted to my +comrades; now the sky darkened, and the squall struck the island: now I +gave orders to Wallace how to manage the boat, and now I cried because +the rain was pouring in on me through the holes in the tent. Towards +evening a high fever set in, and it was many days before my grandfather +deemed it prudent to tell me that the Dolphin had been found, floating +keel upwards, four miles southeast of Mackerel Reef. + +Poor little Binny Wallace! How strange it seemed, when I went to +school again, to see that empty seat in the fifth row! How gloomy the +playground was, lacking the sunshine of his gentle, sensitive face! One +day a folded sheet slipped from my algebra; it was the last note he ever +wrote me. I couldn't read it for the tears. + +What a pang shot across my heart the afternoon it was whispered through +the town that a body had been washed ashore at Grave Point--the place +where we bathed. We bathed there no more! How well I remember the +funeral, and what a piteous sight it was afterwards to see his familiar +name on a small headstone in the Old South Burying Ground! + +Poor little Binny Wallace! Always the same to me. The rest of us have +grown up into hard, worldly men, fighting the fight of life; but you +are forever young, and gentle, and pure; a part of my own childhood +that time cannot wither; always a little boy, always poor little Binny +Wallace! + + + + +Chapter Fifteen--An Old Acquaintance Turns Up + + +A year had stolen by since the death of Binny Wallace--a year of which I +have nothing important to record. + +The loss of our little playmate threw a shadow over our young lives for +many and many a month. The Dolphin rose and fell with the tide at the +foot of the slippery steps, unused, the rest of the summer. At the close +of November we hauled her sadly into the boat-house for the winter; but +when spring came round we launched the Dolphin again, and often went +down to the wharf and looked at her lying in the tangled eel-grass, +without much inclination to take a row. The associations connected with +the boat were too painful as yet; but time, which wears the sharp edge +from everything, softened this feeling, and one afternoon we brought out +the cobwebbed oars. + +The ice once broken, brief trips along the wharves--we seldom cared to +go out into the river now--became one of our chief amusements. Meanwhile +Gypsy was not forgotten. Every clear morning I was in the saddle +before breakfast, and there are few roads or lanes within ten miles of +Rivermouth that have not borne the print of her vagrant hoof. + +I studied like a good fellow this quarter, carrying off a couple of +first prizes. The Captain expressed his gratification by presenting me +with a new silver dollar. If a dollar in his eyes was smaller than a +cart-wheel, it wasn't so very much smaller. I redeemed my pencil-case +from the treasurer of the Centipedes, and felt that I was getting on in +the world. + +It was at this time I was greatly cast down by a letter from my father +saying that he should be unable to visit Rivermouth until the following +year. With that letter came another to Captain Nutter, which he did not +read aloud to the family, as usual. It was on business, he said, folding +it up in his wallet. He received several of these business letters from +time to time, and I noticed that they always made him silent and moody. + +The fact is, my father's banking-house was not thriving. The +unlooked-for failure of a firm largely indebted to him had crippled +“the house.” When the Captain imparted this information to me I didn't +trouble myself over the matter. I supposed--if I supposed anything--that +all grown-up people had more or less money, when they wanted it. Whether +they inherited it, or whether government supplied them, was not clear +to me. A loose idea that my father had a private gold-mine somewhere or +other relieved me of all uneasiness. + +I was not far from right. Every man has within himself a gold-mine whose +riches are limited only by his own industry. It is true, it sometimes +happens that industry does not avail, if a man lacks that something +which, for want of a better name, we call Luck. My father was a person +of untiring energy and ability; but he had no luck. To use a Rivermouth +saying, he was always catching sculpins when everyone else with the same +bait was catching mackerel. + +It was more than two years since I had seen my parents. I felt that I +could not bear a longer separation. Every letter from New Orleans--we +got two or three a month--gave me a fit of homesickness; and when it was +definitely settled that my father and mother were to remain in the South +another twelvemonth, I resolved to go to them. + +Since Binny Wallace's death, Pepper Whitcomb had been my fidus Achates; +we occupied desks near each other at school, and were always together +in play hours. We rigged a twine telegraph from his garret window to +the scuttle of the Nutter House, and sent messages to each other in +a match-box. We shared our pocket-money and our secrets--those amazing +secrets which boys have. We met in lonely places by stealth, and parted +like conspirators; we couldn't buy a jackknife or build a kite without +throwing an air of mystery and guilt over the transaction. + +I naturally hastened to lay my New Orleans project before Pepper +Whitcomb, having dragged him for that purpose to a secluded spot in the +dark pine woods outside the town. Pepper listened to me with a gravity +which he will not be able to surpass when he becomes Chief Justice, and +strongly advised me to go. + +“The summer vacation,” said Pepper, “lasts six weeks; that will give you +a fortnight to spend in New Orleans, allowing two weeks each way for the +journey.” + +I wrung his hand and begged him to accompany me, offering to defray +all the expenses. I wasn't anything if I wasn't princely in those days. +After considerable urging, he consented to go on terms so liberal. The +whole thing was arranged; there was nothing to do now but to advise +Captain Nutter of my plan, which I did the next day. + +The possibility that he might oppose the tour never entered my head. I +was therefore totally unprepared for the vigorous negative which met +my proposal. I was deeply mortified, moreover, for there was Pepper +Whitcomb on the wharf, at the foot of the street, waiting for me to come +and let him know what day we were to start. + +“Go to New Orleans? Go to Jericho!” exclaimed Captain Nutter. “You'd +look pretty, you two, philandering off, like the babes in the wood, +twenty-five hundred miles, 'with all the world before you where to +choose!'” + +And the Captain's features, which had worn an indignant air as he began +the sentence, relaxed into a broad smile. Whether it was at the felicity +of his own quotation, or at the mental picture he drew of Pepper and +myself on our travels. + +I couldn't tell, and I didn't care. I was heart-broken. How could I face +my chum after all the dazzling inducements I had held out to him? + +My grandfather, seeing that I took the matter seriously, pointed out +the difficulties of such a journey and the great expense involved. He +entered into the details of my father's money troubles, and succeeded +in making it plain to me that my wishes, under the circumstances, were +somewhat unreasonable. It was in no cheerful mood that I joined Pepper +at the end of the wharf. + +I found that young gentleman leaning against the bulkhead gazing +intently towards the islands in the harbor. He had formed a telescope of +his hands, and was so occupied with his observations as to be oblivious +of my approach. + +“Hullo!” cried Pepper, dropping his hands. “Look there! Isn't that a +bark coming up the Narrows?” + +“Where?” + +“Just at the left of Fishcrate Island. Don't you see the foremast +peeping above the old derrick?” + +Sure enough it was a vessel of considerable size, slowly beating up to +town. In a few moments more the other two masts were visible above the +green hillocks. + +“Fore-topmasts blown away,” said Pepper. “Putting in for repairs, I +guess.” + +As the bark lazily crept from behind the last of the islands, she let go +her anchors and swung round with the tide. Then the gleeful chant of +the sailors at the capstan came to us pleasantly across the water. The +vessel lay within three quarters of a mile of us, and we could plainly +see the men at the davits lowering the starboard long-boat. It no sooner +touched the stream than a dozen of the crew scrambled like mice over the +side of the merchantman. + +In a neglected seaport like Rivermouth the arrival of a large ship is an +event of moment. The prospect of having twenty or thirty jolly tars +let loose on the peaceful town excites divers emotions among the +inhabitants. The small shopkeepers along the wharves anticipate a +thriving trade; the proprietors of the two rival boarding-houses--the +“Wee Drop” and the “Mariner's Home”--hasten down to the landing to secure +lodgers; and the female population of Anchor Lane turn out to a woman, +for a ship fresh from sea is always full of possible husbands and +long-lost prodigal sons. + +But aside from this there is scant welcome given to a ship's crew in +Rivermouth. The toil-worn mariner is a sad fellow ashore, judging him by +a severe moral standard. + +Once, I remember, a United States frigate came into port for repairs +after a storm. She lay in the river a fortnight or more, and every day +sent us a gang of sixty or seventy of our country's gallant defenders, +who spread themselves over the town, doing all sorts of mad things. They +were good-natured enough, but full of old Sancho. The “Wee Drop” proved +a drop too much for many of them. They went singing through the streets +at midnight, wringing off door-knockers, shinning up water-spouts, and +frightening the Oldest Inhabitant nearly to death by popping their +heads into his second-story window, and shouting “Fire!” One morning a +blue-jacket was discovered in a perilous plight, half-way up the steeple +of the South Church, clinging to the lightning-rod. How he got there +nobody could tell, not even blue-jacket himself. All he knew was, that +the leg of his trousers had caught on a nail, and there he stuck, unable +to move either way. It cost the town twenty dollars to get him down +again. He directed the workmen how to splice the ladders brought to his +assistance, and called his rescuers “butter-fingered land-lubbers” with +delicious coolness. + +But those were man-of-war's men: The sedate-looking craft now lying off +Fishcrate Island wasn't likely to carry any such cargo. Nevertheless, we +watched the coming in of the long-boat with considerable interest. + +As it drew near, the figure of the man pulling the bow-oar seemed oddly +familiar to me. Where could I have seen him before? When and where? His +back was towards me, but there was something about that closely cropped +head that I recognized instantly. + +“Way enough!” cried the steersman, and all the oars stood upright in +the air. The man in the bow seized the boat-hook, and, turning round +quickly, showed me the honest face of Sailor Ben of the Typhoon. + +“It's Sailor Ben!” I cried, nearly pushing Pepper Whitcomb overboard in +my excitement. + +Sailor Ben, with the wonderful pink lady on his arm, and the ships and +stars and anchors tattooed all over him, was a well-known hero among my +playmates. And there he was, like something in a dream come true! + +I didn't wait for my old acquaintance to get firmly on the wharf, before +I grasped his hand in both of mine. + +“Sailor Ben, don't you remember me?” + +He evidently did not. He shifted his quid from one cheek to the other, +and looked at me meditatively. + +“Lord love ye, lad, I don't know you. I was never here afore in my +life.” + +“What!” I cried, enjoying his perplexity. “Have you forgotten the +voyage from New Orleans in the Typhoon, two years ago, you lovely old +picture-book?” + +Ah! then he knew me, and in token of the recollection gave my hand such +a squeeze that I am sure an unpleasant change came over my countenance. + +“Bless my eyes, but you have growed so. I shouldn't have knowed you if I +had met you in Singapore!” + +Without stopping to inquire, as I was tempted to do, why he was more +likely to recognize me in Singapore than anywhere else, I invited him to +come at once up to the Nutter House, where I insured him a warm welcome +from the Captain. + +“Hold steady, Master Tom,” said Sailor Ben, slipping the painter through +the ringbolt and tying the loveliest knot you ever saw; “hold steady +till I see if the mate can let me off. If you please, sir,” he +continued, addressing the steersman, a very red-faced, bow-legged +person, “this here is a little shipmate o' mine as wants to talk over +back times along of me, if so it's convenient.” + +“All right, Ben,” returned the mate; “sha'n't want you for an hour.” + +Leaving one man in charge of the boat, the mate and the rest of the +crew went off together. In the meanwhile Pepper Whitcomb had got out his +cunner-line, and was quietly fishing at the end of the wharf, as if to +give me the idea that he wasn't so very much impressed by my intimacy +with so renowned a character as Sailor Ben. Perhaps Pepper was a little +jealous. At any rate, he refused to go with us to the house. + +Captain Nutter was at home reading the Rivermouth Barnacle. He was +a reader to do an editor's heart good; he never skipped over an +advertisement, even if he had read it fifty times before. Then the paper +went the rounds of the neighborhood, among the poor people, like the +single portable eye which the three blind crones passed to each other in +the legend of King Acrisius. The Captain, I repeat, was wandering in +the labyrinths of the Rivermouth Barnacle when I led Sailor Ben into the +sitting-room. + +My grandfather, whose inborn courtesy knew no distinctions, received +my nautical friend as if he had been an admiral instead of a common +forecastle-hand. Sailor Ben pulled an imaginary tuft of hair on his +forehead, and bowed clumsily. Sailors have a way of using their forelock +as a sort of handle to bow with. + +The old tar had probably never been in so handsome an apartment in all +his days, and nothing could induce him to take the inviting mahogany +chair which the Captain wheeled out from the corner. + +The abashed mariner stood up against the wall, twirling his tarpaulin +in his two hands and looking extremely silly. He made a poor show in a +gentleman's drawing-room, but what a fellow he had been in his day, when +the gale blew great guns and the topsails wanted reefing! I thought of +him with the Mexican squadron off Vera Cruz, where, + +'The rushing battle-bolt sung from the three-decker out of the foam,' + +and he didn't seem awkward or ignoble to me, for all his shyness. + +As Sailor Ben declined to sit down, the Captain did not resume his seat; +so we three stood in a constrained manner until my grandfather went to +the door and called to Kitty to bring in a decanter of Madeira and two +glasses. + +“My grandson, here, has talked so much about you,” said the Captain, +pleasantly, “that you seem quite like an old acquaintance to me.” + +“Thankee, sir, thankee,” returned Sailor Ben, looking as guilty as if he +had been detected in picking a pocket. + +“And I'm very glad to see you, Mr.--Mr.--” + +“Sailor Ben,” suggested that worthy. + +“Mr. Sailor Ben,” added the Captain, smiling. “Tom, open the door, +there's Kitty with the glasses.” + +I opened the door, and Kitty entered the room bringing the things on +a waiter, which she was about to set on the table, when suddenly she +uttered a loud shriek; the decanter and glasses fell with a crash to the +floor, and Kitty, as white as a sheet, was seen flying through the hall. + +“It's his wraith! It's his wraith!”' we heard Kitty shrieking in the +kitchen. + +My grandfather and I turned with amazement to Sailor Ben. His eyes were +standing out of his head like a lobster's. + +“It's my own little Irish lass!” shouted the sailor, and he darted into +the hall after her. + +Even then we scarcely caught the meaning of his words, but when we saw +Sailor Ben and Kitty sobbing on each other's shoulder in the kitchen, we +understood it all. + +“I begs your honor's parden, sir,” said Sailor Ben, lifting his +tear-stained face above Kitty's tumbled hair; “I begs your honor's +parden for kicking up a rumpus in the house, but it's my own little +Irish lass as I lost so long ago!” + +“Heaven preserve us!” cried the Captain, blowing his nose violently--a +transparent ruse to hide his emotion. + +Miss Abigail was in an upper chamber, sweeping; but on hearing +the unusual racket below, she scented an accident and came ambling +downstairs with a bottle of the infallible hot-drops in her hand. +Nothing but the firmness of my grandfather prevented her from giving +Sailor Ben a table-spoonful on the spot. But when she learned what had +come about--that this was Kitty's husband, that Kitty Collins wasn't +Kitty Collins now, but Mrs. Benjamin Watson of Nantucket--the good +soul sat down on the meal-chest and sobbed as if--to quote from Captain +Nutter--as if a husband of her own had turned up! + +A happier set of people than we were never met together in a dingy +kitchen or anywhere else. The Captain ordered a fresh decanter of +Madeira, and made all hands, excepting myself, drink a cup to the return +of “the prodigal sea-son,” as he persisted in calling Sailor Ben. + +After the first flush of joy and surprise was over Kitty grew silent +and constrained. Now and then she fixed her eyes thoughtfully on her +husband. Why had he deserted her all these years? What right had he to +look for a welcome from one he had treated so cruelly? She had been true +to him, but had he been true to her? Sailor Ben must have guessed what +was passing in her mind, for presently he took her hand and said--“Well, +lass, it's a long yarn, but you shall have it all in good time. It was +my hard luck as made us part company, an' no will of mine, for I loved +you dear.” + +Kitty brightened up immediately, needing no other assurance of Sailor +Ben's faithfulness. + +When his hour had expired, we walked with him down to the wharf, where +the Captain held a consultation with the mate, which resulted in an +extension of Mr. Watson's leave of absence, and afterwards in his +discharge from his ship. We then went to the “Mariner's Home” to engage +a room for him, as he wouldn't hear of accepting the hospitalities of +the Nutter House. + +“You see, I'm only an uneddicated man,” he remarked to my grandfather, +by way of explanation. + + + + +Chapter Sixteen--In Which Sailor Ben Spins a Yarn + + +Of course we were all very curious to learn what had befallen Sailor +Ben that morning long ago, when he bade his little bride goodby and +disappeared so mysteriously. + +After tea, that same evening, we assembled around the table in the +kitchen--the only place where Sailor Ben felt at home--to hear what he +had to say for himself. + +The candles were snuffed, and a pitcher of foaming nut-brown ale was +set at the elbow of the speaker, who was evidently embarrassed by the +respectability of his audience, consisting of Captain Nutter, Miss +Abigail, myself, and Kitty, whose face shone with happiness like one of +the polished tin platters on the dresser. + +“Well, my hearties,” commenced Sailor Ben--then he stopped short and +turned very red, as it struck him that maybe this was not quite the +proper way to address a dignitary like the Captain and a severe elderly +lady like Miss Abigail Nutter, who sat bolt upright staring at him as +she would have stared at the Tycoon of Japan himself. + +“I ain't much of a hand at spinnin' a yarn,” remarked Sailor Ben, +apologetically, “'specially when the yarn is all about a man as has +made a fool of hisself, an' 'specially when that man's name is Benjamin +Watson.” + +“Bravo!” cried Captain Nutter, rapping on the table encouragingly. + +“Thankee, sir, thankee. I go back to the time when Kitty an' me was +livin' in lodgin's by the dock in New York. We was as happy, sir, as two +porpusses, which they toil not neither do they spin. But when I seed the +money gittin' low in the locker--Kitty's starboard stockin', savin' your +presence, marm--I got down-hearted like, seem' as I should be obleeged +to ship agin, for it didn't seem as I could do much ashore. An' then the +sea was my nat'ral spear of action. I wasn't exactly born on it, look +you, but I fell into it the fust time I was let out arter my birth. My +mother slipped her cable for a heavenly port afore I was old enough to +hail her; so I larnt to look on the ocean for a sort of step-mother--an' +a precious hard one she has been to me. + +“The idee of leavin' Kitty so soon arter our marriage went agin my grain +considerable. I cruised along the docks for somethin' to do in the +way of stevedore: an' though I picked up a stray job here and there, +I didn't arn enough to buy ship-bisket for a rat; let alone feedin' two +human mouths. There wasn't nothin' honest I wouldn't have turned a hand +to; but the 'longshoremen gobbled up all the work, an' a outsider like +me didn't stand a show. + +“Things got from bad to worse; the month's rent took all our cash except +a dollar or so, an' the sky looked kind o' squally fore an' aft. Well, +I set out one mornin'--that identical unlucky mornin'--determined to come +back an' toss some pay into Kitty's lap, if I had to sell my jacket for +it. I spied a brig unloadin' coal at pier No. 47--how well I remembers +it! I hailed the mate, an' offered myself for a coal-heaver. But I +wasn't wanted, as he told me civilly enough, which was better treatment +than usual. As I turned off rather glum I was signalled by one of them +sleek, smooth-spoken rascals with a white hat an' a weed on it, as is +always goin' about the piers a-seekin' who they may devower. + +“We sailors know 'em for rascals from stem to starn, but somehow every +fresh one fleeces us jest as his mate did afore him. We don't larn +nothin' by exper'ence; we're jest no better than a lot of babys with no +brains. + +“'Good mornin', my man,' sez the chap, as iley as you please. + +“'Mornin', sir,' sez I. + +“'Lookin' for a job?' sez he. + +“'Through the big end of a telescope,' sez I--meanin' that the chances +for a job looked very small from my pint of view. + +“'You're the man for my money,' sez the sharper, smilin' as innocent as +a cherubim; 'jest step in here, till we talk it over.' + +“So I goes with him like a nat'ral-born idiot, into a little +grocery-shop near by, where we sets down at a table with a bottle atween +us. Then it comes out as there is a New Bedford whaler about to start +for the fishin' grounds, an' jest one able-bodied sailor like me is +wanted to make up the crew. Would I go? Yes, I wouldn't on no terms. + +“'I'll bet you fifty dollars,' sez he, 'that you'll come back fust +mate.' + +“'I'll bet you a hundred,' sez I, 'that I don't, for I've signed papers +as keeps me ashore, an' the parson has witnessed the deed.' + +“So we sat there, he urgin' me to ship, an' I chaffin' him cheerful over +the bottle. + +“Arter a while I begun to feel a little queer; things got foggy in my +upper works, an' I remembers, faint-like, of signin' a paper; then I +remembers bein' in a small boat; an' then I remembers nothin' until I +heard the mate's whistle pipin' all hands on deck. I tumbled up with +the rest; an' there I was--on board of a whaler outward bound for a three +years' cruise, an' my dear little lass ashore awaitin' for me.” + +“Miserable wretch!” said Miss Abigail, in a voice that vibrated +among the tin platters on the dresser. This was Miss Abigail's way of +testifying her sympathy. + +“Thankee, marm,” returned Sailor Ben, doubtfully. + +“No talking to the man at the wheel,” cried the Captain. Upon which we +all laughed. “Spin!” added my grandfather. + +Sailor Ben resumed: + +“I leave you to guess the wretchedness as fell upon me, for I've not got +the gift to tell you. There I was down on the ship's books for a three +years' viage, an' no help for it. I feel nigh to six hundred years old +when I think how long that viage was. There isn't no hour-glass as runs +slow enough to keep a tally of the slowness of them fust hours. But I +done my duty like a man, seem' there wasn't no way of gettin' out of it. +I told my shipmates of the trick as had been played on me, an they tried +to cheer me up a bit; but I was sore sorrowful for a long spell. Many a +night on watch I put my face in my hands and sobbed for thinkin' of the +little woman left among the land-sharks, an' no man to have an eye on +her, God bless her!” + +Here Kitty softly drew her chair nearer to Sailor Ben, and rested one +hand on his arm. + +“Our adventures among the whales, I take it, doesn't consarn the present +company here assembled. So I give that the go by. There's an end to +everythin', even to a whalin' viage. My heart all but choked me the day +we put into New Bedford with our cargo of ile. I got my three years' pay +in a lump, an' made for New York like a flash of lightnin'. The people +hove to and looked at me, as I rushed through the streets like a madman, +until I came to the spot where the lodgin'-house stood on West Street. +But, Lord love ye, there wasn't no sech lodgin'-house there, but a great +new brick shop. + +“I made bold to go in an' ask arter the old place, but nobody knowed +nothin' about it, save as it had been torn down two years or more. I was +adrift now, for I had reckoned all them days and nights on gittin' word +of Kitty from Dan Shackford, the man as kept the lodgin'. + +“As I stood there with all the wind knocked out of my sails, the idee of +runnin' alongside the perlice-station popped into my head. The perlice +was likely to know the latitude of a man like Dan Shackford, who wasn't +over an' above respecktible. They did know--he had died in the Tombs jail +that day twelvemonth. A coincydunce, wasn't it? I was ready to drop when +they told me this; howsomever, I bore up an' give the chief a notion of +the fix I was in. He writ a notice which I put into the newspapers every +day for three months; but nothin' come of it. I cruised over the city +week in and week out I went to every sort of place where they hired +women hands; I didn't leave a think undone that a uneddicated man could +do. But nothin' come of it. I don't believe there was a wretcheder soul +in that big city of wretchedness than me. Sometimes I wanted to lay down +in the sheets and die. + +“Driftin' disconsolate one day among the shippin', who should I +overhaul but the identical smooth-spoken chap with a white hat an' a +weed on it! I didn't know if there was any spent left in me, till I +clapped eye on his very onpleasant countenance. 'You villain!' sez +I, 'where's my little Irish lass as you dragged me away from?' an' I +lighted on him, hat and all, like that!” + +Here Sailor Ben brought his fist down on the deal table with the force +of a sledge-hammer. Miss Abigail gave a start, and the ale leaped up in +the pitcher like a miniature fountain. + +“I begs your parden, ladies and gentlemen all; but the thought of that +feller with his ring an' his watch-chain an' his walrus face, is alus +too many for me. I was for pitchin' him into the North River, when a +perliceman prevented me from benefitin' the human family. I had to pay +five dollars for hittin' the chap (they said it was salt and buttery), +an' that's what I call a neat, genteel luxury. It was worth double the +money jest to see that white hat, with a weed on it, layin' on the wharf +like a busted accordiun. + +“Arter months of useless sarch, I went to sea agin. I never got into a +foren port but I kept a watch out for Kitty. Once I thought I seed her +in Liverpool, but it was only a gal as looked like her. The numbers of +women in different parts of the world as looked like her was amazin'. So +a good many years crawled by, an' I wandered from place to place, never +givin' up the sarch. I might have been chief mate scores of times, maybe +master; but I hadn't no ambition. I seed many strange things in them +years--outlandish people an' cities, storms, shipwracks, an' battles. I +seed many a true mate go down, an' sometimes I envied them what went to +their rest. But these things is neither here nor there. + +“About a year ago I shipped on board the Belphoebe yonder, an' of all +the strange winds as ever blowed, the strangest an' the best was the +wind as blowed me to this here blessed spot. I can't be too thankful. +That I'm as thankful as it is possible for an uneddicated man to be, He +knows as reads the heart of all.” + +Here ended Sailor Ben's yarn, which I have written down in his own +homely words as nearly as I can recall them. After he had finished, the +Captain shook hands with him and served out the ale. + +As Kitty was about to drink, she paused, rested the cup on her knee, and +asked what day of the month it was. + +“The twenty-seventh,” said the Captain, wondering what she was driving +at. + +“Then,” cried Kitty, “it's ten years this night sence--” + +“Since what?” asked my grandfather. + +“Sence the little lass and I got spliced!” roared Sailor Ben. “There's +another coincydunce for you!” + +On hearing this we all clapped hands, and the Captain, with a degree +of ceremony that was almost painful, drank a bumper to the health and +happiness of the bride and bridegroom. + +It was a pleasant sight to see the two old lovers sitting side by side, +in spite of all, drinking from the same little cup--a battered zinc +dipper which Sailor Ben had unslung from a strap round his waist. I +think I never saw him without this dipper and a sheath-knife suspended +just back of his hip, ready for any convivial occasion. + +We had a merry time of it. The Captain was in great force this evening, +and not only related his famous exploit in the War of 1812, but regaled +the company with a dashing sea-song from Mr. Shakespeare's play of The +Tempest. He had a mellow tenor voice (not Shakespeare, but the Captain), +and rolled out the verse with a will: + +“The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, +The gunner, and his mate, +Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery, +But none of us car'd for Kate.” + +“A very good song, and very well sung,” says Sailor Ben; “but some of us +does care for Kate. Is this Mr. Shawkspear a seafarin' man, sir?” + +“Not at present,” replied the Captain, with a monstrous twinkle in his +eye. + +The clock was striking ten when the party broke up. The Captain walked +to the “Mariner's Home” with his guest, in order to question him +regarding his future movements. + +“Well, sir,” said he, “I ain't as young as I was, an' I don't cal'ulate +to go to sea no more. I proposes to drop anchor here, an' hug the +land until the old hulk goes to pieces. I've got two or three thousand +dollars in the locker, an' expects to get on uncommon comfortable +without askin' no odds from the Assylum for Decayed Mariners.” + +My grandfather indorsed the plan warmly, and Sailor Ben did drop anchor +in Rivermouth, where he speedily became one of the institutions of the +town. + +His first step was to buy a small one-story cottage located at the +head of the wharf, within gun-shot of the Nutter House. To the great +amusement of my grandfather, Sailor Ben painted the cottage a light +sky-blue, and ran a broad black stripe around it just under the eaves. +In this stripe he painted white port-holes, at regular distances, making +his residence look as much like a man-of-war as possible. With a short +flag-staff projecting over the door like a bowsprit, the effect was +quite magical. My description of the exterior of this palatial residence +is complete when I add that the proprietor nailed a horseshoe against +the front door to keep off the witches--a very necessary precaution in +these latitudes. + +The inside of Sailor Ben's abode was not less striking than the outside. +The cottage contained two rooms; the one opening on the wharf he +called his cabin; here he ate and slept. His few tumblers and a frugal +collection of crockery were set in a rack suspended over the table, +which had a cleat of wood nailed round the edge to prevent the dishes +from sliding off in case of a heavy sea. Hanging against the walls +were three or four highly colored prints of celebrated frigates, and +a lithograph picture of a rosy young woman insufficiently clad in the +American flag. This was labelled “Kitty,” though I'm sure it looked no +more like her than I did. A walrus-tooth with an Esquimaux engraved on +it, a shark's jaw, and the blade of a sword-fish were among the enviable +decorations of this apartment. In one corner stood his bunk, or bed, +and in the other his well-worn sea-chest, a perfect Pandora's box of +mysteries. You would have thought yourself in the cabin of a real ship. + +The little room aft, separated from the cabin by a sliding door, was the +caboose. It held a cooking-stove, pots, pans, and groceries; also a lot +of fishing-lines and coils of tarred twine, which made the place smell +like a forecastle, and a delightful smell it is--to those who fancy it. + +Kitty didn't leave our service, but played housekeeper for both +establishments, returning at night to Sailor Ben's. He shortly added +a wherry to his worldly goods, and in the fishing season made a very +handsome income. During the winter he employed himself manufacturing +crab-nets, for which he found no lack of customers. + +His popularity among the boys was immense. A jackknife in his expert +hand was a whole chest of tools. He could whittle out anything from a +wooden chain to a Chinese pagoda, or a full-rigged seventy-four a foot +long. To own a ship of Sailor Ben's building was to be exalted above +your fellow-creatures. He didn't carve many, and those he refused to +sell, choosing to present them to his young friends, of whom Tom Bailey, +you may be sure, was one. + +How delightful it was of winter nights to sit in his cosey cabin, close +to the ship's stove (he wouldn't hear of having a fireplace), and listen +to Sailor Ben's yarns! In the early summer twilights, when he sat on +the door-step splicing a rope or mending a net, he always had a bevy of +blooming young faces alongside. + +The dear old fellow! How tenderly the years touched him after this--all +the more tenderly, it seemed, for having roughed him so cruelly in other +days! + + + + +Chapter Seventeen--How We Astonished the Rivermouthians + + +Sailor Ben's arrival partly drove the New Orleans project from my brain. +Besides, there was just then a certain movement on foot by the Centipede +Club which helped to engross my attention. + +Pepper Whitcomb took the Captain's veto philosophically, observing that +he thought from the first the governor wouldn't let me go. I don't think +Pepper was quite honest in that. + +But to the subject in hand. + +Among the few changes that have taken place in Rivermouth during the +past twenty years there is one which I regret. I lament the removal of +all those varnished iron cannon which used to do duty as posts at +the corners of streets leading from the river. They were quaintly +ornamental, each set upon end with a solid shot soldered into its mouth, +and gave to that part of the town a picturesqueness very poorly atoned +for by the conventional wooden stakes that have deposed them. + +These guns (“old sogers” the boys called them) had their story, like +everything else in Rivermouth. When that everlasting last war--the War of +1812, I mean--came to an end, all the brigs, schooners, and barks fitted +out at this port as privateers were as eager to get rid of their useless +twelve-pounders and swivels as they had previously been to obtain them. +Many of the pieces had cost large sums, and now they were little better +than so much crude iron--not so good, in fact, for they were clumsy +things to break up and melt over. The government didn't want them; +private citizens didn't want them; they were a drug in the market. + +But there was one man, ridiculous beyond his generation, who got it into +his head that a fortune was to be made out of these same guns. To buy +them all, to hold on to them until war was declared again (as he had +no doubt it would be in a few months), and then sell out at fabulous +prices--this was the daring idea that addled the pate of Silas Trefethen, +“Dealer in E. & W. I. Goods and Groceries,” as the faded sign over his +shop-door informed the public. + +Silas went shrewdly to work, buying up every old cannon he could lay +hands on. His back-yard was soon crowded with broken-down gun-carriages, +and his barn with guns, like an arsenal. When Silas's purpose got wind +it was astonishing how valuable that thing became which just now was +worth nothing at all. + +“Ha, ha!” thought Silas. “Somebody else is tryin' hi git control of the +market. But I guess I've got the start of him.” + +So he went on buying and buying, oftentimes paying double the original +price of the article. People in the neighboring towns collected all +the worthless ordnance they could find, and sent it by the cart-load to +Rivermouth. + +When his barn was full, Silas began piling the rubbish in his cellar, +then in his parlor. He mortgaged the stock of his grocery store, +mortgaged his house, his barn, his horse, and would have mortgaged +himself, if anyone would have taken him as security, in order to carry +on the grand speculation. He was a ruined man, and as happy as a lark. + +Surely poor Silas was cracked, like the majority of his own cannon. More +or less crazy he must have been always. Years before this he purchased +an elegant rosewood coffin, and kept it in one of the spare rooms in his +residence. He even had his name engraved on the silver-plate, leaving a +blank after the word “Died.” + +The blank was filled up in due time, and well it was for Silas that he +secured so stylish a coffin in his opulent days, for when he died his +worldly wealth would not have bought him a pine box, to say nothing of +rosewood. He never gave up expecting a war with Great Britain. Hopeful +and radiant to the last, his dying words were, England--war--few +days--great profits! + +It was that sweet old lady, Dame Jocelyn, who told me the story of Silas +Trefethen; for these things happened long before my day. Silas died in +1817. + +At Trefethen's death his unique collection came under the auctioneer's +hammer. Some of the larger guns were sold to the town, and planted at +the corners of divers streets; others went off to the iron-foundry; the +balance, numbering twelve, were dumped down on a deserted wharf at the +foot of Anchor Lane, where, summer after summer, they rested at their +ease in the grass and fungi, pelted in autumn by the rain and annually +buried by the winter snow. It is with these twelve guns that our story +has to deal. + +The wharf where they reposed was shut off from the street by a high +fence--a silent dreamy old wharf, covered with strange weeds and mosses. +On account of its seclusion and the good fishing it afforded, it was +much frequented by us boys. + +There we met many an afternoon to throw out our lines, or play +leap-frog among the rusty cannon. They were famous fellows in our eyes. +What a racket they had made in the heyday of their unchastened youth! +What stories they might tell now, if their puffy metallic lips could +only speak! Once they were lively talkers enough; but there the grim +sea-dogs lay, silent and forlorn in spite of all their former growlings. + +They always seemed to me like a lot of venerable disabled tars, +stretched out on a lawn in front of a hospital, gazing seaward, and +mutely lamenting their lost youth. + +But once more they were destined to lift up their dolorous voices--once +more ere they keeled over and lay speechless for all time. And this is +how it befell. + +Jack Harris, Charley Marden, Harry Blake, and myself were fishing +off the wharf one afternoon, when a thought flashed upon me like an +inspiration. + +“I say, boys!” I cried, hauling in my line hand over hand, “I've got +something!” + +“What does it pull like, youngster?” asked Harris, looking down at the +taut line and expecting to see a big perch at least. + +“O, nothing in the fish way,” I returned, laughing; “it's about the old +guns.” + +“What about them?” + +“I was thinking what jolly fun it would be to set one of the old sogers +on his legs and serve him out a ration of gunpowder.” + +Up came the three lines in a jiffy. An enterprise better suited to the +disposition of my companions could not have been proposed. + +In a short time we had one of the smaller cannon over on its back and +were busy scraping the green rust from the touch-hole. The mould had +spiked the gun so effectually, that for a while we fancied we should +have to give up our attempt to resuscitate the old soger. + +“A long gimlet would clear it out,” said Charley Marden, “if we only had +one.” + +I looked to see if Sailor Ben's flag was flying at the cabin door, for +he always took in the colors when he went off fishing. + +“When you want to know if the Admiral's aboard, jest cast an eye to the +buntin', my hearties,” says Sailor Ben. + +Sometimes in a jocose mood he called himself the Admiral, and I am +sure he deserved to be one. The Admiral's flag was flying, and I soon +procured a gimlet from his carefully kept tool-chest. + +Before long we had the gun in working order. A newspaper lashed to the +end of a lath served as a swab to dust out the bore. Jack Harris blew +through the touch-hole and pronounced all clear. + +Seeing our task accomplished so easily, we turned our attention to +the other guns, which lay in all sorts of postures in the rank grass. +Borrowing a rope from Sailor Ben, we managed with immense labor to drag +the heavy pieces into position and place a brick under each muzzle to +give it the proper elevation. When we beheld them all in a row, like a +regular battery, we simultaneously conceived an idea, the magnitude of +which struck us dumb for a moment. + +Our first intention was to load and fire a single gun. How feeble and +insignificant was such a plan compared to that which now sent the light +dancing into our eyes! + +“What could we have been thinking of?” cried Jack Harris. “We'll give +'em a broadside, to be sure, if we die for it!” + +We turned to with a will, and before nightfall had nearly half the +battery overhauled and ready for service. To keep the artillery dry we +stuffed wads of loose hemp into the muzzles, and fitted wooden pegs to +the touch-holes. + +At recess the next noon the Centipedes met in a corner of the +school-yard to talk over the proposed lark. The original projectors, +though they would have liked to keep the thing secret, were obliged +to make a club matter of it, inasmuch as funds were required for +ammunition. There had been no recent drain on the treasury, and the +society could well afford to spend a few dollars in so notable an +undertaking. + +It was unanimously agreed that the plan should be carried out in the +handsomest manner, and a subscription to that end was taken on the spot. +Several of the Centipedes hadn't a cent, excepting the one strung around +their necks; others, however, were richer. I chanced to have a dollar, +and it went into the cap quicker than lightning. When the club, in view +of my munificence, voted to name the guns Bailey's Battery I was prouder +than I have ever been since over anything. + +The money thus raised, added to that already in the treasury, amounted +to nine dollars--a fortune in those days; but not more than we had use +for. This sum was divided into twelve parts, for it would not do for one +boy to buy all the powder, nor even for us all to make our purchases at +the same place. That would excite suspicion at any time, particularly at +a period so remote from the Fourth of July. + +There were only three stores in town licensed to sell powder; that gave +each store four customers. Not to run the slightest risk of remark, +one boy bought his powder on Monday, the next boy on Tuesday, and so on +until the requisite quantity was in our possession. This we put into a +keg and carefully hid in a dry spot on the wharf. + +Our next step was to finish cleaning the guns, which occupied two +afternoons, for several of the old sogers were in a very congested state +indeed. Having completed the task, we came upon a difficulty. To set +off the battery by daylight was out of the question; it must be done at +night; it must be done with fuses, for no doubt the neighbors would +turn out after the first two or three shots, and it would not pay to be +caught in the vicinity. + +Who knew anything about fuses? Who could arrange it so the guns would go +off one after the other, with an interval of a minute or so between? + +Theoretically we knew that a minute fuse lasted a minute; double the +quantity, two minutes; but practically we were at a stand-still. There +was but one person who could help us in this extremity--Sailor Ben. To +me was assigned the duty of obtaining what information I could from the +ex-gunner, it being left to my discretion whether or not to intrust him +with our secret. + +So one evening I dropped into the cabin and artfully turned the +conversation to fuses in general, and then to particular fuses, but +without getting much out of the old boy, who was busy making a twine +hammock. Finally, I was forced to divulge the whole plot. + +The Admiral had a sailor's love for a joke, and entered at once and +heartily into our scheme. He volunteered to prepare the fuses himself, +and I left the labor in his hands, having bound him by several +extraordinary oaths--such as “Hope-I-may-die” and “Shiver-my-timbers”--not +to betray us, come what would. + +This was Monday evening. On Wednesday the fuses were ready. That night +we were to unmuzzle Bailey's Battery. Mr. Grimshaw saw that something +was wrong somewhere, for we were restless and absent-minded in the +classes, and the best of us came to grief before the morning session was +over. When Mr. Grimshaw announced “Guy Fawkes” as the subject for our +next composition, you might have knocked down the Mystic Twelve with a +feather. + +The coincidence was certainly curious, but when a man has committed, +or is about to commit an offence, a hundred trifles, which would pass +unnoticed at another time, seem to point at him with convicting fingers. +No doubt Guy Fawkes himself received many a start after he had got his +wicked kegs of gunpowder neatly piled up under the House of Lords. + +Wednesday, as I have mentioned, was a half-holiday, and the Centipedes +assembled in my barn to decide on the final arrangements. These were +as simple as could be. As the fuses were connected, it needed but one +person to fire the train. Hereupon arose a discussion as to who was the +proper person. Some argued that I ought to apply the match, the battery +being christened after me, and the main idea, moreover, being mine. +Others advocated the claim of Phil Adams as the oldest boy. At last we +drew lots for the post of honor. + +Twelve slips of folded paper, upon one of which was written “Thou art +the man,” were placed in a quart measure, and thoroughly shaken; then +each member stepped up and lifted out his destiny. At a given signal we +opened our billets. “Thou art the man,” said the slip of paper trembling +in my fingers. The sweets and anxieties of a leader were mine the rest +of the afternoon. + +Directly after twilight set in Phil Adams stole down to the wharf and +fixed the fuses to the guns, laying a train of powder from the principal +fuse to the fence, through a chink of which I was to drop the match at +midnight. + +At ten o'clock Rivermouth goes to bed. At eleven o'clock Rivermouth is +as quiet as a country churchyard. At twelve o'clock there is nothing +left with which to compare the stillness that broods over the little +seaport. + +In the midst of this stillness I arose and glided out of the house like +a phantom bent on an evil errand; like a phantom. I flitted through the +silent street, hardly drawing breath until I knelt down beside the fence +at the appointed place. + +Pausing a moment for my heart to stop thumping, I lighted the match +and shielded it with both hands until it was well under way, and then +dropped the blazing splinter on the slender thread of gunpowder. + +A noiseless flash instantly followed, and all was dark again. I peeped +through the crevice in the fence, and saw the main fuse spitting out +sparks like a conjurer. Assured that the train had not failed, I took +to my heels, fearful lest the fuse might burn more rapidly than we +calculated, and cause an explosion before I could get home. This, +luckily, did not happen. There's a special Providence that watches over +idiots, drunken men, and boys. + +I dodged the ceremony of undressing by plunging into bed, jacket, boots, +and all. I am not sure I took off my cap; but I know that I had hardly +pulled the coverlid over me, when “BOOM!” sounded the first gun of +Bailey's Battery. + +I lay as still as a mouse. In less than two minutes there was another +burst of thunder, and then another. The third gun was a tremendous +fellow and fairly shook the house. + +The town was waking up. Windows were thrown open here and there and +people called to each other across the streets asking what that firing +was for. + +“BOOM!” went gun number four. + +I sprung out of bed and tore off my jacket, for I heard the Captain +feeling his way along the wall to my chamber. I was half undressed by +the time he found the knob of the door. + +“I say, sir,” I cried, “do you hear those guns?” + +“Not being deaf, I do,” said the Captain, a little tartly--any reflection +on his hearing always nettled him; “but what on earth they are for I +can't conceive. You had better get up and dress yourself.” + +“I'm nearly dressed, sir.” + +“BOOM! BOOM!”--two of the guns had gone off together. + +The door of Miss Abigail's bedroom opened hastily, and that pink of +maidenly propriety stepped out into the hail in her night-gown--the only +indecorous thing I ever knew her to do. She held a lighted candle in her +hand and looked like a very aged Lady Macbeth. + +“O Dan'el, this is dreadful! What do you suppose it means?” + +“I really can't suppose,” said the Captain, rubbing his ear; “but I +guess it's over now.” + +“BOOM!” said Bailey's Battery. + +Rivermouth was wide awake now, and half the male population were in the +streets, running different ways, for the firing seemed to proceed from +opposite points of the town. Everybody waylaid everybody else with +questions; but as no one knew what was the occasion of the tumult, +people who were not usually nervous began to be oppressed by the +mystery. + +Some thought the town was being bombarded; some thought the world was +coming to an end, as the pious and ingenious Mr. Miller had predicted +it would; but those who couldn't form any theory whatever were the most +perplexed. + +In the meanwhile Bailey's Battery bellowed away at regular intervals. +The greatest confusion reigned everywhere by this time. People with +lanterns rushed hither and thither. The town watch had turned out to +a man, and marched off, in admirable order, in the wrong direction. +Discovering their mistake, they retraced their steps, and got down to +the wharf just as the last cannon belched forth its lightning. + +A dense cloud of sulphurous smoke floated over Anchor Lane, obscuring +the starlight. Two or three hundred people, in various stages of +excitement, crowded about the upper end of the wharf, not liking to +advance farther until they were satisfied that the explosions were +over. A board was here and there blown from the fence, and through +the openings thus afforded a few of the more daring spirits at length +ventured to crawl. + +The cause of the racket soon transpired. A suspicion that they had +been sold gradually dawned on the Rivermouthians. Many were exceedingly +indignant, and declared that no penalty was severe enough for those +concerned in such a prank; others--and these were the very people who +had been terrified nearly out of their wits--had the assurance to laugh, +saying that they knew all along it was only a trick. + +The town watch boldly took possession of the ground, and the crowd began +to disperse. Knots of gossips lingered here and there near the place, +indulging in vain surmises as to who the invisible gunners could be. + +There was no more noise that night, but many a timid person lay awake +expecting a renewal of the mysterious cannonading. The Oldest Inhabitant +refused to go to bed on any terms, but persisted in sitting up in a +rocking-chair, with his hat and mittens on, until daybreak. + +I thought I should never get to sleep. The moment I drifted off in a +doze I fell to laughing and woke myself up. But towards morning slumber +overtook me, and I had a series of disagreeable dreams, in one of which +I was waited upon by the ghost of Silas Trefethen with an exorbitant +bill for the use of his guns. In another, I was dragged before a +court-martial and sentenced by Sailor Ben, in a frizzled wig and +three-cornered cocked hat, to be shot to death by Bailey's Battery--a +sentence which Sailor Ben was about to execute with his own hand, when +I suddenly opened my eyes and found the sunshine lying pleasantly across +my face. I tell you I was glad! + +That unaccountable fascination which leads the guilty to hover about the +spot where his crime was committed drew me down to the wharf as soon as +I was dressed. Phil Adams, Jack Harris, and others of the conspirators +were already there, examining with a mingled feeling of curiosity and +apprehension the havoc accomplished by the battery. + +The fence was badly shattered and the ground ploughed up for several +yards round the place where the guns formerly lay--formerly lay, for +now they were scattered every which way. There was scarcely a gun that +hadn't burst. Here was one ripped open from muzzle to breech, and there +was another with its mouth blown into the shape of a trumpet. Three of +the guns had disappeared bodily, but on looking over the edge of the +wharf we saw them standing on end in the tide-mud. They had popped +overboard in their excitement. + +“I tell you what, fellows,” whispered Phil Adams, “it is lucky we didn't +try to touch 'em off with punk. They'd have blown us all to flinders.” + +The destruction of Bailey's Battery was not, unfortunately, the only +catastrophe. A fragment of one of the cannon had earned away the chimney +of Sailor Ben's cabin. He was very mad at first, but having prepared the +fuse himself he didn't dare complain openly. + +“I'd have taken a reef in the blessed stove-pipe,” said the Admiral, +gazing ruefully at the smashed chimney, “if I had known as how the +Flagship was agoin' to be under fire.” + +The next day he rigged out an iron funnel, which, being in sections, +could be detached and taken in at a moment's notice. On the whole, +I think he was resigned to the demolition of his brick chimney. The +stove-pipe was a great deal more shipshape. + +The town was not so easily appeased. The selectmen determined to make +an example of the guilty parties, and offered a reward for their arrest, +holding out a promise of pardon to anyone of the offenders who would +furnish information against the rest. But there were no faint hearts +among the Centipedes. Suspicion rested for a while on several persons--on +the soldiers at the fort; on a crazy fellow, known about town as +“Bottle-Nose”; and at last on Sailor Ben. + +“Shiver my timbers!” cries that deeply injured individual. “Do you +suppose, sir, as I have lived to sixty year, an' ain't got no more sense +than to go for to blaze away at my own upper riggin'? It doesn't stand +to reason.” + +It certainly did not seem probable that Mr. Watson would maliciously +knock over his own chimney, and Lawyer Hackett, who had the case in +hand, 'bowed himself out of the Admiral's cabin convinced that the right +man had not been discovered. + +People living by the sea are always more or less superstitious. Stories +of spectre ships and mysterious beacons, that lure vessels out of their +course and wreck them on unknown reefs, were among the stock legends of +Rivermouth; and not a few people in the town were ready to attribute the +firing of those guns to some supernatural agency. The Oldest Inhabitant +remembered that when he was a boy a dim-looking sort of schooner hove +to in the offing one foggy afternoon, fired off a single gun that didn't +make any report, and then crumbled to nothing, spar, mast, and hulk, +like a piece of burnt paper. + +The authorities, however, were of the opinion that human hands had +something to do with the explosions, and they resorted to deep-laid +stratagems to get hold of the said hands. One of their traps came very +near catching us. They artfully caused an old brass fieldpiece to be +left on a wharf near the scene of our late operations. Nothing in the +world but the lack of money to buy powder saved us from falling into +the clutches of the two watchmen who lay secreted for a week in a +neighboring sail-loft. + +It was many a day before the midnight bombardment ceased to be the +town-talk. The trick was so audacious and on so grand a scale that +nobody thought for an instant of connecting us lads with it. +Suspicion at length grew weary of lighting on the wrong person, and +as conjecture--like the physicians in the epitaph--was in vain, the +Rivermouthians gave up the idea of finding out who had astonished them. + +They never did find out, and never will, unless they read this veracious +history. If the selectmen are still disposed to punish the malefactors, +I can supply Lawyer Hackett with evidence enough to convict Pepper +Whitcomb, Phil Adams, Charley Marden, and the other honorable members of +the Centipede Club. But really I don't think it would pay now. + + + + +Chapter Eighteen--A Frog He Would A-Wooing Go + + +If the reader supposes that I lived all this while in Rivermouth without +falling a victim to one or more of the young ladies attending Miss +Dorothy Gibbs's Female Institute, why, then, all I have to say is the +reader exhibits his ignorance of human nature. + +Miss Gibbs's seminary was located within a few minutes' walk of the +Temple Grammar School, and numbered about thirty-five pupils, the +majority of whom boarded at the Hall--Primrose Hall, as Miss Dorothy +prettily called it. The Prim-roses, as we called them, ranged from +seven years of age to sweet seventeen, and a prettier group of sirens +never got together even in Rivermouth, for Rivermouth, you should know, +is famous for its pretty girls. + +There were tall girls and short girls, rosy girls and pale girls, and +girls as brown as berries; girls like Amazons, slender girls, weird +and winning like Undine, girls with black tresses, girls with auburn +ringlets, girls with every tinge of golden hair. To behold Miss +Dorothy's young ladies of a Sunday morning walking to church two by two, +the smallest toddling at the end of the procession, like the bobs at the +tail of a kite, was a spectacle to fill with tender emotion the least +susceptible heart. To see Miss Dorothy marching grimly at the head of +her light infantry, was to feel the hopelessness of making an attack on +any part of the column. + +She was a perfect dragon of watchfulness. The most unguarded lifting of +an eyelash in the fluttering battalion was sufficient to put her on the +lookout. She had had experiences with the male sex, this Miss Dorothy +so prim and grim. It was whispered that her heart was a tattered album +scrawled over with love-lines, but that she had shut up the volume long +ago. + +There was a tradition that she had been crossed in love; but it was the +faintest of traditions. A gay young lieutenant of marines had flirted +with her at a country ball (A.D. 1811), and then marched carelessly away +at the head of his company to the shrill music of the fife, without so +much as a sigh for the girl he left behind him. The years rolled on, the +gallant gay Lothario--which wasn't his name--married, became a father, +and then a grandfather; and at the period of which I am speaking his +grandchild was actually one of Miss Dorothy's young ladies. So, at +least, ran the story. + +The lieutenant himself was dead these many years; but Miss Dorothy never +got over his duplicity. She was convinced that the sole aim of mankind +was to win the unguarded affection of maidens, and then march off +treacherously with flying colors to the heartless music of the drum and +fife. To shield the inmates of Primrose Hall from the bitter influences +that had blighted her own early affections was Miss Dorothy's mission in +life. + +“No wolves prowling about my lambs, if you please,” said + +Miss Dorothy. “I will not allow it.” + +She was as good as her word. I don't think the boy lives who ever set +foot within the limits of Primrose Hall while the seminary was under her +charge. Perhaps if Miss Dorothy had given her young ladies a little more +liberty, they would not have thought it “such fun” to make eyes over the +white lattice fence at the young gentlemen of the Temple Grammar School. +I say perhaps; for it is one thing to manage thirty-five young ladies +and quite another thing to talk about it. + +But all Miss Dorothy's vigilance could not prevent the young folks +from meeting in the town now and then, nor could her utmost ingenuity +interrupt postal arrangements. There was no end of notes passing between +the students and the Primroses. Notes tied to the heads of arrows were +shot into dormitory windows; notes were tucked under fences, and hidden +in the trunks of decayed trees. Every thick place in the boxwood hedge +that surrounded the seminary was a possible post-office. + +It was a terrible shock to Miss Dorothy the day she unearthed a nest of +letters in one of the huge wooden urns surmounting the gateway that led +to her dovecot. It was a bitter moment to Miss Phoebe and Miss Candace +and Miss Hesba, when they had their locks of hair grimly handed back +to them by Miss Gibbs in the presence of the whole school. Girls whose +locks of hair had run the blockade in safety were particularly severe on +the offenders. But it didn't stop other notes and other tresses, and I +would like to know what can stop them while the earth holds together. + +Now when I first came to Rivermouth I looked upon girls as rather tame +company; I hadn't a spark of sentiment concerning them; but seeing my +comrades sending and receiving mysterious epistles, wearing bits of +ribbon in their button-holes and leaving packages of confectionery +(generally lemon-drops) in the hollow trunks of trees--why, I felt that +this was the proper thing to do. I resolved, as a matter of duty, to +fall in love with somebody, and I didn't care in the least who it was. +In much the same mood that Don Quixote selected the Dulcinea del Toboso +for his lady-love, I singled out one of Miss Dorothy's incomparable +young ladies for mine. + +I debated a long while whether I should not select two, but at last +settled down on one--a pale little girl with blue eyes, named Alice. I +shall not make a long story of this, for Alice made short work of +me. She was secretly in love with Pepper Whitcomb. This occasioned a +temporary coolness between Pepper and myself. + +Not disheartened, however, I placed Laura Rice--I believe it was Laura +Rice--in the vacant niche. The new idol was more cruel than the old. +The former frankly sent me to the right about, but the latter was a +deceitful lot. She wore my nosegay in her dress at the evening service +(the Primroses were marched to church three times every Sunday), she +penned me the daintiest of notes, she sent me the glossiest of ringlets +(cut, as I afterwards found out, from the stupid head of Miss Gibbs's +chamber-maid), and at the same time was holding me and my pony up to +ridicule in a series of letters written to Jack Harris. It was Harris +himself who kindly opened my eyes. + +“I tell you what, Bailey,” said that young gentleman, “Laura is an old +veteran, and carries too many guns for a youngster. She can't resist a +flirtation; I believe she'd flirt with an infant in arms. There's hardly +a fellow in the school that hasn't worn her colors and some of her hair. +She doesn't give out any more of her own hair now. It's been pretty well +used up. The demand was greater than the supply, you see. It's all very +well to correspond with Laura, but as to looking for anything serious +from her, the knowing ones don't. Hope I haven't hurt your feelings, +old boy,” (that was a soothing stroke of flattery to call me “old boy,”) +“but it was my duty as a friend and a Centipede to let you know who you +were dealing with.” + +Such was the advice given me by that time-stricken, careworn, and +embittered man of the world, who was sixteen years old if he was a day. + +I dropped Laura. In the course of the next twelve months I had perhaps +three or four similar experiences, and the conclusion was forced upon +me that I was not a boy likely to distinguish myself in this branch of +business. + +I fought shy of Primrose Hall from that moment. Smiles were smiled over +the boxwood hedge, and little hands were occasionally kissed to me; +but I only winked my eye patronizingly, and passed on. I never renewed +tender relations with Miss Gibbs's young ladies. All this occurred +during my first year and a half at Rivermouth. + +Between my studies at school, my out-door recreations, and the hurts my +vanity received, I managed to escape for the time being any very serious +attack of that love fever which, like the measles, is almost certain to +seize upon a boy sooner or later. I was not to be an exception. I was +merely biding my time. The incidents I have now to relate took place +shortly after the events described in the last chapter. + + +In a life so tranquil and circumscribed as ours in the Nutter House, a +visitor was a novelty of no little importance. The whole household awoke +from its quietude one morning when the Captain announced that a young +niece of his from New York was to spend a few weeks with us. + +The blue-chintz room, into which a ray of sun was never allowed to +penetrate, was thrown open and dusted, and its mouldy air made sweet +with a bouquet of pot-roses placed on the old-fashioned bureau. Kitty +was busy all the forenoon washing off the sidewalk and sand-papering the +great brass knocker on our front-door; and Miss Abigail was up to her +elbows in a pigeon-pie. + +I felt sure it was for no ordinary person that all these preparations +were in progress; and I was right. Miss Nelly Glentworth was no ordinary +person. I shall never believe she was. There may have been lovelier +women, though I have never seen them; there may have been more brilliant +women, though it has not been my fortune to meet them; but that there +was ever a more charming one than Nelly Glentworth is a proposition +against which I contend. + +I don't love her now. I don't think of her once in five years; and +yet it would give me a turn if in the course of my daily walk I should +suddenly come upon her eldest boy. I may say that her eldest boy was +not playing a prominent part in this life when I first made her +acquaintance. + +It was a drizzling, cheerless afternoon towards the end of summer that +a hack drew up at the door of the Nutter House. The Captain and Miss +Abigail hastened into the hall on hearing the carriage stop. In a moment +more Miss Nelly Glentworth was seated in our sitting-room undergoing +a critical examination at the hands of a small boy who lounged +uncomfortably on a settee between the windows. + +The small boy considered himself a judge of girls, and he rapidly came +to the following conclusions: That Miss Nelly was about nineteen; that +she had not given away much of her back hair, which hung in two massive +chestnut braids over her shoulders; that she was a shade too pale and a +trifle too tall; that her hands were nicely shaped and her feet much +too diminutive for daily use. He furthermore observed that her voice was +musical, and that her face lighted up with an indescribable brightness +when she smiled. + +On the whole, the small boy liked her well enough; and, satisfied that +she was not a person to be afraid of, but, on the contrary, one who +might be made quite agreeable, he departed to keep an appointment with +his friend Sir Pepper Whitcomb. + +But the next morning when Miss Glentworth came down to breakfast in a +purple dress, her face as fresh as one of the moss-roses on the bureau +upstairs, and her laugh as contagious as the merriment of a robin, the +small boy experienced a strange sensation, and mentally compared her +with the loveliest of Miss Gibbs's young ladies, and found those young +ladies wanting in the balance. + +A night's rest had wrought a wonderful change in Miss Nelly. The pallor +and weariness of the journey had passed away. I looked at her through +the toast-rack and thought I had never seen anything more winning than +her smile. + +After breakfast she went out with me to the stable to see Gypsy, and the +three of us became friends then and there. Nelly was the only girl that +Gypsy ever took the slightest notice of. + +It chanced to be a half-holiday, and a baseball match of unusual +interest was to come off on the school ground that afternoon; but, +somehow, I didn't go. I hung about the house abstractedly. The Captain +went up town, and Miss Abigail was busy in the kitchen making immortal +gingerbread. I drifted into the sitting-room, and had our guest all to +myself for I don't know how many hours. It was twilight, I recollect, +when the Captain returned with letters for Miss Nelly. + +Many a time after that I sat with her through the dreamy September +afternoons. If I had played baseball it would have been much better for +me. + +Those first days of Miss Nelly's visit are very misty in my remembrance. +I try in vain to remember just when I began to fall in love with her. +'Whether the spell worked upon me gradually or fell upon me all at once, +I don't know. I only know that it seemed to me as if I had always loved +her. Things that took place before she came were dim to me, like events +that had occurred in the Middle Ages. + +Nelly was at least five years my senior. But what of that? Adam is the +only man I ever heard of who didn't in early youth fall in love with a +woman older than himself, and I am convinced that he would have done so +if he had had the opportunity. + +I wonder if girls from fifteen to twenty are aware of the glamour they +cast over the straggling, awkward boys whom they regard and treat as +mere children? I wonder, now. Young women are so keen in such matters. +I wonder if Miss Nelly Glentworth never suspected until the very last +night of her visit at Rivermouth that I was over ears in love with her +pretty self, and was suffering pangs as poignant as if I had been +ten feet high and as old as Methuselah? For, indeed, I was miserable +throughout all those five weeks. I went down in the Latin class at the +rate of three boys a day. Her fresh young eyes came between me and my +book, and there was an end of Virgil. + + “O love, love, love! + Love is like a dizziness, + It winna let a body + Gang aboot his business.” + +I was wretched away from her, and only less wretched in her presence. +The special cause of my woe was this: I was simply a little boy to Miss +Glentworth. I knew it. I bewailed it. I ground my teeth and wept in +secret over the fact. If I had been aught else in her eyes would she +have smoothed my hair so carelessly, sending an electric shock through +my whole system? Would she have walked with me, hand in hand, for hours +in the old garden, and once when I lay on the sofa, my head aching with +love and mortification, would she have stooped down and kissed me if I +hadn't been a little boy? How I despised little boys! How I hated one +particular little boy--too little to be loved! + +I smile over this very grimly even now. My sorrow was genuine and +bitter. It is a great mistake on the part of elderly people, male and +female, to tell a child that he is seeing his happiest days. Don't you +believe a word of it, my little friend. The burdens of childhood are as +hard to bear as the crosses that weigh us down later in life, while the +happinesses of childhood are tame compared with those of our maturer +years. And even if this were not so, it is rank cruelty to throw shadows +over the young heart by croaking, “Be merry, for to-morrow you die!” + +As the last days of Nelly's visit drew near, I fell into a very +unhealthy state of mind. To have her so frank and unconsciously +coquettish with me was a daily torment; to be looked upon and treated as +a child was bitter almonds; but the thought of losing her altogether was +distraction. + +The summer was at an end. The days were perceptibly shorter, and now and +then came an evening when it was chilly enough to have a wood-fire in +our sitting-room. The leaves were beginning to take hectic tints, and +the wind was practising the minor pathetic notes of its autumnal +dirge. Nature and myself appeared to be approaching our dissolution +simultaneously-- + +One evening, the evening previous to the day set for Nelly's +departure--how well I remember it--I found her sitting alone by the wide +chimney-piece looking musingly at the crackling back log. There were +no candles in the room. On her face and hands, and on the small golden +cross at her throat, fell the flickering firelight--that ruddy, mellow +firelight in which one's grandmother would look poetical. + +I drew a low stool from the corner and placed it by the side of her +chair. She reached out her hand to me, as was her pretty fashion, and so +we sat for several moments silently in the changing glow of the burning +logs. At length I moved back the stool so that I could see her face in +profile without being seen by her. I lost her hand by this movement, but +I couldn't have spoken with the listless touch of her fingers on mine. +After two or three attempts I said “Nelly” a good deal louder than I +intended. + +Perhaps the effort it cost me was evident in my voice. She raised +herself quickly in the chair and half turned towards me. + +“Well, Tom?” + +“I--I am very sorry you are going away.” + +“So am I. I have enjoyed every hour of my visit.” + +“Do you think you will ever come back here?” + +“Perhaps,” said Nelly, and her eyes wandered off into the fitful +firelight. + +“I suppose you will forget us all very quickly.” + +“Indeed I shall not. I shall always have the pleasantest memories of +Rivermouth.” + +Here the conversation died a natural death. Nelly sank into a sort of +dream, and I meditated. Fearing every moment to be interrupted by some +member of the family, I nerved myself to make a bold dash. + +“Nelly.” + +“Well.” + +“Do you--” I hesitated. + +“Do I what?” + +“Love anyone very much?” + +“Why, of course I do,” said Nelly, scattering her revery with a merry +laugh. “I love Uncle Nutter, and Aunt Nutter, and you--and Towser.” + +Towser, our new dog! I couldn't stand that. I pushed back the stool +impatiently and stood in front of her. + +“That's not what I mean,” I said angrily. + +“Well, what do you mean?” + +“Do you love anyone to marry him?” + +“The idea of it,” cried Nelly, laughing. + +“But you must tell me.” + +“Must, Tom?” + +“Indeed you must, Nelly.” + +She had risen from the chair with an amused, perplexed look in her eyes. +I held her an instant by the dress. + +“Please tell me.” + +“O you silly boy!” cried Nelly. Then she rumpled my hair all over my +forehead and ran laughing out of the room. + +Suppose Cinderella had rumpled the prince's hair all over his forehead, +how would he have liked it? Suppose the Sleeping Beauty, when the king's +son with a kiss set her and all the old clocks agoing in the spell-bound +castle--suppose the young minx had looked up and coolly laughed in his +eye, I guess the king's son wouldn't have been greatly pleased. + +I hesitated a second or two and then rushed after Nelly just in time to +run against Miss Abigail, who entered the room with a couple of lighted +candles. + +“Goodness gracious, Tom!” exclaimed Miss Abigail. “Are you possessed?” + +I left her scraping the warm spermaceti from one of her thumbs. + +Nelly was in the kitchen talking quite unconcernedly with Kitty Collins. +There she remained until supper-time. Supper over, we all adjourned to +the sitting-room. I planned and plotted, but could manage in no way to +get Nelly alone. She and the Captain played cribbage all the evening. + +The next morning my lady did not make her appearance until we were +seated at the breakfast-table. I had got up at daylight myself. +Immediately after breakfast the carriage arrived to take her to the +railway station. A gentleman stepped from this carriage, and greatly to +my surprise was warmly welcomed by the Captain and Miss Abigail, and by +Miss Nelly herself, who seemed unnecessarily glad to see him. From the +hasty conversation that followed I learned that the gentleman had come +somewhat unexpectedly to conduct Miss Nelly to Boston. But how did he +know that she was to leave that morning? Nelly bade farewell to the +Captain and Miss Abigail, made a little rush and kissed me on the nose, +and was gone. + +As the wheels of the hack rolled up the street and over my finer +feelings, I turned to the Captain. + +“Who was that gentleman, sir?” + +“That was Mr. Waldron.” + +“A relation of yours, sir?” I asked craftily. + +“No relation of mine--a relation of Nelly's,” said the Captain, smiling. + +“A cousin,” I suggested, feeling a strange hatred spring up in my bosom +for the unknown. + +“Well, I suppose you might call him a cousin for the present. He's going +to marry little Nelly next summer.” + +In one of Peter Parley's valuable historical works is a description of +an earthquake at Lisbon. “At the first shock the inhabitants rushed into +the streets; the earth yawned at their feet and the houses tottered and +fell on every side.” I staggered past the Captain into the street; a +giddiness came over me; the earth yawned at my feet, and the houses +threatened to fall in on every side of me. How distinctly I remember +that momentary sense of confusion when everything in the world seemed +toppling over into ruins. + +As I have remarked, my love for Nelly is a thing of the past. I had not +thought of her for years until I sat down to write this chapter, and +yet, now that all is said and done, I shouldn't care particularly to +come across Mrs. Waldron's eldest boy in my afternoon's walk. He must be +fourteen or fifteen years old by this time--the young villain! + + + + +Chapter Nineteen--I Become A Blighted Being + + +When a young boy gets to be an old boy, when the hair is growing +rather thin on the top of the old boy's head, and he has been tamed +sufficiently to take a sort of chastened pleasure in allowing the baby +to play with his watch-seals--when, I say, an old boy has reached this +stage in the journey of life, he is sometimes apt to indulge in sportive +remarks concerning his first love. + +Now, though I bless my stars that it wasn't in my power to marry Miss +Nelly, I am not going to deny my boyish regard for her nor laugh at +it. As long as it lasted it was a very sincere and unselfish love, and +rendered me proportionately wretched. I say as long as it lasted, for +one's first love doesn't last forever. + +I am ready, however, to laugh at the amusing figure I cut after I had +really ceased to have any deep feeling in the matter. It was then I took +it into my head to be a Blighted Being. This was about two weeks after +the spectral appearance of Mr. Waldron. + +For a boy of a naturally vivacious disposition the part of a blighted +being presented difficulties. I had an excellent appetite, I liked +society, I liked out-of-door sports, I was fond of handsome clothes. Now +all these things were incompatible with the doleful character I was to +assume, and I proceeded to cast them from me. I neglected my hair. I +avoided my playmates. I frowned abstractedly. I didn't eat as much as +was good for me. I took lonely walks. I brooded in solitude. I not only +committed to memory the more turgid poems of the late Lord Byron--“Fare +thee well, and if forever,” &c.--but I became a despondent poet on my own +account, and composed a string of “Stanzas to One who will understand +them.” I think I was a trifle too hopeful on that point; for I came +across the verses several years afterwards, and was quite unable to +understand them myself. + +It was a great comfort to be so perfectly miserable and yet not suffer +any. I used to look in the glass and gloat over the amount and variety +of mournful expression I could throw into my features. If I caught +myself smiling at anything, I cut the smile short with a sigh. The +oddest thing about all this is, I never once suspected that I was not +unhappy. No one, not even Pepper Whitcomb, was more deceived than I. + +Among the minor pleasures of being blighted were the interest and +perplexity I excited in the simple souls that were thrown in daily +contact with me. Pepper especially. I nearly drove him into a +corresponding state of mind. + +I had from time to time given Pepper slight but impressive hints of my +admiration for Some One (this was in the early part of Miss Glentworth's +visit); I had also led him to infer that my admiration was not +altogether in vain. He was therefore unable to explain the cause of +my strange behavior, for I had carefully refrained from mentioning to +Pepper the fact that Some One had turned out to be Another's. + +I treated Pepper shabbily. I couldn't resist playing on his tenderer +feelings. He was a boy bubbling over with sympathy for anyone in any +kind of trouble. Our intimacy since Binny Wallace's death had been +uninterrupted; but now I moved in a sphere apart, not to be profaned by +the step of an outsider. + +I no longer joined the boys on the playground at recess. I stayed at my +desk reading some lugubrious volume--usually The Mysteries of Udolpho, by +the amiable Mrs. Radcliffe. A translation of The Sorrows of Werter fell +into my hands at this period, and if I could have committed suicide +without killing myself, I should certainly have done so. + +On half-holidays, instead of fraternizing with Pepper and the rest of +our clique, I would wander off alone to Grave Point. + +Grave Point--the place where Binny Wallace's body came ashore--was a +narrow strip of land running out into the river. A line of Lombardy +poplars, stiff and severe, like a row of grenadiers, mounted guard on +the water-side. On the extreme end of the peninsula was an old disused +graveyard, tenanted principally by the early settlers who had been +scalped by the Indians. In a remote corner of the cemetery, set apart +from the other mounds, was the grave of a woman who had been hanged +in the old colonial times for the murder of her infant. Goodwife Polly +Haines had denied the crime to the last, and after her death there had +arisen strong doubts as to her actual guilt. It was a belief current +among the lads of the town, that if you went to this grave at nightfall +on the 10th of November--the anniversary of her execution--and asked, “For +what did the magistrates hang you?” a voice would reply, “Nothing.” + +Many a Rivermouth boy has tremblingly put this question in the dark, +and, sure enough, Polly Haines invariably answered nothing! + +A low red-brick wall, broken down in many places and frosted over with +silvery moss, surrounded this burial-ground of our Pilgrim Fathers and +their immediate descendants. The latest date on any of the headstones +was 1780. A crop of very funny epitaphs sprung up here and there among +the overgrown thistles and burdocks, and almost every tablet had a +death's-head with cross-bones engraved upon it, or else a puffy round +face with a pair of wings stretching out from the ears, like this: + + + +Cherub Graphic + + + +These mortuary emblems furnished me with congenial food for reflection. +I used to lie in the long grass, and speculate on the advantages and +disadvantages of being a cherub. + +I forget what I thought the advantages were, but I remember distinctly +of getting into an inextricable tangle on two points: How could a +cherub, being all head and wings, manage to sit down when he was tired? +To have to sit down on the back of his head struck me as an awkward +alternative. Again: Where did a cherub carry those indispensable +articles (such as jack-knives, marbles, and pieces of twine) which +boys in an earthly state of existence usually stow away in their +trousers-pockets? + +These were knotty questions, and I was never able to dispose of them +satisfactorily. + +Meanwhile Pepper Whitcomb would scour the whole town in search of me. +He finally discovered my retreat, and dropped in on me abruptly one +afternoon, while I was deep in the cherub problem. + +“Look here, Tom Bailey!” said Pepper, shying a piece of clam-shell +indignantly at the file jacet on a neighboring gravestone. “You are just +going to the dogs! Can't you tell a fellow what in thunder ails you, +instead of prowling round among the tombs like a jolly old vampire?” + +“Pepper,” I replied, solemnly, “don't ask me. All is not well +here”--touching my breast mysteriously. If I had touched my head instead, +I should have been nearer the mark. + +Pepper stared at me. + +“Earthly happiness,” I continued, “is a delusion and a snare. You will +never be happy, Pepper, until you are a cherub.” + +Pepper, by the by, would have made an excellent cherub, he was so +chubby. Having delivered myself of these gloomy remarks, I arose +languidly from the grass and moved away, leaving Pepper staring after +me in mute astonishment. I was Hamlet and Werter and the late Lord Byron +all in one. + +You will ask what my purpose was in cultivating this factitious +despondency. None whatever. Blighted beings never have any purpose in +life excepting to be as blighted as possible. + +Of course my present line of business could not long escape the eye of +Captain Nutter. I don't know if the Captain suspected my attachment for +Miss Glentworth. He never alluded to it; but he watched me. Miss Abigail +watched me, Kitty Collins watched me, and Sailor Ben watched me. + +“I can't make out his signals,” I overheard the Admiral remark to my +grandfather one day. “I hope he ain't got no kind of sickness aboard.” + +There was something singularly agreeable in being an object of so great +interest. Sometimes I had all I could do to preserve my dejected aspect, +it was so pleasant to be miserable. I incline to the opinion that +people who are melancholy without any particular reason, such as poets, +artists, and young musicians with long hair, have rather an enviable +time of it. In a quiet way I never enjoyed myself better in my life than +when I was a Blighted Being. + + + + +Chapter Twenty--I Prove Myself To Be the Grandson of My Grandfather + + +It was not possible for a boy of my temperament to be a blighted being +longer than three consecutive weeks. + +I was gradually emerging from my self-imposed cloud when events took +place that greatly assisted in restoring me to a more natural frame of +mind. I awoke from an imaginary trouble to face a real one. + +I suppose you don't know what a financial crisis is? I will give you an +illustration. + +You are deeply in debt--say to the amount of a quarter of a dollar--to the +little knicknack shop round the corner, where they sell picture-papers, +spruce-gum, needles, and Malaga raisins. A boy owes you a quarter of a +dollar, which he promises to pay at a certain time. You are depending +on this quarter to settle accounts with the small shop-keeper. The +time arrives--and the quarter doesn't. That's a financial crisis, in one +sense--twenty-five senses, if I may say so. + +When this same thing happens, on a grander scale, in the mercantile +world, it produces what is called a panic. One man's inability to pay +his debts ruins another man, who, in turn, ruins someone else, and +so on, until failure after failure makes even the richest capitalists +tremble. Public confidence is suspended, and the smaller fry of +merchants are knocked over like tenpins. + +These commercial panics occur periodically, after the fashion of comets +and earthquakes and other disagreeable things. + +Such a panic took place in New Orleans in the year 18--, and my father's +banking-house went to pieces in the crash. + +Of a comparatively large fortune nothing remained after paying his debts +excepting a few thousand dollars, with which he proposed to return North +and embark in some less hazardous enterprise. In the meantime it was +necessary for him to stay in New Orleans to wind up the business. + +My grandfather was in some way involved in this failure, and lost, I +fancy, a considerable sum of money; but he never talked much on the +subject. He was an unflinching believer in the spilt-milk proverb. + +“It can't be gathered up,” he would say, “and it's no use crying over +it. Pitch into the cow and get some more milk, is my motto.” + +The suspension of the banking-house was bad enough, but there was an +attending circumstance that gave us, at Rivermouth, a great deal more +anxiety. The cholera, which someone predicted would visit the country +that year, and which, indeed, had made its appearance in a mild form +at several points along the Mississippi River, had broken out with much +violence at New Orleans. + +The report that first reached us through the newspapers was meagre and +contradictory; many people discredited it; but a letter from my mother +left us no room for doubt. The sickness was in the city. The hospitals +were filling up, and hundreds of the citizens were flying from the +stricken place by every steamboat. The unsettled state of my father's +affairs made it imperative for him to remain at his post; his desertion +at that moment would have been at the sacrifice of all he had saved from +the general wreck. + +As he would be detained in New Orleans at least three months, my mother +declined to come North without him. + +After this we awaited with feverish impatience the weekly news that came +to us from the South. The next letter advised us that my parents were +well, and that the sickness, so far, had not penetrated to the faubourg, +or district, where they lived. The following week brought less cheering +tidings. My father's business, in consequence of the flight of the other +partners, would keep him in the city beyond the period he had mentioned. +The family had moved to Pass Christian, a favorite watering-place on +Lake Pontchartrain, near New Orleans, where he was able to spend part of +each week. So the return North was postponed indefinitely. + +It was now that the old longing to see my parents came back to me with +irresistible force. I knew my grandfather would not listen to the +idea of my going to New Orleans at such a dangerous time, since he had +opposed the journey so strongly when the same objection did not exist. +But I determined to go nevertheless. + +I think I have mentioned the fact that all the male members of our +family, on my father's side--as far back as the Middle Ages--have +exhibited in early youth a decided talent for running away. It was an +hereditary talent. It ran in the blood to run away. I do not pretend to +explain the peculiarity. I simply admit it. + +It was not my fate to change the prescribed order of things. I, too, was +to run away, thereby proving, if any proof were needed, that I was the +grandson of my grandfather. I do not hold myself responsible for the +step any more than I do for the shape of my nose, which is said to be a +facsimile of Captain Nutter's. + +I have frequently noticed how circumstances conspire to help a man, or +a boy, when he has thoroughly resolved on doing a thing. That very week +the Rivermouth Barnacle printed an advertisement that seemed to have +been written on purpose for me. It read as follows: + +WANTED. A Few Able-bodied Seamen and a Cabin-Boy, for the ship Rawlings, +now loading for New Orleans at Johnson's Wharf, Boston. Apply in person, +within four days, at the office of Messrs.--& Co., or on board the Ship. + +How I was to get to New Orleans with only $4.62 was a question that had +been bothering me. This advertisement made it as clear as day. I would +go as cabin-boy. + +I had taken Pepper into my confidence again; I had told him the story +of my love for Miss Glentworth, with all its harrowing details; and now +conceived it judicious to confide in him the change about to take place +in my life, so that, if the Rawlings went down in a gale, my friends +might have the limited satisfaction of knowing what had become of me. + +Pepper shook his head discouragingly, and sought in every way to +dissuade me from the step. He drew a disenchanting picture of the +existence of a cabin-boy, whose constant duty (according to Pepper) was +to have dishes broken over his head whenever the captain or the mate +chanced to be out of humor, which was mostly all the time. But nothing +Pepper said could turn me a hair's-breadth from my purpose. + +I had little time to spare, for the advertisement stated explicitly that +applications were to be made in person within four days. I trembled +to think of the bare possibility of some other boy snapping up that +desirable situation. + +It was on Monday that I stumbled upon the advertisement. On Tuesday my +preparations were completed. My baggage--consisting of four shirts, half +a dozen collars, a piece of shoemaker's wax, (Heaven knows what for!) +and seven stockings, wrapped in a silk handkerchief--lay hidden under a +loose plank of the stable floor. This was my point of departure. + +My plan was to take the last train for Boston, in order to prevent the +possibility of immediate pursuit, if any should be attempted. The train +left at 4 P.M. + +I ate no breakfast and little dinner that day. I avoided the Captain's +eye, and wouldn't have looked Miss Abigail or Kitty in the face for the +wealth of the Indies. + +When it was time to start for the station I retired quietly to the +stable and uncovered my bundle. I lingered a moment to kiss the white +star on Gypsy's forehead, and was nearly unmanned when the little animal +returned the caress by lapping my cheek. Twice I went back and patted +her. + +On reaching the station I purchased my ticket with a bravado air that +ought to have aroused the suspicion of the ticket-master, and hurried to +the car, where I sat fidgeting until the train shot out into the broad +daylight. + +Then I drew a long breath and looked about me. The first object that +saluted my sight was Sailor Ben, four or five seats behind me, reading +the Rivermouth Barnacle! + +Reading was not an easy art to Sailor Ben; he grappled with the sense of +a paragraph as if it were a polar-bear, and generally got the worst of +it. On the present occasion he was having a hard struggle, judging by +the way he worked his mouth and rolled his eyes. He had evidently not +seen me. But what was he doing on the Boston train? + +Without lingering to solve the question, I stole gently from my seat and +passed into the forward car. + +This was very awkward, having the Admiral on board. I couldn't +understand it at all. Could it be possible that the old boy had got +tired of land and was running away to sea himself? That was too absurd. +I glanced nervously towards the car door now and then, half expecting to +see him come after me. + +We had passed one or two way-stations, and I had quieted down a good +deal, when I began to feel as if somebody was looking steadily at the +back of my head. I turned round involuntarily, and there was Sailor +Ben again, at the farther end of the car, wrestling with the Rivermouth +Barnacle as before. + +I began to grow very uncomfortable indeed. Was it by design or chance +that he thus dogged my steps? If he was aware of my presence, why didn't +he speak to me at once? 'Why did he steal round, making no sign, like a +particularly unpleasant phantom? Maybe it wasn't Sailor Ben. I peeped at +him slyly. There was no mistaking that tanned, genial phiz of his. Very +odd he didn't see me! + +Literature, even in the mild form of a country newspaper, always had the +effect of poppies on the Admiral. 'When I stole another glance in his +direction his hat was tilted over his right eye in the most dissolute +style, and the Rivermouth Barnacle lay in a confused heap beside him. He +had succumbed. He was fast asleep. If he would only keep asleep until we +reached our destination! + +By and by I discovered that the rear car had been detached from the +train at the last stopping-place. This accounted satisfactorily for +Sailor Ben's singular movements, and considerably calmed my fears. +Nevertheless, I did not like the aspect of things. + +The Admiral continued to snooze like a good fellow, and was snoring +melodiously as we glided at a slackened pace over a bridge and into +Boston. + +I grasped my pilgrim's bundle, and, hurrying out of the car, dashed up +the first street that presented itself. + +It was a narrow, noisy, zigzag street, crowded with trucks and +obstructed with bales and boxes of merchandise. I didn't pause to +breathe until I had placed a respectable distance between me and the +railway station. By this time it was nearly twilight. + +I had got into the region of dwelling-houses, and was about to seat +myself on a doorstep to rest, when, lo! there was the Admiral trundling +along on the opposite sidewalk, under a full spread of canvas, as he +would have expressed it. + +I was off again in an instant at a rapid pace; but in spite of all I +could do he held his own without any perceptible exertion. He had a very +ugly gait to get away from, the Admiral. I didn't dare to run, for +fear of being mistaken for a thief, a suspicion which my bundle would +naturally lend color to. + +I pushed ahead, however, at a brisk trot, and must have got over one or +two miles--my pursuer neither gaining nor losing ground--when I concluded +to surrender at discretion. I saw that Sailor Ben was determined to have +me, and, knowing my man, I knew that escape was highly improbable. + +So I turned round and waited for him to catch up with me, which he did +in a few seconds, looking rather sheepish at first. + +“Sailor Ben,” said I, severely, “do I understand that you are dogging my +steps?” + +“'Well, little mess-mate,” replied the Admiral, rubbing his nose, which +he always did when he was disconcerted, “I am kind o' followin' in your +wake.” + +“Under orders?” + +“Under orders.” + +“Under the Captain's orders?” + +“Surely.” + +“In other words, my grandfather has sent you to fetch me back to +Rivermouth?” + +“That's about it,” said the Admiral, with a burst of frankness. + +“And I must go with you whether I want to or not?” + +“The Capen's very identical words!” + +There was nothing to be done. I bit my lips with suppressed anger, and +signified that I was at his disposal, since I couldn't help it. The +impression was very strong in my mind that the Admiral wouldn't hesitate +to put me in irons if I showed signs of mutiny. + +It was too late to return to Rivermouth that night--a fact which I +communicated to the old boy sullenly, inquiring at the same time what he +proposed to do about it. + +He said we would cruise about for some rations, and then make a night +of it. I didn't condescend to reply, though I hailed the suggestion of +something to eat with inward enthusiasm, for I had not taken enough food +that day to keep life in a canary. + +'We wandered back to the railway station, in the waiting room of which +was a kind of restaurant presided over by a severe-looking young lady. +Here we had a cup of coffee apiece, several tough doughnuts, and some +blocks of venerable spongecake. The young lady who attended on us, +whatever her age was then, must have been a mere child when that +sponge-cake was made. + +The Admiral's acquaintance with Boston hotels was slight; but he knew +of a quiet lodging-house near by, much patronized by sea-captains, and +kept by a former friend of his. + +In this house, which had seen its best days, we were accommodated with +a mouldy chamber containing two cot-beds, two chairs, and a cracked +pitcher on a washstand. The mantel-shelf was ornamented with three big +pink conch-shells, resembling pieces of petrified liver; and over these +hung a cheap lurid print, in which a United States sloop-of-war was +giving a British frigate particular fits. It is very strange how our own +ships never seem to suffer any in these terrible engagements. It shows +what a nation we are. + +An oil-lamp on a deal-table cast a dismal glare over the apartment, +which was cheerless in the extreme. I thought of our sitting-room at +home, with its flowery wall-paper and gay curtains and soft lounges; I +saw Major Elkanah Nutter (my grandfather's father) in powdered wig and +Federal uniform, looking down benevolently from his gilt frame between +the bookcases; I pictured the Captain and Miss Abigail sitting at the +cosey round table in the moon-like glow of the astral lamp; and then I +fell to wondering how they would receive me when I came back. I wondered +if the Prodigal Son had any idea that his father was going to kill the +fatted calf for him, and how he felt about it, on the whole. + +Though I was very low in spirits, I put on a bold front to Sailor +Ben, you will understand. To be caught and caged in this manner was a +frightful shock to my vanity. He tried to draw me into conversation; +but I answered in icy monosyllables. He again suggested we should make +a night of it, and hinted broadly that he was game for any amount of +riotous dissipation, even to the extent of going to see a play if I +wanted to. I declined haughtily. I was dying to go. + +He then threw out a feeler on the subject of dominos and checkers, and +observed in a general way that “seven up” was a capital game; but I +repulsed him at every point. + +I saw that the Admiral was beginning to feel hurt by my systematic +coldness. 'We had always been such hearty friends until now. It was +too bad of me to fret that tender, honest old heart even for an hour. +I really did love the ancient boy, and when, in a disconsolate way, he +ordered up a pitcher of beer, I unbent so far as to partake of some in a +teacup. He recovered his spirits instantly, and took out his cuddy clay +pipe for a smoke. + +Between the beer and the soothing fragrance of the navy-plug, I fell +into a pleasanter mood myself, and, it being too late now to go to the +theatre, I condescended to say--addressing the northwest corner of the +ceiling--that “seven up” was a capital game. Upon this hint the Admiral +disappeared, and returned shortly with a very dirty pack of cards. + +As we played, with varying fortunes, by the flickering flame of the +lamp, he sipped his beer and became communicative. He seemed immensely +tickled by the fact that I had come to Boston. It leaked out presently +that he and the Captain had had a wager on the subject. + +The discovery of my plans and who had discovered them were points on +which the Admiral refused to throw any light. They had been discovered, +however, and the Captain had laughed at the idea of my running away. +Sailor Ben, on the contrary, had stoutly contended that I meant to slip +cable and be off. Whereupon the Captain offered to bet him a dollar that +I wouldn't go. And it was partly on account of this wager that Sailor +Ben refrained from capturing me when he might have done so at the start. + +Now, as the fare to and from Boston, with the lodging expenses, would +cost him at least five dollars, I didn't see what he gained by winning +the wager. The Admiral rubbed his nose violently when this view of the +case presented itself. + +I asked him why he didn't take me from the train at the first +stopping-place and return to Rivermouth by the down train at 4.30. He +explained having purchased a ticket for Boston, he considered himself +bound to the owners (the stockholders of the road) to fulfil his part of +the contract! To use his own words, he had “shipped for the viage.” + +This struck me as being so deliciously funny, that after I was in bed +and the light was out, I couldn't help laughing aloud once or twice. I +suppose the Admiral must have thought I was meditating another escape, +for he made periodical visits to my bed throughout the night, satisfying +himself by kneading me all over that I hadn't evaporated. + +I was all there the next morning, when Sailor Ben half awakened me by +shouting merrily, “All hands on deck!” The words rang in my ears like a +part of my own dream, for I was at that instant climbing up the side of +the Rawlings to offer myself as cabin-boy. + +The Admiral was obliged to shake me roughly two or three times before he +could detach me from the dream. I opened my eyes with effort, and stared +stupidly round the room. Bit by bit my real situation dawned on me. +'What a sickening sensation that is, when one is in trouble, to wake up +feeling free for a moment, and then to find yesterday's sorrow all ready +to go on again! + +“'Well, little messmate, how fares it?” + +I was too much depressed to reply. The thought of returning to +Rivermouth chilled me. How could I face Captain Nutter, to say nothing +of Miss Abigail and Kitty? How the Temple Grammar School boys would look +at me! How Conway and Seth Rodgers would exult over my mortification! +And what if the Rev. Wibird Hawkins should allude to me in his next +Sunday's sermon? + +Sailor Ben was wise in keeping an eye on me, for after these thoughts +took possession of my mind, I wanted only the opportunity to give him +the slip. + +The keeper of the lodgings did not supply meals to his guests; so we +breakfasted at a small chophouse in a crooked street on our way to the +cars. The city was not astir yet, and looked glum and careworn in the +damp morning atmosphere. + +Here and there as we passed along was a sharp-faced shop-boy taking down +shutters; and now and then we met a seedy man who had evidently spent +the night in a doorway. Such early birds and a few laborers with their +tin kettles were the only signs of life to be seen until we came to the +station, where I insisted on paying for my own ticket. I didn't relish +being conveyed from place to place, like a felon changing prisons, at +somebody else's expense. + +On entering the car I sunk into a seat next the window, and Sailor Ben +deposited himself beside me, cutting off all chance of escape. + +The car filled up soon after this, and I wondered if there was anything +in my mien that would lead the other passengers to suspect I was a boy +who had run away and was being brought back. + +A man in front of us--he was near-sighted, as I discovered later by his +reading a guide-book with his nose--brought the blood to my cheeks by +turning round and peering at me steadily. I rubbed a clear spot on the +cloudy window-glass at my elbow, and looked out to avoid him. + +There, in the travellers' room, was the severe-looking young lady piling +up her blocks of sponge-cake in alluring pyramids and industriously +intrenching herself behind a breastwork of squash-pie. I saw with +cynical pleasure numerous victims walk up to the counter and recklessly +sow the seeds of death in their constitutions by eating her doughnuts. I +had got quite interested in her, when the whistle sounded and the train +began to move. + +The Admiral and I did not talk much on the journey. I stared out of the +window most of the time, speculating as to the probable nature of the +reception in store for me at the terminus of the road. + +'What would the Captain say? and Mr. Grimshaw, what would he do about +it? Then I thought of Pepper Whitcomb. Dire was the vengeance I meant to +wreak on Pepper, for who but he had betrayed me? Pepper alone had been +the repository of my secret--perfidious Pepper! + +As we left station after station behind us, I felt less and less like +encountering the members of our family. Sailor Ben fathomed what was +passing in my mind, for he leaned over and said: + +“I don't think as the Capen will bear down very hard on you.” + +But it wasn't that. It wasn't the fear of any physical punishment that +might be inflicted; it was a sense of my own folly that was creeping +over me; for during the long, silent ride I had examined my conduct from +every stand-point, and there was no view I could take of myself in which +I did not look like a very foolish person indeed. + +As we came within sight of the spires of Rivermouth, I wouldn't have +cared if the up train, which met us outside the town, had run into us +and ended me. + +Contrary to my expectation and dread, the Captain was not visible when +we stepped from the cars. Sailor Ben glanced among the crowd of faces, +apparently looking for him too. Conway was there--he was always hanging +about the station--and if he had intimated in any way that he knew of my +disgrace and enjoyed it, I should have walked into him, I am certain. + +But this defiant feeling entirely deserted me by the time we reached the +Nutter House. The Captain himself opened the door. + +“Come on board, sir,” said Sailor Ben, scraping his left foot and +touching his hat sea-fashion. + +My grandfather nodded to Sailor Ben, somewhat coldly I thought, and much +to my astonishment kindly took me by the hand. + +I was unprepared for this, and the tears, which no amount of severity +would have wrung from me, welled up to my eyes. + +The expression of my grandfather's face, as I glanced at it hastily, +was grave and gentle; there was nothing in it of anger or reproof. I +followed him into the sitting-room, and, obeying a motion of his hand, +seated myself on the sofa. He remained standing by the round table for a +moment, lost in thought, then leaned over and picked up a letter. + +It was a letter with a great black seal. + + + + +Chapter Twenty-One--In Which I Leave Rivermouth + + +A letter with a great black seal! + +I knew then what had happened as well as I know it now. But which +was it, father or mother? I do not like to look back to the agony and +suspense of that moment. + +My father had died at New Orleans during one of his weekly visits to +the city. The letter bearing these tidings had reached Rivermouth the +evening of my flight--had passed me on the road by the down train. + +I must turn back for a moment to that eventful evening. When I failed +to make my appearance at supper, the Captain began to suspect that I had +really started on my wild tour southward--a conjecture which Sailor Ben's +absence helped to confirm. I had evidently got off by the train and +Sailor Ben had followed me. + +There was no telegraphic communication between Boston and Rivermouth +in those days; so my grandfather could do nothing but await the result. +Even if there had been another mail to Boston, he could not have availed +himself of it, not knowing how to address a message to the fugitives. +The post-office was naturally the last place either I or the Admiral +would think of visiting. + +My grandfather, however, was too full of trouble to allow this to add to +his distress. He knew that the faithful old sailor would not let me come +to any harm, and even if I had managed for the time being to elude him, +was sure to bring me back sooner or later. + +Our return, therefore, by the first train on the following day did not +surprise him. + +I was greatly puzzled, as I have said, by the gentle manner of his +reception; but when we were alone together in the sitting-room, and he +began slowly to unfold the letter, I understood it all. I caught a sight +of my mother's handwriting in the superscription, and there was nothing +left to tell me. + +My grandfather held the letter a few seconds irresolutely, and then +commenced reading it aloud; but he could get no further than the date. + +“I can't read it, Tom,” said the old gentleman, breaking down. “I +thought I could.” + +He handed it to me. I took the letter mechanically, and hurried away +with it to my little room, where I had passed so many happy hours. + +The week that followed the receipt of this letter is nearly a blank in +my memory. I remember that the days appeared endless; that at times +I could not realize the misfortune that had befallen us, and my heart +upbraided me for not feeling a deeper grief; that a full sense of my +loss would now and then sweep over me like an inspiration, and I would +steal away to my chamber or wander forlornly about the gardens. I +remember this, but little more. + +As the days went by my first grief subsided, and in its place grew up +a want which I have experienced at every step in life from boyhood to +manhood. Often, even now, after all these years, when I see a lad of +twelve or fourteen walking by his father's side, and glancing merrily +up at his face, I turn and look after them, and am conscious that I have +missed companionship most sweet and sacred. + +I shall not dwell on this portion of my story. There were many tranquil, +pleasant hours in store for me at that period, and I prefer to turn to +them. + + +One evening the Captain came smiling into the sitting-room with an open +letter in his hand. My mother had arrived at New York, and would be +with us the next day. For the first time in weeks--years, it seemed to +me--something of the old cheerfulness mingled with our conversation round +the evening lamp. I was to go to Boston with the Captain to meet her and +bring her home. I need not describe that meeting. With my mother's hand +in mine once more, all the long years we had been parted appeared like a +dream. Very dear to me was the sight of that slender, pale woman +passing from room to room, and lending a patient grace and beauty to the +saddened life of the old house. + +Everything was changed with us now. There were consultations with +lawyers, and signing of papers, and correspondence; for my father's +affairs had been left in great confusion. And when these were settled, +the evenings were not long enough for us to hear all my mother had to +tell of the scenes she had passed through in the ill-fated city. + +Then there were old times to talk over, full of reminiscences of Aunt +Chloe and little Black Sam. Little Black Sam, by the by, had been taken +by his master from my father's service ten months previously, and put on +a sugar-plantation near Baton Rouge. Not relishing the change, Sam had +run away, and by some mysterious agency got into Canada, from which +place he had sent back several indecorous messages to his late owner. +Aunt Chloe was still in New Orleans, employed as nurse in one of the +cholera hospital wards, and the Desmoulins, near neighbors of ours, had +purchased the pretty stone house among the orange-trees. + +How all these simple details interested me will be readily understood by +any boy who has been long absent from home. + +I was sorry when it became necessary to discuss questions more nearly +affecting myself. I had been removed from school temporarily, but it +was decided, after much consideration, that I should not return, the +decision being left, in a manner, in my own hands. + +The Captain wished to carry out his son's intention and send me to +college, for which I was nearly fitted; but our means did not admit of +this. The Captain, too, could ill afford to bear the expense, for his +losses by the failure of the New Orleans business had been heavy. Yet he +insisted on the plan, not seeing clearly what other disposal to make of +me. + +In the midst of our discussions a letter came from my Uncle Snow, +a merchant in New York, generously offering me a place in his +counting-house. The case resolved itself into this: If I went to +college, I should have to be dependent on Captain Nutter for several +years, and at the end of the collegiate course would have no settled +profession. If I accepted my uncle's offer, I might hope to work my +way to independence without loss of time. It was hard to give up the +long-cherished dream of being a Harvard boy; but I gave it up. + +The decision once made, it was Uncle Snow's wish that I should enter +his counting-house immediately. The cause of my good uncle's haste was +this--he was afraid that I would turn out to be a poet before he could +make a merchant of me. His fears were based upon the fact that I had +published in the Rivermouth Barnacle some verses addressed in a familiar +manner “To the Moon.” Now, the idea of a boy, with his living to get, +placing himself in communication with the Moon, struck the mercantile +mind as monstrous. It was not only a bad investment, it was lunacy. + +'We adopted Uncle Snow's views so far as to accede to his proposition +forthwith. My mother, I neglected to say, was also to reside in New +York. + +I shall not draw a picture of Pepper Whitcomb's disgust when the news +was imparted to him, nor attempt to paint Sailor Ben's distress at the +prospect of losing his little messmate. + +In the excitement of preparing for the journey I didn't feel any very +deep regret myself. But when the moment came for leaving, and I saw my +small trunk lashed up behind the carriage, then the pleasantness of the +old life and a vague dread of the new came over me, and a mist filled my +eyes, shutting out the group of schoolfellows, including all the members +of the Centipede Club, who had come down to the house to see me off. + +As the carriage swept round the corner, I leaned out of the window to +take a last look at Sailor Ben's cottage, and there was the Admiral's +flag flying at half-mast. + +So I left Rivermouth, little dreaming that I was not to see the old +place again for many and many a year. + + + + +Chapter Twenty-Two--Exeunt Omnes + + +With the close of my school-days at Rivermouth this modest chronicle +ends. + +The new life upon which I entered, the new friends and foes I +encountered on the road, and what I did and what I did not, are matters +that do not come within the scope of these pages. But before I write +Finis to the record as it stands, before I leave it--feeling as if I +were once more going away from my boyhood--I have a word or two to say +concerning a few of the personages who have figured in the story, if you +will allow me to call Gypsy a personage. + +I am sure that the reader who has followed me thus far will be willing +to hear what became of her, and Sailor Ben and Miss Abigail and the +Captain. + +First about Gypsy. A month after my departure from Rivermouth the Captain +informed me by letter that he had parted with the little mare, according +to agreement. She had been sold to the ring-master of a travelling +circus (I had stipulated on this disposal of her), and was about to set +out on her travels. She did not disappoint my glowing anticipations, but +became quite a celebrity in her way--by dancing the polka to slow music +on a pine-board ball-room constructed for the purpose. + +I chanced once, a long while afterwards, to be in a country town where +her troupe was giving exhibitions; I even read the gaudily illumined +show-bill, setting forth the accomplishments of Zuleika, the famed +Arabian Trick Pony--but I failed to recognize my dear little Mustang +girl behind those high-sounding titles, and so, alas, did not attend the +performance! I hope all the praises she received and all the spangled +trappings she wore did not spoil her; but I am afraid they did, for she +was always over much given to the vanities of this world! + +Miss Abigail regulated the domestic destinies of my grandfather's +household until the day of her death, which Dr. Theophilus Tredick +solemnly averred was hastened by the inveterate habit she had contracted +of swallowing unknown quantities of hot-drops whenever she fancied +herself out of sorts. Eighty-seven empty phials were found in a +bonnet-box on a shelf in her bedroom closet. + +The old house became very lonely when the family got reduced to Captain +Nutter and Kitty; and when Kitty passed away, my grandfather divided his +time between Rivermouth and New York. + +Sailor Ben did not long survive his little Irish lass, as he always +fondly called her. At his demise, which took place about six years +since, he left his property in trust to the managers of a “Home for Aged +Mariners.” In his will, which was a very whimsical document--written by +himself, and worded with much shrewdness, too--he warned the Trustees +that when he got “aloft” he intended to keep his “weather eye” on them, +and should send “a speritual shot across their bows” and bring them to, +if they didn't treat the Aged Mariners handsomely. + +He also expressed a wish to have his body stitched up in a shotted +hammock and dropped into the harbor; but as he did not strenuously +insist on this, and as it was not in accordance with my grandfather's +preconceived notions of Christian burial, the Admiral was laid to rest +beside Kitty, in the Old South Burying Ground, with an anchor that would +have delighted him neatly carved on his headstone. + +I am sorry the fire has gone out in the old ship's stove in that +sky-blue cottage at the head of the wharf; I am sorry they have taken +down the flag-staff and painted over the funny port-holes; for I loved +the old cabin as it was. They might have let it alone! + +For several months after leaving Rivermouth I carried on a voluminous +correspondence with Pepper Whitcomb; but it gradually dwindled down to a +single letter a month, and then to none at all. But while he remained +at the Temple Grammar School he kept me advised of the current gossip of +the town and the doings of the Centipedes. + +As one by one the boys left the academy--Adams, Harris, Marden, Blake, +and Langdon--to seek their fortunes elsewhere, there was less to interest +me in the old seaport; and when Pepper himself went to Philadelphia to +read law, I had no one to give me an inkling of what was going on. + +There wasn't much to go on, to be sure. Great events no longer +considered it worth their while to honor so quiet a place. + +One Fourth of July the Temple Grammar School burnt down--set on fire, it +was supposed, by an eccentric squib that was seen to bolt into an upper +window--and Mr. Grimshaw retired from public life, married, “and lived +happily ever after,” as the story-books say. + +The Widow Conway, I am able to state, did not succeed in enslaving Mr. +Meeks, the apothecary, who united himself clandestinely to one of Miss +Dorothy Gibbs's young ladies, and lost the patronage of Primrose Hall in +consequence. + +Young Conway went into the grocery business with his ancient chum, +Rodgers--RODGERS & CONWAY! I read the sign only last summer when I was +down in Rivermouth, and had half a mind to pop into the shop and shake +hands with him, and ask him if he wanted to fight. I contented myself, +however, with flattening my nose against his dingy shop-window, and +beheld Conway, in red whiskers and blue overalls, weighing out sugar for +a customer--giving him short weight, I'll bet anything! + +I have reserved my pleasantest word for the last. It is touching the +Captain. The Captain is still hale and rosy, and if he doesn't relate +his exploit in the War of 1812 as spiritedly as he used to, he makes up +by relating it more frequently and telling it differently every time! +He passes his winters in New York and his summers in the Nutter House, +which threatens to prove a hard nut for the destructive gentleman with +the scythe and the hour-glass, for the seaward gable has not yielded a +clapboard to the eastwind these twenty years. The Captain has now become +the Oldest Inhabitant in Rivermouth, and so I don't laugh at the Oldest +Inhabitant any more, but pray in my heart that he may occupy the post of +honor for half a century to come! + +So ends the Story of a Bad Boy--but not such a very bad boy, as I told +you to begin with. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Story of a Bad Boy, by Thomas Bailey Aldrich + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF A BAD BOY *** + +***** This file should be named 1948-0.txt or 1948-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/4/1948/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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