A NEW MISSION FOR THE BEECH-HILL SCHOOL.
It was within two weeks of the time for the opening of the Beech-Hill
Industrial School. Only one-half of the students for the coming year had
been engaged, and this was the circumstance which had given the
principal so much thought during the summer. It was not that there was a
lack of applicants; for, while he could accept only sixteen in addition
to the number which remained over, he had more than a hundred
applications for admission.
The subject had almost elevated itself to a question of political
economy in the mind of the old shipmaster. He found that more than
one-half of his pupils in the past had been the sons of wealthy or
well-to-do people, who were abundantly able to pay for the tuition of
their sons, including all the branches pursued in his school. He had
come to the conclusion that he could make a better use of his money than
in educating the children of those who were able to pay for it. The
institution was no longer an experiment, and the most important question
was in regard to those who should be selected to receive its benefits.
Captain Gildrock had come to feel that he ought to provide for those who
were not able to provide for themselves. He could render a greater
service to the community in which he lived, by fitting for usefulness
those who were neglected by their parents, or who could not be
controlled by them, than by instructing those who needed no assistance.
He had demonstrated the problem he had undertaken to solve, and now he
felt that he ought to make the school as serviceable as possible to the
State.
With this question in his mind he had looked over the list of
applicants, with the description of each. Against nearly the whole of
the questions in the printed form of application, which related to the
financial ability of the parents, it was written that they were wealthy,
or that they were well off. With his new views of duty, he had been able
to select only four whom he was willing to accept. He would not take
pupils at a price, and those who were able to pay for the education they
desired for their sons could establish such a school as that at Beech
Hill.
The taking of the Goldwing, and the capture of Tom Topover and his gang,
intensified his reflections over the problem. If he could reform and
reconstruct such bruisers, and make them capable of taking care of
themselves, as well as become useful members of society, he would render
a more acceptable service to the community than he could by instructing
boys whose parents were able to pay their tuition-bills.
The event narrated in this story enabled him to come to a conclusion. He
knew all about the Topovers. They had been a nuisance in the town for
years, and their parents could do nothing with them. They would not
work, though their parents needed the little they could earn. They were
very irregular at school when they pretended to go, and they had no
correct views in regard to the rights of property. So far as he could
inform himself, they had average ability, and were capable of being made
into decent men, to say the least.
Of the original Topovers there were only four, though they had been
recruited by two more as rough as themselves. These were the six who had
been captured in the Goldwing; and they were now on the forecastle, in
charge of Bates, while the six who had put out the fire were with the
captain in his library. The principal had considered what effect the
admission to the school of such fellows as Tom Topover, Kidd Digfield,
and the others would have upon the _morale_ and the discipline of the
institution. If he could not reform them, he could keep them under a
sharp discipline, and they would have little power to contaminate
others.
"Ashley Burton, I have finished my examination of this case; and I shall
not prosecute you, as I intended at first," said the principal, opening
the subject of the interview.
"Thank you, sir!" exclaimed Sam Spottwood.
The others said as much as this, and they were certainly very grateful
to the captain for his indulgence.
"I took out the picnic-party for the purpose of ascertaining the facts.
The gentleman in charge of the party spoke very well of you, and fully
confirmed the statement you made to me. I think you are sincerely
penitent for the wrong you have done. If you had left the Goldwing at
the wharf when you went ashore first, I should have found no fault with
you for taking her, I should say that you had done just right; though it
was constructively and technically wrong for you to unmoor the boat,
even if you had lost your dinner and your supper. I am not a close
constructionist."
"You are very kind, sir," added Sam, who was more demonstrative than the
others.
"I had started in my buggy to intercept you as you came home from the
picnic. On my way, there was an alarm of fire; and I soon heard that the
house of the Widow Sankland had been burned, and one of the children had
lost its life. This was a mistake, for I met the engine returning from
the fire. I went to see Captain Linder, who is the foreman of the
company; and he spoke in the highest terms of your conduct, and the good
judgment you used in managing the fire. No doubt you saved the life of
the child, and the house from total destruction."
"Ash Burton was the leader, and told us what to do," interposed Sam
Spottwood.
"You all did well, and you are worthy of praise. What you did at the
fire is not an offset for the wrong you did on the lake; for a good deed
will not balance an evil one, though it may modify our judgment of the
evil-doer. I have nothing more to say to you now, and I am confident you
will not again meddle with any property of the institution."
"We will not, sir," replied Ash, as he took the dozen half-dollars from
his pocket, and tendered them to the principal. "These do not belong to
me, or to any of us. They were earned with Dory's boat."
"The money certainly does not belong to you; and, obtained as it was, I
am not willing that you should retain and enjoy it," replied the
principal. "We do not let the boats under any circumstances, and we do
not need any money they might earn. I have spoken to Dory about the
matter, and he left it entirely to me. I have decided what shall be done
with it. It shall be given to the Widow Sankland, who needs it more than
you or your parents, though they may not be very well off. You may carry
the money to her to-night, Ashley, if you are willing to do so."
"Perfectly willing, sir; and I will go as soon as I have had my supper,"
replied Ash; and the party left the house with lighter hearts than they
had entered it, for the terrible fear of prosecution no longer
confronted them.
Captain Gildrock did not say a word in regard to the other culprits in
taking the sloop, and the Burton party wondered if the principal
intended to bring them up before the court. Hop Cabright was sure that
he would not do so, for he would have served them all alike. Syl Peckman
was confident that he did not mean to let them off as he had their
party, for they had been captured on board of the sloop. Ash and Sam had
no opinion, and said it was impossible to say what such a man as Captain
Gildrock would do, for he was different from all the other men in
Genverres.
They went to their suppers; and all the questions asked them by their
parents related to the fire, and the child they had saved. Nothing was
said about the Goldwing, and probably nothing was known about the scrape
from which they had so happily escaped.
They met after supper, and walked over to the house they had saved from
destruction. They found the Widow Sankland there with her two children.
The one who had been burned was on the bed; but she was quite
comfortable, for the doctor had prescribed the continuance of the cold
water, which was renewed every few minutes. The farmer and his wife had
been there, and done what they could to make the house habitable after
the fire and water had done so much mischief.
The widow received the money which Ash presented to her, with many
thanks. She had no money, for she had not received the pay for her day's
work. She said she was very poor indeed, and it was only with the
hardest struggle that she earned enough to feed her children, to say
nothing of clothing them.
Mrs. Sankland explained that her daughter had lighted the lamp to go
down cellar for some milk for the little one. She had dropped it on the
floor, and the fluid had taken fire, from which her dress had caught
when she tried to put it out.
"Have you seen any thing of Pelham to-day?" asked the widow. "He must
have heard of the fire, and he ought to have come home. He could help a
good deal if he only would. He could take care of the children while I
am at work, but he won't even do that."
Sam Spottwood told her that Pell had been captured with the other
Topovers; and Ash added the rest of the story, that they had been in the
scrape.
"Something must be done with him, for I cannot do any thing with him. He
won't mind me any more than if I wasn't his mother," said the widow,
wiping the tears from her thin face.
"He will be at home soon, I should think," added Ash.
"It does not make much difference whether he comes or not: he does me no
good, and I have to feed him. I wish something might be done with him,
for he is a bad boy."
The boys departed much impressed by the confessions of the poor woman;
and they wished they were rich, like Captain Gildrock, that they might
help her. But Ash Burton was willing to go a point beyond wishing that
he was rich, and he decided to apply to some of the wealthy people of
the town for assistance in clothing and food for her. But the boys had
not gone ten rods from the house before they met the carriage of the
rich man of the Beech-Hill estate. Dory and his mother were with the
captain; and, as he stopped his horses in front of the cottage, Dory
took a large basket from the carriage. He carried it into the house, and
then returned to take care of the horses while his uncle and his mother
went in. They never heard of a case of distress within ten miles of
their home without doing all they could to relieve it.
Mr. Sankland had been a laborer who worked on the farms in the vicinity.
He was not a thrifty man, and he drank too much whiskey for his
reliability. He had died less than a year before, leaving nothing at
all; though his wife had saved enough from her own earnings to bury him.
When she could get work, she did tolerably well, especially washing that
she could take home with her. In summer there were people boarding in
the town, and at the farmhouses in the vicinity, who gave her their
work; but in winter it had been almost a starving time with her. In the
spring an agency for a laundry had been established in the place, and
Mrs. Sankland lost most of her customers.
Mrs. Dornwood presented her with the contents of the basket, which
consisted mainly of meats and vegetables brought from the provision
store, and groceries from another establishment. The poor woman was glad
to get these things, and she soon told the history of her miseries. She
repeated what she had said to the young firemen about her son, and it
ended in the captain's asking her if she was willing to put the boy in
his care. She was willing and glad to do so.