THE RECALL.
Oscar was bent upon going a-gunning. He had allowed his mind to dwell
upon the idea, until it seemed to him as though he could no longer
resist the impulse to play the sportsman, without a sacrifice of his
happiness. His uncle, it is true, had tried to dissuade him from it,
and had positively refused to lend him his gun. But there were other
guns in Brookdale, and everybody was not so particular as Mr. Preston
about trusting boys with fire-arms. Why could n't he borrow a gun of
somebody else? So he asked himself; and by-and-bye he put the same
question to Jerry. Jerry heartily entered into the proposal. He
thought Jim Oakley would lend him a gun. At any rate, he was not
afraid to ask him. Jim was a famous gunner, in that region. He had
several fowling-pieces; and if he would not lend them his best rifle,
it was not likely that he would refuse them one of his old guns. So
Jerry reasoned, and Oscar fully agreed with him. They went to see Jim,
that very afternoon, and by dint of teasing, they got the gun, together
with a small quantity of powder and shot. Thus armed, they set out for
the woods, in quest of game.
They had been in the woods but a short time, and had not yet shot
anything, though they had fired several charges, when a dispute arose
between them about the gun. Jerry claimed a right to it half the time,
on the ground that he had borrowed it. Oscar was willing that he
should use the gun occasionally, but he resisted his claim to it half
the time. He contended that the gun was loaned to him, and besides, he
had agreed to pay the owner for all the ammunition they used. The
dispute waxed warmer and warmer. Oscar was obstinate, and Jerry grew
sulky. It was the first serious difficulty that had arisen between
them. Neither of them, as yet, knew the other's temper, but now they
were in a fair way of finding each other out. It was the clashing of
two strong wills. Oscar soon saw that their sport was at an end for
that day, and throwing down the gun and powder flask upon the grass, he
said, in an angry tone:
"There, take the old thing, and do what you please with it; and when
you carry it back, see that you pay for the powder, for I won't."
So saying, he turned upon his heel and walked off. He had not gone far
when Jerry, who had picked up the gun, called out:
"Here! you 've broken the trigger, throwing it down so. You may carry
it back yourself now, I won't."
"I shan't carry it back," replied Oscar; "you say he lent it to you,
and you may take care of it now."
Oscar went back to his uncle's, leaving Jerry and the gun to keep each
other company. Not feeling in a very pleasant mood, Oscar did not go
into the house, but loitered around the barn, avoiding the family as
much as he could. Pretty soon he saw Clinton driving up, and he
stepped inside of the barn, as he did not care about speaking with him.
Clinton stopped however, when opposite to the barn, and called to him.
"What would you give for a letter from home?" said Clinton, when Oscar
made his appearance.
"I don't know--why, have you got one for me?" inquired Oscar, with
remarkable coolness.
"That's for you, I guess," said Clinton, handing him a letter. "I 've
been over to the post-office, and as I happened to see a letter
directed to you, I thought I would take it along with me."
"That's right, I'm glad you did," said Oscar, taking the letter. "Much
obliged to you for your trouble," he added, as Clinton drove off.
Oscar now went into the barn, and, seating himself upon a stool, opened
and read his letter. It was from his mother. She acknowledged the
receipt of his letter, and expressed much gratification at hearing that
he was well and enjoying himself. His father, she wrote, thought he
had better return home, and resume his place at school, from which he
had been absent nearly three months. The term would close in about a
month, and he wanted Oscar to be prepared to enter the High School at
that time. Then followed various little messages from the children,
directions about his journey home, &c. In closing, she requested him
to return that week, that he might be ready to go to school the
following Monday.
Oscar was not very much pleased with the contents of the letter. He
did not expect to be recalled so suddenly. He had hoped that, at any
rate, he should not be sent to school again that term. But, his plans
and hopes were all overturned by this letter. He went into the house,
and told the news to his aunt, who expressed regret that he was to
leave so soon.
By-and-bye Jerry came home, but he brought the same scowl upon his face
that Oscar left with him up in the woods. Oscar, too, was as "stuffy"
as ever. No words passed between the two, and each seemed bent upon
giving the other a wide berth. At the supper table, something was said
about Oscar's letter, and his going home; but Jerry was too obstinate
to ask any questions, and so he remained in tormenting uncertainty in
regard to the matter. Oscar, too, had some curiosity about the gun,
but he did not intend to "speak first," if he never spoke again to his
cousin.
During the whole evening, Oscar and Jerry were at the opposite poles of
the little family circle. When Oscar retired for the night, he found
Jerry not only abed, but asleep, or pretending to be. It was a wonder
that both did not tumble out of bed that night; for each slept upon the
extreme edge of the mattress, as far as possible from the other.
When Oscar awoke in the morning, he found himself alone, Jerry having
quietly arisen and slipped out of the room, without disturbing him.
They did not see each other until they met at the breakfast table.
Here, their sober and quiet demeanor, so unusual with them, soon
attracted notice.
"See how down in the mouth Jerry is!" said Emily. "He looks as though
he had lost all his friends. And Oscar does n't look much better
either, poor fellow!"
Both boys changed color, and looked queerly, but they said nothing.
"Never mind, boys," said Mrs. Preston, "you 've got one day more to
enjoy yourselves together. You 'd better make the most of that, while
it lasts, and not worry about the separation till the time comes."
"That's good doctrine," said Mr. Preston; "never borrow trouble, for it
comes fast enough any way. Come, cheer up, Oscar, you have n't gone
yet."
"It's too bad to make me go home so soon--I thought I was going to stay
here a month or two," said Oscar, who was very willing that his unusual
demeanor should be attributed entirely to his summons home.
"You must ask your father to let you come down and spend your
vacation," said Mr. Preston. "I expect to go up to Boston about that
time, and I guess he will let me bring you home with me."
"I should like to come," said Oscar, "but I don't believe father will
let me, it's so far."
"O yes, he will, when he knows what good friends you and Jerry are,"
replied Mr. Preston.
"Jerry 's crying, as true as I 'm alive!" exclaimed Emily, who had been
watching the workings of her brother's face for several moments, and
thought she saw moisture gathering in his eye.
"No I aint, either!" replied Jerry, in such a prompt and spiteful tone,
and with such a scowl upon his face, that all the others, including
even Oscar, joined in a hearty laugh.
"I hope you feel good-natured," said his mother; "Oscar's going off
seems to have had a queer effect upon you."
"I don't care, you 're all picking upon me--it's enough to make anybody
cross," said Jerry, in a surly tone.
"You're mistaken--nobody has picked upon you," replied his mother.
"Yes, you have, too," responded Jerry.
"Jerry! don't let me hear any more of that--not another word," said Mr.
Preston, sternly.
"Then you 'd better make Emily hold her tongue," said Jerry.
"Hush! do you hear me?" said Mr. Preston, with considerable excitement.
Jerry undertook to mutter something more, when his father jumped up,
and, taking him by the collar, led him to the cellar-door, and told him
to go down and stay until he was sent for. Then, shutting the door,
and turning the button, he resumed his seat at the table, and the
family finished their meal in silence.
Jerry was released from his confinement soon after breakfast; but the
unfortunate affair at the table continued to weigh heavily upon his
mind. Throughout the rest of the day, he kept out of everybody's way,
and said nothing, but looked sour, cross, and wretched. Oscar, too,
felt very unpleasantly. He found it hard work to amuse himself alone.
He was a boy of strong social feelings, and abhorred solitary rambles
and sports. It was a long and dull day, and when he retired to bed at
night, he almost felt glad that it was his last day in Brookdale.
Soon after he had got into bed, Jerry, who had retired before him,
called out:
"Oscar!"
"What?" inquired the other.
There was a long pause, during which Jerry hitched and twisted about,
as if hesitating how to proceed. He at length inquired:
"Are you mad with me?"
"No," replied Oscar, somewhat reluctantly, and in a tone that was
almost equivalent to "yes."
"I don't want you to go off without making up with me," added Jerry;
and as he spoke, his voice trembled, and had it been light enough,
Oscar might have detected something like moisture in those very eyes
that had flashed in anger at Emily in the morning, for reporting the
same thing of them.
"I 'm ready to make up with you," replied Oscar, turning over toward
Jerry.
Having thus broken the ice, the constraint and reserve that had existed
between them since the previous day, gradually melted away, and they
were once more on sociable terms, although their intercourse was not
quite so free and unembarrassed as it was before their quarrel. In
fact, they did not properly heal up the difficulty between them,
inasmuch as neither made any confession or apology--a duty that both
should have performed, as they were about equally guilty. Oscar's
first inquiries were concerning the gun. Jerry told him that he
carried it home, and that the owner was quite angry, when he saw the
damage it had sustained, but said nothing about making the boys pay for
it.
The next morning the family arose at an earlier hour than usual, as
Oscar had got to be on his way soon after sunrise. It was decided that
Jerry should drive him over to the Cross-Roads. Accordingly, after a
hasty breakfast, he bade them all good-bye, one by one, and taking a
seat in the wagon with Jerry, started for home. It was delightful,
riding while the birds were yet singing their morning songs, and the
grass was spangled with dew, and the cool air had not felt the hot
breath of the sun; but the separation that was about to take place, and
the unpleasant recollection of their recent quarrel, lessened their
enjoyment of the ride very much. They reached the Cross-Roads nearly
half an hour before the stage-coach came along. At length it drove up
to the post-office, and Oscar, mounting to the top, took a seat behind
the driver. The mail-bag was handed to the driver, and the coach
started again on its way, Oscar bowing his farewell to Jerry, as they
drove off.
[Illustration: The Stage Coach.]
Nothing of special interest occurred the forenoon's ride. The coach
reached its destination about eleven o'clock and Oscar had barely time
enough to brush the dust from his clothing, and to obtain a drink of
cold water, when the signal was given for the cars to start, and he
took his seat in the train. His thoughtful aunt had placed a liberal
supply of eatables in the top of his valise, and to that he now had
recourse, for his long ride had given him a sharp appetite. There were
but few passengers in the train when it started, but at almost every
station it received accessions.
On reaching Portland, Oscar found that he had nearly half an hour to
spare, before taking the Boston train; for it was his intention to "go
through" in one day, which his early start enabled him to do. After
treating himself to a few cakes, which he purchased at a refreshment
stand in the depôt, he walked about until it was time to take his seat
in the cars.
The clock struck three, and the train started. One hundred and eleven
miles seemed to Oscar a long distance to travel, at one stretch,
especially after riding all the forenoon; and, indeed, he did begin to
feel quite tired, long before he reached the end of the journey. To
add to his uneasiness, a particle of cinder from the locomotive flew
into his eye, and lodged there so firmly that all his efforts to remove
it were in vain. In a little while, the eye became quite painful, and
he was obliged to keep it closed. A kind-looking gentleman, who sat
near him, noticed his trouble, and offered to assist him in removing
the mote; but it was so small that he could not find it. He advised
Oscar not to rub the inflamed organ, and told him he thought the
moisture of the eye would soon wash out the intruder, if left to
itself. Oscar tried to follow this advice, but the pain and irritation
did not subside, and he closed his eyes, and resigned himself to
darkness.
The nine o'clock bells of Boston were ringing, as Oscar left the depôt
and turned his steps homeward. He hurried along through the familiar
streets, and had just turned the corner from which his home was in
sight, when somebody jumped suddenly from a dark passage-way, and
seized him by the hand. It was Ralph, who had been on the watch for
his brother half an hour, and, concealed himself just as he saw him
approaching. Each gave the other a cordial greeting, and then they
hastened into the house, where Oscar found the rest of the family
waiting to receive him. The general commotion that followed his
arrival, aroused Tiger from the comfortable nap he was taking on a mat,
and on hearing the well-remembered tones of his master's voice, he
sprang toward Oscar, and nearly knocked him over with his
demonstrations of welcome.
So Oscar was at home again; and from the welcome he received, he
learned that there is pleasure in getting back from a journey as well
as in setting out upon one. His inflamed eye soon attracted the notice
of his mother, and she examined it to see if she could detect the cause
of the irritation; but the troublesome atom was invisible. She then
said she would try the eye-stone, and, going to the drawer, she got a
small, smooth, and flat stone, and told Ella to go down into the
kitchen and bring up a little vinegar in a saucer. On putting the
stone into the vinegar, it soon began to move about, as though it were
possessed of life. When it had become sufficiently lively, Mrs.
Preston wiped it dry, and put it between the lid and ball of Oscar's
inflamed eye. After it had remained there a few minutes, he allowed it
to drop into his hand, and on a close-examination, he found that it had
brought with it the offending substance that had caused him so much
pain. It was a little black speck, so small that it was barely
perceptible to the unaided eye. It now being quite late, Mrs. Preston
thought that further inquiries and answers concerning Oscar's visit had
better be deferred till morning, and the family soon retired to their
beds.