SATURDAY AFTERNOON.
The bright summer-time had come again, when the sweet-scented blossoms
beautified the gardens, and the forming fruits gave promise of a rich
golden harvest. The school-bell sent out its merry call to the laughing
children, and scores of them daily went up to the temple of knowledge
for improvement. Saturday afternoon was a season of recreation, when the
pupils, released from school, engaged in various sports, or performed
some light labor for their parents.
On a certain Saturday afternoon, Nat, Charlie, Frank, and one or two
other boys, arranged for a "good time" at the house of one of the
number. They were all there promptly at the appointed time, together
with Frank's little dog Trip--a genuine favorite with all the boys who
had any regard for dog-brightness and amiability.
"Look here, Frank, has Trip forgot how to play hy-spy?" asked Charlie.
"No; he will play it about as well as _you_ can. Let us try it."
"You can't learn him to touch the goal, can you?" inquired another boy.
"No," replied Frank; "but I expect he will before he takes his degree.
He is nothing but a Freshman now."
"Did he ever petition you for shorter lessons?" asked Nat.
Charlie and Frank laughed; for they thought of Sam Drake's petition at
the winter school.
"Never," answered Frank; "but he has asked me for longer ones a great
many times. He never gets enough at any sport. He will play 'hide and
seek' or 'ball' as long as you will want to have him, and then wag his
tail for more."
Trip sat by looking wistfully up into his little master's face as if he
perfectly understood the praise that was lavished upon him, and was
patiently waiting to give an exhibition of his skill in athletic games.
"Let us try his skill," said Charlie. "Come, Frank, give him his post."
"Here, Trip," said Frank, "come here; nice fellow,--does want to play
'hide and seek;' so he shall;" and he patted him on his head, for which
kindness Trip voted him thanks as well as he could.
"Now, boys, we'll all run and hide, and Trip will find us in short
metre."
Off they started, some round the barn and house, and some over the wall,
while Trip stood wagging his tail, in the spot assigned him. At length a
loud shrill "whoop," "whoop," "whoop," one after another, saluted Trip's
ears, and off he ran to find them. Bounding over the wall, he came right
upon Charlie, who laughed heartily at the result, while Trip extended
his researches round the barn, where he discovered Nat under a pile of
boards, and one or two of the other boys. When they all returned to the
goal, Trip perceived that his master was not found, and off he bounded a
second time.
"Sure enough," exclaimed Charlie, "he knows that Frank is not here, and
he has gone to find him. Isn't he a knowing dog?"
"I don't believe he will find him," said Nat, "for he is up on a beam in
the shed."
Nat had scarcely uttered these words, before a shout from Frank and a
bark from Trip announced that the former was discovered.
"There," said Frank, as he came up to the goal with Trip skipping and
jumping at his side, "wasn't that well done? I told you he would find
you, and none of us could do it quicker."
"Let us try it again," said one of the boys, "I guess I'll puzzle him
this time."
Again they all sought hiding-places, while Trip waited at the goal for
the well-known signal--"whoop;" "whoop;" "whoop." None of the boys knew
the meaning of this better than he, although he was only a dog.
Soon the signal was given, and away went Trip in high glee. Over the
wall--around the barn--into the shed--back of the house--behind the
woodpile--under the boards--here and there--he ran until every boy was
found. Again and again the experiment was tried, and Trip won fresh
laurels every time.
"You've torn your pants, Nat," said Frank.
"I know it. I did it getting over the fence. I haven't done such a thing
before, I don't know when."
While exhausting "hy-spy" of its fun, Sylvester Jones came along with a
bit of news.
"Going to court, Nat?" he inquired.
"Going where?" replied Nat, not understanding him.
"_To court_! They have taken up Harry Gould and Tom Ryder, and the court
is coming off at the hall."
"What have they taken Harry and Tom for?" asked Nat, becoming deeply
interested in the event.
"I don't know exactly; but it is something about disturbing the
exhibition."
The facts in the case were these. There was an exhibition in the hall
owned by the manufacturing company, and these two boys climbed up on the
piazza and looked into the window, thereby disturbing the exercises. An
action was brought against them, and they were to be tried before a
justice of the town.
"It is too bad," replied Nat, "to take up such little boys for
_that_--they didn't know any better. What will be done with them, do you
expect?"
"Perhaps they will send them to jail. Father says it is a serious matter
to disturb a meeting of any kind."
"Yes," replied Nat, "it is a mean act in anybody, but I don't believe
that Harry and Tom understood it. It will be too bad to send them to
prison for that. Perhaps they would never do such a thing again."
"Come," added Sylvester, "let us go to the trial and see. They have
begun before this time."
Nat's sympathies were intensely wrought upon by these tidings; for Harry
and Tom were among his school-fellows. The idea of trying such little
boys in a court of justice excited him very much. He forgot all about
the games projected and the rent in his pantaloons, and seizing his cap,
he said to Frank,
"Will _you_ go?"
"Yes, I've played about enough," answered Frank. "I would like to go to
a court."
The boys hurried away to the hall; and they found that the court had
opened, and that the room was well filled with people. Nat edged his way
along through the crowd until he found himself directly in front of the
table where the justice sat. Sure enough, there the two young prisoners
were, Harry and Tom, looking as if they were half frightened out of
their wits. How Nat pitied them! It seemed strange to him that men could
deal thus with boys so small. He listened to the examination, of
witnesses with great emotion, and watched Harry and Tom so closely that
he could read their very thoughts. He knew just how badly they felt, and
that if they could get clear this time, they never would be caught in
such wrong-doing again.
"Were you present at the exhibition?" inquired the justice of one of the
witnesses.
"I was," he answered.
"Did the prisoners disturb the exercise?"
"They did."
"How do you know that Harry and Tom were the boys?"
"Because I went out to send them away, and found them on the piazza."
"Did you speak to them, and call them by name, so that you could not be
mistaken?"
"I did, and they responded to their names."
"Then you can swear that these two boys, the prisoners, disturbed the
meeting?"
"Yes, I am positive of it."
Two or three other witnesses were examined, when the justice said,
"It appears to be a clear case, boys, that you are guilty of the charges
alleged against you. You are very young to begin to disturb the public
peace. Even if it was nothing but thoughtlessness, boys are getting to
be so rude, that it is high time some check was put upon their mischief.
Now, boys, have you any thing to say for yourselves?"
Harry and Tom were more frightened than ever, and Nat could see them
struggle to keep from crying outright.
"Have you any one to speak for you?" asked the justice.
Nat could withstand it no longer, and he stepped forward, with his cap
in his hand, his bright eyes beaming with sympathy for the prisoners,
and said,
"Please, sir, I will speak for them, if you are willing," and without
waiting for the justice to reply, he proceeded:
"Harry and Tom would never do the like again. They knew it was wrong for
them to disturb the exhibition, but they didn't think. They _will_ think
next time. I know they feel sorry now for what they have done, and will
try to be good boys hereafter. Can you not try them, if they will
promise? This is the first time they have done so, and they
will promise, I know they will (turning to the boys), won't you, Tom?"
[Illustration]
The boys both nodded assent, and the justice looked pleased, astonished,
and not a little puzzled. It was really a scene for the artist, Nat
standing before the court with cap in hand, and his pantaloons torn in
the play of the afternoon, his heart so moved with pity for the juvenile
offenders that he almost forgot where he was, making a touching plea for
the boys, as if their destiny depended upon his own exertions. The hall
was so still that the fall of a pin might be heard while Nat was
pleading the case. Everybody was taken by surprise. They could hardly
believe their senses.
"Their brother," answered one man, in reply to the inquiry, "Who is that
lad?" He did not know himself, but he thought that possibly a brother
might plead thus for them.
The justice was not long in deciding the case, after such a plea. He
simply reprimanded the two boys, gave them some wholesome counsel, and
discharged them, much to the gratification of Nat, and many others.
"That was the youngest lawyer I ever heard plead a case," said Mr.
Payson, after the court adjourned.
"The most impudent one, _I_ think," replied Mr. Sayles, to whom the
remark was addressed. "If I had been in the place of the justice, I
would have kicked him out of the hall. Little upstart! to come in there,
and presume to speak in behalf of two reckless boys!"
"You misjudge the boy entirely, Mr. Sayles. There is nothing of the
'upstart' about Nat. He is a good boy, a good scholar, and very amiable
indeed. The neighbors will all tell you so. It was his sincere pity for
the boys that led him to plead for them. He did not mean to conceal
their guilt, but he thought, as _I_ do, that such small boys better be
reproved and tried again, before they suffer the penalty of the law."
"I hope it is so," replied Mr. S.
"I _know_ it is so," continued Mr. P. "Nat is very kind and
sympathizing, and he cannot endure to see a dog abused. It might seem
bold and unmannerly for him to address the court as he did, but Nat is
not such a boy. He is very mannerly for one of his age, and nothing but
his deep pity for Harry and Tom induced him to speak. The act has
elevated him considerably in my estimation, though I thought well of him
before."
Mr. Payson took the right view of the matter. In addition to his
sympathy for his school-fellows, Nat felt that it was hardly right to
take those little boys before a court for the offence charged, since
they were not vagrants, and were not known as bad boys. If Ben and Sam
Drake had been there instead of Harry and Tom, he would not have
volunteered a plea to save them from the clutches of the law. But he
felt that it was dealing too severely with them, and this emboldened
him, so that when he witnessed the distress of the boys, and saw them
try to conceal their emotions, his heart overflowed with pity for them,
and forced him to speak.
If we knew nothing more of Nat, this single act would lead us to
anticipate that, in later life, he would espouse the cause of the
oppressed in every land, and lift his voice and use his pen in defence
of human rights. At the age of ten or twelve years, John Howard, the
philanthropist, was not distinguished above the mass of boys around him,
except for the kindness of his heart, and boyish deeds of benevolence.
It was so with Wilberforce, whose efforts in the cause of British
emancipation gave him a world-wide fame. Every form of suffering,
misfortune, or injustice, touched his young heart, and called forth some
expression of tender interest. Carefully he would lay off his shoes at
the door of a sick chamber, and often divide a small coin, received as a
present, between his own wants and some poor child or man he chanced to
meet. And Buxton, whose self-sacrificing spirit in behalf of suffering
humanity is everywhere known, was early observed by his mother to
sympathize with the down-trodden and unfortunate, and she sought to
nurture and develop this feeling as a hopeful element of character.
When his fame was at its zenith, he wrote to his mother, "I constantly
feel, especially in action and exertion for others, the effects of
principles early implanted by you in my mind."