A MISTAKE.
Stern Winter locked the streams again. A snowy mantle covered the hills
and valleys, and the bleak winds moaned through the naked trees. The
merry sleigh-bells jingled in the streets, and merrier lads and lasses
filled the village school-house. The skating grounds never presented
more attractions to Nat and his circle of schoolmates.
"The ice is smooth as glass," said John. "I never saw better skating in
my life. Will you try it right after school?"
These words were addressed to a group of school-boys at the afternoon
recess, to which all but two responded in the affirmative. It was a
snapping cold day, but youthful skaters mind nothing for that.
"George and I have promised to see the teacher after school about
studying grammar," said Neander, "so that we can't go."
"He wants to form a new class in grammar for beginners, and our parents
have told him that we must study it," said George.
"I will sell you what _I_ know about it cheap, if you will go with us,"
said John, who had studied grammar a short time.
"I don't think he will be troubled to find use for as much as that,"
said Charlie, jocosely.
"You will find it dry as a chip," added John. "It fairly makes me
thirsty to study it."
The bell rung, and the boys hurried to their seats. At the close of the
school, the teacher took occasion to say, "that some scholars were
desirous of beginning the study of grammar. I think there might be quite
a large class formed of those who are old enough to begin. It is a very
important science. It will teach you how to read and write the English
language correctly. You cannot write a good letter even without some
knowledge of this study. Those of you who are eleven or twelve years of
age ought to commence it at once. Now, those of you who would like to
join such a class may stop after the school is dismissed, and we will
make the arrangements."
Three or four only remained--others passed out, Nat and Charlie among
them. They had never studied grammar, and the teacher really expected
they would remain. Their scholarship was so good that he inferred they
would desire to unite with such a class, but he was mistaken.
"Shall you join the grammar class, Nat?" inquired Charlie, on their way
to the pond.
"No; I think that other studies will be of more use to me. Grammar is a
good branch for rich men's sons, who can go to school as long as they
want to; but I am not a rich man's son, and I never expect to do any
thing that will require a knowledge of grammar."
"That is my idea exactly," continued Charlie. "If I knew I should ever
go into a store, or be a town officer, I should want to study it."
"According to the teacher's ideas, you will need it if you are nothing
more than a wood-sawyer's clerk," said John.
"I didn't quite believe all the teacher said about writing letters,"
added Nat. "I have heard father say that grammar was not studied at all
when _he_ went to school, and that it has been introduced into school
quite recently. Now I would like to know if people did not understand
how to write letters in those days. Couldn't Washington and Jefferson,
and other great men, write letters correctly?"
"I never thought of that," said Charlie. "I would ask the teacher, if I
were in your place, to-morrow."
"For one," said John, "I should be willing to run my risk, if I could
get rid of studying it. I can't make much out of it."
"I have no doubt," added Nat, "that it is a good study for those who
will want to use it; but _I_(?) shall never want to use it, and it is
better for me to study something else. Arithmetic is useful to
everybody, if they never buy any thing but meat out of a butcher's
cart."
By this time they had reached the pond, so that the subject of grammar
was dropped, and skating taken up.
"I suppose you will bear off the palm as usual, Nat," said Frank, while
he was putting on his skates.
"I don't know about that," replied Nat; "if a fellow can't skate some on
this glare ice, he better give his skates to somebody who can."
Frank's remark was drawn out by the fact that Nat was already considered
the best skater in the village. He could skate more rapidly, and perform
more feats on his skates than any one else. His ability had been fully
tested again and again; and by this time there seemed to be a sort of
expectation among the boys that he would be "first best" in whatever he
undertook. For this reason they hardly attempted to compete with him,
but yielded the first place to him as a matter of course.
Away went Nat up the pond, and Charlie exclaimed,
"See him go! What a fellow Nat is! any thing he undertakes has to go.
See him skate now on one foot, and now he is skating backwards!"
"And he does it just as easy as a boy knows his father," said John.
For nearly an hour skating was enjoyed, when all concluded that their
suppers would be waiting, and so they separated for home.
On the following day, soon after school began in the morning, the
teacher brought up the subject of a grammar class, evidently
dissatisfied that certain boys did not remain after school, on the
previous afternoon, to join it. He remarked "that there were several
boys in school, who might study grammar as well as not," and he went on
to call the names of some, and turning to Nat and Charlie, who sat
together, he said, "Both of you need to begin this study at once. It
would have been better if you had undertaken it before; but it is not
too late now. You will never regret it hereafter. I want both of you to
join the class," and he uttered the last sentence as if he meant it.
Neither Nat nor Charlie made any reply at the time; but at recess they
went to the teacher and made known their feelings.
"We never expect to do any thing that will require a knowledge of
grammar," said Nat. "It will do well enough for rich men's sons."
"Perhaps both of you will be lawyers, ministers, legislators, or
governors yet," replied the teacher, smiling. "Poorer boys than you have
risen to occupy as important places, and the like may happen again."
"None of the scholars like grammar," said Charlie; "they say it is dry
and uninteresting, and hard to understand."
"If it is so," answered the teacher, "that is no reason why it should
not be studied. We have to do some very unpleasant things in this world.
If you live to become men, you will find that you cannot have every
thing to your taste. You will be obliged to do some things, from the
doing of which you would rather be excused. And as to your not expecting
to occupy stations in future life, where you will find a knowledge of
grammar useful, there is more prospect of it than there was that
Benjamin Franklin would become distinguished. He had not half so good
advantages as you have. His father was poor, and had a large family to
support. He was compelled to take Benjamin out of school, when ten years
old, and set him to making soap, which was not very popular business.
But the boy did as well as he could, and made improvement though
deprived of school advantages. Then he became a printer boy, and used
all his spare moments to read and study, so that he advanced more
rapidly than many of his companions did who continued in school. He
always had to work, and had much more reason than you have, when he was
of your age, to say that he should never occupy a position of influence.
Yet he became, as you know, one of the most learned men of his age, a
philosopher and statesman whose fame will never perish. And it was
somewhat so with Patrick Henry. Though he had better advantages than
Benjamin Franklin, and had a father who was able to assist him, yet no
one thought he would ever become distinguished. It was rather thought by
the people who knew him, that he would never accomplish much. Yet, when
he came to improve the small opportunities he had, after his father had
ceased to aid him, he rapidly advanced to fame. He became the most noted
orator of his day, and a very popular statesman. When he was twelve
years old, he had no idea of occupying such a place in manhood. He would
have laughed at the suggestion. There are many such examples; and they
show us that boys may rise to stations they never expect to hold, so
that your plea for not studying grammar is a poor one. At any rate, both
of you will have occasion to write letters, and perhaps you will be a
town clerk or justice. I shall insist upon your studying grammar."
Nat and Charlie exchanged glances, as the teacher rung the bell for the
boys to come in. They saw that it was no use to hold out against his
wishes, for his last remark had settled the matter. Therefore they
reluctantly yielded to his request.
This was the first instance in which Nat had exhibited any unwillingness
to take up a new study. But he had made up his mind that it would not be
of any use to him, so that he had little heart for the science. He
commenced it, and recited his lessons, though rather mechanically,
without clearly understanding them, at the same time excelling in
arithmetic, declamation, and other exercises that engaged his attention.
As his school days ended a few months after, his knowledge of grammar
was very limited indeed. The sequel will disclose whether he was not
finally convinced that the teacher was right, while he himself was
wrong, and whether the failure to improve even one small opportunity
does not become the occasion of future regret.
"Well, Nat, how do you like grammar?" inquired John, some weeks
afterwards.
"As well as I can," replied Nat.
"So do I, and that isn't saying much. But I thought you was determined
not to study it."
"I thought so too," replied Nat, "and you see what thought did."
"I suppose you concluded that you would want to write letters to your
sweet-heart some time, and it would be a pity not to use the English
language with propriety in such a case."
"I didn't think much about it; but when a boy can't do as he likes,
there is no way left but to do as he must, and that is my case."
"I thought the teacher bore rather hard upon us," said Charlie, who had
been listening to the conversation.
"Perhaps you will thank him for it when you get to be Dr. Franklin,
Jr.," answered Nat, in a jesting manner.
"It can't be denied," interrupted John, "that the teacher is a great
grammarian. Didn't he put Sam into the objective case yesterday, when he
tumbled him head over heels out of his seat? If his action didn't pass
over to an object then, I won't guess again."
"Sam looked as if he was convinced that the teacher was an active verb,"
said Nat. "He found out that he was neither neuter nor passive."
The subject of grammar became a frequent theme of remark during the
remainder of the term among the boys. None of them liked it very well,
so that poor grammar was slandered, and many a joke was cracked over it.
It was during this term that Sam Drake allowed his mischief-making
propensity to exhibit itself in a cruel act, for which he was condemned
by nearly all beholders. The boys were returning from school one night,
when a well-known dog, belonging to a neighbor, came out to salute his
young master, one of the scholars. He was somewhat larger than Trip, and
a playful fellow, ready to frolic with the boys.
"Come here, Spot," said Sam to the dog, "good fellow, can you run after
a stick to-night?" and he patted him upon his head, till the dog (who
was usually shy of Sam) seemed to think that he was a good friend.
"There, go and bring that to me," at the same time throwing a little
stick one or two rods.
Spot obeyed at once, and brought back the stick, apparently conscious of
having performed his duty well.
"What do you suppose he would do if I should tie my dinner pail to his
tail?" inquired Sam.
"You shan't do it," cried two or three boys, none more loudly, however,
than Nat.
"I _shall_ do it, if I am a mind to," replied Sam; and he proceeded to
take a string out of his pocket for this purpose.
"You are too bad to do that," said John, trying to dissuade him from
doing it.
"It seems to me that you all have a heap of pity just now," said Sam.
"I wish _you_ had," responded Nat.
"_You_ would get precious little of it, Mr. Squash-peddler, if I had,"
answered Sam. "The dog is none of your relations, and you needn't
trouble yourself about him."
Ben Drake, ere this, had turned to aid Sam in executing his purpose, and
the pail was actually tied to Spot's tail before this conversation
closed.
"Take off the cover," said Ben, and no quicker said than done; whereupon
Spot ran yelping down the street, the tin pail rattling behind him so
as to frighten him beyond measure. The faster he ran, the more the pail
rattled, and the more terrified the dog was. Men stopped in the street
to see the cruel sport, and express their disapproval.
"It is one of Sam Drake's tricks," said Charlie to an inquiry put by a
gentleman.
Sam and Ben laughed till they could scarcely stand upon their feet to
see the dog run. It was just such sport as they loved.
"Hurrah for Spot!" shouted Sam, swinging his hat. "He'll spill his
dinner if he don't carry the pail more carefully."
"If it was _my_ dog," said Frank, "you would find my father after you."
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," added Nat. "It would not have
been more cruel in you to kill him outright. You are always up to
something of the kind."
Not one of the boys approved of Sam's and Ben's cruelty. All expressed
decided sympathy for Spot, and were glad to see the pail drop from his
tail by the time he had run thirty or forty rods.
"What kind of a noun is Sam?" inquired John, with one of his roguish
glances of the eye.
"A proper noun, of course," replied Charlie.
"Not by any means," said Nat; "it takes a decent fellow to be a _proper_
noun. Sam is an _im_-proper noun. I don't believe he has behaved
_proper_ one whole day in five years."
This remark got a hearty laugh upon Sam, and he felt it. He mumbled over
something, and shook his fist a little, but Nat could hear no part of
his remark but the oath that closed it. Sam was very profane, and his
brother was too. It was not unusual for both of them to utter the most
wicked oaths. They seemed to delight in using the worst words of the
English language.
This barbarous act of Sam was frequently spoken of thereafter, and he
stood lower than ever in the estimation of Nat. The latter possessed
tender feelings towards all sorts of animals, and he was much disposed
to pet them. It might be almost said of him as Parry did of Sir John
Franklin, "he never turned his back upon a danger, yet he was so tender
that he would not brush away a mosquito."
The winter session of the school closed, and vacation brought its work
and pleasures. We should be glad to follow Nat through these few weeks
of vacation, but we must hasten to a scene that was enacted when the
following summer was far spent.