BLAIR'S COMPANY.
Blair Robertson had long had a famous military company of his own,
called the Fairport Guard. A guard _against what_ had never been
publicly stated; and as they had no written constitution for their
association, posterity must ever remain in ignorance on this point. Up
and down the streets of Fairport it was their delight to parade on a
Saturday afternoon, to the infinite amusement of the small girls who ate
molasses candy and looked at the imposing array.
The breaking out of the war infused a new military spirit into all the
youngsters on the Atlantic coast, and the Fairport Guard came in for
their share of this growing enthusiasm. Cocks' tail feathers and
broomsticks were suddenly in great requisition for the increasing rank
and file, and the officers bore themselves with added dignity, and gave
out their orders with an earnestness which proved that they appreciated
the work they were imitating.
When it was rumored that Blair Robertson had become a communicant in the
church to which his mother belonged, there was a general groan among his
old followers and adherents. Here was an end, in their minds, to the
Fairport Guard, and every other species of fun in which Blair had been
so long a leader and abettor.
Blair was at first inclined to shrink from his old companions; but as
the right spirit grew and strengthened within him, he mingled among them
more freely, actuated by the desire to win new citizens for the kingdom
of heaven, and to guide his wild associates into such paths as would
make them a blessing to their native land.
Blair's heart had been like rich ground, in which his mother had been
sowing, sowing, sowing good seed, prayerfully waiting until it should
spring up and take root to his own salvation and the glory of God. That
happy time had come. All the words of counsel, all the pure teaching
that had been stored in his mind, seemed now warmed into life, and ever
rising up to prompt him to good and guard him from evil. Happy are the
boys who have such a mother.
A series of rainy Saturdays had postponed the question as to whether the
Fairport Guard should parade as usual under the command of their long
honored captain. A bright sunny holiday came at last, and Blair's
decision on this point must now be declared. Long and prayerfully the
boy had considered the subject, and his conclusion was fixed and
unalterable.
The change in Blair's principles and feelings had not alienated him from
his former companions. Each one of them had now for him a new value.
They were to him wandering children of his heavenly Father, whom he
longed to bring back to that Father's house. The wildest and most erring
among them called forth his most tender interest, as farthest from the
kingdom of heaven and in the most danger of utter destruction.
Blair's love of his country too had been but deepened and increased by
his late realization of the allegiance he himself owed to the King of
kings. His native land was now to him a dear portion of the great
vineyard on which he desired the especial blessing of God. He more
deeply appreciated the fact that every true Christian man is indeed an
element of wholesome life and prosperity to the neighborhood and land in
which he dwells. The boys of the present day were soon to be the men on
whom the state must rely for power and permanency. With a true patriot's
zeal, Blair resolved to do all in his power to bring the boys of
Fairport to be such Christian men as would be a blessing in their day
and generation. These thoughts had gone far to fix his decision with
reference to the Fairport Guard.
It was with a burst of enthusiastic applause that the little company saw
Blair appear upon the public square in his well-known uniform. His
three-cornered hat of black pasteboard was surmounted by a long black
feather, and fastened under his chin by a fine leather strap, the strap
being bordered by a ferocious pair of whiskers, to afford which the
"black sheep" of some neighboring flock had evidently suffered. His
grandfather's coat, which had been worn at Bunker Hill, enveloped his
slender form, and increased the imposing effect of his tall figure upon
the minds of his subordinates.
"Three cheers for Captain Robertson! Three cheers for Blair!" shouted
the boys as their leader approached.
The cheers rung out on the air somewhat feebly, though that was owing to
the weakness of the throats that raised them, rather than to any want of
goodwill, and so Blair understood it.
"Now give us a speech before we fall into rank," called out one of the
company.
"That is just what I mean to do, if you will all listen to me," said the
captain in his most dignified manner.
The stump of a fallen tree served to elevate our speaker on this
occasion, as it has many an older orator in circumstances no more
interesting to his hearers than were the present to the eager group of
listeners.
Blair had another purpose now than to hear himself talk. The short pause
which preceded his opening sentence was not merely for effect. In those
few seconds Blair was asking aid from his heavenly Father so to speak
that he might have power to move his hearers and guide them aright.
"Boys," he began, "boys, I want to be your captain. I don't want to give
up the Fairport Guard. We have had many a good time together, and I love
you all; yes, every one. Our marching and drilling has hitherto been
play, but now we ought to be in earnest. We should prepare to be really
a guard to our native town. At any moment the British may land on our
shores, and threaten the lives of those who are dearest to us. We must
be able to protect our mothers and sisters if the evil day comes. We
must learn the use of firearms. This musket did duty at Bunker Hill.
Every young patriot here must learn to use it well. In due time we must
each have our musket, and make it carry true, if need be, to the heart
of the enemy. But, boys, if we are to be real defenders of our native
land, we must be worthy of such an honor. I am willing, I want to be
your captain; but hear the rules I propose for our company: We are to be
a temperance band; no drop of the cup that intoxicates must pass our
lips. No profane word must sully our tongues. The name of the God of our
fathers must be honored among us. Any member of this company who shall
be found guilty of a lie, a theft, or bullying the weak and
defenceless, shall be cast out by common vote. We will strive to be a
credit to our beloved home--true American citizens, who may dare to ask
God to bless them in all their undertakings and prosper all they do.
Boys, do you agree to these regulations? If so, I shall rejoice to be
your captain. If not, I must sadly bid adieu to the Fairport Guard, and
with this time-honored musket in my hand, stand alone on the threshold
of my home in the hour of danger, trusting in God and in the strength of
this single right-arm."
As Blair concluded, he grounded his musket, and stood silently awaiting
the reply of his companions.
There was a moment of hesitation; then one of the older boys, the
first-lieutenant, stepped forward and silently placed himself at the
side of his young commander. In true martial style the whole company
followed, arraying themselves around their leader.
"We agree! We agree! We agree to every thing!" shouted one and all.
"May God help us to keep to our compact," said Blair. Then, after a
short pause, he added, "Let me propose to you a new member for our
company--my friend Hal Hutchings, who, born on English soil, is yet a
true American at heart. Let all in favor of his admission say Aye."
Hal had been striving to give himself a military air by appearing in his
red flannel shirt and trousers, while Old Jock's red night-cap was
perched above the yellow curls of the boy. As his name was mentioned, he
raised to his shoulder a borrowed crutch which served him for a musket,
as if to signify his readiness for martial duty.
"The English boy! Admit the English boy!" said several voices; but a
hearty "Aye, aye" from two or three prominent members of the company
decided the question in Hal's favor, and he was admitted at once by
general consent.
Forming now in regular ranks, the Fairport Guard went through their
usual drill, and then set off in a creditable march, to let the citizens
have a view of their doughty defenders.
[Illustration]