THE REFEREE CASE.
“I wonder where Henry is; I haven’t seen him for three or four days,”
said Jessie one morning, as Ronald was mending one of the straps of his
skates, preparatory to an excursion to the pond with several boys who
were waiting outside.
No reply was made, and after a moment’s pause, she added,
“I am afraid he is sick. Have you seen him, lately, Ronald?”
“No, I haven’t seen him since that day we went over to Round Hill Pond,
to see the ice-boat,” replied Ronald.
“You haven’t heard of the falling out of Ronald and Henry, have you?”
inquired Oscar of Jessie, as soon as Ronald left the room.
“A falling out? No, I have heard nothing about that. What is the trouble
between them?” inquired Jessie.
“I didn’t know anything about it until yesterday,” replied Oscar,
“although I suspected something was wrong. It seems, according to
Ronald’s story, that he and Henry undertook to build a snow-house, and
had got it nearly done, when Henry got mad about something or other, and
knocked it all to pieces, while Ronald was away.”
“But I can hardly believe that,” said Jessie. “It doesn’t seem at all
like Henry, to do such a thing as that—and such good friends as he and
Ronald have always been, too. Did anybody see Henry tear the house down,
or is it all mere suspicion?”
“It’s nothing but suspicion, I believe,” replied Oscar; “but Ronald says
he’s certain Henry did it, and he declares he will never have anything
more to say to him. It’s a little suspicious that Henry hasn’t been over
here, since that day, isn’t it?”
“Well, I shall not believe Henry did it, unless he acknowledges it, or
some witness testifies that he saw him do it,” added Jessie. “I will go
over and see Henry, to-day, and find out the truth about the matter.”
In the afternoon, when her work was finished up, Jessie went over to Mr.
Allen’s, where Henry lived, and made inquiries about the report she had
heard in the morning. Her brother readily admitted that he had destroyed
the snow-house; but he justified himself on the ground, first, that
Ronald did not treat him well, but provoked him to do it; and secondly,
that he had a right to destroy it, as the snow-house was just as much
his as it was Ronald’s. Jessie listened patiently to all he had to say
in his defence, and then simply inquired:—
“Why haven’t you been over to see us, since that day?—you used to come
almost every day.”
Henry bit his thumb nail nervously, and gazed intently at the corner of
the carriage-shed, but made no reply.
“Come, Henry, I want an answer to that question,” added Jessie. “You
know that you and I have no better friend, next to our mother, than Mrs.
Page. Then all the rest of the family have always been very kind to us.
Now I want to know why you should shun them all, and your own sister,
too, if you only did what your conscience approved, the last time you
were over there. Will you answer me that?”
After a long pause, finding that Jessie was still patiently waiting for
a reply, he stammered:—
“I don’t know—I suppose I didn’t do exactly right—but Ronald’s more to
blame than I am—he began to pick upon me, first.”
“Well,” added Jessie, “I want this quarrel settled right up, before it
grows any worse. You acknowledge that you did wrong; now are you willing
to confess this to the one you wronged, and to ask his pardon?”
“If he’d apologize to me first, perhaps I would,” replied Henry, after a
little hesitation.
“How much nobler it would be for you to go to him, first,” replied
Jessie. “According to your own showing, you are the one most to blame,
even if Ronald did provoke you a little. Now I will engage, that if you
go and acknowledge to him that you have done wrong, he will make ample
apology to you for whatever provocation he may have given. Will you do
it?”
“But I only did what I had a right to do—the snow-house was mine as much
as it was his,” said Henry, evading the question.
“I have some doubts about that,” replied Jessie. “The snow-house was in
Ronald’s yard, and you were his guest. I think he had the best right to
it. But even if you were equal partners in the matter, you had no right
to destroy it without his consent. He has rights, as well as you. Two
men sometimes build a house together; but if they should get into a
dispute, when it was finished, and one of them should go and set the
building afire, or pull it all to pieces, I think he would have to go to
the State prison, even if he did own half the property. It would be a
crime. And it is just the same in your case. At most you only owned half
the snow-house, and you had no right to destroy even your own half,
because it would interfere with Ronald’s rights to do so.”
Henry attempted no reply to this reasoning, but still manifested an
unwillingness to make any advances towards a reconciliation. Jessie then
tried to persuade him to go home with her, and have an interview with
Ronald, she promising to do her best to arrange matters to the
satisfaction of both; but Henry resolutely refused to do this.
“I have thought of one other way to settle this quarrel,” added Jessie,
after a little pause; “and that is, to refer it to two or three
referees, and let them decide who is most to blame, and who shall make a
first confession. Will you agree to that?”
“I don’t see any need of going to all that fuss about it—Ronald began
the quarrel, and if he wants to make up, let him say so,” replied Henry.
“It is not considered a very good sign,” resumed Jessie, “when a man
refuses to submit his dispute with a neighbor to two or three
disinterested persons. People say he does not act in good faith. It
looks as though he were neither innocent nor honest. Must I go home and
tell the folks that you have done this?”
“No, I didn’t refuse, but I don’t see any use in doing it, though,”
answered Henry.
“Suppose Ronald insists that you are more to blame than he, and refuses
to acknowledge his error until you have confessed yours; how can you
ever come to terms, unless by some such means as I have proposed? It is
a very simple thing, and if you are both acting in good faith, I don’t
see how you can object to it. Will you agree to it, if Ronald will?”
“Y-e-s,” replied Henry, with evident reluctance.
“Well, you had better choose your referee now—that will save the
necessity of seeing you again about it,” added Jessie.
“I’ll choose you,” said Henry.
“Very well, I’ll accept,” replied Jessie. “Ronald shall choose another,
and we two shall elect a third; then both parties shall have a hearing,
and you agree to abide by the decision we make, without any question or
grumbling, do you?”
“Why—but—”
“No whys or buts now, bub,” interrupted Jessie, “the award of the
referees is final—there’s no appeal from it.”
“Well, but suppose you referees should decide that Ronald should give me
a thrashing; do you suppose I’d stand still and take it?” inquired
Henry.
“That is not a supposable case,” replied Jessie. “All I can say to it,
is, that if the referees think the breach cannot be healed, and justice
done to all, without some kind of reparation, or punishment, we shall
expect the guilty one to submit to it, whatever it is. But I must be
going, now—you will probably hear from us to-morrow.”
Jessie had a private interview with Ronald, on her return home, and
found that he was really much offended with Henry. He gave his version
of the difficulty, dwelling particularly upon Henry’s ungenerous fling
at his parents, and the spite he exhibited in destroying the snow-house.
“But,” Jessie suggested, after patiently hearing his statement, “isn’t
it possible that you were the aggressor, after all? Were you not a
little arbitrary, and self-willed, about that time? And didn’t you
provoke Henry by telling him you could order him out of the yard, if you
chose, and by _daring_ him to touch the snow-house, after you left it?
You know Henry is older than you, and that made it harder to submit to
such treatment. He feels that he did wrong, and I think he is sorry for
it; but he says you began the quarrel, and are more to blame than he is.
If you should go to him, and apologize for what you said, I am confident
he would be melted into penitence in an instant, and make all the
reparation possible for the wrong he has done you.”
Ronald was ready to admit that some of the blame should be placed to his
account, but he did not think he was called upon to take the first step
towards a reconciliation. Jessie then told him of the referee plan, and
he cheerfully assented to it, and chose Marcus as his arbitrator.
It happened that Marcus heard nothing about the quarrel until Jessie
apprised him of the honorable office to which he had been chosen. He
approved of the course Jessie had taken, and accepted the appointment;
and as a third referee was wanted, they selected Oscar for that post.
Shortly after this, Mr. Allen rode by, and Marcus, hailing him, asked
permission for Henry to come over for a little while in the evening,
which he readily granted. So it was decided that the matter should be
settled up at once.
Henry arrived early in the evening, before the referees had commenced
their business, Jessie being engaged with her duties in the kitchen. He
was ushered into the sitting-room, where several of the family were
seated, including Ronald.
“Mr. Allen said you wanted me to come over here, this evening,” he said
to Marcus, with some embarrassment of manner, as he entered the room.
“Yes, walk in and take a seat—I’m glad to see you once more,” replied
Marcus.
“Good evening, Henry,” said Ronald, very composedly, after the others
had all saluted the newcomer.
“Good evening,” Henry feebly responded, blushing a deeper red than
before.
“Been skating, to-day?” inquired Ronald.
“No,” replied Henry, in an almost inaudible tone, hitching uneasily in
his seat.
“I have,” continued Ronald, warming up. “Oh, you ought to have been
there, and seen Gil Bryant skate. Did you ever see him?”
“No, I believe not,” replied Henry, who was winking intently at the
fire.
“Well, if he isn’t a splendid skater, then I never saw one,” continued
Ronald. “Why, they say he has skated a mile in three minutes and a half;
shouldn’t you call that pretty quick travelling?”
Henry silently nodded assent—to the fire, and looked more “worked up”
than ever.
“What, don’t you believe it, Marcus?” inquired Ronald, in a tone of
surprise, as he noticed a broad smile illuminating Marcus’s face.
“Believe it?” responded Marcus; “of course I do. I’ve skated about as
fast as that myself, before now.”
The fact was, Marcus was smiling at the thoughtless, good-natured
talkativeness of Ronald, as contrasted with the timid and nervous
reserve of Henry, and was balancing in his mind the question whether,
after all, the services of the board of arbitrators would be necessary
to bring the opposing parties to a reconciliation. That smile, however,
seemed to have broken the spell that was upon Ronald. He dropped the
thread of conversation, and was soon lost in his book, while Henry
continued to sit winking at the glowing, coal-enveloped back-log. Aunt
Fanny, who sat at the table sewing, now endeavored to draw him into
conversation by inquiries after Mr. Allen’s family, but did not meet
with much better success than Ronald. Pretty soon Mrs. Page and Jessie
came in, and Marcus inquired:
“Can we have the kitchen, now, mother?”
“Yes,” replied Mrs. Page.
“Well, Jessie and Oscar, suppose we withdraw,” continued Marcus.
The three referees retired to the kitchen, and after consulting a few
moments, decided to examine the two parties to the dispute separately.
Henry was then called in, and gave his version of the difficulty, from
its beginning to his destruction of the snow-house. He defended himself,
as well as he could, and promptly and frankly answered all the questions
that were put to him by the referees. He was then requested to withdraw,
and Ronald was called in, and underwent a similar examination. The
latter seemed in quite a merry mood, when he returned to the
sitting-room.
“Mother,” he said, “you ought to go out there, and see what an august
tribunal we’ve got. They’re all as sober as judges, and Marcus has got a
sheet of paper, and is scribbling away on it as fast as he can. He made
believe that he was writing down all I said, but I guess I can talk
faster than he can write, any day.”
“He was only noting down the leading points of your testimony, I
suppose,” remarked Mrs. Page.
“Leading points?” continued Ronald; “he must have found them pretty
thick, then, for he kept scribbling the whole time I was in the room.
Did he when you was in there, Henry?”
“Yes,” replied Henry, “he filled a whole page, and began another.”
“Well,” added Ronald, with an air of mock gravity, “I suppose the
momentous question is almost decided. I tremble for my fate—don’t you,
Henry?”
“Not much,” replied Henry, with a smile.
“After all, I suppose we might as well be resigned,” continued Ronald;
“I’m not going to worry about it, any way.”
“I don’t think it will be a very great hardship to either of you, to
shake hands and become friends again, if that is all the referees ask,”
remarked Mrs. Page.
“Nor I, neither. Come, Henry, let’s do it now, and get the start of
them,” cried Ronald; and grasping each other’s hands, the two estranged
playmates indulged in a long and hearty shake, and felt that their
quarrel was at once healed.
“Well done, boys!” exclaimed Mrs. Page. “Now how much better that is,
than to let such a trifling thing make enemies of you. I shouldn’t
wonder if you both remembered this act as long as you live; and you’ll
always remember it with pleasure, too.”
“Do you suppose that’s all they’ll tell us to do—to shake hands and make
up?” inquired Ronald.
“I haven’t any idea what kind of a decision they will make, as I know
but little about the facts in the case,” replied Mrs. Page.
“It seems to me they are a good while making their decision,” said
Henry; “I should think it was about time to hear from them.”
Oscar appeared at the door, a few minutes afterward, and summoned Ronald
and Henry before the referees. Marcus requested them to stand, while he
read the decision.
“Mayn’t I say something, first?” inquired Ronald.
“Yes,” replied Marcus.
“Well, Henry and I have made up,” added Ronald.
“Ah, I’m glad to hear that,” said Marcus. “If you had done this a little
sooner, you might have saved yourselves and us some trouble; but as we
have finished up the business you employed us to do, we shall expect you
to abide by our decision, and to pay us our fees.”
“Fees? Have we got to pay you fees?” inquired Ronald, with a laugh.
“To be sure you have,” replied Marcus, with the utmost gravity. “It is
customary to pay the referees, in such cases.”
“Well, I don’t believe you’ll make much out of me—I can’t raise more
than one cent apiece for you, any way,” said Ronald, feeling in his
pocket.
“We wont discuss that point now, but I will read the decision,” observed
Marcus; “and he proceeded to read the following paper:
“AWARD OF REFEREES.
“The Board of Referees in the case of Hapley vs. Page, have carefully
considered the matter committed to their judgment, and have come to
the following decision. They find that Page originated the trouble, by
manifesting an overbearing and unaccommodating spirit towards Hapley;
by claiming exclusive ownership of the snow-house erected by their
joint labors; and by using taunting language. They also find that
Hapley was to blame, for using unkind language towards Page, and
especially for destroying the snow-house, in a spirit of retaliation.
Supposing the structure in dispute to have been the joint property of
Page and Hapley, the Referees are clearly of opinion that neither
party had a right to pull down the whole of it, or even one-half,
without the consent of the other. Buildings, ships, etc., are often
owned by several persons, jointly; but one party may not do any thing
to the common property that would injure the other owners. The
Referees, therefore, decide that Hapley, being the elder, ought to
express to Page his regret for what has occurred in connection with
this affair, and to ask his forgiveness; and that Page, in return,
ought to make a similar acknowledgment to Hapley, asking his pardon
for commencing the quarrel. The Referees also recommend both parties
cordially to forgive each other, and to manifest their determination
to do so by shaking hands.
“The Referees further order, that at the earliest practicable day, the
said Hapley and Page shall erect a new snow edifice, on the site of
the one destroyed, to be called the _Temple of Peace_. Said structure
shall be of such size and proportions as the said Hapley and Page may
agree upon, and when completed, it shall belong to the Referees, who
shall accept the same as full payment for their services in this case.
“MARCUS PAGE, }
“JESSIE HAPLEY, } _Referees_.
“OSCAR PRESTON, }
“_Highburg, March 4._”
As soon as Marcus concluded the reading of this paper, Henry stepped up
to Ronald, and taking his hand, told him he was sorry for what he had
done, and asked his forgiveness. Ronald responded in a similar spirit,
and a cordial shaking of hands concluded the ceremonies. Marcus then
thanked them for submitting so promptly and good-naturedly to the
decision of the Referees, after which they all withdrew to the
sitting-room.
“Jessie, have you finished your gallery of literary portraits?” inquired
Marcus, as he drew his chair to its accustomed place at the table.
“Yes, I have done about all I shall do to it—I am getting a little sick
of it,” replied Jessie.
“Suppose you pass it around, then, for the entertainment of the
company,” said Marcus.
“I’m almost ashamed to show it,” continued Jessie, going to a drawer in
the secretary. “There are so many figures that I did not have time to
take much pains with them. I think you’ll be puzzled to tell what some
of them represent.”
“So much the better for that,” replied Marcus.
Jessie had a taste for drawing, and had taken a few lessons in this art.
Her interest in it had been rekindled, since removing to her new home,
by the offer of Miss Lee to give her further instruction in the use of
the pencil. Miss Lee was an accomplished sketcher and painter, and had
formerly taught these branches in the academy, for several terms. The
“gallery of literary portraits,” alluded to by Marcus, was undertaken by
Jessie to furnish amusement to the younger members of the family, rather
than as an exercise in drawing. It consisted of a series of names of
literary characters, enigmatically expressed. She handed the sheets to
Marcus, who passed them round the circle. Some of the portraits were
recognized by all at first sight; but others proved quite puzzling to
the younger folks, and there were several which no one could solve,
until Jessie gave a clue to them. On the next two pages we give a
transcript of this GALLERY OF LITERARY PORTRAITS.
[Illustration:
1. An Irish Poet.
2. A Philosopher.
3. A Religious Poet.
4. A Statesman.
5. An Essayist.
6. A Scottish Poet.
7. An English Poet.
8. An American Traveller.
9. Another Poet.
10. A Popular Poet.
11. An Eminent Divine.
12. A Celebrated Novelist.
]
[Illustration:
13. A Philosopher.
14. A Popular Poet.
15. A Celebrated Orator.
16. A Great Poet.
17. A Novelist.
18. Another Poet.
19. An American Writer.
20. An English Poet.
21. An Astronomer.
22. A Celebrated Divine.
23. An American Poet.
24. An English Poet.
]
=Key to the Gallery of Literary Portraits.=
1. SWIFT.
2. LOCKE.
3. YOUNG.
4. FOX.
5. LAMB.
6. HOGG.
7. AKENSIDE.
8. KANE.
9. GAY.
10. COWPER.
11. PALEY.
12. COOPER.
13. BACON.
14. LONGFELLOW.
15. PITT.
16. SHAKSPEARE.
17. OPIE.
18. POPE.
19. SPARKS.
20. HOOD.
21. HERSCHEL.
22. HOOKER.
23. DRAKE.
24. CRABBE.