A QUESTION OF INFLUENCE.
When Mr. Lloyd heard the story of Bert's "meeching," it was evident that
it hurt him sorely. He was quite prepared for a reasonable amount of
waywardness in his boy, but this seriously exceeded his expectations. He
could not, of course, put himself exactly in Bert's place, and he was
inclined to think him guilty of far more deliberate wrong than poor Bert
had for a moment contemplated.
Then, again, he was much puzzled as to what should be done with
reference to Frank Bowser. He had evidently been Bert's tempter, and
Bert ought, perhaps, to be forbidden to have any more to do with him
than he could possibly help. On the other hand, if Bert were to be
interdicted from the companionship of his schoolmates, how would he ever
learn to take care of himself among other dangerous associations? This
was a lesson he must learn some day. Should he not begin now?
So Mr. Lloyd was not a little bewildered, and his talk with Bert did
not give him much light; for while Bert, of course, was thoroughly
penitent and ready to promise anything, what he had to tell about Frank
was simply how good-natured and generous and plucky he was, and so
forth.
The three of them, father, mother, and sister, held a consultation over
the matter that night after Bert had gone to bed.
"I wish I felt more sure as to what is the wisest thing to do," said Mr.
Lloyd. "We can't keep Bert in a glass case, and yet it seems as if we
should do our best to protect him from every evil influence. I would
like to know more about that Bowser boy."
"Bert tells me he has no mother," said Mrs. Lloyd, in sympathetic tones,
"and from what he says himself, his father does not seem to take much
interest in him. Poor boy! he cannot have much to help him at that
rate."
"He's a good, sturdy little chap," put in Mary. "He came down from
school with Bert one day. He seems very fond of him."
"Well, what had we better do?" asked Mr. Lloyd. "Forbid Bert to make a
companion of him, or say nothing about it, and trust Bert to come out
all right?"
"I feel as though we ought to forbid Bert," answered Mrs. Lloyd. "Frank
Bowser's influence cannot help him much, and it may harm him a good
deal."
"Suppose you put that the other way, mother," spoke up Mary, her face
flushing under the inspiration of the thought that had just occurred to
her. "Frank Bowser has no help at home, and Bert has. Why, then, not say
that Bert's influence cannot harm Frank, and it may help him a good
deal?"
"Mary, my dear," exclaimed Mr. Lloyd, bending over to pat her
affectionately on the shoulder, "that's a brilliant idea of yours.
You're right. Bert should help Frank, and not let Frank harm him. We
must make Bert understand that clearly, and then there will be nothing
to fear."
And so the consultation closed, with Mary bearing off the honours of
having made the best suggestion.
It was acted upon without delay. Calling Bert to him next morning while
they were awaiting breakfast, Mr. Lloyd laid the matter before him:
"Bert," said he, kindly, "we were talking about you last night, and
wondering whether we ought to forbid your making a companion of Frank
Bowser. What do you think?"
"Oh, father, don't do that," answered Bert, looking up with a startled
expression. "He's been so good to me. You remember how he served Bob
Brandon for shoving me down in class?"
"Yes, Bert; but I'm afraid he's leading you into mischief, and that is
not the sort of companion I want for you."
Bert dropped his head again. He had no answer ready this time.
"But then there are always two sides to a question, Bert," continued Mr.
Lloyd, while Bert pricked up his ears hopefully. "Why should you not
help Frank to keep out of mischief, instead of his leading you into it?
What do you say to that?"
Bert did not seem quite to understand, so his father went on:
"Don't you see, Bert? You must either help Frank to be better, or he
will cause you to be worse. Now, which is it to be?"
Bert saw it clearly now.
"Why, father," he cried, his face beaming with gladness at this new turn
to the situation, "I'll do my best to be a good boy, and I know Shorty
will, too, for he always likes to do what I do."
"Very well then, Bert," said Mr. Lloyd, "that's a bargain. And now,
suppose you invite Frank, or 'Shorty,' as you call him, to spend next
Saturday afternoon with you, and take tea with us."
"Oh, father, that will be splendid," cried Bert, delightedly. "We can
coast in the fort all the afternoon and have fun in the evening. I'm
sure Shorty will be so glad to come."
The question thus satisfactorily settled, Bert took his breakfast, and
went off to school in high glee and great impatience to see Frank, for
the invitation he bore for him fairly burned in his mouth, so to speak.
As he expected, Frank needed no pressing to accept it. He did not get
many invitations, poor chap! and the prospect of an afternoon at Bert's
home seemed very attractive to him. He did enjoy himself thoroughly,
too, even if he was so shy and awkward that Mrs. Lloyd and Mary were
afraid to say very much to him; he seemed to find it so hard to answer
them.
But Mr. Lloyd got on much better with him. Although his boyhood was a
good way in the past, he kept its memories fresh, and could enter
heartily into the discussion of any of the sports the younger generation
delighted in. He knew all the phrases peculiar to baseball, cricket,
marbles, and so forth, and fairly astonished Frank by his intimate
knowledge of those amusements, so that ere long Frank, without knowing
just how it happened, was chatting away as freely as though he were out
on the Garrison playground instead of being in Mr. Lloyd's parlour.
Having once got him well started, Mr. Lloyd led him on to talk about
himself and his home, and his way of spending his time, and thus learned
a great deal more about him than he had yet known. One fact that he
learned pointed out a way in which Bert's influence could be exerted for
good at once. Frank attended no Sunday school. He went to church
sometimes, but not very often, as his father took little interest in
church-going, but he never went to Sunday school; in fact, he had not
been there for years. Mr. Lloyd said nothing himself on the subject to
Frank. He thought it better to leave it all to Bert.
After Frank had gone, leaving behind him a very good impression upon the
whole, Mr. Lloyd told Bert of the opportunity awaiting him.
"Wouldn't you like to ask Frank to go with you to Sunday school, Bert?"
he inquired.
"Of course, I would, father," replied Bert, promptly; "and I'm sure he'd
go, too, and that Mr. Silver would be very glad to have him in our
class."
When Bert, however, came to talk to Frank about it, he found him not
quite so willing to go as he had been to accept the invitation for
Saturday.
"I'm not anxious to go to Sunday school, Bert," said he. "I shan't know
anybody there but you, and it'll be awfully slow."
"But you'll soon get to know plenty of people," urged Bert; "and Mr.
Silver is so nice."
And so they argued, Frank holding back, partly because his shyness made
him shrink from going into a strange place, and partly because, having
been accustomed to spend his Sunday afternoons pretty much as he
pleased, he did not like the idea of giving up his liberty. But Bert was
too much in earnest to be put off. The suggestion of his father that he
should try to do Frank some good had taken strong hold upon his mind,
and he urged, and pleaded, and argued until, at last, Frank gave way,
and promised to try the Sunday school for a while, at any rate.
Bert reported the decision at home with much pride and satisfaction. He
had no doubt that when once Frank found out what a pleasant place the
Sunday school was, and how kind and nice Mr. Silver--his teacher
there--was, he would want to go every Sunday.
The Sunday school of Calvary Baptist Church certainly had about as
pleasant and cheery quarters as could be desired. For one thing, it was
not held in a damp, dark, unventilated basement as so many Sunday
schools are.
And, oh, what a shame--what an extraordinary perversion of sense this
condemning of the children to the cellars of the churches is! Just as
though anything were good enough for them, when in them lies the hope of
the Church, and every possible means should be employed to twine their
young affections about it! But these words do not apply to the Calvary
Sunday School, for it was not held in a dingy basement, but in a
separate building that united in itself nearly every good quality such
an edifice should possess. It was of ample size, full of light and air,
had free exposure to the sunshine, and was so arranged that every
convenience was offered for the work of the school. Around the central
hall were arranged rooms for the Bible classes, the infant class, and
the library, so planned that by throwing up sliding doors they became
part of the large room. The walls were hung with pictures illustrating
Bible scenes, and with mottoes founded upon Bible texts; and finally,
the benches were of a special make that was particularly comfortable.
All this was quite a revelation to Frank when, after some little
coaxing, Bert brought him to the school. His conception of a Sunday
school was of going down into a gloomy basement, and being lectured
about the Bible by a severe old man with a long grey beard. Instead of
that, he found himself in one of the brightest rooms he had ever seen,
and receiving a cordial welcome from a handsome young gentleman, to whom
Bert had just said:
"This is my friend Frank, Mr. Silver. He's going to come to school with
me after this."
"Very glad indeed to have you, Frank," said Mr. Silver, giving him a
warm grasp of the hand. "Sit right down with Bert, and make yourself at
home."
And Frank sat down, so surprised and pleased with everything as to be
half inclined to wonder if he was not dreaming. Then the fine singing,
as the whole school, led by an organ and choir, burst forth into song,
the bright pleasant remarks of the superintendent, Mr. Hamilton, Bert's
ideal of a "Christian soldier," and the simple earnest prayer
offered,--all impressed Frank deeply.
No less interesting did he find Mr. Silver's teaching of the lesson. Mr.
Silver attached great importance to his work in the Sunday school.
Nothing was permitted to interfere with thorough preparation for it, and
he always met his class brimful of information, illustration, and
application, bearing upon the passage appointed for the day. And not
only so, but by shrewd questioning and personal appeal he sent the
precious words home to his young hearers and fixed them deep in their
memories. He was a rare teacher in many respects, and Bert was very fond
of him. Frank did not fail to be attracted by him. As he and Bert left
the school together, Bert asked:
"Well, Frank, how do you like my Sunday school?"
"First rate," replied Frank, heartily. "Say, but isn't Mr. Silver nice?
Seems as though I'd known him for ever so long instead of just to-day."
"Guess he is nice," said Bert. "He's just the best teacher in the
school. You'll come every Sunday now, won't you, Frank?"
"I think so," answered Frank; "I might just as well be going there as
loafing about on Sunday afternoon doing nothing."
Mr. Lloyd was very much pleased when he heard of Bert's success in
getting Frank to the Sunday school. He recognised in Bert many of those
qualities which make a boy a leader among his companions, and his desire
was that his son's influence should always tell for that which was
manly, pure, and upright. To get him interested in recruiting for the
Sunday school was a very good beginning in church work, and Mr. Lloyd
felt thankful accordingly.
Neither was he alone in feeling pleased and thankful. Mr. John Bowser,
Frank's father, although he showed great indifference to both the
intellectual and moral welfare of his boy, was, nevertheless, not
opposed to others taking an interest in him. He cared too little about
either church or Sunday school to see that Frank was a regular
attendant. But he was very willing that somebody else should take an
interest in the matter. Moreover, he felt not a little complacency over
the fact that his son was chosen as a companion by Lawyer Lloyd's son.
Engrossed as he was in the making of money, a big, burly, gruff,
uncultured contractor, he found time somehow to acquire a great respect
for Mr. Lloyd. He thought him rather too scrupulous and straightforward
a man to be _his_ lawyer, but he admired him greatly, nevertheless; and,
although he said nothing about it, secretly congratulated himself upon
the way things were going. He had little idea that the circle of
influence Bert had unconsciously started would come to include him
before its force would be spent.