NEW IDEAS.
"Come," said Pliny Hastings, halting before the hotel, and addressing
his companion, "father said if it snowed hard when school was out to
come in here to dinner."
"Well, go ahead, then," answered his friend, gaily. "Father didn't tell
me so, and I suppose I must go home."
"Oh bother--come on and get some dinner with me; then when the pelting
storm is over we'll go up together."
So the two came into the great dining-room, and Tode came briskly
forward to help them. Tode had been in his new sphere for more than
three weeks, and already began to pride himself on being the briskest
"fellow in the lot."
Pliny Hastings ordered dinner for two with an ease and promptness that
proved him to be quite accustomed to the proceeding; and Tode dodged
hither and thither, and finally hovered near, and looked on with
admiring eyes as the two ate and drank, and talked and laughed. Thus
far in his life Tode had been, without being aware of it, a believer in
"blood descent," distinct spheres in life, and all that sort of
nonsense. He was a boy to be sure, but it had never so much as occurred
to him that he could be even remotely connected with such specimens of
boyhood as were before him now. Not that they were any better than he.
Oh no, Tode never harbored such a thought for a moment; but then they
were different, that he saw, and like many another unthinking mortal, he
never gave a thought to the difference that home, and culture, and
Christianity must necessarily make. But what nonsense am I talking! Tode
didn't know there _were_ any such words, but then there _are_ people who
_do_, and who reason no better than did he.
While he looked and enjoyed, Pliny was seized with a new want, and
leaned back in his chair with the query:
"Where's Tompkins? Oh, Mr. Tompkins, here you are. Can you make Ben and
me something warm and nice this cold day?"
Mr. Tompkins paused in his rush through the room.
"In a very few minutes, Master Hastings, I will be at your service. Let
me see--could you wait five minutes?"
Pliny nodded.
"Very well then. Tode, you may come below in five minutes, and I shall
be ready."
Tode went and came with alacrity, and stood waiting and enjoying while
the two drained their glasses.
There was a little wet sugar left in the bottom of Pliny's glass, and
he, catching a glance from Tode's watchful eye, suddenly held it forth,
and spoke in kindly tone:
"Want that, Todie?"
Tode, a little taken aback, shook his head in silence.
"You don't like leavings, eh? Get enough of the real article, I presume.
How do they make this? I dare say you know, now you are at
headquarters?"
Tode shook his head again.
"Belongs to the trade," he answered, with an air of wisdom.
"Oh it does. Well how much of it do you drink in a day?"
"Not a drop."
"Bah!"
Tode didn't resent this incredulous tone. He was used to being doubted;
moreover he knew better than did any one else that there was no special
reason for trusting him, so now he only laughed.
"Come, tell us, just for curiosity's sake, I'd like to know how much
your queer brain will bear. I won't tell of you."
"You won't believe me," answered Tode coolly, "so what's the use of
telling you."
"I will, too, if you'll tell me just exactly. This time I'll believe
every word."
"Well then, not a drop."
"Why not?" queried Pliny, still incredulous. "Don't you like it?"
"Can't say. Never tasted it."
"Weren't you ever where there was any liquor before?"
"Slightly!" chuckled Tode over the remembrance of his cellar life, and
knowing by a sort of instinct that these two had never been inside of
such a place in their lives.
Pliny continued his examination:
"Don't you like the smell of it?"
"First-rate."
"Then why don't you take it?"
"Ain't a going to."
"But _why_?"
And then for the first time his companion spoke:
"Are you a total abstainer?"
"What's them?"
Both boys stopped to laugh ere they made answer.
"Why people who think it wicked to 'touch, taste or handle,' you know.
Say, Pliny, did you know there's quite an excitement on the subject up
our way? Old Mousey is round trying to get all the folks to promise not
to sell Joe any more brandy."
"Stuff and nonsense!" oracularly pronounced Pliny, quoting the
unanswerable argument of his elders.
"Fact. And folks say Joe has been drunk more times in a week since than
he ever was before."
"Of course, that's the way it always works, trying to _make_ folks do
what they won't do. Joe ought to be hung, though. What does a fellow
want to be a fool for and go and get drunk? But say, Todie, why don't
you drink a drop?"
"I ain't a going to," was Tode's only answer.
The two friends looked at each other curiously.
"You're green," said Pliny, at last.
"Yes," said Tode, promptly, "maybe; so's the moon."
Whereat the two laughed and strolled away.
"Isn't he a queer chap?" they said to each other as they went out into
the snow.
Meantime Tode looked after them for a moment before he began briskly to
gather up the remains of the feast. Tode had some new ideas. He had
formerly lived a stratum below the temperance movement; it had scarce
troubled his father's cellar; so he had to-day discovered that there
were others besides his mother who prayed their sons not to drink a drop
of rum. Also that a young man who went and got drunk was considered a
fool by elegant young men, such as he had just been serving. Also, and
sharpest, these two evidently thought him "green." If they had said a
thief or scamp Tode would have laughed, but "green!" that touched.
"I'll show them a thing or to, maybe," he said, defiantly, as he seized
a pile of plates and vanished.
Now our three babies, nurtured severally in the lace-canopied crib, in
the plump-cushioned rocking-chair, in the reeking cellar corner, had
come together from their several "spheres" and held their first
conversation. Other hungry people came for their dinner and Tode served
them, and was very attentive to their wants and their words. A busy life
the boy led during these days--a brisk, bustling life, which kept him in
a state of perpetual delight. There was something in his nature which
answered to all this rush and systematic confusion of business, and
rejoiced in it. He liked the air of method and system which even the
simplest thing wore; he liked the stated hours for certain duties; the
set programme of employment laid out for each; the set places for every
thing that was to be handled; the very bells, as with their different
tongues they called him hither and thither to different duties, were all
so much music to him. He did not know why he chuckled so much over his
work; why, at the sound of one of his bells, he gave that quick spring
which was so rapidly earning him a reputation for remarkable promptness;
but in truth there was that in the boy which met and responded to all
these things. Every bit of the clock-work machinery filled him with a
kind of glee.
There was another reason why Tode enjoyed his hotel life. He had
discovered himself to be an epicure, and an amazing quantity of the good
things of this life fell to his share--no, hardly that--but disappeared
mysteriously from shelf and jar and box, and only grave,
innocent-looking Tode could have told whither they went. Mince-pies, and
cranberry-pies, and lemon-pies, and the whole long catalogue of pies,
were equal favorites of his, and huge pieces of them had a way of not
being found. Poor Tode, his training-school had been a sad one; the very
first principle of honesty was left out of his street education, and the
only rule he recognized was one which would assist him in not being
discovered. So he eluded sharp eyes and hoodwinked sharp people; he
commended himself for being a cute, and, withal, a lucky fellow. On the
whole, although Tode was certainly clad in decent garments, and slept in
a comfortable bed, and was to all outward appearances earning a
respectable living, I can not say that I think he was really improving.
There were ways and means of leading astray in that hotel, to which even
his street life had not given him access; and if anybody's brain ever
appeared ripe for mischief of any sort, it was certainly Tode Mall's.
Any earthly friend, if he had possessed one, would have watched his
course just now with trembling terror, and made predictions of his
certain downfall. But Tode had no friend in all that great city; not one
who ever gave him a second thought. Christian men came there often, and
were faithfully served by the boy whose soul was very precious in their
Master's eyes, but his servants never thought to speak a word to the
soul for the Master. Why should they?--it was a hotel, and they had come
in to get their dinner; that duty accomplished and they would go forth
to attend the missionary meeting, or the Bible meeting, or the tract
meeting, or some other good meeting; but those and the hotel dinner were
distinct and separate matters, and the little Bibleless heathen, who
served them to oysters and coffee, went on his way, and they went
theirs. But God looked down upon them all. As the days passed, the three
boys, whose lives had been cast in such different molds, met often.
Pliny Hastings liked exceedingly to come to the hotel for his dinner,
and, loitering around wherever best suited his fancy, await his father's
carriage. This was very much pleasanter than the long walk alone; and he
liked to bring Ben Phillips with him--first, because he was in some
respects a generous-hearted boy, and liked to bestow upon Ben the
handsome dinners which he knew how to order; and secondly, because he
was a pompous boy, and liked to show off his grandeur to his simple
friend. Was there another reason never owned even to each other, why
these two boys loved to come to that place rather than to their pleasant
homes? Did it lie in the bottom of those bright glasses filled with
"something nice and warm," which Pliny never forgot to order? Sometimes
little Mrs. Phillips worried, and good-natured Mr. Phillips laughed and
"poohed" at her fancies. Sometimes Mr. Hastings sharply forbade his
son's visits to his favorite hotel, and the next windy day sent him
thither to dine. Sometimes his fond mother thought his face singularly
flushed, and wondered why he suffered so much from headache; but only
Tode who had come up in the atmosphere, and knew all about it, cool,
indifferent Tode, looked with wise eyes upon the two boys, and remarked
philosophically to himself:
"Them two fellows will get drunk some day, fore they know what they're
up to."
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