The short wintry days were beginning to lengthen, the sun rose
earlier and staid up longer. Now and then a bluebird was heard
twittering a welcome to the coming spring. As for the robins, they
were as pert and busy as usual. The little streams were beginning to
find their way out of their icy prison slowly and with trembling, as
if they feared old winter might take a step and catch them, and
pinch them all up again.
Frank and Harry were sorry to see their snow man growing smaller and
smaller every day; from being a large, portly gentleman, he was
shrunk into a thin, shabby, ugly-looking fellow. His strong arms
were about falling to the ground; his fat nose had entirely
disappeared, and his mouth had grown so big that you might look down
his great throat, and see the place where one of the boys used to go
in to make his snowship talk. Frank and Harry loved all their winter
amusements, and were loath to give up skating, sliding, and
coasting, and above all, snowballing. Yet the boys enjoyed the
lengthening twilight---the hour their mother devoted to them.
"Will you please to give me two cents, Mother?" said Frank, one day.
"For what?"
"To buy a piece of chalk."
"And two for me, Mother," said Harry, "for I want a piece as well as
Frank."
"What are you both going to do with chalk?" asked their mother. They
were silent. She asked again, but they made no reply. "I cannot give
you the money till you tell me what you want of the chalk. Why are
you not willing that I should know?"
The boys continued silent for a short time, and then Frank said, "I
am afraid that, if you know what we are going to do with the chalk,
you will not let us have the money."
"Then," replied their mother, "you think what you want to do is
wrong. I, perhaps, ought to insist upon your telling me what you
want of the chalk. I love to give you every innocent pleasure, and
what is right for you to do I think I may know about. However, if
you will assure me it is for nothing wrong that you want the chalk,
I will ask no more questions, and give you the money."
"We do not mean to do any great harm with it," said Harry. "Still I
am afraid you will not quite like to have us do it, mothers are so
much more particular than boys, you know."
"Try and see if we disagree about this matter," said their mother.
"Shall I tell?" said Harry to Frank.
"Yes," he replied. "It is no such dreadful affair. Let's tell mother
all about it. You know, she said the other day that she remembered
when she was a boy."
They all laughed at this often quoted blunder, and Harry began: "You
see, Mother, that yesterday John Green contrived, while we were in
school, and engaged in doing our lessons, to make a great B on
Frank's and my back, with a piece of chalk. John is a good hand at
such things, and he did it so nicely, that the master did not see
him, and neither of us saw the B on the other. When we went out to
play, all the boys cried out, "B for blockhead, B for blunderbuss, B
for booby," and so on, ever so many other names beginning with B,
and kept pointing at us. At last, I saw Frank's mark, and he saw
mine. I can tell you we were both angry enough. Now we want to be
revenged on John Green, and have a capital plan. You see he will be
on his guard, and we must be very cunning. To-morrow is exhibition
day, and he will have on his best dark-green jacket, and Frank and I
are to sit one on each side of him. You see he is really a dunce
about every thing but playing tricks; and, when he is asked a
question, he will be scared out of his senses, and not know what to
say. Now Frank is going to pretend to help him, while I write Dunce
in large letters on the stupid fellow's back. John will not know
what I am doing, I am sure; and, as he is a real dunce, it will make
a good laugh; every one will think he is well served, and the whole
school will make fun of him."
"So," said Mrs. Chilton, "you acknowledge that you are planning a
piece of revenge."
"Why, yes, Mother," replied Frank; "I suppose you would think it
ought to be called revenge, but I don't see any great harm in it.
Schoolboys always play such tricks, and no boy thinks the worse of
another for such a thing."
"You think," said Mrs. Chilton, "that this schoolmate of yours will
be so embarrassed at answering the questions that he will not know
what he is about; you mean, one of you, to pretend to be his friend
and help him, while the other makes him appear like a fool to the
rest of the boys."
Frank and Harry looked a little troubled, and were silent a while.
Then Frank said, "It is no more than what John would do; 'tis what
he deserves, and it is true enough that he is a dunce."
"I will tell you, Frank, a better way of being revenged," replied
his mother.
"What is it, Mother?"
"Sit by him, as you intended, and when he is troubled and perplexed,
help him as well as you can, and be particularly kind to him."
"And so reward him for making fools of us," said Prank, pettishly.
"No, Mother, what you say may be very good, but I don't want to do
such a thing as that."
"If you were to treat him in the way I propose, do you think he
would ever treat you unkindly again? Would he not feel deeply
ashamed of his conduct if you thus returned him good for evil?"
The boys were silent, but it was evident that they did not quite
relish their mother's advice, nor feel at all disposed to help John
Green say his lessons.
"I will tell you a story," said Mrs. Chilton, of a man who overcame
evil with good. A gentleman was once travelling alone in a gig
through a very unfrequented road. There was no house, no sign of
human existence there. It was so still that the hills and rocks and
deep woods gave back the echo of his horse's hoofs; the song of a
bird or the chirping of a cricket seemed to fill a great space, and
fell on the ear with a strange and almost startling effect. He was
observing or rather feeling this extreme solitude and stillness,
when suddenly at a turn in the road he came upon a man who placed
himself directly before the horse's head. The man had a dark, bad
expression in his face, and fixed his eye upon the traveller in such
a way as to convince him that the man meant to stop and rob him.
The gentleman immediately drew up his reins, and said kindly,
"Friend, if you are going my way, step into my gig, and let me take
you on."
The man hesitated, and then got in. My friend, who was a clergyman,
began immediately to talk earnestly about many interesting things,
and kept up a lively conversation. At last, he mentioned the
uncommon loneliness of the road, and observed that it would be a
good place for a robbery. He then went on to speak of robbers, and
then of criminals in general, and of what he thought was the right
way to treat them. He said that society should try to instruct and
reform them; that putting them to death was wicked; that, by patient
love and kindness, we should win them back to virtue, that we should
show them the way to peace and honor. He expressed his belief, that
there was something good in the heart of the very worst man, and
said that he believed God had placed a witness of Himself in every
human heart. "I am a non-resistant"--concluded the clergyman, "and I
would rather die than take the life of my bitterest enemy."
The man listened very attentively. When they came to the next road,
he asked to be allowed to get out, as he said his home lay that way.
After bidding farewell, he added, "I thank you for taking me in, and
for all you have said to me. I shall never forget it. You have saved
me from a crime. When I met you, I meant to rob you. I could easily
have done so; but your kind words put better thoughts into my heart.
I think I shall never have such an evil purpose again. I thank God I
met you. You have made me a better man."
"Now," said Mrs. Chilton, "I will give you, boys, the money you ask
for, and leave you to do as you think best about John Green."
"But, Mother," said Harry, "I am sure chalking a boy's back is a
very different thing from robbing a man; and chalking back again is
not like keeping a poor fellow in prison all his life, or hanging
him."
"Very true, Harry, but the principle of overcoming evil with good is
the same for both cases. The evil purpose in the robber's heart was
overcome by the love and kindness of the man he meant to injure.
Think the whole matter over, boys, and let me know to-morrow what
you have done. I leave you free to do as you think best."
The next day after school, she asked them what they had done about
John Green, and whether they had spent their money for chalk to
write dunce on his back.
"I bought a piece of chalk," said Frank, "for I thought I might want
very much to pay him back for his trick upon us, but the poor fellow
looked so frightened that I did not want to touch him."
"I did not buy any chalk," said Harry, "for I felt almost sure that,
if I had a piece in my pocket, I should leave some mark on his
back."
"Did you then do nothing to revenge yourselves?" asked their mother.
"Frank had such a revenge as you would approve of," said Harry.
"One of the examiners asked John where Athens was. The poor fellow
could not tell, for he is a real dunce, though we did not chalk the
word on his back. Well, he was just going to say that he did not
know, when Frank whispered the answer very softly into his ear, and
saved him from being disgraced. I did want, just then, to write
dunce on John's back; but, on the whole, I pitied him, and, when I
heard him, after the examination, thank Frank, and say, "I am sorry
for what I did the other day," I did feel that it was better to
overcome evil with good, though it comes hard, Mother, sometimes."
"Very true," said Mrs. Chilton; "to do right is not always easy. At
first, it is perhaps always hard, but it grows easier and easier,
the more we try; till, at last, that which was painful becomes
pleasant. Some good person, I forget who, said, "Whenever I want to
get over a dislike of any person, I always try to find an
opportunity to do him a service." Tell me, Frank, if you do not feel
more kindly towards John Green, since you did him that kindness."
"I suppose I do," said Prank. "My anger is gone, at any rate."
"We don't want candles yet, do we, Mother," said Harry. "There is
the moon just over the old pine tree, and there is a bright little
star waiting upon her. Now is our story time. Can you not make up
something to tell us?"
"I cannot think of any thing," said Mrs. Chilton. "I believe I spun
all the cobwebs out of my brain when I told you about the old
garret."
"Did you not say to us, the other day, Mother," said Frank, "that,
when you were at uncle John's many years ago, before we were born,
you wrote down some stories? I think you told aunt Susan that you
meant, when we were old enough, to read them to us."
"I did, Frank, and when the light comes, I will read some of them.
Meantime, I will tell you one or two little anecdotes. I was dining
yesterday with a gentleman who told me this story. He was returning
from England to Boston in one of the fine royal steamers. When not
very far from the end of the voyage, he and some other gentlemen
determined to indulge themselves with the pleasure of giving a
dinner as good as they had every day to the sailors. I suppose you
know that in these steamers the passengers pay a large price for the
passage, and are feasted every day with luxuries. The gentleman
asked the captain's leave to give this dinner, and wished him to
order it; but the captain replied, "I will have nothing to do with
such nonsense. I will give steward orders to do whatever you bid
him; and I don't care what you do, only I must not appear in it."
Accordingly, the gentleman gave the steward orders to provide the
very best dinner that the ship could afford, telling him to prepare
four courses, and adding that if the dinner was in any respect
inferior to what the cabin passengers had it would not be paid for.
The steward was desired to keep it a profound secret who ordered the
dinner, and not to say any thing about it beforehand.
When the day came, the sailors were astonished that they did not
have their dinner at the usual hour. Presently all hands were called
on deck. This was such an unusual thing when all was quiet in the
ship, that they were still more puzzled. The gentlemen meant to have
them dine in the cabin; but the captain advised against this on the
ground that sailors would feel confined in the cabin, and would not
enjoy themselves. So the dinner was served on deck. When the sailors
were assembled, and were ordered to take their places at the dinner
before them, they obeyed, looking greatly astonished. They were
first helped to soup--then to meats of all sorts--then puddings,
pies, &c.--then nuts, oranges, raisins, figs, and wine. At first,
they stared, as if they were in the land of dreams; but presently
the enchanting realities before them were welcomed and consumed with
the greatest relish. They were waited upon in the most respectful
manner. Their feast had no drawback. All was good and agreeable as
possible.
The gentleman said he had been at many grand dinners, but had never
enjoyed one so much as this.
The sailors tried to find out their benefactor, but no one would
tell them.
At last their suspicions fell upon the right man, him who told me
the story.
They chose the oldest of their number to wait upon him in the name
of the whole, to express their thanks. "When the old man approached
me," said the gentleman to me, "he took off his hat and was going to
speak, but the tears came in his eyes, and he could not. He went
away, and presently returned; but again he lost his self-command,
and turned away. At last, he recovered himself enough to speak, and
these were his words: "'Tis the first time, sir, that we were ever
treated like men."
The captain, who laughed at the whim of these gentlemen, said
afterwards that he had never had such work from his sailors as he
had from that time to the end of the voyage.