THE FIGHT.
"What's all the noise about down there?" asked Aunt Lucy.
"Dem youngsters is fighten over de puppies, better come down here, Miss
Lucy."
Bo was screaming, Amy scolding, and Jess barking and whining. Aunt Lucy
hurried down stairs to see what could cause such a commotion.
When she made her appearance at the head of the cellar stairs Amy was
pulling at her brother, and Bo, doubled up, was holding one of the
puppies in a tight embrace at the risk of ending its existence.
"Stop, immediately!" commanded their aunt. "Children, I am ashamed of
you."
"Well, that bad boy is tormenting the poor dog."
"Put the puppy down, Bo."
"Here, Aunty, you stoop down with it, Jess will jump in my face if I go
near her nest. I only wanted to love the little thing, and Jess would
not have made such a fuss if Amy didn't put her up to it."
"I have a good mind to deprive you both of your ride this afternoon as a
punishment for your silly conduct. Go upstairs and let me hear no more
quarreling."
After Aunt Lucy and Amy had gone, Bo went into the kitchen to get
Hetty's sympathy, she was always willing to listen to her boy, although
she was provoked sometimes by his mischievous tricks.
"Hetty, dear, don't you think Amy is an antiquated monkey?"
"Oh, honey, don't call sister names."
"Yes, I will; 'Monkey' is too good for her, I wish I knew of the
horriblest animal ever was, I'd call Amy after it."
"Now be a good boy, don't fight no more, and--"
"Yes, I will fight; sister is so wicked; she's just a Mannypochia
cobra."
"Oh, law! Massa Bo, that's a awful name. What kind of a animal is it?"
"Well, it's something like a big snake, only fifty times bigger, and it
hisses and cracks your bones and--"
"What you gwan do when you go to confession; you got to tell the names
you call, and you ain't gwan to 'member dat big word."
"Oh, I'll remember; I'll just say 'Father, my sister was so dreadful,
she most broke my bones, so I called her the name of a snake that breaks
bones.'"
Hetty laughed, and asked Bo if he was "most ready for his first
confessin," telling him he "better don't have too many bad things to
tell on other people; Father gwan to tell you: 'Say child you come to
tell you' own sins; I don't want to hear what you' sister done did.'"
"But," insisted Bo, "the priest will listen when I tell him how Amy
fights over the puppies."
"Better don't, 'cause if you do, Father gwan give you two penances, one
for your sins, and another for Amy's sins."
BOLAX'S FIRST CONFESSION.
Bolax having passed his ninth birthday, his mother thought it time he
should make his first confession. Although well instructed and prepared
for the great event, he had a dread of going to confession.
It was September 8th, the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin; Mrs. Allen
called her boy and told him she had decided on taking him to see a
Jesuit priest. Bolax was delighted with the trip to town, but when he
got near the church he wanted to run away.
"Oh Mamma, dear," cried he, "I'll go some other time."
Notwithstanding his resistance, his mother compelled him to enter the
church. As soon as the child caught sight of the imposing interior, with
its Altars, statues and pictures, he seemed suddenly overcome with awe,
his whole manner changed, and dropping on his knees, he whispered:
"Oh, Mamma, this is a very holy place! Oh, I can feel God right near
me!"
One of the Fathers came down the aisle and entered the confessional;
Bolax followed him without any compulsion, and seemed thoroughly
impressed with the sanctity of the act he was about to perform.
There happened to be no other penitents, so the good Father came out of
the box and spoke to the boy.
"So this is your first confession," said he. "Well, my child, God bless
you, and keep your soul ever as pure as it is today."
Then turning to the mother, he spoke about the boy, saying:
"I am greatly interested in my little penitent, and I want him to write
to me every two weeks, giving me a report of his conduct."
Bolax promised to write.
After thanking the priest for his kind interest, and helping her boy
with his Thanksgiving, Mrs. Allen left the church. Bolax skipped down
the steps, and I fear the good people who were at their devotions, must
have been very much startled at the loud "Cock-a-doodel-do" given by Bo,
as he reached the pavement.
"For goodness sake stop!" cried his mother. "Can't you behave?"
"No, Mamma; I'm too happy. I feel as if I could fly. Confession isn't a
bit hard; I'd like to go every day."
BOLAX'S FIRST LETTER.
_Dear Rev. Father_:
Ever since I went to confession, everybody says I'm worse.
I let my dog out of the cellar, and he most chewed up my sister's dog.
Roy, is my dog's name; Trix, is my sister's dog. Roy caught on to Trix,
and such howling and yelping never was heard. Sister was so afraid, she
hid inside the wardrobe, and every minute she would put out her head and
yell:
"Oh, my poor Trix!"
Mamma and the cook tried to separate the dogs. Mamma caught hold of
Roy's tail, and Hetty caught on to Trix's tail, and both pulled, but
still the dogs wouldn't stop fighting. Then I got a stick to whack them,
and I broke Mamma's glasses by accident.
At last Hetty threw a bucket of water on them; that stopped the fight.
Hetty says she's 'done flustered to death.' Sister says I'm the
awfulest boy in the world.
I haven't done anything bad today, yet.
Your little friend,
BOLAX.
THE REV. FATHER'S ANSWER.
ST. FRANCIS XAVIER COLLEGE.
_Dear Little Friend_:
Even though everyone should say that you have been "worse" than you had
been before making your confession, I know that our Lord will excuse you
because you acknowledge your faults.
You see, all expected you would be better after confession, and they are
much disappointed, because they have not yet seen any improvement.
What a scrape you got into, by letting your dog out of the cellar, and
how cruel it was to have poor Trix "chewed up." You were shocked, I am
sure, when you found you had hit your mother. Now, how did all this come
about? Just because you did not ask permission to let your dog out of
the cellar. If you had acted under obedience, you would have avoided all
the trouble. Now, this is the lesson to take from your fault.
Do not act without permission, and always obey promptly and cheerfully,
then you will be happy; your parents will be happy and Our Dear Lord
will bless you.
Hoping to see you soon, my dear little boy, I am your friend in Christ,
ALOYSIUS ROCOFORT, S. J.
SECOND LETTER.
_Dear Rev. Father_:
Since my third confession, everyone says I am showing improvement. Papa
says it is your letters that make me good. Mamma says it is the grace of
God given through confession.
Hetty says, "I do believe dat boy done got religion for sure."
Everybody believes in my conversion, excepting Sister Amy; she says the
badness couldn't go so sudden; it is still there. Trix's ear is sore
yet; that is the reason she is cross.
Indeed, Father, I feel good. I obey better; I have only to be called
three times in the morning, and I don't forget things when I am sent on
errands, and I even study without growling.
Dear Father, would you like a pair of white rats? They are lovely pets
and run all over me; they eat corn off the top of my head and nibble my
ears. If you want them, I will put them in a wire cage and carry them
into town the next time I go to see you.
Your loving little friend,
BOLAX ALLEN.
* * * * *
ST. FRANCIS XAVIER COLLEGE.
_My Dear Little Friend_:
How rejoiced I am to learn by your last report that you are giving
satisfaction to Mamma and Papa, and learning to obey; the greatest of
all virtues "obedience," preserves us from falling into other sins.
Sister will come round soon, just let her see you are in earnest, and
surprise her by persevering in your good resolutions.
I thank you for the kind offer to give me your pets, but I fear the good
brother who has charge of my room would object to rats--white or
black--so I must decline your present with many thanks, dear child.
Come to see me next Wednesday, I will be home from 2 to 6 P. M.
God bless you,
ALOYSIUS ROCOFORT, S. J.
* * * * *
ST FRANCIS XAVIER COLLEGE.
_Dear Little Friend_:
What a pity I was not at home when you called. I wished to see you to
find out how you had been doing since I last met you. I hope you went to
confession to one of the other priests that day.
After Holy Communion, which you are too young to receive as yet, there
is no better means to aid you in doing right than a complete and humble
declaration of all that you have done amiss.
It is a good thing to say your prayers in the morning, even though you
have to be reminded by your mother. I wish you had interest enough
yourself to say them without being reminded.
Always your friend,
A. ROCOFORT, S. J.
A VERY GREAT LOSS.
"Aunt Lucy," said Bolax one day. "I had a very important paper, and I
cannot find it. I took such pains to write it because it was to go to
Father Rocofort. Did you see it? You would know it was important because
it was written without blots."
"Indeed, child, I did not see it, ask Hetty; she cleaned your room this
morning."
"Hetty, Hetty," called Bo, "did you see a long narrow strip of paper
about a yard long, with writing on it?"
"Yes, I done see a paper like dat; it was on the floor of you' room when
I go clean it, and the puppy was a chewing of it. I done took it and put
it under a book on your desk."
"Oh Hetty, why, oh, why did you let puppy chew up my paper? It had my
sins on it."
"For de Lawd sake. Bolax! you' sins! Den I guess de poor little dog done
pizened by dis time. I ain't seed him since he et up dem sins, three
hours ago. I guess I'll find him lying dead somewheres."
"Hetty, you stop making fun of me; I'm in real earnest. Sins are things
people only tell to the priest, or to their mothers, and I don't want
mine to be blowing round for every one to see them."
After a great search, the paper was found and Bo inclosed it in a letter
ready to send Father Rocofort. When his mother read the contents, she
explained that he could not make a confession in that manner.
"Confession must be made on bended knees."
"Well, then Ma, dear, I can't go to town this week, as I have such a
cold. I'm so sorry; Father will think I'm getting bad again."
ST. FRANCIS XAVIER COLLEGE.
_Dear Little Friend:_
Your letter of last week has not come to hand, so without waiting for
it, I feel I ought to tell you the second thought that came to my mind
when I read the letter which did reach me.
You may remember you said these words: "I did not disobey this week,
because I was sick."
Now my thought was just this: From what this boy says it would appear
that if he were in good health, he would have disobeyed. As disobedience
is a sin; a great evil because displeasing to God. What a blessing it is
to be sick, if one is thereby prevented from doing anything that is
offensive to God.
You are perhaps too young to know that all things that come from God are
good in themselves, since God, who sends them, is good.
Did you ever think that sickness, poverty, hunger, cold, sorrow and
suffering could be good? Perhaps not. It is hard for a small boy to see
that what he does not like, can be good. But if God likes a thing, it
must be good, and if God dislikes a thing, it must be bad.
Please try to understand all this, and you will become a good boy and a
good man.
Your friend in Christ,
ALOYSIUS ROCOFORT, S. J.
* * * * *
September 1st.
_Dear Rev. Father_:
I wish you would be so kind as to pray I may be sent to a Catholic
school, there is none in our town for boys, but maybe I could get to St.
Thomas' College, if they would only take me.
Mamma and Papa thank you so much for writing to me. Indeed it is kind,
and it must take up your time. I shall always keep your letters; I love
them.
Papa says it is wonderful that the President of a college would bother
writing to a little boy.
Your loving little friend,
B. ALLEN.
* * * * *
ST. FRANCIS XAVIER COLLEGE.
_My Dear Little Friend_:
Having been very busy during the week, I have not been able to make an
earlier reply to your little biography of the week. One or two thoughts
that came to my mind as I read your words is, I think, worth putting on
paper.
You seemed to think it remarkable that a man of my age, education and
busy life should trouble himself about a little boy. Now I thought you a
strange little boy for that, and for this reason. You are a Christian,
believing and knowing that Christ died for you; gave His heart's blood
for your eternal happiness.
Knowing this as I do, and meditating on the life and work of Christ, and
striving so hard to imitate him; do you think it strange that I should
take an interest in you, when you allow me? It would be indeed strange
if I did not wish to see you grow up a good docile, obedient, kind and
high-principled boy, and a brave, true, upright, high-souled man, and do
all in my power, as far as you will allow to bring about such a result.
God wants that, your parents hope it; you yourself would like it, if you
could get it by wishing, or if it did not cost you any trouble. But it
does cost trouble, though it is worth a thousand troubles.
Your friend in Christ,
ALOYSIUS ROCOFORT, S. J.
P. S.--I will indeed pray that you may be admitted into St. Thomas',
although in your case, with such a mother to guide you, the public
school might be tolerated.
BOLAX DESERVES A WHIPPING.
"Another unsatisfactory report," exclaimed Papa Allen, as he held an
open letter in his hand. "This is the fourth since the opening of school
in September, and now it is only the first Week of October. Spelling,
30; Arithmetic, 20. Professor too, sends complaints of your music
lesson; then you have neglected your rabbits."
At this Bo jumped up and ran out to the rabbit-hutch. Yelling with all
his might for Hetty: "Oh, my rabbits; my rabbits are gone."
"When did you feed them last," asked his father, who was looking out of
a window. Bo thought a moment, then remembered he had not seen them for
several days.
"But where have they gone, Hetty dear?"
"Done turned into air; what you spect dey gwan do when dey has nothing
to eat but air."
Then Hetty laughed, and Bo went back to the dining room.
"Excuse me for leaving you, Papa, I am so worried. Indeed, indeed, I
didn't mean to forget my pets."
"My son, we allow you to have pets to teach you the lesson of
responsibility, which means to keep in mind any duty you have to
perform. You do not mean to be cruel, but you are. I have saved many of
your pets from hunger and thirst; now I shall do so no longer, neither
shall the servants. Your rabbits have been given to Flossy Day, who will
always attend to them, because she is a thoughtful, kind little girl.
"On all points you are at fault--lessons, music and pets; all alike
forgotten, if there is no improvement, you will be punished for your
delinquencies."
Unfortunately at the end of the next week, the report was worse than
ever, and Papa was shocked and expressed himself in very severe
language. Bolax showed an unusual spirit of insubordination and temper
on being reproved, and his father whipped him. The boy was heart-broken;
it was the first time a stroke had been laid upon him in his life. His
mother did not approve of corporal punishment, but, of course, would not
interfere in what her husband thought to be his duty.
Poor Bo felt degraded and went to hide. His mother knocked at his
bedroom door, but he would not open it.
"No one loves me any more!" sobbed the poor child. "If Aunt Lucy had
been home I would not have been whipped."
Amy went into the room and putting her arms around her brother's neck,
told him she would give him her pony "Ben Bolt," for his very own. "Oh,
Sister, I thank you, but nothing can take the pain out of my heart."
"I know darling, but Papa is just as pained as you. He said just now, he
had rather cut off his hand than hurt you, but you know you would not
listen to anything and kept going wild. I tell you what I will do the
next time you deserve a whipping; I will stand and take it for you." "I
wouldn't let you, dear, sweet Sister; no indeed, but I'll never deserve
one again."
"Good night and here's Ma dear, to kiss you."
In the morning Hetty went up to Bo's room to call him for breakfast; his
mother had let him sleep late because she was attending to her husband,
who had to take an early train for New York.
"Come down here honey," Hetty called again, "Come see the nice fish I'se
got for you." Bo went into the dining room and begged the kind creature
to sit with him. "You're my best friend, Hetty, dear." "Indeed, I'se
your friend. Eat up de fish; it's good, and don't bother lookin' at it."
"Oh, I'm just dissecting it." "What's dat?" "Seeing what's inside of it.
Hetty, dear, do you know fishes have spinal cords?" "Cords! land sakes!
where dey done keep dem?"
"Oh, up their backs, of course. Here, see this bone, I break it and here
is a string that makes the fish move." "Oh, Massa Bo, where you done
learn all dis?"
"I heard the A class saying their physiology, and I asked Mamma, and she
said we had just such a cord in our backbone." Here Mamma came into the
room. "Law bless us, Miss Allen dat chile ought never be whipped for
learnin'. He knows lots more now than some men."
Mrs. Allen sat down and explained to the children the different parts of
the fish.
This led to an interesting talk. Amy asked if shellfish were stupid,
because people often say: "As dumb as a clam."
"Not all dear, there is the beautiful Nautilus; the little mariner and
really our first navigator."
Then the mother told of the sea nettle, the razorfish, the cuttlefish,
that throws a black fluid out of its body, which darkens the water, and
when pursued by an enemy escapes by this means. It is a very useful
fish; long ago the Romans used that black fluid for ink.
Bo was so interested, he forgot his trouble, and no one noticed it was
past school time.
"I'se just glad," said Hetty; "you children come play dat funny song
about de Hoo Doo man, and say dat piece what tells what de school bell
talks when it rings."
"Really my son, I am sorry you missed school this morning. It will put
another bad point on your next report." "Ma, dear, I'm tired of that old
school; it's a girls' school, anyhow. I'm the only Catholic there, and
every now and then some one says something ugly about my religion. Of
course, I have to fight boys that do it, but I must bear it when girls
tell me I adore idols. If you send me to St. Thomas' I'll study hard."
WHAT THE SCHOOL BELL SAYS.
It is wonderful what unlike things
The school bell says to boys when it rings.
For instance the sluggard who drags along
On his way to school, hears this sort of song:
Oh, suz hum!
Why did I come?
Study 'till four--
Books are a bore!
Oh, how I wish
I could run off and fish!
See! there's the brook
Here's line and hook.
Hurry up--eh?
What's that you say?
Oh--hum--ho!
Suppose I must go,
Study 'till four,
Books are a bore.
Then the boy who loves to be faithful and true,
Who does what his parents think best he should do,
Comes bravely along with satchel and book,
The wind in his whistle, the sun in his look.
And these are the thoughts that well up like a song,
As he hears the old bell with its faithful ding dong:
Cling, clang, cling--
I'm so glad I could sing!
Heaven so blue,
Duty to do!
Birds in the air,
Everything fair,
Even a boy
Finds study a joy!
When my work is done
I'm ready for fun,
Keener my play
For tasks of the day,
Cling clang, cling.
I' so glad I can sing.
These are the songs which the two boys heard,
When the school bell was singing word for word.
Which do you think was the truer song?
Which do you hear as you're trudging along?
Don't be a laggard--far better I say!
To work while you work, and play when you play.
--_By J. Bucham_.
"Why so serious Amy," said her mother; "you look as if you were deeply
reflecting."
I have just been thinking of those "wonders of the sea" you tell about.
"Ma, dear, how much you do know; you can tell something of every bird
and beast and insect. I wonder if I ever shall know as much?"
"My child, you know much more of this delightful kind of study than I
did at your age. Until you were four years old my information on such
subjects was very limited."
"And why did you study, mother, dear?"
"I had a strong incentive; I studied because I loved you."
Bolax pressed close to his mother's side. "Oh, Ma, dear! I will study
too because I love you."
When Mr. Allen returned in the evening, Bo went to the gate to meet him,
and threw his arms around his father's neck, asking to be forgiven and
promising to be a good boy in the future. Mr. Allen clasped the dear
child to his heart wondering if he had made a mistake in his manner of
chastising a boy with such a loving disposition.
That night the good mother told of Bo's desire to change schools.
"That's just what I intended proposing; I had a conversation with old
Mathews, who has brought up seven sons. He thinks from what I told him
of our son, a change would be just what he requires at present."
A few days after this, Mrs. Allen took Bo up to the College and begged
the President to admit him.
"He is entirely below the age, Madame," remarked the President, "we have
no pupils under twelve years of age;" however, he allowed himself to be
persuaded and acceded to the lady's request on condition that the boy
should have a special tutor, which would cost an extra fee.
To this Mrs. Allen gladly agreed, as the child wanted three months of
being ten years old and a private teacher was just what he needed.
Bo was delighted to go up to St. Thomas', especially as it meant daily
rides on the train.