I have the same old, old story to tell. My conduct has been such
again--at any rate, that's what father says; and I've had to go
up-stairs with him, and I needn't explain what that means. It seems very
hard, for I'd tried to do my very best, and I'd heard Sue say, "That boy
hasn't misbehaved for two days good gracious I wonder what can be the
matter with him." There's a fatal litty about it, I'm sure. Poor father!
I must give him an awful lot of trouble, and I know he's had to get two
new bamboo canes this winter just because I've done so wrong, though I
never meant to do it.
It happened on account of coasting. We've got a magnificent hill. The
road runs straight down the middle of it, and all you have to do is to
keep on the road. There's a fence on one side, and if you run into it
something has got to break. John Kruger, who is a stupid sort of a
fellow, ran into it last week head-first, and smashed three pickets, and
everybody said it was a mercy he hit it with his head, or he might have
broken some of his bones and hurt himself. There isn't any fence on the
other side, but if you run off the road on that side you'll go down the
side of a hill that's steeper than the roof of the Episcopal church, and
about a mile long, with a brook full of stones down at the bottom.
The other night Mr. Travers said-- But I forgot to say that Mr. Martin
is back again, and coming to our house worse than ever. He was there,
and Mr. Travers and Sue, all sitting in the parlor, where I was
behaving, and trying to make things pleasant, when Mr. Travers said,
"It's a bright moonlight night let's all go out and coast." Sue said,
"Oh that would be lovely Jimmy get your sled." I didn't encourage them,
and I told father so, but he wouldn't admit that Mr. Travers or Sue or
Mr. Martin or anybody could do anything wrong. What I said was, "I don't
want to go coasting. It's cold and I don't feel very well, and I think
we ought all to go to bed early so we can wake up real sweet and
good-tempered." But Sue just said, "Don't you preach Jimmy if you're
lazy just say so and Mr. Travers will take us out." Then Mr. Martin he
must put in and say, "Perhaps the boy's afraid don't tease him he ought
to be in bed anyhow." Now I wasn't going to stand this, so I said, "Come
on. I wanted to go all the time, but I thought it would be best for old
people to stay at home, and that's why I didn't encourage you." So I got
out my double-ripper, and we all went out on the hill and started down.
I sat in front to steer, and Sue sat right behind me, and Mr. Travers
sat behind her to hold her on, and Mr. Martin sat behind him. We went
splendidly, only the dry snow flew so that I couldn't see anything, and
that's why we got off the road and on to the side hill before I knew it.
The hill was just one glare of ice, and the minute we struck the ice the
sled started away like a hurricane. I had just time to hear Mr. Martin
say, "Boy mind what you're about or I'll get off," when she struck
something--I don't know what--and everybody was pitched into the air,
and began sliding on the ice without anything to help them, except me. I
caught on a bare piece of rock, and stopped myself. I could see Sue
sitting up straight, and sliding like a streak of lightning, and crying,
"Jimmy father Charles Mr. Martin O my help me." Mr. Travers was on his
stomach, about a rod behind her, and gaining a little on her, and Mr.
Martin was on his back, coming down head-first, and beating them both.
All of a sudden he began to go to pieces. Part of him would slide off
one way, and then another part would try its luck by itself. I can tell
you it was an awful and surreptitious sight. They all reached the bottom
after a while, and when I saw they were not killed, I tried it myself,
and landed all right. Sue was sitting still, and mourning, and saying,
"My goodness gracious I shall never be able to walk again my comb is
broken and that boy isn't fit to live." Mr. Travers wasn't hurt very
much, and he fixed himself all right with some pins I gave him, and his
handkerchief; but his overcoat looked as if he'd stolen it from a
scarecrow. When he had comforted Sue a little (and I must say some
people are perfectly sickening the way they go on), he and I collected
Mr. Martin--all except his teeth--and helped put him together, only I
got his leg on wrong side first, and then we helped him home.
This was why father said that my conduct was such, and that his friend
Martin didn't seem to be able to come into his house without being
insulted and injured by me. I never insulted him. It isn't my fault if
he can't slide down a hill without coming apart. However, I've had my
last suffering on account of him. The next time he comes apart where I
am I shall not wait to be punished for it, but shall start straight for
the North-pole, and if I discover it the British government will pay me
mornamillion dollars. I'm able to sit down this morning, but my spirits
are crushed, and I shall never enjoy life any more.