RESENTING A BASE PROPOSAL.
The ground was now getting bare fast, and baseball began to be in order,
and James must learn that. Peter brought a ball to school and James soon
mastered the game in the simple method in which it was then played, and
bore no more honorable appellation than that of “knock-up and catch.”
“How many things a boy has to learn,” said Bertie to Peter as they were
going home from school after playing ball for the first time. “I didn’t
think a boy had so many things to learn till we began to teach James.”
“Because we had to teach James right along, but we were years about it
ourselves. We spread it all over.”
“There’s only one more thing I want James to do, then I shall be
satisfied. Ned Conly says master is going to have a spelling school and
invite scholars from the other districts, and I want to persuade James
to spell, and if he’ll only spell more words than William Morse, Orcutt
and Dave Riggs, I shall sit down contented and perfectly happy, and let
things take their course.”
“You are a revengeful little viper, brother of mine, did you know it?
You can’t forget the blow on the head Morse gave you.”
“It is not that. I wouldn’t have you think it is that, but I want James
to beat those three boys who have done all they could to injure him, and
out of pure malice because that seems what ought to take place.”
“Well, I shouldn’t wonder if he did, for they are three about as poor
spellers of their age as there are in school.”
Mr. Whitman bought James a large blank book, and in it he set down his
sums and printed with a pen headings beginning with capitals at the top
of the pages, and took great pains with the writing and the forms of the
figures. In addition to this he took some brass mountings from the stock
of an old fowling-piece, put them in a vice and filed them all away, and
sprinkled the filings over the headings of his pages before the ink was
dry, having also put glue in the ink to make the brass dust adhere. On
the last day of school the master passed this and the books of several
other boys around among the school committee as examples of proficiency.
On the evening of examination day they had the spelling school, and
James out-spelled Morse, Riggs and Orcutt. Peter was fully occupied
during the spelling holding his hand over Bertie’s mouth to keep him
from saying “good” at every success of his pupil and loud enough for
everybody to hear.
Mr. Whitman and his wife, and even grandfather attended both the
examination and the spelling school. To go out in the evening except to
a religious meeting was something that the old gentleman of late years
never had done.
The family went home rejoicing in the success of their endeavors, and
experiencing that unalloyed happiness, the result of benefiting others;
and the term which had opened so gloomily for James, closed in triumph.
Mr. Whitman lived some distance from the saw mill, and accordingly had a
sawpit in the door-yard where he often sawed small quantities of stuff
for wheels, harrows and other uses, and in the course of the fall and
winter the old gentleman had, when he wished to saw anything, taken
James to help him, and thus the latter had obtained considerable
practice in working with that implement.
Mr. Whitman had in the winter, cut and hewn out some rock-maple logs, to
saw into plank for mill-wheels, and cogs, which required to be sawed
very accurately; he also had cut some red-oak for common uses, in
respect to which he was not so particular; he therefore resolved to saw
the red-oak first, and, if James proved equal to the work, to cut out
the mill-stuff afterwards. The two had worked ten days with the whipsaw,
when Mrs. Whitman said to her husband,—
“How do you get along, sawing your stuff with James?”
“We get along well. It has always been my way, since father has been so
lame, when I had timber of any great amount to saw, to hire Mr. John
Dunbar, give him nine shillings or two dollars sometimes a day, and
board him; but I thought as James seemed to take to handling tools, and
was a strong, tough boy, and I was going to have him for some years, I
would try and teach him, and in two days more we shall cut all the
stuff, and it will be done as well as though I had hired Dunbar, though
it has taken much longer, and made harder work for myself, and after
haying I mean to learn him to saw on top.”
“A good whip-sawyer, husband, always commands good wages, and it will be
fitting James to get his living when he leaves you.”
“I intend to do more for him, and must, to carry out the idea I started
with, which was to treat him, as far as fitting him to make his way in
the world is concerned, as I do my own boys; not only teach him all I
can about labor, but also give him some ideas about property, and the
value of a dollar, for a man may work his fingers off to no purpose, if
he don’t know how to take care of what he gets.
“I have got some clear boards in the workshop, and I think I shall let
him make himself a chest of them, and give him a lock and hinges, and
handles, and paint to paint it, and then he will have something, and
some place that he can call his own.”
“But what is the use of talking to a person about saving who has nothing
to save, and no way of getting anything; the principle can’t grow much
without the practice, and he has nothing to practice with. It seems to
me very much as if grandfather had sat in his arm-chair, and tried to
teach James to fell trees by telling him how, and James contented
himself with listening. What is the use of giving him a chest with a
lock, when, as Bertie says, all in the world he has got to lock up is
his mother’s Bible, and one sheet of paper, with the agreement you made
with him, written on it?”
“Very well, let him put them in, and his school-books, and his Sunday
clothes; then make him up some shirts, and knit him a good lot of
stockings. There is something, not much to be sure, but enough to give
the idea of ownership. There is something of his own that he can take
with him, something quite different from the state of a workhouse boy.”
“But you gave Peter a pair of calves; he raised them, and sold them;
Bertie has a pair of steers now, and Maria a pair of sheep. I think it
has a good effect upon them, and I don’t see why it should not upon
James.”
Jonathan Whitman, who was never in haste to decide, and very seldom
announced his intention to do anything till his mind was fully made up,
changed the subject of conversation, and there the matter rested for
that time.
It was not late enough to work upon the ground, and Mr. Whitman gave the
boards to James, and the old gentleman after he had cut and planed them,
assisted him in laying out his dove-tails, and by a little instruction
from him, James succeeded in making a handsome chest, and was evidently
highly gratified, although he was so reticent and singularly
constituted, that he never manifested either pleasure or gratitude, as
do more impulsive persons. George Wood was at Mr. Whitman’s just as
James was putting the last coat of paint on his chest, and James lifted
the cover and let him look inside. The boy went home and told his folks
about James’ chest.
“Ay,” said Mr. Wood, “Jonathan puts too much confidence in that
redemptioner altogether, and now has given him a chest; no wonder the
fellow is tickled with it, for he has got something to carry his clothes
in when he gets ready to run off.”
An event now occurred that placed the character of James in a very
strong light, and completely justified the good opinion Mr. Whitman had
formed in regard to him.
They had just finished sowing wheat, and James, having worked very hard
till after sundown, had put up the horses and sat down upon the ground
to cool off and rest, with his back against the underpinning of the
barn, which, as the ground fell off, was raised up several feet on the
back side. Into the space thus left the hens were wont to crawl, lay,
and sometimes hatch.
“Bertie,” said Mr. Whitman, “we don’t get near the eggs we should this
time of year. I don’t believe but the hens lay under the barn; why won’t
you look?”
Bertie took up a short plank in the barn floor, crawled under and
crawled about; he drove one hen that was sitting from her nest; found
several nests with eggs in them, and was searching for others, when he
heard the sound of voices outside, and recognized that of James. Looking
through a hole in the rocks he saw Daniel Blaisdell, Mr. Wood’s
redemptioner, in earnest and even passionate dispute with James.
Prompted by curiosity, he crept near enough to hear the conversation,
the nature of which made him an eager listener.
Bertie inferred from what he heard, that they had been talking some
time; that Blaisdell wanted to leave his employer by stealth, as he
could obtain plenty of work at good wages, for the next six or eight
months, whereas, at his present place, he should get only his board and
clothes, and “very mean board and beggar’s rags at that,” and wanted
James to go with him, which it seemed the former had bluntly refused to
do, as in reply to some remark of James, that Bertie was not then near
enough to hear, Blaisdell said,—
“If you are fool enough to work for nothing, when you can get high wages
by going after them, I am not.”
“Do you think I have no more principle, or good feeling, than to leave a
man who has treated me better than many of the people in England, I have
worked for, treat their own children; and that, too, just when he wants
me the most; who has put me in the way of learning to read, write, and
cipher, which of itself, is worth more to me, than four years’ labor at
the highest wages?”
“He had selfish ends in it, because he thought it would pay in the long
run. It didn’t cost him much to send you to school in the winter, when
there was not much to do; and he knew it would make you smart, and
contented to work for nothing, four years.”
“You agreed, Mr. Blaisdell, before you left England, if Mr. Wood would
pay your passage, to work on his farm three years; you have only worked
about eight months, and you want to leave him, without his knowledge,
and at the busiest time of year. Do you consider that right, Mr.
Blaisdell?”
“Do I consider it right? To be sure I do. He knew what labor was worth
over here; I didn’t. He knew, too, that I, and hundreds like me, were
starving on the other side, and took advantage of our necessity to get
his work done for nothing. He has tried to get ahead of me all he could,
but he got hold of the wrong man. I don’t say but it would have been
different had he fed me well, clothed me decently, and showed some
consideration; but he has taken all the advantage he could of my
necessity, and now I’ll take all I can of his. There’s no law in this
country against begging, and no hanging for stealing. I’ll leave him,
and you had better go with me. Come on.”
Bertie was so anxious to hear the answer James would make, that in his
efforts to get nearer, he displaced a stone of the wall that fell
outward, but the parties were too much occupied to notice it. The
opening, however, permitted a glance at the features of James, and
Bertie could perceive that he was both excited and irritated. At length
he said,—
“I have nothing to complain of; but every thing to be thankful for. I
shall stay with Mr. Whitman the four years, and do all that I can; and
if after that, he should be taken sick, and become poor, and need my
help, I’ll stay with him, and try to do by him, as he has done by me.”
“Then you must be a fool. They all said on board ship coming over, that
you was a fool, and didn’t know enough to take care of yourself, and now
I believe it. It cost Whitman about forty dollars to get you over here,
and you are going to work four years for him for that. It wouldn’t be
four coppers a day, while you can get a dollar a day now, and nine
shillings in harvest. As for your board, he won’t miss that, nor your
clothes, for they will all be made in the house.”
Bertie saw that James was growing more and more angry every moment, but
he kept his temper down admirably, and merely said,—
“If I were under no obligation to Mr. Whitman, I have pledged my word to
stay with him for four years. To break it would be a lie: I have never
told a lie, and I never shall.”
“Don’t tell me that; a man must lie once in a while, especially a poor
man. There ain’t a man in the world but has lied, and you are lying when
you say that.”
Scarcely had the words left his lips than he received a blow that sent
him headlong across the back of an ox, that lay chewing his cud near by.
An ox always rises first behind, and the startled animal jumping up,
flung Blaisdell on to his neck, and still more frightened, rising
forward, flung him from his horns, to which he clung, to the dung-heap;
and the terror of the ox communicating itself to the rest of the cattle
in the yard, they began to snort and curvet around the prostrate
intruder.
“Be off with you, or I’ll break every bone in your carcass. It is you,
and the likes of you, who have given redemptioners a bad name, and taken
the bread out of a great many honest people’s mouths on the other side,
who might have found good homes in this country.”
Blaisdell was a burly fellow, and ugly enough, but he had seen somewhat
of James’ strength on the passage over, and had received unmistakable
evidence that he was no longer the discouraged being who could be abused
with impunity.
Oblivious of eggs, sitting hens, and leaving his hat full of eggs behind
him, Bertie rushed into the house, seized his father and mother, hurried
them into the parlor, and shutting the door, told them every word he had
heard, and all he had witnessed.
“Well,” said Mrs. Whitman, turning to her husband, “you have got to the
bottom now; you have found out what is in your redemptioner, and also in
neighbor Wood’s.”
“Now, my son,” said the father, “you must not mention this to Peter,
Maria, your grandfather, nor any one, and by all means not to James.
Will you remember what I say?”
“Yes, father, I will; for I never had a secret to keep before, except
some boy’s nonsense.”
“Well, then, remember you are trusted, and don’t get Will Edibean to
help you keep it.”
“But, husband, ought you not to tell neighbor Wood?”
“No; if the man means to run off, he’ll run. He can’t watch him all the
time.”
“But he could lock him up nights.”
“He would break out, or set the house on fire.”
“But, perhaps if he knew, he would treat him better. You think he don’t
treat him very kindly?”
“That wouldn’t keep him. He wants money every Saturday night to get
liquor with. I am not going to be mixed up with it, nor have James mixed
up with it. I’ll warrant you’ll not hear a lisp from him.”
The next morning, about ten o’clock, Mr. Wood came in, much excited,
saying,—
“Good morning, Jonathan. I’ve found out what’s in my redemptioner. He’s
run off, and stolen one of my horses, and the other horse is lame, and I
want one of yours to go after him. I’m glad now I didn’t lay out any
more on him.”
“You are welcome to the horse, and I’ll go with you, if you wish; but,
he’s not worth his board. If I could get the horse, I would let the man
go about his business.”
“I won’t. I’ll get a writ for him, and give him his choice, to go back
to work, or go to jail. I want to punish him, and I want you to go with
me.”
The second day of the quest they found the horse feeding beside the
road, with the bridle under his feet, but could get no trace of the man.
It was near planting time. Mr. Whitman, the previous fall, had ploughed
under a heavy crop of clover, and in the spring sowed the ground to
wheat, with the exception of a quarter of an acre, that he had reserved
to plant.
He then said to James,—
[Illustration: “SCARCELY HAD THE WORDS LEFT HIS LIPS THAN HE RECEIVED A
BLOW THAT SENT HIM HEADLONG ACROSS THE BACK OF AN OX.” Page 198.]
“I’ll give you the use of this land. You may take the team; haul all the
dressing on it that is necessary, and plant it with potatoes; take care
of them through the summer, dig them in the fall, sell them, and have
the money; but you must pay me for the seed, or return me in the fall as
many potatoes as you plant. When you come to hoe them, you can have the
horse to plough amongst them. You must keep the ground clear of weeds;
if you do not, I shall hoe the potatoes, and then you will lose the
crop. You may plant them, and put on the dressing, in my time, but you
must hoe them at odd chances that you will find plenty of before
breakfast, while the horses are eating, at noon, and after supper, and
father will instruct you about planting them.”
By the old gentleman’s direction he put on a large quantity of dressing,
and then advised him, as the land was in such good heart, and abundantly
dressed beside, to plant his potatoes in drills, as he would thus get
more seed on the ground. When he began to plant, Maria insisted upon
dropping the seed for him.
Peter and Bertie had each of them a corn patch of his own, and they hoed
the three pieces in company. Sometimes James would be up at three
o’clock in the morning, to hoe among his potatoes, or in Bertie or
Peter’s corn patch, just which needed hoeing the most.
The boys had considerable time at their disposal, some before breakfast,
some at noon while the horses were eating and resting, and also after
supper, which they had at five o’clock, as not much work was done after
that except in haying, or wheat harvest.
This was the time chosen by grandfather to instruct James in shooting
with the rifle. James at first only manifested that fondness for a gun
common to most young people, but he soon began to feel the hidden motion
of that strange passion which throbs in the very marrow of the hunter,
and became as enthusiastic as his preceptor, who before the summer was
out, had taught him to shoot at flying game.
Mr. Whitman, while Walter Conly was boarding at his house, had engaged
him to help him, from hoeing time till after wheat harvest, and to his
great surprise, James, after a few days’ practice, did nearly as much as
Conly; after the first two days he kept up with them both, hoed as many
hills, and as well as they did. In mowing, he could not get along as
fast, but cut his grass _well_, but after he had pitched hay three days,
he could put more hay on the cart or the mow by one half, than Conly
could, and do his best.
The most importance was attached to the wheat harvest. There were no
reaping machines then; all was done with the sickle and cradle, and in
reaping, James distanced the whole of them, for in that work he was at
home.
Mr. Whitman and Conly were tying up some grain, beside a piece of
potatoes, when the schoolmaster observed,—
“I never in my life saw so handsome a piece of potatoes as that.”
“Those are not my potatoes. I have none half as good as them.”
“Whose are they?”
“They belong to James. I told him he might have all he could raise on
that piece of ground. He had my father for counsellor, both in respect
to the quantity of dressing, and the method of planting, and by the
looks, I think he could not have had a better one. In that respect James
is different from any boy I ever saw; he has not a particle of conceit
about him; is always willing to take advice, and generally asks it.”
“There is not much danger of your redemptioner’s leaving you, at least
not till after the potatoes are dug, and they are never known to leave
in the fall, as then they begin to think of winter quarters.”
“I took the boy, not to benefit myself, but to help him, and I am
willing he should go when he can do better; but I know very well that he
is better with me than he can be away from me, and therefore I try to
make him contented and happy. I gave him the use of this land because I
have noticed that since he has obtained some notion of time, knows how
many days there are in a month, and how many months in a year, that he
will sometimes say: ‘A year is a good while,’ and perhaps when he
remembers that he has agreed to stay here four years, it seems to him
like being bound for a life-time. But now when he has a crop in the
ground to take up his attention all summer, the proceeds in the fall, to
put in his chest, and look at in the winter, and another crop to look
forward to in the spring, it will shorten time up wonderfully. He’ll
forget all about being a redemptioner; won’t feel that he is working
just to pay up old scores, and he’ll be more contented. I know I should;
besides it will teach him to lay up, and put life right into him.”
“I think it has put life into him, for he works just as though he was
working on a wager all the time.”