When Parson Weaver left Mr. Bright's house he went directly home.
"Dodd" was there before him, and when the elder arrived he found the
boy and his mother together, both apparently indignant and excited.
"To think that he should have struck you over the head with a stick,"
exclaimed Mrs. Weaver, "and then should have the face to come here and
trump up a story about your running away! I always did more than half
suspect that man of lying, and I have found him out now!"
"Why, what is this?" inquired the parson, with a puzzled look.
"Mr. Bright has been striking 'Dodd' over the head with a stick,"
explained Mrs. Weaver; "just see where he hit him!" She pushed the
hair back off her son's forehead as she spoke, and revealed a long red
streak, made, apparently, by a blow from some solid substance.
Elder Weaver was dumbfounded. "Tell me all about this affair," he
demanded of "Dodd," as he led the way to another room, leaving Mrs.
Weaver to go on with her housework.
"All there is of it," answered "Dodd," "Old Bright gave me some of his
lip because I couldn't do an example, and when I tried to explain he
got mad and hit me over the head with a club, and so I got up and left."
"Is that the actual truth of the matter?" asked the elder, anxiously.
"You don't think I'd lie about a thing like that, do you?" said "Dodd."
"You can see where he hit me," he proceeded, himself revealing the welt
on his forehead.
This mark was too much for the good parson. He might have doubted
"Dodd's" word, but there was no disputing the mark.
Now a welt raised by a teacher on the body of a child will drive that
child's parents to madness quicker than anything that I know of. The
elder grew very angry, and resolved to see the end of this as soon as
possible. Calling a younger member of the household to him he
whispered in his ear:
"Run up to Prof. Bright's as fast as you can, and tell him to come down
here as quick as possible." He would bring "Dodd" and his teacher face
to face, and then see.
It was this messenger that had brought the teacher to the parsonage on
the double-quick.
"Dodd" saw his little brother shoot out of the door, and he was in a
worse dilemma than ever. Whether to run, or to stay and face it out;
to lie some more, or to confess the lie he had already told; these were
the things he grew more and more anxious about every minute. But
presently he caught sight of his teacher hurrying down the street, and
almost before he knew it he said:
"It's all a lie I've been giving you, old man! Bright never hit me a
lick!"
"But the mark!" almost shrieked the parson.
"I done it myself," explained "Dodd," laconically, "to give you and the
old woman a stand off with!"
It was just as "Dodd" said this that Mr. Bright opened the door and
entered the room. "Dodd" was seated near one corner, and his father,
having just heard from the boy's own lips a full confession of his
wholesale lying, began raving like a maniac. He swung his arms wildly,
weeping and shouting as he strode about the room:
"My son! my son! Would to God that you had filled an early grave, or
that I had died for thee! O, my son! my son!" and uttering such
lamentations he continued to rave.
"Why, what is this?" exclaimed Mr. Bright, rather at a loss to know
just what to say or do.
"O professor," almost yelled the parson, "my boy has lied to me! lied
to me!! lied to me!!!" and again he paced the room and tore his hair.
Coming around again to where Mr. Bright stood, he went on: "He told me
that you struck him with a club, and showed me a mark on his head where
he said you had hit him, and then, when I sent for you, and he saw you
coming, he confessed that it was all a lie! a lie!! a lie!!! O, my
God, my boy! my lost, my ruined boy! A liar!" he shrieked again. "In
hell they shall lift up their eyes in torm--"
"Stop!" commanded Mr. Bright, confronting the almost lunatic parson;
"stop raving and sit down, and let us talk about this business like
sensible people," and he led Mr. Weaver to a chair as he spoke.
"Now 'Dodd,'" said Mr. Bright, speaking to the boy for the first time
since he had called him back in the school room, "tell me about this."
"Dodd" hesitated a minute, eyeing his teacher defiantly, and finally
grumbled:
"I have not got anything to tell."
At this the parson came very near going off into another paroxysm, but
a look from Mr. Bright checked him, and be sank back into his chair,
almost in collapse.
Then Mr. Bright spoke, directing all his attention to "Dodd."
"My boy," he said, "it is useless for either of us to go over what has
been said and done in the last hour or two. I need not tell, nor need
I ask you to tell, how thoroughly outrageous your conduct has been.
But I want to say this to you right here: I want you to steady yourself
right down as soon as you can and get to thinking reasonably about this
matter. There is only one thing that I am afraid of in this affair,
and that is that it will result in great loss to you, if you are not
careful. You have insulted your fellow students, you have defied the
reasonable authority of the school, and you have lied to your parents.
I don't care anything about what you have done to me, or said about
me--let that go; but I do care about the other things, and I am anxious
to have you make them right as soon as possible, before it is too late."
You know, good people, that when a bone is broken, the thing that needs
to be done is to set it as soon as possible; if it is left out of place
very long, it is ten times as hard to put it right again as it would
have been at first, and, even if set at last, it is apt to grow
together imperfectly, or perhaps make a crooked limb ever after. The
sooner a fault is redressed, the better for all parties to it.
"So now I have this to say to you," Mr. Bright went on:
"I don't want you to drop out of school on account of this occurrence.
This is what you are in danger of doing, and it is the very thing you
ought not to do. You have been doing well in your work for a good
while now, and you can't afford to let this affair break you off."
"Well, I guess it won't hurt anybody but myself, and that is my own
business," said "Dodd" sulkily.
Off, away off as yet. Drawn, but unwilling to come. Seeing, knowing
what he should do, but, ruled by some rebellious devil, persistently
turning away and doing the other thing. It is the way of perverse
human nature. Call it "total depravity," "original sin," "infirmity,"
"the natural man," I don't care what, only this--recognize the
condition and deal with it, when you come squarely up against it, so
that it will not ruin its victim.
"The very thing I am fearing," returned Mr. Bright. "In one sense it
is nobody's business but your own what becomes of you; in another
sense, it is the business of a great many. Young man, I tell you again
to get out of your present defiant mood as soon as you can. I know
that your life for the past few months has had more of genuine
enjoyment for you than you have experienced for years previous to this
time. I don't say this boastfully, I say it thankfully. And what I am
anxious for is to have you keep going in the same way. Just think it
over, and see what there is before you. On the one hand, a return to
your place in school, and with that a continuation of all that you have
so much cared for; on the other hand--but I leave that for you to think
out. There are two ways right here, and you must choose which one you
will take."
"Well, what have I got to do if I go back?" asked "Dodd," yielding ever
so little.
"You must apologize to the school for your conduct and pledge to your
fellow students your word of honor that hereafter you will behave like
a gentleman."
"Dodd" gave his head an angry toss and was about to speak when the
parson sprang to his feet, and, rushing across the room, shouted:
"He shall do it, or I will disown him, and he shall never enter my
house again, but shall be--"
"Sit down, sir!" exclaimed Mr. Bright, almost forcing the distracted
parson into his chair. Mr. Weaver sat down and was silent.
Mr. Bright proceeded:
"So now, my boy, here it is for you to choose, and you must use your
own judgment about it." But "Dodd" looked down and said nothing.
It was a critical moment. A soul was at stake, and fiends and angels
were striving together for it. Mr. Bright was the captain of the
heavenly host, and devoutly he stood, waiting the issue.
There are no rules laid down in the machine guide books that lead up to
this high estate, nor does the machine manager care so much for
marshaling angelic forces as he does about controlling the election of
a member of the board from the --th ward.
As Mr. Bright spoke his last words a silence fell upon the group. The
father sat with his hands over his face, "Dodd" gazed at the carpet,
and the school teacher bowed his head reverently. For nearly a minute
this impressive calm brooded over all. Then Mr. Bright felt in his
soul that the tide was turned in his favor. He advanced towards "Dodd"
and extended his hand.
"Come!" he said.
The boy did not raise his eyes, but he did lift his hand, just a
little--only a little--and Mr. Bright grasped it with all the fervor of
his thankful soul. He drew "Dodd" towards him, and he arose,
hesitatingly. They walked out of the room hand in hand, nor did they
break their clasp till they reached the school-room. When people are
too weak or too timid to go alone they musk be led; yes, sometimes they
must be carried! But, led or carried, the point always to keep in mind
is this, that the nearly dead are to be made alive again, the lost are
to be found.
And this is the test that must be set over against all systems and
institutions that have to deal with unformed characters. The
everlasting question must be put again and again, does this, that or
the other save, find, restore, or benefit the individuals that come
under its influence? Whatever does this, is good; whatever fails to do
this is not good. It is fair to ask what the machine does in this
regard!