A COLD BATH.
"Well, Jim," I said, as I returned home in the fast-gathering twilight,
with my escort trotting beside me, "how are you getting on now at
school? I have not heard lately."
"I'm havin' an awful hard time just now, Miss Amy," he answered, coming
nearer,--"an awful hard time."
"How is that?" I asked. "Are they pressing you too much? Have they
given you too many lessons, or are those you had before becoming
harder?"
"Neither, miss," he answered. "'Tain't the lessons; I don't mind them.
Lessons ain't nothin'--I mean lessons ain't anything"--Jim was growing
more choice in language, and taking infinite pains with his parts of
speech--"when a feller has such good help as Miss Milly or Mr. Edward.
If they're too hard for me, one of 'em always helps me an' makes 'em
plain, an' I keep along good enough in the classes. But it's the
keepin' cool, an' not flyin' out when I get provoked, 'specially with
that Theodore Yorke. Miss Amy, you never saw the like of him. He's just
the meanest chap ever breathed; and the way he finds out things you
don't want him to know, an' keeps bringin' 'em up an' naggin' about
'em, is the worst."
"All the more credit to you, then, Jim, if you keep your temper under
such provocation," I answered soothingly, "and you show yourself by far
the better man of the two. You know the Bible says, 'Greater is he that
ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city.'"
"Well, Miss Amy," he said, "I guess it ain't no such rememberin' nor
Bible texes that keeps me cool. It's lots of other things. First, I do
want awful bad to do credit to Miss Milly; then I don't want to fight
Theodore, nor have a real sharp fallin' out, on account of the captain
an' Mrs. Yorke; then I'm thinkin', if I don't learn to hold my temper
now, how will it be if I come to be President of these States? I s'pose
there's lots of things that'll be provokin', an' hard to stand, when
you're President; and if Congress don't want to mind you right spang
off when you tell 'em to do a thing, an' goes to foolin' round about
it, I s'pose it don't do to be flyin' out, 'cause then folks would
think you wasn't fit to be President. Besides, when one's mad he can't
think about the best way to do things, an' I might make foolish laws
they wouldn't like. But most of all it will be a great deal better way
to get even with Theodore if I come out first with Mr.----"
Here he suddenly checked himself, and even in the dim twilight I could
see the color mounting to the roots of his carroty hair. He had
evidently been on the verge of some disclosure which he would have
regretted, and no questions succeeded in drawing forth any thing
further from him.
He had been sufficiently candid, however, in admitting that he was not
influenced, in the struggle with himself, by any abstract notions of
right and wrong, or by any special desire to please a higher power. But
that he had some motive still undeclared, and of greater weight with
him than any of those he had mentioned, I was convinced; and why should
he wish to keep it back?
However, my cogitations on the subject, and Jim's confidences, were now
cut short by the appearance at the corner, of another escort, who took
charge of me at once with a very decided remonstrance against my
remaining out till this hour "with only the protection of that boy."
This was a slight which would have wounded Jim to the quick had he
heard it, which he fortunately did not, as it was spoken in an
undertone; and he was evidently pleased to be freed from an attendance
which had become embarrassing to him by his own indiscretion.
"What do you suppose he could have meant?" I asked of Milly that night,
after I had rehearsed to her, in the privacy of our own room, my
conversation with Jim.
"I am sure I do not know," said my sister. "If it were possible, I
should think he meant uncle Rutherford's prize; but as he does not and
can not know of that, of course it cannot be. And while we must all
wish that he were acting from a higher motive than any of these, still
it is a great point gained, that he is so learning to control himself;
the habit will be formed, and he will learn to be his own master. But I
fear that Theodore Yorke is not a truthful or upright boy. Even our own
boys, who see so little of him, call him a sneak; and although he has a
bold, self-assertive manner, it has none of Jim's frankness. Oh, uncle
Rutherford, I wish that you could have seen things differently!"
But as uncle Rutherford had not only seen things in his own light, but
had acted thereon, there was nothing for us to do beyond giving Jim
what help we could. There was little, however, a lady could do to help
a boy in a public school in his struggle with adverse circumstances,
save by advice and encouragement; and Milly did not fail him in these.
Taking a hint from what I had seen of Jim's influence over Matty, I now
based my plans for her benefit and regeneration upon that, in addition
to the play upon her vanity by means of that wonderful and much-prized
hair. Jim, too, I knew would paint me and all my doings in glowing
colors, making much of any little kindness I might do for her.
The blue dress and other decent clothes were kept at kind Mrs.
Petersen's "for fear of the drink," and Matty donned them there when
she found occasion to wear them; and this led me to carry out the idea
of rescuing the children, Matty and Tony, entirely from the intemperate
wretches who dishonored the names of father and mother, and placing
them under the care of Mrs. Petersen. So long as the two little
cripples brought home such portion of their weekly earnings as Jim had
agreed should be allowed to Blair and his wife, the latter cared little
where or how the neglected children spent their time, especially as
they were now provided with their dinner as a part of the price of
their services at the peanut-stand.
The disapprobation in Milly's manner, which I had noticed and wondered
at, when my new enterprise was under consideration, had altogether
vanished after that first afternoon; and she had not only helped with
all her might in the making of the blue dress, but she had ever since
been interested and full of thoughtful suggestion.
"Milly," I said to her one day soon after, "why did you seem so
unwilling to have me undertake to care for that little cripple? You
surely had formed a precedent for such things in our family. I never
could understand your objections; for, that you had objections, I could
not help seeing."
Milly laughed.
"I find that such objections as I entertained were not well founded,"
she answered.
"Perhaps so, but that does not tell me what they were," I insisted.
"Well," she said, "I was a little afraid that Jim might feel that you
were trespassing on his preserves; and your field for charity is so
large, and his so small, that I did not wish him to imagine that he was
interfered with."
"Well, that is disposed of, for he is delighted with my co-operation,"
I said. "Now, what else was it?"
Milly was reluctant to say; but I persisted, and at last she
answered,--
"I feared that it was only--that you would soon tire of it, Amy, and
that the experiment would then prove good neither for you nor for
Matty; but in that too I hope I was wrong."
After events left no room to prove whether or no I should have been
long steadfast to my purpose of caring for poor Matty; that was taken
out of my hands.
Jim's report from school had been one of unbroken credit for weeks
now,--in conduct, that is; and to those who knew the boy's fiery,
impulsive, and, until he fell under Milly's care, untrained, nature,
the record was a remarkable one. In his classes, he was doing fairly
well, and making progress of which he had no need to be ashamed, but
his lessons were by no means always perfect; and, happily, it was not
so much to them that we looked, as the chief means for his gaining
uncle Rutherford's prize, for Theodore's standing in this respect was
generally a better one than his own.
I had noticed, and Milly at length came to do so, that if the record
was an unusually good one, and he received an extra amount of praise,
he still always appeared sheepish and ill at ease, and as though he had
something on his mind which he was half-inclined to make known. But he
never came to the point of doing so, and Milly had ceased to ask him.
We were kept pretty well informed, too, of the progress and standing of
Theodore Yorke; partly by uncle Rutherford's interest in the matter and
the inquiries he made of the teachers every week, and also by the
captain's pride in his grandson, whom he considered a prodigy of
learning. The boy was certainly bright and clever, as was Jim; and the
two kept fairly even in their record, both for lessons and conduct.
But while Jim continued to grow in popularity with both teachers and
scholars, it was not so with Theodore, and there was a strong prejudice
against him, especially among the boys. There seemed to be no
particular cause of offence or instance of wrong-doing to be brought
against him, but there it was; and neither masters nor schoolmates
seemed to place any confidence in him.
As far as trade went, Jim was certainly making a good thing out of the
school; for, owing to his persuasions, to say nothing of that leaning
toward peanuts which is a marked feature of every boyish mind, the
calls at Matty's stand on the way to and from the school were very
frequent; and while pennies and nickels flowed in upon the small
vender, peanut-shells were scattered all over the building and
playground, until at last they called forth a remonstrance from the
janitor. Finding this of no avail, he threatened an appeal to the
higher authorities; but, as he was a good-natured old soul, he
hesitated to draw reproof upon the boys, when about this time an
incident occurred which made complaint unnecessary, as peanuts became
prohibited altogether within school bounds.
"Jim," said a boy, coming to him one morning before the school-bell
rang, "do you see the lot of peanuts Theodore Yorke has?"
"I don't pay much heed to Theodore Yorke or his havin's," answered Jim
scornfully. "It's no odds to me if he has bushels of peanuts or nary a
one."
"But maybe it is odds to you," answered the other boy. "I ain't a
telltale; but Theodore Yorke's always buyin' peanuts off of your stand,
an' you can bet he comes away from that stand with a lot more peanuts
for two cents or five cents than any one of the rest of us does."
Jim turned sharply upon him.
"You don't mean Matty gives him over measure, Rob?" he said.
"She don't _give_ him over measure, but he gets over measure," replied
Rob; "an' I tell you 'cause I think it's a shame to be cheatin' you an'
the girl."
"What is it, then? Out with it!" exclaimed Jim. "I can see how she can
cheat him givin' him short measure if she likes, but I can't see how he
can cheat her gettin' _over_ measure."
"S'pose when she's measurin' out what he's asked for, he puts his hand
into the big basket on her other side, maybe more than once, too;
how'll that do for helping himself to long measure, hey?" said Robert.
"How do you know?" asked Jim, trying to control his rising fury until
he had all the facts.
"I've seen him do it more than once, an' more than twice," replied Rob.
"You know we live in the same house, and mostly come on to school
together, an' both him an' me is apt to stop for peanuts. And the first
time I saw him do that, taking out a handful extra for himself, was one
morning when I hadn't any money to buy; but he stopped in, and I staid
out, 'cause it was too kind of tantalizing to go in and smell 'em all
freshly roasted, and not get any; and I was looking in between the
posies and plants in the shop, and when Matty was filling up her
measure for him--only the two-center one--I saw him do that mean trick;
on a girl, too, and she a hunchback! He slipped his hand into the
basket, and carried it full to his dinner-basket. So after that I
watched, whether I went in or staid out; and he never lets a time go by
that he don't hook a handful, maybe two, if he gets the chance. You
see, that girl's got such a lot of thick hair hanging round her, it's
most like a thick veil, and would keep her from seeing what goes on
behind or by the side of her. I tell you, Jim, I guess with one time
and another he must have bagged two or three quarts of peanuts off of
you and the hunchback, and I couldn't let it go on any longer. This
very morning he bought two cents worth, and hooked as much as five."
Jim's indignation had grown higher and fiercer with every succeeding
word of this story; and, unfortunately, at this moment Theodore came
around a corner of the school-building upon the playground, and, as a
combination of ill luck would have it, he was eating peanuts, which he
extracted from a pocket whose bulging proportions showed that the stock
from which he was drawing was a large one.
The sight inflamed Jim's passion beyond all bounds; and he immediately
advanced upon Theodore in a manner and with a look which left no doubt
as to his purpose. The culprit dodged the first blow aimed at him; but
in another instant Jim's hand was upon his collar, while, with language
which was neither choice nor mild, he struck him several times, and
would have continued the blows had he not in his turn been seized upon
by one of the masters, who had seen the whole thing, to whom it
appeared to be the most unprovoked attack.
Jim's fury had so passed beyond restraint, that for a moment neither
the sight of the teacher nor his stern voice calling him to order had
the effect of bringing him to his senses; and he even turned upon the
gentleman himself, probably believing for the moment that it was one of
the other boys. His crestfallen, mortified look when he was recalled to
himself did not help him in the estimation of the teacher, who took it
as a sign of guilt; while Theodore, once freed from his assailant,
stood by as the martyr and peaceable boy who would not strike a blow,
even in self-defence. Rob, meanwhile, frightened by the consequences of
his disclosures to Jim, slunk off without waiting to bear testimony to
the provocation which Jim believed himself to have received.
Jim was "reported," of course, and punished; and the knowledge that
this must come to the ears of Miss Milly and Mr. Rutherford did not
tend to soothe his anger, nor did he feel that his desire for vengeance
was yet satisfied. As he had been deprived of his recess, however, he
had no immediate opportunity of gratifying it; and when school was
over, the principal, who was a just though strict man, and who was
particularly interested in uncle Rutherford's scheme and the two rivals
for his prize, called both Jim and Theodore before him, and inquired
into the cause of the disturbance.
Now, Theodore was perfectly well aware of this, for Jim had not failed
to make use of his tongue as well as his fists, and he knew that in
some way his petty and oft-repeated thefts had come to light; but he
was not going to confess his own iniquities, and Jim was what Rob
Stevens, with less reason, had asserted himself to be,--"no telltale."
He rather sulkily replied, to the questions of the principal, that
"Theodore knew, and could tell if he liked;" but Theodore doggedly
declared that he had given and knew of no cause of offence, and that
the attack had been entirely without reason.
As Jim could not be persuaded to bring any accusation other than the
scornful, ferocious looks with which he regarded Theodore; while
Theodore himself was evidently uneasy and fearful lest his antagonist
should speak the truth,--Mr. Rollins was convinced that the latter was
really, in some way, to blame. But of course he could not punish him
without reason; while Jim had been caught red-handed, and must, at
least, be reprimanded and warned. The gentleman told him that he
forfeited his recess for a week, and that, if he trespassed again in
this manner, he would be degraded to a lower class.
Jim received his sentence in silence; but when Mr. Rollins spoke of the
penalty to follow future offending, his ruddy face blanched. _That_
meant not only disgrace in the school, but, what was far worse to him,
before Miss Milly and Mr. Rutherford, and the lessening of his "chance"
with the latter, and Theodore's preferment above him.
As the boys were dismissed from the tribunal of justice, and turned
away, Mr. Rollins caught a glance of gratified malice which Theodore
cast at the other boy; and he was more than ever persuaded that there
was something behind all this, and that Theodore was, perhaps, the one
who was the most to blame.
They had reached the door, when Jim turned, and, coming back to the
desk of the principal, said in a low tone, "Thank you, sir, for not
puttin' any thing more on me than the recess. I don't mind that so
much, an' I'll try hard not to break rules again; but _you_ can't tell
how hard it is not to get mad when the mad lies so near the top, an'
you're gettin'"--"cheated" would have been the next word, but Jim
checked himself ere it was spoken.
"Do I not, my boy?" answered the gentleman: then seeing that Theodore
was lingering at the door as if anxious to hear what passed, he said to
him, with something of sternness in his voice, born of the doubt as to
which of the two boys was the greater culprit, "Go on, sir, you have no
need to wait;" adding to himself, "That boy has a guilty conscience."
Then, when Theodore had closed the door behind him, he turned again to
Jim, and continued, "You are mistaken, Jim, if you think I do not know
what it is to struggle with a quick temper."
"You, sir?" said Jim.
"Yes, I," answered Mr. Rollins; and then he followed with the story of
his own struggles with a passionate temper, and the final victory over
himself, with much good advice and encouragement to Jim. Encouraged the
boy certainly did feel, as he left the presence of the master,
fortified with new resolutions for the future.
But master Theodore was not to escape without his share of punishment.
As his own ill luck would have it,--perhaps it would be better to say,
as a righteous retribution would have it,--as he was on his way home
from school, and was crossing the park on which our house fronted, he
fell in with three or four of his classmates, among them Rob Stevens,
the witness of his thefts.
"What have you done with Jim?" asked one of the boys.
"He's getting it from the commander-in-chief," said Theodore
exultantly. "He's lost his recess for a week, and is to be put down to
class four if he gets into another of his rages, as he's sure to do;
and now he's taking no end of a blowing-up. The commander sent me out
so I wouldn't hear it. Good enough for him. I hope he'll get it hot and
heavy."
"What did _you_ get?" asked Rob.
"What did I get? Nothing; why should I?" responded Theodore, who had
not the slightest idea of the way by which Jim had learned of his
thefts, or that here was his accuser.
"Didn't you tell why Jim pitched into you when you saw he was gettin'
held up for it?" asked Rob.
"No!" roared Theodore, partly in fear, partly in anger, for he now
could not fail to see that Rob knew _something_, but how much he could
not tell. "I hadn't any thing to tell, and hadn't done any thing to
Jim,--to his high-mightiness Jim Grant Garfield Rutherford Livingstone
Washington, the fellow with a whole dictionary-full of names, and not a
right to one of them but the Jim. I just wish he would get into a dozen
tantrums, till he gets expelled from the school."
"Nothin' mean about you, is there?" said one of the other boys
indignantly, although he was still ignorant of the cause of Jim's
provocation.
But this was too much for Rob.
The boys had neared the fountain in the centre of the park. At this
season, it was never or seldom playing; but some repairs had been found
necessary, and the workmen had had the jet in action for some hours,
and the large basin around it was full of water. The boys stopped
beside it, not noticing a tall figure which sat upon one of the park
benches near.
"Nothing mean about _him_!" repeated Rob in a loud voice, which might
easily be heard on the other side of the fountain, "nothing mean about
Theodore Yorke! He's the meanest sneak in our school, or out of it,
either! I'll tell you why Jim pitched into him. He's been stealing
peanuts off of Jim's stand when the little hunchback's head was turned.
I saw him, more than once, and I wasn't going to have it any longer; so
I told Jim, and I'd just told him of it when Theodore came on eating
peanuts, the very ones, for all I know, that I saw him steal this
morning; and no wonder Jim's spirit was up, and he pitched into him. I
wish he'd had it out with him, too, before Mr. Leeds came up. If he was
going to be punished, he might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.
And Jim's never said a word, I s'pose, or let on what he did it for;
and you let him take all the blame. Bah! I wouldn't be you, for a
cart-load of peanuts!"
"You didn't see me, either. I don't know what you're talking about!"
stammered Theodore, so taken aback by the damaging testimony of this
unexpected witness of his sin, that he lost all self-possession, and
his looks proclaimed him guilty of the offence with which he was
charged.
Uprose from the bench beyond the group the figure sitting there, and,
striding towards the still unobservant boys, laid one hand upon
Theodore's collar, the other on that of Rob; and the startled Theodore
looked up into the stern, set face of his grandfather.
"Have I heerd aright?" said the old man in his righteous wrath. "Have I
heerd my gran'son called a thief, an' a sneak, what let a boy like Jim
be blamed for doin' what he had a right to do, if what this 'ere feller
says is true?--Kin ye prove it?" turning to Rob, while he still kept a
tight hold on either boy.
"Yes, I can," said Rob, maintaining his ground, although he was a
little frightened by the captain's looks and tones; and once more he
rehearsed the story in all its details.
By this time several persons, attracted by the somewhat unusual
spectacle of an old man holding two boys by their collars, had stopped
to hear what was going on; and there were symptoms of a crowd. Seeing
this from afar, a policeman bore down upon the scene,--the very one who
had had the dispute with the captain as to the propriety of Daisy
playing peanut-vender on the street-corner.
As he came near, Captain Yorke released his hold upon Rob's collar;
then tightening that upon Theodore's, the still stalwart old seaman
lifted the boy from his feet, and, stepping close to the basin of the
fountain, plunged him over his head in the icy water. The day had been
a mild one, sunny and bright, for spring was in the air; but the water
was still sufficiently cold to make such a sudden plunge any thing but
pleasant, and this summary method of punishment, well deserved though
most of the spectators knew it to be, was not to be tolerated in such a
public place. So thought the policeman who now came running up, as the
captain, having given his grandson three good dips, lifted him dripping
and shivering from the basin, and placed him upon his feet.
[Illustration: "PLUNGED HIM OVER HIS HEAD IN THE ICY
WATER."--_Page_ 214.]
"What's this?" asked the officer, who had long since made his peace
with the old man, who was wont to hang about the park, and in the
vicinity of our house, and who amused him vastly with his comments upon
men and things in the city. "What are you up to now, captain?"
"Givin' this boy a duckin'; an' if I told ye what for, I donno but ye'd
be for takin' of him up," answered the captain, disregarding all
considerations of parental or family pride. "If ye fin' me a meaner one
nor he is in this big town, I'll duck him, too, an' keep him under till
he begs an' swears he'll mend his ways.--Now, git along home, sir," to
the shaking Theodore. "I'd willin' pay for two suits of clo's to have
the satisfaction of givin' ye yer desarvins, though I don't know as
ye've got 'em yet. Git!"
Theodore, only too glad to obey, sped away like the wind; while the
captain, as the policeman was about to interfere further, turned to the
officer, and, taking him by the arm, as if he were going to arrest
_him_, repeated in a friendly tone, "He's had no more than his
desarvin's,--young scamp; an' them's my opinions. I'll tell ye."
"But what are you about, ducking that boy in a public fountain?" asked
the officer, doubtful what course to pursue with the old original.
"Don't you know such a thing is a breach of the public peace?"
"I don't know nothin' about your breaches," said the old veteran, no
whit disturbed; "but I knows I got a right to duck that boy where'er
I've a min' to. He's my gran'son,--more shame to me,--an' a little
water ain't goin' to hurt him. His fam'ly's used to water,--good salt
water, too," with a contemptuous look at the fluid in the fountain
basin, "an' if I could wash the meanness outer him, I'd duck him a
dozen times a day. Come along."
And still with his hand upon the policeman's arm, the captain turned
away with him, soon satisfying the guardian of the peace that this was
no case for arrest. Barney agreed that he had the right to take the law
into his own hands, although this was hardly the place for him to do
so.
Of course Theodore's thefts, and the story of the grandfather's summary
punishment, went the rounds of the school the next morning, and it soon
reached the ears of the teachers and principal; and Theodore was called
up again before the latter, this time to receive a far sterner
reprimand than had been bestowed upon Jim. As the offence had been
committed out of school bounds and school hours, the punishment for it
did not lie within the jurisdiction of Mr. Rollins; but, in addition to
that which he had received from his grandfather, it was meted out to
him on the school premises. From that time he acquired the _sobriquet_
of "Peanuts,"--a name which, short as it was, attracted far more
derision and notice than that of Jim Grant Garfield Rutherford
Livingstone Washington.
And Jim, for his silence before the principal, his heroic determination
to "tell no tales," was more of a favorite than ever.
Whether this tended to lessen Theodore's animosity toward him, or to
soften the standing feud between them, may be judged.
The contempt and dislike which the school generally entertained for
Theodore were brought to their height, when the edict was promulgated
that peanuts should be no longer brought within bounds. Being a
forbidden fruit, they at once acquired a value and desirableness even
beyond that which they had possessed before. By some unexplained
process of reasoning, the authorities had arrived at the conclusion
that they were the cause of the late disturbance; and so they were
tabooed, much to the displeasure of the boys, who, beside the
deprivation to themselves, considered Jim a victim, as the order, of
necessity, in a measure lessened his sales.