THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 _0F CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
I 
 
 1 i 
 
 7) 
 
 KiutocoLuci. 
 
I 
 
 \ 
 
 i 
 

 
 

 U"uj 
 
FRANK NELSON; 
 
 OR, 
 
 ®]j« Miinafumj po{i. 
 
 f f 
 
 BY 
 MRS. P. A. HANAPORD, 
 
 ADTHOR or " THE TOUNO CAPTAIN," " OUB MARTYRED PRESIDENT, 
 " UFE oy ABRAHAM LINCOLN," ETC 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 WILLIAJM H. HILL, JR. & CO., 
 
 32 CORNIIILL, 
 1866. 
 
Entered A.>cordmg U> Act of Conffrees, in the year 1866, by 
 
 MRS. P. A. HANAFORD, 
 In the Clerk's Offlce of the District Court of Massachusetts. 
 
mt M'U Mmm. 
 
i^cni(ni». 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 The Impatient Boy, , 7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Inauguration Dav, 21 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 "Tnie Blue," 41 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Out on the Ocean, 61 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The Voyage, 76 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 •♦To Arms! ** 92 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 The New Home, HO 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Letters, 122 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 A Change, 136 
 
 602935 
 
VI. CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 On Board the Clio, .152 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 In the Dory, . 165 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 The Old Fort, 185 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 "High Hook," ... 198 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Ocean Scenes, 211 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 "True Blue" in the Army,. . . ... 212 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 The Dying Soldier, 235 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 "Buried Under Arras," 247 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 The Sister's Search 259 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 Home Again, 284 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 THE IMPATIENT BOY. 
 
 dlT:^^ 
 
 'HERE goes my shoe-string ! " 
 exclaimed Frank Nelson, in a 
 cross, impatient voice, and 
 with a scowl on his face that 
 looked rather unamiable, to 
 say the least ; " that's just the 
 way ! if a fellow wants to get 
 out in good season, some pesky thmg as this 
 happens. Hang it, I say ! " 
 
 " What ! scolding again, brother Frank ? " 
 said a mild voice, and light steps were heard 
 ascending the staircase. 
 
 " Come in here ! '* was the ungracious re- 
 
8 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 sponse, ill a tone more like that of a captain 
 on his quarter-deck to a mutinous crew, than 
 the voice in which a brother should speak to a 
 sister, especially to one so lovely and lovable 
 as Mary Nelson, and the senior of her brother, 
 too, by several years. 
 
 "I'm almost afraid to enter that den," was 
 the playful answer, " the lion roars so." 
 
 " You'll hear him roar louder still, old girl, 
 if you don't find me a shoe-string, and that in 
 double quick time, too." 
 
 " I'm not a Zouave, Frankie ; what should I 
 know of ' double quick,' and, do let me look in 
 your fragment of a mirror, — do you remem- 
 ber how a boy's boot, flung heedlessly against 
 it, in a paroxysm of impatience, broke it one 
 sunny Sabbath morning, a morning whose 
 brightness ought to have soothed all impatient 
 feelings," 
 
 " There, there, don't preach ! " interrupted 
 the wayward boy. " I tell you, old girl, I 
 want a shoe-string. Get one, right oflf." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 9 
 
 " Let me look in your mirror and see if I 
 do look like an old girl. Not so very, after 
 all ! " And the rosy lips smiled archly, as the 
 soiil-speaking eyes of heaven's own blue, saw 
 only a face which was singularly faultless in- 
 color and feature, and which would well have 
 answered for Longfellow's beautiful Evange- 
 line. 
 
 " Now stand there like a ninny ! I tell you 
 I want a shoe-string. Ill run away some- 
 time, if I can't have a little liberty at home. 
 Here I've been digging and delving all the 
 morning when I wanted to be off to see the 
 fun, and now, of course my shoe-string must 
 break." 
 
 Mary passed on to her own chamber. In a 
 moment she returned. " Here's a shoe-string," 
 said she, " and I'll help you put it in, if you'll 
 listen patiently to me a moment. I wish you 
 could learn to speak more pleasantly, and to 
 use fewer objectionable words and phrases. It 
 pains mother and me to hear you talk so ! " 
 
10 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 All this while Mary had been weaving in 
 and out of the eyelet-holes the desired shoe- 
 string, and Frank was listening to her words 
 with what grace he could muster. But he did 
 not look very penitent, and finally as she put 
 the string through the last eyelet and took 
 hold of both ends in order to tie the shoe 
 closely, still talking to him about his un- 
 gracious words and tones, he whistled impa- 
 tiently, and then spoke again : — 
 
 " But what must a fellow do, my chicken- 
 hearted sister? I can't whisper when I'm 
 aching to scream, and I can't stop to weigh 
 and select my words when I'm in a hurry to 
 let somebody know my mind, before you can 
 say Jack Robinson." 
 
 " But why be so desirous of yelling, since 
 you're not an Indian, or so much in haste 
 when you 've twenty-four hours in every day, 
 and not much with which to fill them ? " 
 
 "My twenty-four hours are too well filled 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 11 
 
 with work, and so, I say again, I'm going to 
 run away. I'm bound to do it. If you miss 
 me some day you'll know I'm following Rob- 
 inson Crusoe, or some other adventurer." 
 
 " Like him, I hope, to return again safely, 
 brother Frank." And the warm-hearted sis- 
 ter threw her arms around her brother and 
 kissed him. She did not believe he meant 
 what he said, but his words conjured up in her 
 mind such a picture of distresses and perils 
 he might encounter, if he should be wayward 
 and fool-hardy enough to fulfill what she 
 deemed an idle threat, that the tears came 
 into her eyes, and she earnestly whispered, 
 " Don't go, Frank, don't go ! " 
 
 Often, in after days did he remember those 
 words, and recall that scene. But he writhed 
 under it then, and the purpose, which he had 
 really formed, remained unshaken. Strug- 
 gling to get away from the embrace of his 
 gentle sister, he laughed mockingly, while his 
 
12 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 heart smote him for his laugh and words, and 
 said, "Don't waste your tears on such a 
 scrapegrace as I am. If you hold me any 
 longer I shall be late. You shall go with me, 
 if you want to, and be my Friday. But now I 
 must be off to see the Inauguration.'' 
 
 He snatched his cap, ran his fingers through 
 his hair, tossing it up off a broad, white fore- 
 head, and bounded out of his chamber, and 
 down the stairs, leaping several steps as he 
 neared the bottom of the flight. 
 
 His mother opened the parlor door as he 
 laid his hand on the knob of the front door. 
 '' Frank ! " said she, stop a minute ! " He 
 obeyed, but with evident reluctance. " Do be 
 careful, my son," she continued, " about the 
 company you keep to-day. There is much to 
 see, and to hear, but you will see with differ- 
 ent eyes and hear with different ears if you 
 are with good boys, than if you are with bad 
 ones. You cannot be too careful in choosing 
 your company." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 13 
 
 Frank had heard words like these many 
 times before, from the same faithful mother. 
 He did not dare reply with disrespect, but he 
 turned the knob impatiently, and looked an- 
 noyed. In a moment he said, " I don't want 
 to be in leading-strings always, mother." 
 
 An expression of pain flitted across the 
 mother's pale face. Her son saw it, and felt 
 sorry he had spoken thus. He added, in a 
 softened tone, " 1 '11 try to be good, mother. 
 But it 's time to go now ! " and so saying he 
 opened the door, and in a moment was flying 
 down the street with the speed natural to a 
 boy of fourteen. Every avenue and street 
 and even by-way, in that " City of magnifi- 
 cent distances " in which Frank resided, was 
 alive with people, hurrying to and fro, but 
 most of them tending towards the more public 
 thoroughfares, and pausing at last in some 
 street through which the inaugural procession 
 was to pass. The city, as the reader may 
 
14 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 easily conjecture, was Washington, the Capital 
 of the nation, and the Inauguration, they may 
 as well be told at once, was that of Abraham 
 Lincoln, the sixteenth President of the United 
 States. 
 
 Washington is a fine city, in some respects. 
 It has many wide and beautiful streets and 
 avenues, and is laid out on a somewhat grand- 
 er scale than some of our more northen cities 
 with their crowded houses and narrow crooked 
 streets. Many elegant public edifices adorn 
 the city, and some of the private mansions are 
 built in a style of palatial magnificence. 
 Among the public buildings are, first of all, 
 the Capitol, in which the Congress of the 
 United States always meets, a superb edifice, 
 familiar in its appearance like the State House 
 in Boston to the minds of the New England 
 boys and girls, because of the many pictures 
 which are published of it. Then there is the 
 large and beautiful building where the Presi- 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 15 
 
 dent resides, and which is called the " White 
 House." The Treasury Buildings, and the 
 Patent Office attract the attention of visitors, 
 and at the time Frank ran down the street, 
 the Smithsonian Institute was another noble 
 structure awakening admiration in the behold- 
 er. Since that day it has been disfigured and 
 partially destroyed by the ravages of that 
 " good servant but bad master " — Fire. 
 
 The city of Washington is finely located on 
 the left bank of the Potomac river, on its 
 north-east side, and between two small tribu- 
 taries — the one on the east called the East 
 Branch, the western one called Rock Creek. 
 The latter stream separates it from George- 
 town. Both these places — Washington and 
 Georgetown — are situated within the limits 
 of the District of Columbia, which has an 
 area of about sixty miles, and a population of 
 some fifty-two thousand. 
 
 The Constitution of the United States pro- 
 
16 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 vides that the Federal Government shall have 
 exclusive jurisdiction over a territory ten 
 miles square, and that in it shall be located 
 the capital of the country. So the city in 
 which Frank lived, was not under the control 
 of any State oflficers like Boston, New York 
 and other cities of the Union, though like all 
 those cities it had a Mayor and other usual 
 city officers. But the Congress of the United 
 States, with the President at their head, exer- 
 cised particular authority over Washington 
 and Georgetown, and all the District of 
 Columbia. 
 
 Frank was not born in ^Washington. He 
 was a New England boy, born amid the moun- 
 tains of the old Granite State, but he was 
 early taken to the South, and had but dim and 
 vague recollections of his Northern bkth-place. 
 His father had been unsuccessful in business, 
 and, when Frank was about eight years old, 
 that father died, leaving his wife and little 
 ones almost penniless. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 17 
 
 Mrs. Nelson was a woman of great energy 
 of character, but was in feeble health. She 
 succeeded, however, in keeping her home, 
 obtaining the means of a livelihood by taking 
 boarders, as a great many persons do in the 
 city of Washington, especially during the 
 winter season, and throughout tlic Congres- 
 sional sessions, for then the city is likely to be 
 thronged with company. Mrs. Nelson suc- 
 ceeded in obtaining the means of education 
 for Frank, while his sister, who was some 
 years older, and who had acquired a fair 
 share of the lore obtained in books before her 
 father's death, and who possessed decided 
 musical powers, was engaged in teaching 
 music, and thus assisted her mother. 
 
 Although Mrs. Nelson kept a limited num- 
 ber of servants, all colored, yet she was often 
 obliged to call upon her son to aid her in 
 various ways. She had tried to instil into his 
 mind an idea of the dignity of labor, which 
 
18 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 in a New England atmosphere might have 
 "grown with his growth and strengthened 
 with his strength," but there, nnder the 
 blighting influence of opinions engendered by- 
 slavery, he had come to believe it ignoble to 
 toil, especially in any of those ways in which 
 he was wont to assist his mother. Certain 
 companions, too, who had gathered about him, 
 failed not to influence his feelings and opinions, 
 and in his case it was found, as alas ! too 
 many a parent sadly learns — that " evil com- 
 munications corrupt good manners." His 
 speech had become abrupt and harsh, his con- 
 versation interlarded with words which were 
 not the most classic or elegant, and, in short, 
 he seemed to be fast changing from the little 
 boy in whom his father took such pride, and 
 for whom he so earnestly prayed that his feet 
 might be kept from the snares of evil, to the 
 rough, ill-mannered youth who was more 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. . 19 
 
 afraid of being " tied to his mother's apron 
 strings " than of straying into paths of error 
 and wickedness. 
 
 Having thus explained " the whys and 
 wherefores " of Frankie's residence in Wash- 
 ington, and the influences around him, we can 
 now proceed with the story of Frank's adven- 
 tures on that memorable day, and on others 
 equally memorable to him as an individual, 
 though not so important to thejaation. 
 
 All this while that I have been speaking of 
 Frank's home and family, he may be supposed 
 to have been running down the street, in the 
 expectation of meeting his comrades, at their 
 usual rendezvous, under the sheltering veran- 
 dah or piazza of a well-known restaurant. 
 Boys love to congregate in such places, and 
 laugh and chat or play with one another. 
 Several boys were there, but not Frank's 
 " chums " as he called them. So he stood 
 
20 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 whistling and waiting. Suddenly he heard a 
 shout. Every boy looked and then ran. 
 Frank's heels, too, clattered upon the pave- 
 ment. 
 
CHAPTER n. 
 
 INAUGURATION DAY. 
 
 ^HE shout proceeded from a 
 group of boys who issued out 
 of a side street, and desired to 
 attract the attention of their 
 playmates who were on the 
 piazza. One of them carried 
 a flag — the " dear old flag," 
 with its stripes and stars gleaming in the 
 morning sunshine. There was an answering 
 " Hurrah ! " from the boys who came to meet 
 them, and then they all arranged themselves 
 in marching order, and proceeded with jubi- 
 
 21 
 
22 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 lant faces, occasional shouts, and measured 
 steps toward the vicinity of the Capitol. 
 "Young America" was desirous of doing its 
 part in the observance of the day, and the 
 Nineteenth Century cannot spare its juveniles. 
 On they went till they came to the street 
 where various processions were forming, and 
 there they drew up in line, and waited, hoping 
 for recognition, and a place in the long pro- 
 cession. 
 
 " Oscar," whispered Frank to a boy near 
 him, " I don't like all this." 
 
 "Nor I either," was the response most 
 heartily given, with a defiant nod of the head. 
 " I want to see more fun. If we stay in this 
 company we can't see anything, at least, only 
 just what's round us. I want to see the 
 whole." 
 
 " So do I," said Frank. 
 
 " Let's clear out ! " said Oscar. 
 
 " How can we get off ? " asked Frank, with 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 23 
 
 a look at the burly form of the boy who was 
 acting leader of this juvenile band. 
 
 " I'll do it," answered Oscar ; so saying, he 
 went boldly up to the selfniommissioned cap- 
 tain. Oscar touched his cap to the leader, 
 and his intended military salute was appar- 
 ently well received. " Frank and I have some 
 business to attend to, and must go away for a 
 few moments. Will you keep our places for 
 us, so that when we get back, we can stand as 
 near the front as we do now ? '* 
 
 " Yes," answered the captain, " but don't 
 be gone more'n a month." 
 
 " No ! " shouted Oscar, and rushing back to 
 Frank, he seized him by the arm, and bore 
 him triumphantly away, notwithstanding the 
 remonstrances of some of the boys who called 
 Ihem " mean " for " backing out." 
 
 "Oh, you look out for us back again," said 
 Oscar. " The Captain has just promised me 
 wo shall have the same places." 
 
24 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 " All right ! " said the remonstrants, appar- 
 ently satisfied. 
 
 " Didn't I do it well ? " was Oscar's excla- 
 mation, when Frank and he had got far 
 enough off to talk freely. " I made the Cap- 
 tain, and the other boys too, think we were 
 coming back. I came it over them just as 
 easy ! " and Oscar laughed complacently. 
 
 Frank thought of his mother's warning 
 words, and felt that he had not obeyed her in 
 choosing Oscar for a companion. Involunta- 
 rily he spoke, " I hope you didn't tell a lie.'* 
 
 " Only a white one, Nelson. Don't be such 
 a coward that you can't make out a good story 
 when it suits you. Who wants to weigh every 
 word?" 
 
 " But I don't mean to go back to the pro 
 cession again to day. That is, I don't mean 
 to join it with the boys." 
 
 "'Well, I told the Captain we wouldn't bo 
 gone more than a month, and I asked him to 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 25 
 
 keep our places for us. I meant for him to 
 thiiik we were coming back so he needn't 
 make a rumpus about it. But it's no use 
 talking about the matter. If we don't go 
 back I'll hatch up some kind of an excuse. 
 Come along, and don't look so much like a 
 criminal going to be hung ! " 
 
 Frank said no more about it, but his heart 
 misgave him. He felt that he had not com- 
 menced the day aright, and that he was al- 
 ready in the way of evil doers. Oscar was a 
 boy of positive opinions, and like all such per- 
 sons, young or old, invariably wielded an in- 
 fluence over his companions, which according to 
 his changeful mood, for he was chameleon-liko 
 and very different at different times, was good 
 or evil. Fertile in expedients he rarely " got 
 into a scrape," as he called his misdeeds, but 
 that he got out of it somehow, though, alas ! 
 not unfrequently by a complete or partial 
 sacrifice of the truth. Frank was clear-sight- 
 
26 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 ed enough to perceive this great failing of his 
 companion, but something in his own heart 
 responded at times to that very propensity 
 which belonged to Oscar's nature, or had been 
 habitual so long as to become " second nature," 
 and he was often completely under Oscar's in- 
 fluence with neither the power nor will to 
 resist. 
 
 It was Oscar who had sedulously sought to 
 induce Frank to leave his home, and seek new 
 and strange adventures. His own wish to go 
 arose from a sheer love of novelty and change. 
 He would have been a knight errant in the 
 days of yore, and the stories of Robinson 
 Crusoe and Sinbad the Sailor, with such books 
 as " Cook's Voyages," and the like, awoke in 
 him an irresistible desire to travel far and 
 wide, amid the new and untried scenes of 
 foreign life. 
 
 He had nearly imbued Frank with the same 
 spirit, but soon found that the most powerful 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 27 
 
 motive to be urged on liis young companion 
 — younger than himself by three years — was 
 the freedom from all drudgery, and the oppor- 
 tunity to earn enough to place his mother and 
 sister in a position of comparative indepen- 
 dence. Oscar wished to be a sailor, but his 
 comrade shrank from the dangers to be en- 
 countered in a storm at sea, or from a leaky 
 vessel. They were therefore only agreed as to 
 the desirableness of running away. Neither 
 had any reasonable hope of being ^permitted 
 to go willingly, and rather than have any 
 delay, both had decided that it was best to 
 make the attempt to depart and seek fortune, 
 secretly. 
 
 But on the day of which we write, their 
 minds were absorbed, like those of many older 
 persons, in the ceremonies incident to the 
 inauguration of one who was to govern a 
 mighty nation. The streets, as we have said, 
 were filled with the populace, most of the 
 
28 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 people, especially the women, in their holiday 
 attire. Wooly headed boys and girls were to 
 be seen in all directions, especially in the 
 vicinity of large, aristocratic looking mansions 
 in which an army of servants was maintained. 
 The ceremonies of this inauguration have 
 been said to be the most brilliant and imposing 
 ever witnessed in Washington. 
 
 The not loud but deep muttered tlireats of 
 the disaffected Southerners, together with the 
 frequently 'given assurance that " Abe Lin- 
 coln " should never be President of .the Re- 
 public, led the authorities at Washington to 
 place the city more under martial protection 
 than usual. Nearly twenty well-drilled com- 
 panies, belonging to the District. of Columbia 
 were on parade. They comprised a force of 
 more than two thousand men, and with their 
 elegant uniforms, showy brass bands, superbly 
 dressed officers on horseback, and the long 
 rows of gleaming bayonets, presented an ap- 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 29 
 
 pearance of martial splendor which attracted 
 the attention of Frank and Oscar, as well as 
 the eyes of many children of a larger growth." 
 
 "That's a Georgetown company!" ex- 
 claimed Oscar. "I saw them drilling the 
 other day when I was there. Just listen to 
 that music. It is soul stirring!" Frank as- 
 sented, though he had less predilection for 
 military display than Oscar. " Let's go up on 
 those steps, and see them pass ! " added Oscar, 
 and pushing their way through a crowd of 
 men and women on the sidewalk, they suc- 
 ceeded, by much scrambling, such as boys 
 imderstand, in reaching the top of a high 
 flight of steps, in front of a large stone 
 mansion. From this elevated position they 
 watched the companies which rapidly suc- 
 ceeded each other, passing to their places in 
 the procession. 
 
 There were fine companies of cavalry, each 
 man riding a powerful horse, whose noble 
 
30 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 appearance spoke of the battlefield, and re- 
 minded one of the Scripture mention of the 
 war-horse who sayeth, " Aha ! aha ! and 
 snuffeth the battle afar off." 
 
 Then there were companies of artillery 
 dragging huge pieces of cannon bright as 
 burnished brass or polished steel could be. 
 
 Companies of infantry came one after 
 another, till they seemed to be like the sands 
 of the sea-shore for multitude. 
 
 A gay and brilliant pageant was thus before 
 the eyes of the youthful spectators, and Oscar 
 said to Frank, " I wouldn't have missed this 
 for anything. It is capital, isn't it ? " 
 
 After these companies had passed the spot 
 wliere Frank and Oscar looked with eager eyes 
 of unrestrained admiration upon them, the 
 boys concluded to go on to the City Hall and 
 to William's Hotel. Here they elbowed their 
 way through the crowd, gliding aroimd as 
 boys only can, now here, now there, but always 
 where the most was to be seen. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 31 
 
 A motley crowd was assembled in front of 
 both these buildings. Troops in the gorgeous 
 trappings of military display were stationed 
 here, both to preserve order, and to afford 
 protection to the city officials, the United 
 States officers, and more especially to the 
 President Elect — the honest man whom the 
 majority of voters had chosen to send to the 
 White House. 
 
 It seemed a long, long time before the pro- 
 cession could be formed in due order, and yet 
 the Marshal, and those who had the charge of 
 the matter did not seem to be idle. They 
 were seen to be flying hither and thither, on 
 horseback, or on foot, with their batons in their 
 hands which was their badge of office, and 
 procured for them profound respect and 
 instant obedience on such an occasion. 
 
 At noon the Senate Committee called upon 
 President Buchanan — the inefficient old man 
 who was about to resign his office to a worthier 
 
32 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 successor — and then accompanied him to 
 William's Hotel, a fine large edifice, thronged 
 with travellers and boarders, there to greet the 
 Illinois Stateman who was to guide the Ship 
 of State for the next four years. 
 
 After the usual delay, the party with the 
 valuable addition of the President elect and 
 his friends, proceeded in open carriages along 
 the avenue, at a moderate pace, so that the 
 vast throngs on the sidewalks, balconies, and 
 at the windows, could have a fine view of the 
 dignitaries of the land. 
 
 Oscar and Frank were among those who 
 gladly stood on tiptoe and stretched their 
 necks to see the President elect, and Frank 
 made the sensible remark to Oscar," in a sort 
 of undertone — "He isn't handsome, I tell 
 you, but he looks good. I should like to have 
 6uch a looking man for my father. I know 
 he'd be kind to me." 
 
 " Yes," answered Oscar, " and I shouldn't 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 83 
 
 be afraid to have him for a judge if I got into 
 a scrape." 
 
 Children have sharp eyes. They are great 
 discerners of character. And Frank and 
 Oscar were not the only ones who early read- 
 in the honest face of Abraham Lincoln the 
 generous and noble nature, the tender-hearted 
 opponent, the magnanimous and forgiving 
 judge. 
 
 Before the carriages in which the men 
 whom the nation delighted to honor were 
 seated, marched on foot or on horseback the 
 military guard and escort, with the loud and 
 inspiring strains of martial music, the stream- 
 ing of gorgeous banners and all the pomp and 
 circumstance of war. Scarcely did those sol- 
 diers imagine how soon they would be needed 
 for sterner service, and those musicians that 
 they should yet soimd the reveille on the 
 tented field, with the enemy in di-ead array 
 before them, and the prospect also of a day of 
 
34 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 carnage which would end in hard-won victory 
 or sad defeat. 
 
 Thousands of private citizens in carriages, 
 on horseback, and on foot, followed in the 
 mighty train. The various arts and profes- 
 sions, fire companies, masonic bands and 
 others with their showy engines, elegant rega- 
 lias, and the various insignia of their office or 
 employment, added to the brilliancy of the 
 pageant, with the spectators of all ages and 
 both sexes, and crowded the broad street. 
 
 The inauguration party reached the Capitol 
 by passing up the north side of the ground, 
 and entered the building by the northern door 
 over a temporary planked walk. 
 
 Here Frank and Oscar could not enter. 
 But those who did found that it was already 
 nearly filled, and presented a gayer spectacle 
 than ever before. The usual desks of the sen- 
 ators had been taken away, and there were 
 concentric lines of handsomely ornamented 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 85 
 
 chairs placed for the dignitaries of our own 
 and of other lands with which this country 
 was in bonds of amity and friendship. 
 
 The judges of the Supreme Coiu't and some 
 of the senators occupied the inner half circle 
 of chairs, on the right. The corresponding 
 half circle on the left contained the members 
 of the Cabinets of Mr. Buchanan and Mr. 
 Lincoln, and by senators. Senators again in 
 the next half circle, and then the members of 
 the diplomatic corps all in the full court dress 
 of their respective countries. Their dresses 
 were some of them gorgeous in the extreme, 
 with diamond stars and brilliant ribbons 
 denoting various orders and ranks. Other 
 senators, governors of States, Territories, &c., 
 occupied the seats further back, and outside 
 of them all, stood — for there was no more 
 room for seats — the members of the House 
 of Representatives and chief officers of the 
 executive bureaus. 
 
36 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 The galleries all round the room were occu- 
 pied by ladies, the privileged wives and other 
 friends of the gentlemen present. It was a 
 scene long to be remembered by those who 
 were present. Some of the men who were 
 there, though they did not know it, were never 
 to be in that room again — and not a few were 
 to be, ere another Inauguration Day, disowned 
 by their country as traitors, infamous and 
 despised. 
 
 At a quarter past one o'clock that afternoon, 
 President Buchanan, with the President elect 
 on his right, sat down in from of the clerk's 
 desk in that senate room, facing all that 
 august and brilliant assembly. Calm as a 
 summer's morning was the face of that great 
 man Abraham Lincoln, who by untiring in- 
 dustry connected with an honorable ambition, 
 under the favor of Providence, had been lifted 
 to occupy the proudest position in the land. 
 He was good as well as great, and therefore, 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 37 
 
 in that hour of proud triumph, what would 
 have disconcerted many another man, failed 
 to ruffle his equanimity. It mattered not to 
 him if men of high rank from other lands, 
 proud of their aristocratic birth and lineage, 
 were there, he was an American, honest, in- 
 dustrious, faithful, and upright; deserving 
 therefore the respect and confidence of all. 
 He was a consciencious republican, and bowed 
 to no man, and as he sat there felt only the 
 burden of the responsibilities he was about to 
 assume. 
 
 In a few minutes Vice President Hamlin, 
 who had been previously installed, ordered the 
 procession to be formed anew, composed of 
 those who were present. They were to march 
 to the platform on the east of the Capitol, and 
 did so, as soon as possible. A temporary cov- 
 ering had been placed there to protect the 
 President elect from, rain, if there should bo 
 any, while he read his Inaugural Address. A 
 
88 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 vast audience was before the honest stateman 
 as he read, and his clear, loud and distinct 
 voice, must have entered the ears of at least 
 ten thousand persons. After he had read liis 
 Address, the oath of his office was adninistered 
 to him by the venerable Cliief Justice of the 
 Supreme Court. Buchanan was now no long- 
 er in public office, but Abraham Lincoln, the 
 pioneer boy of the West, was the head of the 
 nation. 
 
 Escorted by the military part of the former 
 procession, the new President then went to the 
 Executive Mansion. There he was met by 
 General Scott, who warmly greeted him, and 
 then the doors of the house were opened, and 
 thousands of persons rapidly passed through, 
 shaking hands with President Lincoln, who 
 stood in the reception room for that purpose. 
 Thus simply and quietly was a change of 
 rulers made in our beloved country, when the 
 exigencies of the times greatly demanded new 
 measures and new men. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 39 
 
 Young as Frank and Oscar were, they had 
 become interested greatly in politics, through 
 reading the papers, hearing speeches <fec., and 
 when they saw President Lincohi fairly 
 inaugurated, for they pressed with the crowd, 
 and were even near enough to hear the 
 Address, they were jubilant with excitement, 
 and shouted as loud as any. 
 
 " I wish we could shake hands with him," 
 said Oscar. 
 
 " So do I," said Frank, " but we can't ; we 
 are only boj^s." 
 
 " I don't think our President woidd call us 
 only boys, or slight us for that. You ought 
 to have heard what Adelbert Brown said to- 
 day. His father went up to see Mr. Lincoln 
 at the hotel, and he had his little boy — his 
 name is Willie Lincoln — in his arms, and 
 seemed as kind to him as any father could 
 be." 
 
 " Oh ! he's a good man, I know. I wish I 
 
40 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 could be as good as lie, by-and-by," answered 
 Frank, and a remorseful feeling was gnawing 
 at his heart, as he remembered how rough and 
 unkind he often was at home. He ahnost 
 made a resolution to do better, but he remem- 
 bered how his former resolutions, one after 
 another, had been made only to be broken, and 
 he forebore. 
 
 " Come, let's go find the boys, and see 
 what they'll say to us ! " said Oscar ; and they 
 started off for the place of rendezvous, both, 
 however, feeling hungry enough to go home. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 TRUE BLUE." 
 
 •HE streets were still thronged, 
 though not so crowded, with 
 people. The day was one of 
 leisure to a vast number, and 
 they seemed determined to 
 make it one of festivity. It 
 was March, however, early 
 March, and not altogether as spring-like as 
 May Day might have seemed, so that many 
 soon sought the shelter and warmth of a fire- 
 side. Boys, being proverbially unconscious 
 of cold, were still in the street in immense 
 numbers, and as jubilant as ever. It was not 
 
 41 
 
42 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 long before Frank and Oscar were near the pi- 
 azza where Frank waited in the morning for 
 his comrades. The other boys of their com- 
 pany had reached the spot before them, and 
 did not give them a very cordial greeting, 
 though a noisy and vociferous one. 
 
 " There comes the skulkers ! " shouted one. 
 
 " Before I'd back out! " said another. 
 
 "We want no traitors here!" screamed a 
 thu'd, and the Captain, as they drew nigh, 
 doubled up his fist, and shook it menaccingly 
 in Oscar's face, growling through his clenched 
 teeth, " You lied to me, eh ! you rascal ! " 
 
 " Stop that, boys ! " said Oscar, as with a 
 bold front he advanced, while Frank hung 
 back, a little doubtful as to the result. 
 
 " Do give a fellow a hearing, will ye ? " 
 
 The captain made a sign with his hand, and 
 called out, " Attention, company ! " 
 
 All were silent on the instant. 
 
 " Out with it ! " exclaimed the captain to 
 Oscar, who replied, — 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 43 
 
 ** Any fellow is unreasonable who asks why 
 we did'nt get back. In the first place we 
 were detained by business, and then I'd like 
 to know how a fellow can get through such a 
 crowd as we got into ! And after we had lost 
 you, it was like looking for a needle in a hay- 
 stack to find you. But you got along with- 
 out us, and now just overlook it all, and go 
 with me after some oysters. I stand treat, to- 
 day. I've got some money." 
 
 The boys were softened. All of them were 
 hungry. Half eaten breakfasts, and long, 
 weary hours spent in the open air, were excel- 
 lent aids to a good appetite, and they could 
 not resist the potency of the spell which Oscar 
 saw fit to exercise over them. Comparatively 
 few of the company were present, so that the 
 tax on his purse would not be very heavy. 
 The other boys had bounded off towards their 
 homes, impelled by the desire for food which 
 had " gotten possession " of them. 
 
44 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 So not a word was said about their delin- 
 quency, and Oscar started to find a restaurant, 
 the boys following singly or in pairs. They 
 walked rapidly along the street, and tried the 
 first which came in sight, with its windows 
 full of cakes and pies, and large gilded letters 
 heralding the fact, that " Oysters, Hot Coffee, 
 Ice Cream," <fcc., were sold there. But that 
 which might naturally have been anticipated 
 occurred. Every restaurant was full, crowded, 
 overflowing. The grand events of the day had 
 brought a vast number of strangers to Wash- 
 ington, and the hotel and restaurant keepers 
 were reaping a golden harvest. One after 
 another was tried, and finding every where 
 full tables, and people waiting to be served, or 
 for chairs to be empty, they left the more fash- 
 ionable part of the city, and, still following 
 Oscar, went to restaurants less elegant in 
 style, and where a rougher class of customers 
 were served. At last they found a cellar in 
 
THE RUNAWASr BOY. 46 
 
 which was such an eating establishment, and 
 one table at least was empty. Gathering 
 chairs around that table as close as possible, 
 though rather too close for comfort, the boys 
 managed to be seated. Oscar called for the 
 oystei's, and while waiting to be served, they 
 chatted gaily together. The scenes of the in- 
 auguration procession, and the street crowds 
 were the prominent themes. All agreed that 
 never before had there been such a grand dis- 
 play of military and civic companies as on this 
 day. 
 
 " I shall remember it as long as I live," said 
 Frank. "And I heard the Inaugural Ad- 
 dress," added he to the boy at his side ; " did 
 you?" 
 
 " No ! I wish I had. We were jammed in 
 with the crowd, and couldn't get near enough." 
 
 "How did the new President look ? " asked 
 another boy of Frank. 
 
 " Look ? He looked as if he was bom a 
 man if he was'nt born a king." 
 
46 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 " Good for you, Frank ! " cried Oscar, 
 joining in the conversation. "I'd like to 
 know if he is'nt a king now, and a greater one 
 than Louis Napoleon, or any other in Eu- 
 rope ? " 
 
 " So he is," said the captain *of their little 
 band, " but he came plaguey nigh not getting 
 into the White House, and on the throne of 
 this nation, for some of the rabid Southerners 
 declared he never should be inaugurated, and 
 it is said a plot was discovered, or at least sus- 
 pected, to assassinate him while on his way to 
 Washington, so he came through Baltimore, in 
 a special train, disguised. So I heard this 
 morning." 
 
 " Well, it may be so. At any rate, those 
 rascally Southerners are up to any thing. 
 They treat their slaves like brutes, and that 
 hardens them so they are ready to treat white 
 people just so. That's what my father says." 
 
 The speaker of these words was Adelbert 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 47 
 
 Brown, whoso father had seen President Lin- 
 cohi and little Willie. 
 
 " I guess your father 's an Abolitionist,'* 
 said the captam. 
 
 " No more than the President. He is an 
 out-an-out Republican ; that's what he is ; and 
 he says slavery will come to an end sometime, 
 but he fears not without a terrible, struggle." 
 
 Just then Oscar turned to look for the 
 waiter with the oysters, and his eye fell on a 
 man of about thirty years of age, dressed in 
 the blue jacket and wide trousers of a sailor. 
 " Hollo ! " shouted Oscar, startling those in his 
 vicinity, and calling the attention of the sailor, 
 •' if there is'nt ' True Blue ! ' " 
 
 " Ship ahoy !" responded the tar, as he rec- 
 ognized Oscar, "Heave to, and send a boat 
 aboard." 
 
 " No, you come and join us ; we'll make 
 room for you ; " and Oscar commenced crowd- 
 ing his next neighbor fearfully. 
 
48 ' THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 " Avast, there ! " sang out the sailor. " I've 
 most finished my grub, and then I'll come 
 and stand a watch near you. Don't stow too 
 close ; I don't want a chair." 
 
 So the boys gave their attention to the 
 smoking hot oysters which just then arrived, 
 and pretty soon the sailor came and stood near 
 Oscar's chair. Before he came, Frank had 
 whispered to Oscar, in a tone loud enough to 
 be heard by the other boys, but not by the 
 sailor, 
 
 " Who is he, Oscar ? and what makes you 
 call him ' True Blue ! ' '' 
 
 " ' What's in a name ! ' " replied Oscar, 
 smiling ; " ' A rose by any other name would 
 smell as sweet ! ' " 
 
 " Let Shakspeare alone, will ye ? " spoke 
 out the captain, with a frown. " Tell us who 
 he is in plain prose. I'll like any man that's 
 worthy to be called ' True Blue ! ' " 
 
 " Well, he is, I can tell you," said Oscar. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 49 
 
 " He's a Marblehcad skipper, and once when 
 a saucy Englishman said something disrespect- 
 ful of the Stars and Stripes, this man — liis 
 name is Martin — asked 'em if he remembered 
 Revolutionary times, and 1812, and then he 
 licked the fellow till he was likely to remem- 
 ber that year, too, and to hold his tongue 
 about our flag. Then his ship-mates called 
 Martin 'True Blue,' and the name has be- 
 longed to him ever since." 
 
 The boys were delighted with this account. 
 Thoy were a little more patriotic than usual, 
 having had the star-spangled banner before 
 then- eyes during most of the day, and ha\dng 
 heard again and again, as they gazed upon its 
 beautiful stripes and gleaming stars, the music 
 of " Hail Coliunbia." Besides, boys have a 
 natural partiality for any man who bravely 
 meets with a deserved rebuff any foreigner who 
 dares insult America. Very early the cham- 
 pion-spirit is developed in a boy ; nor is it al- 
 
50 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 ways sheer combativeness, but something no- 
 bler and better. The same spirit affects his 
 literary taste, so that he will smile at his sister 
 for liking the "namby-pamby stories," as he 
 calls them, while he revels in thrilling accounts 
 of wonderful adventures, valiant conflicts and 
 hair-breadth escapes. 
 
 Thus it was that Skipper Martin met a warm 
 reception from the boys when he came over to 
 them. Oscar introduced him as " Skipper 
 Martin sometimes, but ' True Blue ' always ; " 
 and the boys responded with three hearty 
 cheers, the captain leading off. 
 
 This kind of conduct in an ordinary restau- 
 rant, or one up-town, elegant, fashionable and 
 decorous, would have resulted in the speedy 
 ejection of the noisy juveniles, but in this " free 
 and easy " room, as the owntr called it, the 
 uproarious welcome which the excited boys 
 gave the champion of their country, as he 
 seemed to them, was allowable, and awoke on- 
 
TllE RUNAWAY DOY. 61 
 
 \y smiles and sympathy from the other men 
 and boys sitting around. No women were 
 present, though female voices were heard oc- 
 casionally from the adjoining apartment, whero 
 the clattering of dishes told of hot water and 
 wiping-cloths. 
 
 The boys got calm again very soon, and lis- 
 tened with intense interest to " True Blue," 
 while he narrated, in sailor phrase, some inci- 
 dents of a recent voyage. 
 
 " How came you here to-day," asked Oscar. 
 " It's a long while since I have heard from 
 you. The last time I saw you was on Boston 
 wharf, and then you thought you should go 
 into the navy or merchant service." 
 
 " When did you first meet ? " asked Frank, 
 before True Blue had time to answer Oscar's 
 question. r 
 
 " A fathom or so under water, we met," re- 
 sponded True Blue, looking at Frank. " I 
 thought Oscar's folks wouldn't want him to go 
 
62 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 to Davy Jones* locker quite so soon, so I over- 
 hauled him in a hurry." 
 
 " He saved my life," said Oscar, " when I 
 fell ofif the end of Long Wharf, in Boston," 
 and the tone and look of the boy told that 
 there was real gratitude in his heart. " But 
 how came you here to-day. True Blue ? " 
 again asked he. 
 
 " Of course I came to see the elephant. 
 D'ye spose I'd be as near as Alexandria, and 
 not steer my course for Washington, when the 
 man I voted for was going to stand on the 
 quarter-deck for the first time ? What d'ye 
 think of a sea-dog like me, sailmg up and down 
 Marblehead streets with a torch-light in my 
 hand ? I've done it, and I'd do it again, just 
 to hear one good ' Hurrah for Lincoln ! ' '* 
 
 The jolly tar suited the action to the word, 
 or the tone to the sentiment, for he swung liis 
 hat aloft and shouted loudly. The boys 
 caught his enthusiasm, and at a signal from 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 63 
 
 the captain, they, too, slioutcd, " Ilurrah for 
 Liiicohi ! " 
 
 The keeper of the restaurant seemed to en- 
 joy tlie hilarity and patriotic outburst of his 
 juvenile customers, but a surly-looking man, 
 about fifty years old, said to another, whose 
 gray hairs ought to have indicated wisdom, in 
 a tone of great disapprobation, " What a noise 
 those young up-starts make! See what our 
 nation is coming to ! We shall have a villam- 
 ous horde of Abolitionists following Lincoln to 
 this city now.'' 
 
 The older man answered, with a provoking 
 look at the sailor, and, like his companion, in 
 a tone loud enough to be heard, " Wiat better 
 can be expected, when a set of Yankee mud- 
 sills rule the nation. Any rail-splitter can be 
 elected, when the ballot-box is stuffed, and the 
 ministers preach politics instead of religion." 
 
 " Shiver my timbers! " shouted True Blue ; 
 " What's that your saying ? I call it treason, 
 
64 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 and I'd hang traitors as high as Haman, if I 
 had my way. Any man that'll talk so, ought 
 to be put on board a leaky ship, with a short 
 allowance of salt junk and wormy bread." 
 
 " Shut up your mouth," exclaimed the sur- 
 ly-looking man, with an oath. " You needn't 
 think you Yankees are going to rule all crea- 
 tion, though you'd like to do so. If I catch 
 any of your Abolitionists after my slaves, I'll 
 make him stretch hemp, — I will indeed ; " and 
 he finished his speech with another fearful 
 oath. 
 
 " If you're a specimen of Southern chivalry," 
 answered True Blue, while the boys looked on 
 wondering what he would say, " Dang it, but 
 I must say I've seen better fish in our waters. 
 But I shan't quarrel with ye to-day, so you 
 needn't try to come athwart my hawser. I 
 must say, I'd like to set such rebels as you to 
 holy-stoning the deck in a gale of wind." 
 
 The nautical language of the sailor was a 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 65 
 
 little unintelligible both to the elder and 
 younger portion of his audience, but none 
 could mistake his tones, or the general tenor 
 of his rcpl^^ " You're True Blue ! " shouted 
 Oscar, and rising, he proposed three cheers 
 for Lincoln and the Union. They were given 
 with a hearty good will by. his comrades. True 
 Blue lending the deep bass of his hoarse voice 
 to swell the volume of sound. 
 
 The surly man looked as if he would have 
 liked to reply, but dared not, and, disgusted, 
 he and his companion rose and went away. 
 
 The boys finished their oysters, and then 
 proposed a stroll around the city, with their 
 new friend, but True Blue said he must go 
 back to his vessel, as she was to sail in a day . 
 or two, and he wished to oversee the taking in 
 of some cargo. 
 
 " I wish I could go with you," said Oscar. 
 
 « So do I," said Frank. 
 
 " Why can't you ? " asked True Blue, who 
 
66 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 saw that Oscar and Frank were walking along 
 arm-in-arm, and supposed them to be relatives 
 or fast friends. 
 
 " Here ! I'll make you an offer. You get 
 your folks to let you see old Marblehead, and 
 I'll take you there in my schooner, and give 
 you grub and a berth for nothing. I don't 
 know as I can bring you back, for the owners 
 talk of selling my snug little craft, and I am 
 hoping to get a better berth m tlie navy, with 
 Uncle Sam for paymaster." 
 
 " There 's your chance ! " exclaimed Oscar 
 to Frank, and then said aloud, " I can't go 
 this time, for my father has something for me 
 to do, but Thomas wants to, I know." 
 
 Frank opened his eyes wide, but Oscar only 
 signed to him to keep silent. Then he con- 
 tinued, " My friend here, Thomas Evans, has 
 long wished to see the North, and now if he 
 can get a chance to go, I thmk he will gladly 
 accept it, and I shall regard your taking him 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 57 
 
 as a f\ivor done to mc. You can run homo 
 and ask your mother, Thomas, and I'll plan it 
 with True Blue. You liavn't got much time 
 to get ready in." 
 
 So saying, Oscar drew away from Frank, 
 and understanding but too well what it all 
 meant, bade True Blue and the boys behind 
 them good evening, and went towards his home. 
 
 His mother met him in the hall. " Have 
 you enjoyed the day, my son ? " 
 
 He looked up at her pleasant face, and the 
 anxious expression which had gathered on his 
 own as he walked along towards his home, 
 passed away, as he smilingly answered, 
 
 " Capital, mother. I saw the new Presi- 
 dent, and even heard his address." 
 
 " I wish I had heard it," said his sister com- 
 ing out of the parlor, " but come in, Frank, 
 and hear me sing this new song. I have 
 learned it at last." 
 
 Frank placed his cap on the hat-tree, and 
 
68 THE Er/NAWAY BOY. 
 
 followed liis gentle and loving sister into the 
 parlor. His heart was full, and he was glad 
 she only wanted him to listen to music, and 
 not to join in conversation. He felt as if the 
 crisis of his destiny was approaching, and he 
 must soon decide whether he must remain 
 where his duties were irksome, and he was a 
 burden to others, or go away and work for 
 himself. He was clearly in the wrong, but he 
 did not so understand the case. His mother 
 never felt him to be a burden, and his duties 
 were indeed comparatively light. His contem- 
 plated grapple with life's labors among strang- 
 ers, would soon show him that. But the hour 
 for his departure seemed to him to be drawing 
 nigh, and as soon as he could, he went up to 
 his room, and prepared his valise for depart- 
 ure. He hardly knew what to pack, or how 
 he should proceed, but he thought Oscar and 
 True Blue would help him in any extremity. 
 He had a little money, which, at Oscar's sug- 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 69 
 
 gestion, he had saved for the time of running 
 away, and he hoped to find employment before 
 it was spent. But, after all, his heart misgave 
 him. Again and again the idea came that he 
 was not about to treat his mother or sister as 
 he would have them do to him. He felt that 
 he was cowardly in running away, and yet he 
 was afraid to be called a coward by Oscar, 
 when here was as good a chance as he could 
 ever have. So he resolved to go, and by the 
 time he went down to tea, he had persuaded 
 himself that he was right, and that his mother 
 and sister would think so when he came home 
 with a fortune earned by his own industry. 
 He forgot that a boy who will not work with- 
 out finding fault with the necessity for effort, 
 at home, will not be likely to find labor very 
 easy abroad. 
 
 While the family were at tea, the door bell 
 rang, and Frank was called. His heart throb- 
 bed quickly, and had his mother's eye been 
 
60 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 upon him, she must have seen that something 
 was wrong with her precious, though sometimes 
 wayward boy. But she was busy in attending 
 to her boarders, and so was sister Mary ; and 
 Frank got out of the room unnoticed. 
 
 He found Oscar in the parlor waiting for 
 him. " Are you ready ? " was the question. 
 
 " Yes," was the faltering response. 
 
 " Then come along, right away. You be a 
 man, Frank ; get your traps and come with 
 me." 
 
 Frank felt like anything but a man, acting 
 a manly and high-minded part, when he came 
 down with his valise in his hand, and his over- 
 coat on his arm. But there was no time to 
 parley. Delay might ensure discovery and 
 defeat. A moment more, and the door of his 
 mother's home closed behind him, and shut 
 him out into the cold, wide world. 
 
CHAPTER lY. 
 
 OUT ON THE OCEAN, 
 
 RAXK and Oscar walked rapidly 
 away from the home which 
 Frank's departure was to make 
 so desolate. Now that he had 
 decided, and taken the first 
 step, Frank's mind was more 
 quiet, as after a mental stnig- 
 gle, any decision, right or wrong, will bring a 
 relief, wliich will be temporary or permanent, 
 according to the character of the decision. But 
 he was not without misgivings, only he was 
 determined to proceed and overcome all ob- 
 stacles. Young as he was, he possessed great 
 
62 TUE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 energy of character, and was, after all, pretty 
 well calculated to work his way through the 
 world. 
 
 " Where am I to find True Blue ? " asked 
 Frank. 
 
 " He is not far from here, in a store, buying 
 some little knick-knacks as mementos of his 
 visit to our city. Have you left a note, as I 
 suggested ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Frank. 
 
 " What did you write ? " 
 
 " Only that I thought I could earn money 
 where I was going, and would bring them 
 some when I came back, and that they need 
 not look for me, for I would write to them." 
 
 " They'll be after you if they know where 
 you are." 
 
 " Yes, I know it, and of course they '11 find 
 out." 
 
 " Why, you simpleton, you needn't mail 
 your letters in the place where you are. You 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. G3 
 
 must not write very often, and you must never 
 forget that your name is Thomas Evans." 
 
 It was wonderful what a power Oscar had 
 over Frank. He had but to say " do this," 
 and he- did it, or so at least it seemed. Yet 
 he could never have induced Frank to leave 
 his comfortable home, and kind mother, if 
 there had not been in Frank's heart an un- 
 swerving desire to be free from restaint, and to 
 dwell amid new scenes and acquaintances. 
 He was sorry, a little sorry, to grieve his moth- 
 er and sister, but not at all penitent. Ho 
 vainly fancied that the world would receive 
 and shelter him, not knowing that he was like 
 Adam, when the angel with the flaming sword 
 barred behind him the gates of Paradise. He 
 was yet to learn the meaning of the solemn as- 
 surance, " In the sweat of thy face shalt thou 
 eat bread." And ere his proud heart should 
 De humbled, he was yet to look back to his 
 mother's house with deep and bitter longing. 
 But we will not anticipate. 
 
G4 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 In due time, Frank was on board " the 
 Flying Fish, Martin, of and for Marblehead," 
 as the papers succinctly reported the vessel. 
 Oscar was with him, but he tarried only a little 
 while, and soon the time arrived when the. 
 vessel should depart. Thomas, for so we may 
 now sometimes call him, that being the only 
 name by which he was known on board, had 
 not particularly enjoyed his close berth, and 
 the stifled air of the cabin where he had slept, 
 for Captain Martin had assigned to him a berth 
 in the state room next to his own, but, boy- 
 like, he took a pride in appearing indiflferent 
 to inconveniences on board ship, which at his 
 own home would have made him querulous 
 and impatient. His food was not exactly what 
 he was accustomed to eat at his mother's ta- 
 ble. None of her delicate custards and nice 
 puddings and pies, but simpler fare, and served 
 with little regard to elegance and custom. 
 But he was on the way to freedom and indo- 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 65 
 
 pendent, probably lucrative, labor in a new 
 home, and he would not let trifles disturb his 
 pleasure at the thought. 
 
 The hour came. The anchor was weighed, 
 with the long-drawn music of "Yo! heave- 
 ho!" The sails were hoisted one by one, and 
 with a propitious breeze the vessel soon made 
 good headway out of the harbor. Very soon 
 Tliomas began to feel uncomfortable, more un- 
 comfortable than he had ever felt before in his 
 life, he thought. His head ached, and there 
 was a distressing feeling of nausea. An inde- 
 scribable sense of utter misery and forlornness 
 came over him. He grew sicker and sicker. 
 He was dizzy and faint. And soon came the 
 climax, and with a sensation of complete aban- 
 donment of all interest in any thing else, and 
 a despair of ever feeling better, and a sickness 
 that was complete, making " the whole head 
 sick and the whole heart famt," he leaned over 
 the side of the vessel, and, as the sailors ex- 
 
66 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 pressed it, "threw up Jonah." Then he 
 wished himself among the wild hills of Ameri- 
 ca's Switzerland, among the relatives of his 
 New Hampshire horn parents, than on the blue 
 and tossing deep. 
 
 " True Blue " had been so busy that he had 
 not before noticed the increased paleness and 
 languid motions of the boy; but when he 
 heard the ominous sound that indicated the 
 convulsive motions of the sea-sick stomach, he 
 approached the youth, and with his rough 
 speech, yet with real kindness of manner, and 
 genuine good will, he exclaimed, " Ho ! you 
 land-lubber ! Couldn't help paying tribute to 
 old Neptune, could you ? Never mind, you'll 
 be better when you get the cargo all started 
 from the hold. Here, my lad ! let me help 
 you to go down below to your berth. Lean 
 on me, till you get to the companion-way." 
 
 Thomas gladly accepted his kind offer, and 
 was never more rejoiced to lay his head upon 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 67 
 
 his j)illow. Ho was sick for some hours, and 
 then slept calmly and sweetly on tlie bosom of 
 the ever-restless ocean. When he again came 
 on deck, the land was far behind them, and 
 'the mighty deep stretched on before their 
 little barque, as far as the eye could reach, till 
 tlie blue waves in the dim distance met and 
 blended with the azure of the sky. Here and 
 there its broad bosom was flecked with the 
 snowy sails of vessels, it might be from far 
 different portions of the globe, and over all 
 this wide expanse, which was an image of 
 eternity, and these scattered vessels the 
 emblems of human souls, there was spread the 
 broad, bright canopy of sky, a symbol of God's 
 impartial love and care. The young runaway 
 felt the beauty — the grandeur of the scene. 
 Involuntarily his heart said, " I wish that 
 mother and Mary were here," for he knew 
 how much they would enjoy such a prospect. 
 He had heard them speak with admiration of 
 
68 THE RUNAWAY BOY. ^ 
 
 ocean scenery, and he could not but wish that 
 they stood on that deck with him. 
 
 " What ye thinking of, my hearty ? " asked 
 " True Blue." 
 
 " Of my mother and sister," was the honest 
 response. 
 
 " D'ye wish yourself back in your mother's 
 parlor, safely moored to the sofa or rocking 
 chair ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! ' 
 
 But this time the answer was not quite so 
 honest, for, though there was no wavering of 
 his determination to see the world, there was 
 in his heart a wish to step in home, and see 
 how they all bore his absence. 
 
 " I suppose your mother didn't want you to 
 get oflf soundings . Mothers never do . They ' re 
 always afraid of drowning or something, but 
 that's all right in mothers. It comes of their 
 tender love. I suppose your father was will- 
 ing or you wouldn't have come here." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 69 
 
 Now for an evasion ; so Frank, — alias 
 Thomas — answered, " My father is dead, sir," 
 and turned away, as if he did not care to say 
 any more. True Blue, with a respectful senti- 
 ment (never wanting in the sailor so proverbi- 
 ally noble and generous) of regard for the 
 feelings of the bereaved, said no more. Thus 
 the secret which the Runaway was to carry 
 with him so long, remained undiscovered. 
 
 About an hour afterward, as Frank sat on 
 the deck, or rather reclined near a large coil 
 of rope, the Skipper again entered into conver- 
 sation with him. The lad had been thinking 
 sadly of his home, and regretting the pain his 
 departure had caused, yet not so repenting as 
 to wish to return thither. He was now glad 
 of an opportunity to talk, and thus change the 
 current of his thoughts. And if he commenced 
 the conversation liimself, he fancied he could 
 steer clear of rocks and quicksands, and not 
 permit True Blue to discover that he was hai- 
 
70 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 boring a deserter. So he asked Captain Mar- 
 tin, " Wliat kind of papers do you keep in that 
 flat tin box I saw you open this morning in 
 the cabin? They looked like legal docu- 
 ments." 
 
 "What does a boy like you know about 
 ' legal documents,' let me ask, first ? " 
 
 " We had a lawyer once board at our house, 
 and I saw a great many of his papers, and he 
 used to tell me they were ' legal documents.' 
 Yours to-day, being partly prmted and partly 
 written, reminded me of them." 
 
 "You are an observing chap. You keep 
 your eyes open, and you'll learn, in school, or 
 out, especially out. That tin box holds my 
 vessel's papers." 
 
 " Your protection ? " 
 
 "Yes, if you choose to call it so, or my 
 license. Here ! I have one in my pocket-book. 
 It is a copy, and I keep it in memory of the 
 first time I ever went skipper. I always used 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 71 
 
 to sail with my father, and was the old man's 
 mate till I got this other craft. I might have 
 been a skipper sooner, but I thought father 
 needed me, and so I stayed with him, till God 
 bade him cast anchor in the broad bay of 
 heaven." 
 
 True Blue paused, and looked reverently 
 upward. Then his great, noble heart found 
 utterance. " I tell ye, my lad, you'll never 
 regret doing all you can for your father, or, I 
 should say, for your mother." 
 
 How Frank's heart smote him ! 
 
 True Blue continued, as he drew a worn 
 paper from his pocket-book, " Let me read it 
 to you, young man. I've read it so many 
 times I almost know it by heart. It is duly 
 signed and countersigned by the Collector and 
 Surveyor of the Port. 
 
 Lifting the paper nearer to his eyes, Captain 
 Martin read. 
 
72 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 " District of Marblehead. 
 In pursuance of an act of Congress entitled, 
 * An Act for enrolling and licensing ships or 
 vessels to be employed in the coasting trade 
 and fisheries, and for regulating the same, 
 Joseph Orne and Adoniram Martin, fishermen 
 of Marblehead, in the state of Massachusetts, 
 having given bond that the sloop called the 
 Columbia, whereof, the said Martin is Master, 
 — burden 16 92-95 tons, as appears by the cer- 
 tificate of admeasurement, dated at Marble- 
 head, the 22nd day of May, 1856, by which 
 certificate it appears that her length is 32 feet 
 and 7 inches ; breadth, 12 feet and 5 inches ; 
 depth, 5 feet and 2 inches ; square stern and 
 billet heads, — shall not be employed in any 
 trade, while this license shall continue in 
 force whereby the revenue of the United 
 States shall be defrauded, and having also 
 sworn that this license shall not be used for 
 any other vessel, or for any other employment 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 73 
 
 than is herein specified, license is hereby 
 granted for the said sloop, called the Columbia 
 of Marblehead, to be employed in carrying on 
 the cod-fishery for one year from the date 
 hereof, and no longer. — May 7, 1858." 
 
 " Tliere," said he, as he laid down the paper, 
 " that is the style of the papers below, about 
 which you inquired." 
 
 " Perhaps I ought not to have asked," said 
 Frank, timidly, " but I thought they related to 
 the vessel, and I like to learn." 
 
 " That's right, my boy ! Hold on to that 
 idea, as a lobster holds on to a line, when he 
 gets it in his claw. It may bring you to the 
 top-wave, sometime." - 
 
 Frank had now arisen and was looking at 
 the compass which was in the binnacle, or box 
 in which the compass is usually kept on board 
 a vessel, and which is arranged so that a lamp 
 near it, can be lighted at night, that the helms- 
 man may know how to steer. 
 
 m-' ^ 
 
74 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 '' Can you tell the points of compass, my 
 lad ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, I think I can." 
 
 " Try it ! Nothe, nothe be east — " 
 
 Frank took up the list, where True Blue 
 stopped — "Nor' — nor' east, north east by 
 north, north east, north east by east, east, 
 north east, east by north, east — ," 
 
 " Yes, yes, I see, you'd make a jolly sailor 
 boy. Why not go with me in the Navy ? " 
 
 " My mother might not like to have me go 
 so far." 
 
 That answer came almost spontaneously; 
 yes, it did come without thought ; the natural 
 utterance of the boy's heart, which said to him, 
 as soon as he spoke, what, in an undertone of 
 sorrow, it had been all the while saying, " She 
 does not like to have you go so far as you are 
 going now." 
 
 -'But there seemed no help for it then. He 
 was out on the boundless deep. The wind 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 75 
 
 wliicli filbd the -wide, white sails stretched 
 above him, wafted him each hour farther from 
 his home. He must tread the path he had 
 chosen, and tread it without the remembrance 
 of a mother's sanction. He thrust the thought! 
 from his mind, and asking for a spyglass, be- 
 gan to gaze at the vessels within sight. The 
 sea-sickness, which was so horrible, had passed 
 away, though it had left him with the languor 
 of weakness, and the dread of its return. He 
 could not yet feel accustomed to the motion of 
 the vessel, and when she lurched, he usually 
 lurched too. As " True Blue," often said, he 
 " hadn't his sea-legs on." 
 
 The hours of that day rapidly passed, though 
 somewhat more slowly to Frank than when on 
 land with so many more objects of interest 
 around, all askmg for the attention due. 
 
 And now that he was not sea-sick, Frank 
 was never weary of watching the changeful 
 face of 
 
 « The boundlefis sea, that wasUeth many lands.** 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 •HE weather, during a part of 
 the time that Frank was on his 
 way to Marblchcad, was far 
 from being such as to make 
 him fancy a sea life. As they 
 drew toward the coast of New 
 England, they found the month 
 which had been comparatively balmy and 
 spring-like at the South, to be farther North, 
 only " Stormy March," 
 
 " With wind and cloud and changing skies." 
 
 Frank found his overcoat comfortable when- 
 ever he was on deck, and was not sorry to sit 
 76 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 77 
 
 rfear the stove, when in the cabin. One morn- 
 ing, as they drew near Boston harbor, where 
 Captain Martin desired to stop and leave a 
 portion of his cargo, Frank went on deck, and 
 found tlie soft feathery snow-flakes rapidly fall- 
 ing. They rested, without melting, on the 
 deck, which was already white with its wintry 
 covering, but the ocean, though gray with the 
 reflection of the storm-clouds, bore no trace of 
 their presence. Silently tliey fell upon its 
 mighty bosom, and as silently melted away, 
 like words, spoken by the lips, which leave no 
 trace upon the atmosphere, but if written 
 might prove more enduring than monumental 
 marble. Frank walked to the side of the 
 vessel, and looked over. The snow was falling 
 fast, but there was little wind, and the flakes 
 fell almost perpendicularly. 
 
 True Blue stepped to Frank's side. " We 
 have a cold welcome to Boston harbor, my 
 boy 1 " 
 
78 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 "Yes, sir, and I'm sorry for it. I Md 
 hoped to see the city of which I have read so 
 often, and discern for myself, at first sight, as 
 I thought I should, the State House with its 
 lofty dome, and Bunker Hill Monument, too, 
 not far away." 
 
 " Well, it may clear so that you will see 
 them yet, as we pass along among the islands. 
 But what are you looking so intently at that 
 snow for ? Doesn't it burn your Southern 
 fingers, to hold it so long in your hand ? " 
 
 Frank smiled at the idea, and then replied, 
 " I was thinking, sir, of what our teacher told 
 us about the forms of snow, how each flake 
 is in exact geometrical form, and many of 
 those forms very beautiful." 
 
 True Blue took up some snow and looked 
 at it, then threw it away, and caught some 
 flakes on his hand and looked at them. " I 
 never thought of that before," said he, " they 
 are very regularly shaped and beautiful, too. 
 
THE -RUNAWAY BOY. 79 
 
 And would you like to see some of the red 
 snow Captain Perry saw in the Ai'ctic re- 
 gions ? " 
 
 "Very much," said Frank, and he looked 
 up with an expression of deep interest, " but 
 what made it red ? " 
 
 " Oh, it was said there were minute marine 
 animals in it; that was all." 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Frank, " that's it ! " 
 
 Just then Frank conceived the idea of 
 mounting the taffrail, as he had often done 
 before, that he might have a more extended 
 view. At this time, however, he really had 
 no particular design in doing so. It was just 
 one of those " boy-capers," aimless and fruit- 
 less, which every parent and teacher has 
 noticed, and in which every live boy has to 
 share. True Blue did not notice what he was 
 doing at first, then, as he observed his motions, 
 he exclaimed quickly — and with a gesture at 
 once imperative and deprecating, " Stop ! 
 
80 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 Thomas, you're iii danger. That's too slip- 
 pery ! " 
 
 But he was too late. The thoughtless, 
 though not reckless youth, ignorant of his 
 danger, and not dreaming that the snow had 
 made the wood so slippery, had climbed too 
 far, and in a moment slid over the side of 
 the vessel and sank far beneath the dark 
 waters. Quick as thought True Blue gave 
 the alarm, "ringing out," — as sailors say — 
 in loud, clear tones, " Man overboard ! " 
 
 Every man of his little crew was on the 
 alert in an instant. True Blue, knowing 
 himself to be an experienced swimmer, fear- 
 lessly boimded over the side. 
 
 The mate hurriedly gave orders to " tack 
 ship," and then with a sense of terrible respon- 
 sibility and suspense, awaited the result. 
 Although it was day, the fast-falling snow pre- 
 vented those on board the vessel, from seeing 
 plainly the positions of those in the water. A 
 
S^Si ^-,- .~iSg< 
 
 ?^X. 
 
 Quick as thought Tim- Uliic irave the ahum, iiii<;ing out, 
 ill loud, clear toucs. " Man ov(Mln»ar<l I" Pai^e 8U. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 81 
 
 glimpse of the Captain, was seen just as the 
 boat was lowered alongside. 
 
 " Save the Captain, at any rate ! " shouted 
 the mate. " He swims like a duck, but he 
 might get benumbed in such weather." 
 
 The men sprang into the boat, and " pulled 
 with a will " after their beloved Captain. His 
 warm and noble heart, his genial manners, and 
 ever prompt care for their comfort, always 
 endeared him to the hearts of his crew, and 
 though they all liked Frank's simple, unaffect- 
 ed good sense, and apparent thirst for knowl- 
 edge, and gentlemanly ways, and would not 
 have had him drowned, yet they were most of 
 all anxious to save their Captain. 
 
 " I see them," said the steersman, " Pull 
 away, boys. Skipper Martin forever! Pull 
 away ! " 
 
 The sailors needed no urging. They bent 
 their backs sturdily, and used to good purpose 
 the sinewy muscles of their strong arms. Not 
 
82 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 one of them had a hat on his head, save the 
 steersman. He happened to be on deck when 
 the catastrophe occurred, the others were 
 below, and " tumbled up " from the forecastle 
 without a pause for anything when they heard 
 the startling cry, " A man overboard ! *' which 
 burst from the Captain's lips, and was re- 
 echoed by all who heard it. 
 
 " He's got him ! We're gaining on'em ! 
 Now, boys, a long pull, a strong pull, and a 
 pull altogether ! " said the steersman, again 
 cheering his men. 
 
 In a moment more the boat shot alongside 
 of the rescuer and rescued, the man and the 
 boy, and both were speedily transferred to the 
 boat, and with glad hearts the men rowed back 
 to the vessel, which it was not easy to find be- 
 cause of the snow, and which they might have 
 had more difficulty in finding, if the mate had 
 not blown a horn from time to time. 
 
 Frank was taken on board apparently sense- 
 
TUE RUNAWAY BOY. 83 
 
 less, but not lifeless, and " all hands and the 
 cook" were at once busy in restoring con- 
 sciousness. The cook provided hot water and 
 hot cloths, and the sailors, under the Captain's 
 directions, rubbed the benumbed body of the 
 half-drowned boy as tenderly as his own 
 mother would have done, and, to their great 
 joy, with final success. 
 
 " You saved me ! " were Frank's first words, 
 looking at True Blue. " Yes," answered the 
 skipper with his own noble simplicity and 
 directness. 
 
 Frank closed his eyes. He was too much 
 exhausted to talk much, and, besides, his 
 mind, as might be expected, was a little con- 
 fused. He afterwards described his sensa- 
 tions ; said he heard True Blue's warning 
 voice, but too late for it to be of any service. 
 He felt the blow as he touched the mass of 
 waters, and then the peculiar sensation which 
 belongs to utter submersion. Eyes and nose, 
 
84 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 ears and mouth seemed to be filled with the 
 salt and bitter sea, and involuntarily he swal- 
 lowed the nauseous compound again and 
 again. He felt himself sinking, sinking, 
 sinking. He thought of his mother, and in 
 the brief time before consciousness departed, 
 he reviewed the past, and was not a little 
 depressed by the retrospect. He then most 
 heartily wished he had never run away from 
 his kind mother, loving sister, and pleasant 
 home. A moment more and all was blank. 
 
 Three times he rose to the surface the 
 Captain thought, and was just sinking for the 
 last time, when, with a desperate effort, the 
 skipper reached him, grasped him by the hair, 
 and held him fast, lifting his head, as far as 
 possible, above water. 
 
 It was a narrow escape for both. The snow 
 rendered it almost certain that they could not 
 be found till one or both should be exhausted. 
 But a favoring Providence had restored both. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 85 
 
 and the skipper felt truly grateful to God, 
 while Frank was equally grateful to True 
 Blue. This circumstance served to knit their 
 hearts very closely together, and never, in 
 after life, did Frank cease to recal with love 
 and gratitude, the man, who, to save a stranger 
 boy, perilled his own life. 
 
 After Frank's recovery he thanked True Blue 
 in very earnest and fitting words. " I do not 
 wonder," added he, " that Oscar thinks so 
 much of you. I can understand it all now. 
 You have saved both our lives, and we shall 
 never forget it.'* 
 
 " ^Y\\Sit sort of a boy is Oscar ? " asked True 
 Blue, who seemed to be glad to turn the sub- 
 ject, not liking to hear his own praises. 
 
 " Well, he's a pretty good sort of a boy gen- 
 erally, sometimes — " answered Frank a little 
 confused, for he could not but call to miiid 
 many of Oscar's deeds which were not credita- 
 ble to his head or his heart, and he felt, 
 
86 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 especially, that his influence over him had 
 been mainly evil. 
 
 " Is he a conscientious, upright boy ? " asked 
 the Skipper with his calm, searching eyes fixed 
 on Frank's face. 
 
 " He does as well as he thinks boys need to 
 do." 
 
 " And because he is a boy, he thinks he can 
 be excused if he don't do everything ship- 
 shape ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered Frank. 
 
 " Well, I think otherwise. A man should 
 keep his soul as white as a pure-minded 
 woman will keep hers. And boys have no 
 more right to do wrong than men. Those 
 that sow wild oats get a crop of misery. A 
 boy ought to be like a ship. He should be 
 freighted with good principles, and with Jesus 
 for a helmsman and pilot, and the Bible for a 
 chart, he'll steer straight into the port of 
 glory." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 8? 
 
 Frank assented, and pondered on the words. 
 Meanwhile the storm abated ; at least the snow 
 ceased, and Frank had the pleasure of seeing 
 Boston harbor with its many islands, its multi- 
 tudinous fleet of passing vessels, and its dome- 
 crowned State House adorning the summit of 
 the highest land in the Tri-mountain city, and 
 a fit emblem of the intellectual and social 
 superiority claimed for Bostonia as " the hub 
 of the universe." 
 
 " How many islands there are in this har- 
 bor ! " exclaimed Frank to the Skipper. 
 
 " Yes," answered True Blue, " but these 
 islands are gradually wearing away. Large 
 herds of cattle used to feed on some of them, 
 where now the ocean rolls its billows." 
 
 " Do you know the names of any of them ? " 
 
 "Of several. That one with a frowning 
 Fort on it, is a sort of key to the harbor. It 
 commands the open sea, and it rises in some 
 places nearly fifty feet above high water mark. 
 
88 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 It is George's Island and the fort is named for 
 the gallant Revolutionary General Warren." 
 
 Pointing in another direction, the Skipper 
 continued : " that island with the hotel and a 
 lighthouse on it, is Long Island, and behind it 
 is Rainsford and the Quarantine Ground. 
 Those rocks are called Nix's Mate. The story 
 is that a mate murdered his captain and buried 
 him there. That's Thompson's Island over 
 yonder with the Farm School upon it. That's 
 a good thing, I can tell you." 
 
 " What is so good ? " asked Frank. 
 
 " Why, the school. Little fellows that have 
 no homes, or no good ones, are taken there 
 and trained to be useful and happy. In the 
 right season the big boys work in the garden, 
 and even the little ones have gardens where 
 they play work. In the winter most of them 
 go to school, and some make shoes and clothes 
 for the school. They are all kept busy, and 
 have a chance to learn and grow up to be 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 89 
 
 somebody. Every boy lias a 'freedom suit' 
 when he's twenty-one, and if he's apprenticed 
 to a farmer, he has a hundred dollars in addi- 
 tion.'* 
 
 " Are the boys well fed and clothed ? " 
 " Oh yes ; and they seem happy and con- 
 tented. They have books to read, and have 
 quite a library of interesting volumes." 
 " How did you know so much about it ? " 
 " Oh, I've been there to carry the Trustees 
 or Directors, in my little sloop, and so I found 
 out." 
 
 " What is the name of that Island with a 
 large building on it ? " asked Frank. 
 
 "Oh, that is Deer Island, and the Alms- 
 house. It is large enough for twelve hundred 
 people. And that over there is Castle Island 
 with Fort Independence on it. And that one 
 is Governor's Island, and Fort Winthrop is 
 there. Why, my boy, I'd like to take you 
 round among these islands some summer day. 
 IIow you would enjoy it ? " 
 
90 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 " Yes, indeed I should, if I don't get over- 
 board." 
 
 " Oh, you'll be more careful in future. I 
 s'pose you'd rather be like the 
 
 * Three wise men of Gotham * 
 
 who 
 
 * Went to sea m a bowl,* 
 
 if you could only stay in the bowl, than to be 
 drenched again and half-drowned." 
 
 "Yes, indeed," answered Frank, laughing 
 at the idea of the skipper's quoting Mother 
 Goose to him whose days of babyhood were so 
 far back in the past, but those very words 
 carried him back into that past, and again his 
 heart smote him as he remembered the mother 
 who had doubtless sung to him, as many 
 American mothers have sung 
 
 "Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top, 
 When the wind blows the cradle will rock, 
 When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, 
 Down goes cradle, baby and all." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 9i 
 
 At any rate he knew her dear lips had taught 
 him to say, nightly, what the venerable John 
 Quiucy Adams said he never forgot to say, 
 
 " Now I lay me dowii to sleep, 
 I pray the Lord ray soul to keep, 
 If I should die before I wake, 
 I pray the Lord my soul to take." 
 
 And so it happened that Frank's thoughts 
 were more with his far-off mother from whom 
 he was a foolish, and worse than foolish, run- 
 away, instead of being with Boston, its claim 
 to be called " the Athens of America," or its 
 celebrated Tea Parti/, 4*c., while he was sailing 
 up the island-dotted harbor to Boston wharf. 
 
CHAPTER VI, 
 
 "to abms." 
 
 >HE weather became clear, 
 though it continued cold, after 
 the Flying Fish was moored at 
 Lewis' wharf, and pretty soon 
 Frank received an invitation 
 to accompany the skipper up 
 into the city. Fortunately, 
 though he lost his cap when he fell overboard, 
 he had a hat on board which he could wear, 
 and he very gladly accepted the invitation. 
 After a few calls on persons with whom he 
 had business. True Blue led the way to 
 Faneuil Hall, and mounting to the audience 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 93 
 
 room, Frank soon had the pleasure of looking 
 upon the large and magnificent painting which 
 there represents Daniel Webster speaking in 
 the Senate of the United States, on the occa- 
 sion of that memorable reply to Hayne, when 
 he used the immortal words, which have 
 become a nation's motto since, " Liberty and 
 Union — now and forever — one and insepa- 
 rable." With no little • pride, as well as 
 pleasure, True Blue expatiated upon the 
 picture and its merits, pointing out Cal- 
 houn, Clay and other " men of mark," who 
 were represented there. There was no want 
 of patriotism in True Blue's utterance, and 
 Frank felt, as he looked at him and listened, 
 that if his country was really in danger, here 
 was a man who would fight, and if need be, 
 ilie in her defence. 
 
 } From the Cradle of Liberty they went to the 
 State House. The legislature was in session, 
 and therefore they could not, as they wished, 
 
*74 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 ascend to the cupola which rests on the apex 
 of the dome, and from which a fine, extended 
 view of Boston and its vicinity is obtained. 
 But they gazed upon the marble statue of 
 " the Father of his country," which stands in 
 a recess of the Doric Hall, and visited also the 
 rooms in which the representatives and the 
 Senators meet, and the Library and Agricul- 
 tural Museum. Frank was particularly inter- 
 ested when in the Library, in looking over a 
 huge volume representing the Birds of Ameri- 
 ca, and painted from life, and drawn of life 
 size by the great ornithologist, John James 
 Audubon. The skeletons of a horse, and of a 
 cow secured his closest attention when in the 
 agricultural cabinet, and a model in papier- 
 mache of a horse, whose anatomy coidd thus 
 be sttidied. As they passed out of the front 
 entrance, and stood on the steps, Frank gazed 
 deliglitedly upon the common, the city, and 
 the distant view ; noticing near at hand, in the 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 95 
 
 State House enclosure, the bronze Statue of 
 Daniel Webster, he turned to the Skipper and 
 said, " This is a red-letter day in my life, sir. 
 I thank you for all this, and I hope I shall be 
 able to show my gratitude some day." 
 
 " It is enough for me, Thomas, that you 
 enjoy it. I hope you will live to have many 
 such red-letter days, and make a good and use- 
 ful man." 
 
 There was really in Frank's heart an echo- 
 ing " Amen " to this kind wish, but he felt 
 that his friend would not thus have praised 
 him, had he known all. He longed to tell 
 him, but he feared he would advise him to re- 
 turn, and his pride would not allow that. 
 
 On the way through State Street to the Cus- 
 tom House which Captain Martin, having 
 some business there, desired to visit, " True 
 Blue " said to Frank, " Here, Thomas, is the 
 Post Office. Now if you want to send word' 
 homo that you have got so far safely, you can 
 
96 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 deposit a letter here to-morrow and it will be 
 in Washington in a jiffy." 
 
 " I should like to write to my mother," an- 
 
 ; swered Frank. " I'll stop somewhere and buy 
 
 some writing materials." * 
 
 " No, you won't, by a long chalk ! ' Time 
 and tide wait for no man,' and Skipper Martin 
 don't wait when he has a net to haul. Besides 
 there's a plenty of paper and pens and all that 
 sort of toggery on board the Flying Fish, at 
 your service, young man." And the Skipper 
 bowed to Frank with much respect and a ludi- 
 crous expression of countenance which made 
 Frank laugh. 
 
 They soon reached the Custom House, and 
 Frank saw that it was an imposing structure 
 of massive granite. 
 
 " Look at those columns ! " said Captain 
 Martin, pointing to the six large, fluted, gran- 
 ite pillars of the portico. 
 
 " I see," said Frank ; " noble, isn't it ? " 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 97 
 
 "Yes, a fine row of them, each in one 
 piece, and each weighing forty-two tons." 
 " Wliew ! " exclaimed Frank. 
 " They tell me this immense structure is built 
 on three thousand piles, with a granite plat- 
 form next, eighteen inches thick, and laid in 
 cement, and then on all that they put the 
 foundations of those mighty walls." 
 
 "I should think the building would en- 
 dure." 
 
 "Yes, nothing but an earthquake could 
 topple it down, I think." 
 
 They entered the Custom House, and while 
 the Captain was transacting his busmess, 
 Frank looked around the grand cross-shaped 
 rotunda in which he stood. He counted the 
 lofty, marble columns w^hich sustained the 
 ceiling. Their capitals were highly wrought 
 and very beautiful, and the ceiling was orna- 
 mented in a neat manner, while the sky-light 
 was filled with stained glass. 
 
98 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 " How long were they in building this 
 edifice ? " asked Frank of his conductor. 
 
 "About a dozen years," was the reply, 
 " and it cost over a million of dollars." 
 
 They walked rapidly away from the Custom 
 House, soon after, and went into the Market 
 where the Skipper wished to purchase some 
 supplies for his vessel. Frank was pleased 
 with this edifice, and to the the immense 
 quantity and great variety of provisions offered 
 for sale, while his eye and ear were charmed 
 by the music of the caged birds, and the 
 fragrance of beautiful flowers in bouquets or 
 pots. 
 
 Once on board of the vessel again, Frank sat 
 down to write to his mother. He dated his 
 letter in Boston, told her the incidents of the 
 voyage, without however, mentioning the ves- 
 sel's name, or her Captain's, or even the port 
 from which they sailed. He did not fail to tell 
 of his narrow escape from death by drowning, 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 99 
 
 and of the bravery and humanity of the Cap- 
 tain in springing to his rescue. He told his 
 mother plainly that he wished her to under- 
 stand that he was with a friend, but preferred 
 to give her no clue to his future destination. 
 He said he should leave that port for another 
 very soon, so that it would be of no use for her 
 to write to him, though he would be glad to 
 hear that they were all well, and not offended 
 with him for the step that he had taken. He 
 hoped much from the future, was resolved to 
 be industrious, and thought he should be suc- 
 cessful, and go home some day to surprise 
 them, with a fortune to share with them. 
 
 It was a boy's letter, but it showed a man's 
 strength of purpose, and the mother, as she 
 read it, felt that her poor misguided son would 
 not come home till he was either successful or 
 very wretched. But it assured her of his 
 safety, and was thus better than nothing. 
 
 The next day the Flying Fish cast off from 
 
100 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 her moorings, and set sail for Marblehead. 
 The weather had changed and it was a fine, 
 Spring day. The sea-breeze was cool, but the 
 sun shone warm and bright. The wind and 
 tide rapidly propelled the snug little vessel 
 down the harbor, and she was accompanied by 
 a crowd of other crafts, of all classes and 
 dimensions. 
 
 " See those steamers ! " exclaimed Frank to 
 the Skipper as they stood near the helmsman, 
 and looked round on the lively scene. 
 
 " Yes ! How they cut through the water 
 like a duck, and leave that long line of foam 
 in their wake ! " 
 
 " Where are they going ? " asked Frank. 
 
 " Oh, they are bound to Portland, perhaps, 
 or to Baltimore or Phiadelphia. Don't you 
 wish you were on board of one on your way 
 back to Washington ? " >»► 
 
 " No, indeed. I mean to stay a long while 
 in Marblehead if I can get anything to do. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 101 
 
 " What can a youngster like you do ? Your 
 hands arc too white and soft." 
 
 " Work can make them hard and brown." 
 " So it will, my fine fellow, and you answer 
 as if you were not afraid of work. I dare say 
 you've been quite a help to your mother. I 
 don't see how she can spare you for long." 
 " I want to work for money to help her." 
 " Oh, that's it ? WeU, then I'll help you all 
 I can, and there's my hand on it. Ad. Martin 
 will always help a boy that wants to help his 
 mother." And he laid his hard, rough hand 
 in Frank's, while the tears actually came into 
 his eyes. There are no tenderer hearts than 
 those that beat under a monkey-jacket or a 
 red shirt, — hearts as soft as the hand may be 
 hard. Tlie rough children of Zebulon are as 
 sympathetic as any gentle daughter of Eve, 
 and there are no nobler natures than the sons 
 of the ocean. Those who labor for their 
 moral benefit have great reason to expect an 
 
102 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 abundant harvest from the good seed sown in 
 such soil, and God's promise still remains for- 
 ever sure, that " the abundance of the sea 
 shall be converted unto Him." 
 
 The Flying Fish sped rapidl}^ over the blue 
 waves to her destined port, and Frank's spirits 
 which had been a little depressed, (as the con- 
 versation with "True Blue" reminded him 
 that he was a runaway, and had not always 
 loved work, or been patient and industrious in 
 the performance of his duties), now rose to 
 their wonted height, and with a smiling coun- 
 tenance he watched the shores of Lynn, 
 Nahant, &c., and gladly perceived Marblehead 
 drawing nearer and nearer. The stiff breeze 
 which was then blowing from the north, took 
 them in with a rush, and soon they cast anchor 
 near a wharf. About a hundred yards ahead 
 of them, was a high cliff rising abruptly from 
 the water. 
 
 This is a good harbor, generally," said 
 " True Blue " to Frank. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 103 
 
 " Isn't k always ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; not in a northeast storm. IVe 
 heard my father say he'd seen twenty vessels 
 ashore at once, after such a storm, on that 
 beach yonder." j 
 
 The harbor is separated from the wide ocean, 
 whose tumultuous billows roll in their majesty 
 beyond, by a narrow and rocky peninsula. 
 It is about a mile and a half long, and half a 
 mile wide, easy of access, deep enough for a 
 frigate of many guns, and usually, as Skipper 
 Martin said, perfectly safe. 
 
 Frank looked with some curiosity upon the 
 ancient fishing town before him. 
 
 "It's a queer place — old Marblehead!" 
 exclaimed the skipper, " but you won't find a 
 more hospitable welcome anywhere, even from 
 the boys, though it used to be said of us that*- 
 we were a hard set. I've heard folks say that 
 Marblchead boys were as uncivilized as Hot- 
 tentots, and would throw stones at a stranger 
 
104 TIIE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 — ' rock ' him, we'd call it — just for the fun 
 of it. But all that is humbug, Thomas. The 
 boys, since my day, at any rate, are no worse 
 than other boys that live on the sea-shore and 
 learn to rough it like any old tar in their very 
 childhood. Why, I've seen boys no bigger 
 than you are, away out many a mile from 
 land in boats that they handled as well as I 
 could, almost." 
 
 " How long is it since Marblehead was first 
 settled ? " 
 
 " Over two centuries, at the least. It's an 
 old place, and to me a very dear one." 
 
 Frank soon went ashore with his friend. 
 Small boys in pea-jackets and rubber boots 
 met them at the landing, gave " True Blue " 
 a cordial greeting, by that title, and gazed 
 silently, but persistently, at Frank, who did 
 not fail to return the compliment. 
 
 Marblehead is built on a high and rocky 
 peninsula about four miles long and two in 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 105 
 
 breadth, with narrow, crooked streets, some of 
 them rather steep and stony. 
 
 " True Blue " took Frank to the house of 
 a friend, shortly after their arrival, saying, 
 " Here's a man that wants a boy to help him 
 make shoes." 
 
 " I'd like to be that boy if he thinks I can 
 do it." 
 
 " You can try, I suppose," said the man, 
 whose name was Bartlett, and whose benevo- 
 lent looking countenance assured Frank of 
 kindly treatment while in his charge. 
 
 " I am willing to try at once," said Frank ; 
 " I want to be earning something." 
 
 " He's got a widowed mother to help sup- 
 port," remarked True Blue by way of explana- 
 tion. 
 
 The bargain was soon made, and that very 
 night Frank took up his abode in the family 
 of his employer, to whom he was known by 
 the name of Thomas Evans. 
 
106 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 He wrote a letter that evening to Oscar, 
 telling him his prospects, but adding, " I don't 
 know but I am a fool after all to leave my 
 home. I wish I felt sure I was right." 
 
 To Frank's surprise and pleasure when he 
 got to the Post Oflfice, there was a letter for 
 Thomas Evans, and he soon found it was from 
 Oscar. It assured him that his mother and 
 sister were well, for Oscar had seen them that 
 day, yet not to speak with them, as they were 
 not aware that the sharp-eyed boy whom they 
 often saw near the house was the associate of 
 their dear Frank, and the boy whose evil in- 
 fluence had lured him from his home. Had 
 they known it, probably they would have en- 
 deavored to discover Frank's new home, 
 through him. 
 
 Frank felt relieved to know that his de- 
 parture had not made his home friends sick, 
 and with a lighter heart he went to work 
 next day. To do him justice, it must be said 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 107 
 
 he worked diligently aiid with good success. 
 Occasionally he saw True Blue, and wished he 
 was never going to leave Marblehead. But 
 the vessel was old, and he was soon about to 
 engage in the Navy, he said, if he could get a 
 chance. 
 
 Only a few days more of comparative peace 
 for the country, and then came the memorable 
 12th of April, 1861, when the guns of the 
 rebellious South were opened on Fort Sump- 
 ter, the largest fort in Charleston harbor, and 
 then under the command of Major Robert 
 Anderson. At half past four o'clock on that 
 Friday mornmg was the first gun fired, and a 
 brisk firing was kept up, till finally, being 
 without provisions and ammunition. Major 
 Anderson reluctantly hauled down the beauti- 
 ful flag of our country and surrendered the 
 Fort. Litelligence was rapidly conveyed to 
 the North, and the impression being that 
 Washington would be the next point of attack, 
 
108 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 President Lincoln issued a call for sevcnty-fi>'e 
 thousand men to protect the city. Massachu- 
 setts, with her usual promptness, responded at 
 once to the appeal, and Monday morning saw 
 a brave band of men starting from Marblehead 
 to defend their country and the right, as their 
 forefathers had defended it in the stormy 
 period of the Revolution. 
 
 Frank and his employer were both at hand 
 when the Marblehead company departed. 
 " True Blue " was, of course, among them. 
 With tears in his eyes, he grasped Frank's 
 hand, and said, " Good bye, my lad ! I'm 
 proud to have this privilege of defending the 
 dear old flag. If I don't come back again, 
 think of me as one that died for Liberty and 
 the Union." 
 
 " I wish I was big enough to go ! " said 
 Frank, and he heartily regretted that he had 
 left Washington, for, if there, even a boy 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 109 
 
 might have found something to do when the 
 cry of '^ To arms ! to arms 1 " was sounding aU 
 through the North, and brave hearts respond- 
 ed, " Welcome ! " 
 
CHAPTER YU. 
 
 THE NEW HOME. 
 
 RANK went back to his last. He 
 had learned to stitch the uppers 
 on to the soles pretty well, and 
 was progressing finely in his 
 new employment. He boarded, 
 as we have intimated, in the 
 family of his employer, and by 
 his pleasant ways and uniform excellent be- 
 havior, soon won the regard of those under 
 whose roof he dwelt. The children of the 
 family also loved him. They were much 
 younger than himself, so that their interest 
 seldom or never clashed as might have been 
 
 110 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. Ill 
 
 tlie case with older children. On the whole, 
 Frank had a tolerably pleasant home ; a much 
 pleasanter " berth," as " True Blue " would 
 have said, than a runaway deserved. 
 
 The influences about him were also of a de- 
 cidedly moral and religious character, and 
 with a view to make his mother feel happier 
 about his absence, Frank wrote to her in a let- 
 ter which he afterwards sent to Boston, and 
 had it there mailed to Washington, as follows : 
 
 " You will be glad to know, dear mother, 
 that the man for whom I work is a pious man. 
 He goes regularly to church every Sabbath, 
 and always wants me to go with him, and 
 sometimes I do ; in fact, I generally do, unless 
 I have a very interesting book to read, or do 
 not feel well enough. I don't mean for you to 
 worry about me. I'm well enough, except a 
 little headache or so, once in a while. True 
 Blue wouldn't call me sick as long as I could 
 * eat my allowance of grub,' as he would say." 
 
112 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 When Frank's mother read the last sentence 
 she wondered who True Blue could possibly 
 be, and said to Mary, " I wish we knew who 
 Frank means, for then we might get a clew to 
 his whereabouts. None of our acquaintances 
 go by that name." 
 
 Frank continued in his letter, "I hear 
 praying enough, if that will do me any good, 
 mother, for my employer always has prayers 
 in his family, night and morning, and some- 
 times in the evening ; prayer meetings are 
 held in his house, at which I'm always ex- 
 pected to be present. I want to please my 
 employer, for he gives me fair wages, and 
 treats me kindly, and so I'm always on the 
 spot, and if I do get tired of it sometimes, and 
 nod before the last prayer is over, why, how 
 can you blame a fellow like your Frank ! " 
 
 His mother smiled as she read all this, and 
 said to Mary, "I think the prayers will do 
 liim no harm. If he has got into a Christ- 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 113 
 
 ian family, I am truly glad and thankful. 
 God is good to me in thus sheltering my 
 wayward boy. I do hope that this family act 
 as well as pray in a Christian manner, for, 
 otherwise, Frank is sharp-sighted enough to^ 
 detect the hollowness of hypocrisy, and such 
 conduct would drive him from God rather 
 than attract him to our Heavenly Father." 
 
 " Yes, mother," answered Mary, " I hope 
 they are real Christians." 
 
 The Bartlctts were such Christians — such 
 hi heart and life as well as profession. They 
 lived their religion, and while they reverenced 
 the Sabbath, they did not keep their piety for 
 that one day of all the week, but every day 
 saw them in the quiet performance of the 
 active duties of Christianity. They did not 
 fall into the error of separating religion from 
 common life, and hence Frank respected their 
 piety, and their influence over him was de- 
 cidedly beneficial. 
 
114 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 Had they known that he was a runaway hoy, 
 no means would have been spared to induce 
 him to return to his mother, or to gain, if pos- 
 sible, her full consent to his remaining with 
 theni. But never giant guarded a cave, or 
 dragon a fairy castle, as the lovers of romance 
 have depicted them, more jealously than Frank 
 guarded his one secret. He was a changed 
 boy in many respects. New scenes, new em- 
 ployments, and above all, a sense of responsi- 
 bility which had been awakened in him, took 
 away much of the boy from him, and made 
 him by so much more a vian. Ordmarily, 
 this would have been undesirable. The happy 
 period of innocent childhood should not be 
 abridged, but, when it is, by the force of cir- 
 cumstances, or the human will, there is much 
 calm satisfaction in the fact that mature years 
 and thought bring also the delights of virtuous 
 maiiliood or womanhood, where the human 
 flower is nurtured tenderly in the Providence 
 of God. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 115 
 
 God cared lor Frank though he was a runa- 
 way boy. In His infinite pity He shielded 
 hun from many evils to which he was exposed 
 by his departure from his home and a loving 
 mothers care. But God did not design that- 
 Frank should be thus way^vard, and not suffer 
 for it. No man or boy can sin with impunity. 
 Sm and sorrow go hand in hand. Every evil 
 deed, as well as every good one, will receive 
 its just recompense of reward. Frank could 
 not escape from his wrong-doing, for as the 
 Scripture declares, " Be sure your sin will find 
 
 you out.'' 
 
 \Vlien True Blue went away to Washington, 
 Frank felt a little of the punishment he de- 
 served, or rather, he realized a little more the 
 consequences of his sin, in the deep and una- 
 vailing regret he felt that he was not at hand 
 to see all that was going on in Washington, 
 and, if need be, to aid his mother should the 
 city be attacked by rebels. However he dis- 
 
116 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 liked labor when at home, he felt that he 
 would gladly now toil hard if he could only be 
 there, and he closed his letter, from which we 
 have already taken two paragraphs, with the 
 words, " I shall be glad when I get money 
 enough to return to Washington, and take 
 care of you and Mary, in these war-times." 
 
 Strange, infatuated boy! If he had only 
 told his employer, money would have been 
 offered him to return, and his mother, with 
 tears in her eyes, said to Mary, " I wish we 
 knew where to direct to him, and I would 
 send him money to come home, immediately." 
 
 But Frank was a self-constituted exile from 
 home's sweet joys. His regret was unavoida- 
 ble upon reflection, for " the way of the trans- 
 gressor is hard," always. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Capitol City was fast becom- 
 ing the most military city on the Continent. 
 The President called for seventy-five thousand 
 men on the fifteenth of April. The free states 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. IIT 
 
 nobly responded. As early as the eighteenth 
 of April seventeen cars loaded with troops, in 
 all about six-hundred men, all armed and 
 equipped, arrived from Harrisburg, by the 
 way of Baltimore, and were quartered in 
 rooms in the Capitol. 
 
 Soon after, Frank received a letter from 
 Oscar, who, to do him justice, was very prompt 
 about writing to the boy he had injured by his 
 bad influence. Oscar was, as might be ex- 
 pected, " wide awake " about that time. " Oh 
 Frank ! I wish you were here ! " wrote he. 
 « In fact I was a fool to help you get away 
 when I couldn't or didn't go with you, for I 
 miss you now, m these exciting times. Only 
 think ! the other day they deposited a lot of 
 new stuff in the Treasury building. What do 
 you think it was? You're a greeny, if you 
 think it was gold. But then I shouldn't won- 
 der if you couldn't guess. 
 First let me tell you there's any quantity 
 
118 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 of soldiers right in the Capitol building, eating 
 there and sleeping there and dwelling there. 
 And the Treasury department holds their 
 provisions. There's any quantity there ; bar- 
 rels full of white beans, barrels of sugar, sacks 
 of coffee, &c., &c. Uncle Sam might keep 
 store if he wanted to. All round the General 
 Post Office are stored hundreds of barrels of 
 pork and other army supplies. 
 
 The avenues to the city had been guarded 
 and closely watched day and night. They 
 planted cannon in commanding positions, so as 
 to sweep the river if the rebels dared to attack 
 us. The Mayor — you know him, Berret — 
 Mayor Berret, he issued a proclamation for all 
 good citizens and sojourners to be careful so to 
 conduct themselves as neither by word or deed 
 to give occasion for any breach of the peace. 
 
 And, I can tell you, Frank, we were pretty 
 anxious here, when we heard of the rascally 
 conduct of some of those Baltimore secession- 
 
THE RUxNAWAY BOY. 119 
 
 ists, and how they shot Massachusetts men 
 right down in the street. We didn't know 
 but that the same scenes would be acted over 
 here m Washington. I hardly slept a wink 
 till the New York Seventh Regiment arrived 
 on the twenty-seventh. I wasn't frightened, 
 old fellow, you needn't think so, but I couldn't 
 sleep, and I guess the men couldn't either. I 
 never saw my father so uneasy. 
 
 Oh, Frank ! I wish you had been here when 
 that New York regiment marched up Pennsyl- 
 vania avenue, preceded by their band. They 
 did make a fine appearance, I can tell you. 
 And all folks acted as if they were half crazy 
 with joy as they saw them. The men cheered, 
 and the women waved their handkerchiefs. I 
 heard a lot of darkey women cheering as loud 
 as anybody, and one of 'em hollored out, 
 * We'll be free, hurrah ! ' I saw one rough 
 looking fellow shake his fist at her, but she 
 only hollered out, * I'se mighty 'fraid you're a 
 
120 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 secessionist!' and he bolted. Some of 'em 
 would have hustled him if he hadn't. 
 
 And in a few days after, who do you think I 
 saw among the soldiers ? But of course you 
 know. I learned that the Eighth Massachu- 
 setts Regiment was there, and a Marblehead 
 company in it, and I hunted round to find 
 somebody that might know him, and lo ! there 
 he was himself. Wasn't I glad to see him ? 
 But I'd be more glad to see you. Keep up a 
 good heart, and come home with a fortune 
 when you come." 
 
 This letter did not cheer Frank. He was 
 saddened by it. In fact he looked so sad 
 about it, that Mrs. Bartlett kindly asked him 
 if he was sick. He answered "No," and 
 then, asking to be excused from the table, he 
 went up stairs to his lonely bed, where no 
 mother would come to tuck him up and hear 
 him say his prayers as in his younger days, 
 and as he thought of her and his home, the 
 
"m.. '"^^ 
 
 Fnuik and Ills letter. PaL,'<- 120. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 121 
 
 fountain of tears was loosed, and he buried 
 his face in his pillow and wept as if his heart 
 would break. He was unhappy, but he was 
 not penitent yet. For even then he did not 
 have it in his heart to return to his mother. 
 He was only like the prodigal son in finding 
 that he had husks to eat instead of the bread 
 of contentment. But not yet did his heart 
 echo the words, " I will arise and go unto my 
 father, and say unto him, Father, I have 
 sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and 
 are no more worthy to be called thy son." 
 He put Oscar's letter out of sight, for it 
 pained him to see it, and next day sat down 
 on his bench, to make shoes, with a heavy 
 heart. 
 
CHAPTER Ym. 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 RANK did not answer Oscar's 
 letter immediately, it awoke so 
 many unpleasant thoughts, but 
 before long the latter wrote 
 again. His mind was on the 
 alert, with such stirring scenes 
 all around him, and he was 
 having a portion of his punishment for urging 
 Frank to go away, in the longing desire he had 
 to see and commune with one whose ready 
 sympathy he knew he possessed, and the an- 
 swering reflection that his own evil deed had 
 deprived him of the friend he prized. 
 
 122 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 123 
 
 So he fled to his pen for refuge from these 
 dreary thoughts, and thus Frank had another 
 description of the scenes occurring at his 
 Washington home. Oscar wrote, after men- 
 tioning that Frank's mother and sister were in^ 
 good health and their house well filled with 
 boarders, some of them the wives of officers in 
 the Union army who were stationed at Wash- 
 ington, as follows : 
 
 " I wish you were here to go with me to 
 camp. There are troops on Arlhigton heights, 
 and camps in various places on this side the 
 Potomac, and on the heights opposite, in 
 Virginia. 
 
 Oh Frank ! I went with father, on the 
 night of the twenty-third of May, out to one 
 of the camps. He had some official business, 
 and had a pass. It was a glorious night. 
 The full moon was shining," — 
 
 Frank paused, as he read, and tried to 
 
124 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 remember where he was, himself, on that 
 evenmg, and finally recollected that he went 
 to carry some shoes to the manufactory by 
 whom liis employer was supplied with work, 
 and that the weather was so beautiful, the 
 calm moonlight so enchanting, that he lin- 
 gered on his way, and, finally, when he had 
 done his errand, he walked down to the shore, 
 and stood a long while looking off upon the 
 moon-lit waves, watching the dancing ripples 
 beneath the silvery light, but all the while 
 feeling an indescribable sadness and loneliness, 
 as the thought of his far-off home, and his 
 own waywardness smote on his soul like the 
 stroke of a lance on a molten shield which 
 would send back an answering ring. The 
 response to such a reflection could not be 
 otherwise than painful. He left the narrow 
 beach, and turned away into the uneven 
 streets. Soon he passed pedestrians hurrying 
 along, then groups of boys loudly talking of 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 125 
 
 vessels and fishing, or the soldiers and the 
 war, and finally he came to a large edifice set, 
 as it were, in the center of a square, each end 
 alike with similar high steps and wide entran- 
 ces. Every Marblehead boy will recognize the 
 building. He sat down upon the steps. 
 Along the street was heard a confused noise 
 of rapid feet and merry voices. A bevy of 
 boys were hastening up the street. As they 
 drew nearer, one of them called out in a loud 
 voice, heard far above all the din of the others, 
 " Frank ! Frank ! where are you, Frank ? " 
 
 Impulsively, and utterly forgetting his new 
 and assumed name of Thomas, and with his 
 mind still so intent on Washington and Oscar, 
 Frank rose to his feet and gave 'an answering 
 shout, " Here, boys ! here I am ! '* 
 
 The sound of his own voice broke the spell. 
 He did not repeat tlie shout. He felt that he 
 was an impostor, going about Marblehead as he 
 was, with an assumed name. He realized how 
 
126 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 mean it was thus to deceive, and the loss of 
 self-respect was the consequence of the re- 
 flection. The many light-hearted boys, who 
 had not heeded his reply to the shout of one 
 of their number, went on their way to their 
 pleasant homes, and the poor self-exiled runa- 
 way sat down again upon those steps, in the 
 clear moonlight, and wept long and bitterly. 
 " What a fool I was ! " thought he, " and how 
 mean and wicked ! " 
 
 Now, as he read Oscar's letter, and looked 
 back to the night of the full moon, he remem- 
 bered all this, and the same sense of deep 
 wretchedness came over him, like a salt and 
 bitter wave which would not only submerge 
 his joyousness but which he must taste, and 
 suffer in tasting. He swallowed his emotion, 
 literally, and went on with the letter. 
 
 " The full moon was shining and it was per- 
 fectly quiet. We stayed till long after mid- 
 night, and saw some of the troops silently 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 127 
 
 marching to their new stations. You ought to 
 liavc seen them wlicn they marched along in 
 the moonlight. Their bright bayonets gleam- 
 ing in the silver rays, looked strikingly beauti- 
 ful, as my father afterwards told raotlier. We 
 came home about two o'clock in the morning, 
 and met on our way a large body of troops 
 going to Arlington Heights. 
 
 The next day our troops took possession of 
 Alexandria. They went from here in two 
 steamers, and landed at Alexandiia pretty near 
 where the ' Flying Fish ' was, when you went 
 on board. They called those soldiers who 
 went there Zouaves, on account of their pecu- 
 liar dress and drill. Their leader was Colonel 
 Ellsworth, a young man, but father says, one 
 of the bravest of men, and of good principles. 
 There never was such a set of men as those 
 Zouaves, so our boys all think — they were so 
 perfect in drill. But only think I — and per- 
 haps you've already heard it from the papers 
 
128 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 — that brave young Colonel was killed on that 
 very expedition. He was shot by a rascally 
 proprietor of a hotel. Colonel Ellsworth went 
 upon the hotel, and took down the secession 
 flag which was there. He wrapped it around 
 himself and started to come down again. As 
 he was coming down the stairs, the landlord 
 of the Marshall house where he was, fired at 
 him and killed the brave Colonel. One of his 
 men who stood near — I believe his name is 
 Brownell, fired back on the landlord, and killed 
 him. The body of Colonel Ellsworth was 
 brought to Washington, and the funeral ser- 
 vices performed at the White House. Oar 
 noble President was chief mourner. I went to 
 the funeral, and to see the body of the brave 
 defender of the stars and stripes. I declare I 
 felt bad, Frank, and I wished I was a year or 
 uo older, and that father would let me enlist. 
 I tell you what, old fellow, if this war lasts I 
 
THE UUNAWAY BOY. 129 
 
 mean to be a soldier and fight for my country. 
 I wish you were as old as I am, and both of us 
 as free as you are to-day.'* 
 
 Now came another twinge to Frank's con- 
 science, lie knew that the freedom from 
 parental restraint which he possessed, but 
 which we cannot say he enjoyed, was wrongly 
 obtained, and he felt that he could not expect 
 to be happy in exercising it. But he put 
 away such thoughts, as well as he could, and 
 read on. 
 
 " I saw True Blue the other day, Frank, 
 and he asked me if I had seen your folks, and 
 told them all he told me about you, and then 
 he said he would like to see them so as to tell 
 you about it, when his three months are up, 
 and he goes back to Marblehead. I turned 
 the subject then for fear he would insist upon 
 it, and you know that would never do. 
 I shall bluff him off some way if he says 
 
130 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 much more. But I must close this long letter, 
 hopmg to hear from you very soon. 
 I remain your old chum, 
 
 Oscar." 
 
 Frank sat almost motionless after he had done 
 reading this letter, and finally the tears gath- 
 ered in his eyes. His employer sat at his 
 work-bench not far away The little boy — the 
 son of his employer — who had brought Frank 
 the letter, was standing at his father's side, 
 spelUng out a lesson in his reading book, and 
 his father ever and anon, paused in his work 
 of waxing ends, using the awl, or pulling 
 through the thread, as he diligently sewed the 
 shoes he was making, and helped his little boy 
 over the rough places in his road to knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 Mr. Bartlett noticed Frank's emotion as he 
 read the letter, but he said not a word till he 
 saw the crystal drops gather on the quivering 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. IBl 
 
 eyelids. Tlien he spoke iii a kind and gentle 
 tone, " Thomas, lad, have you sad news from 
 home?" 
 
 " No, sir," answered Frank 
 " Your mother is well ? " 
 " Yes, sir, and my sister, too. My letter is 
 from an old playmate." 
 
 " You seem troubled about it. Can I aid 
 you in any way to make you feel better ? " 
 
 "No, sir, I think not. The letter makes 
 me rather homesick." 
 
 "Poor boy! no wonder! But cheer up, 
 you wiU go home by-and-by, with something 
 handsome to give your mother, if you keep on 
 being industrious as you have been. You do 
 remarkably well for a youngster. Look on 
 the bright side, and trust in God. Yoiu- 
 heavenly Father keeps an eye over you. As 
 True Blue would say, he ' keeps a sharp look- 
 out' for his children." 
 
 Frank did not answer to this, " but alas ! " 
 
132 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 thought he, " I'm not oue of his children, at 
 any rate, I'm not a good one, and I ought to 
 be. I wish I could reform, or start anew some 
 way, for now I am so unhappy." 
 
 Not many days after he resolved to write to 
 Oscar. He took the pen and mk, which Mr. 
 Bartlett kindly lent him, to his own room 
 where he had some paper, and, putting his 
 lamp on an old chest of drawers which were 
 there, he stood and wrote to his former play- 
 mate. He contrasted, mentally, the con- 
 veniences for writing which he had on this 
 occasion with the comfortable, cosy little 
 sitting room, at his home, where, in an easy 
 chair, he could sit at the great secretary and 
 write with comfort. Now, he could expect 
 none of these things. He was simply a hired 
 boy under his employer's roof, hardly earning 
 his board and clothes, by almost incessant 
 labor, and not possessing any right to 
 expect any convenience or elegant ease. 
 
'" THE RUNAWAY BOY. 133 
 
 Littlo back-parlors, and prettily furnished 
 library rooms, must give way to an attic of 
 small dimensions, and limited accommoda- 
 tions in the way of furniture. But it was 
 what Frank had choosen in choosing to run 
 away from home. He was coming to realize 
 this to a painful degree, and through his 
 privations — though they were comparatively 
 small, — to learn that 
 
 ' In the path alone of Dimr 
 Can the immortal mind repose, 
 
 Peace dwells there and there, In beauty, 
 Sharon's lovely flow'ret grows." 
 
 He wrote with a heavy heart to Oscar. 
 " My old friend," said he, " your letters are 
 welcome, but they make me long to be back 
 in Washington, especially just now. I fear I 
 did a very foolish thing in running away, but 
 I don't know that I want to return yet. In 
 one of your letters you said the boys are quite 
 
134 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 interested in my welfare, are glad I got off so 
 easy, and am doing so well, only they would 
 like to have some fan with me. Tell them 
 never to follow my example. I don't mean to 
 back out, but I am not happy as a runaway, 
 and I'd just as lief you knew it as not. I tell 
 you a fellow feels mean running round the 
 world under an assumed name, and I want to 
 hear from my mother, too, You may laugh, 
 as you used to about such things, and say I'm 
 * tied to my mother's apron strings ' but there's 
 nothing like having a mother to love you and 
 look after you. A fellow may get tired of 
 being dictated to sometimes, and long for his 
 freedom, but a mother is something a boy 
 prizes when he does get away. I dare say 
 there's many and many a boy to-night, who 
 wishes he had a mother to care for him as ten- 
 derly as mine did for me, and would give all 
 the world to have her where they could get to 
 her, instead of having her dear form under 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 135 
 
 the sod. Oscar, this change of my life, this 
 experience may be making a better boy of me. 
 At any rate it mukes a soberer and sadder one. 
 I will not write any more of this, it makes my 
 heart ache so. 
 
 Give my respects to True Blue. Don't let 
 him see my mother. I can't bear to have him 
 know that I'm a runaway." 
 
 Frank then described his daily tasks, spoke 
 of the war just then begun, and finally closed 
 with, " If the war lasts I hope I shall serve my 
 country too, and fight for the honor of the 
 dear old flag. 
 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 Frank Nelson, 
 
 alias, Thomas Evans. 
 
 P. S. Don't it seem like a criminal to have 
 an alias ? " 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A CHANGE. 
 
 T last the time came when 
 True Bkie was to return. 
 The three months men were 
 to see their homes again. 
 Tliey had fulfilled their term 
 of service, had been of no 
 little use in protecting the 
 Capitol, and had won the good opinion of all 
 loyal men, and the thanks of the country for 
 the promptness, energy, and fidelity which 
 marked their brief military career. Many of 
 them re-enlisted, but some of them who had 
 been summoned like Coriolanus from liis 
 
 136 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 137 
 
 plough, at tho call of the President, to leave 
 their daily business, found it absolutely neces- 
 sary that they should return home and attend 
 to it again, or, if they were yet needed to save 
 their country, to make requisite preparations 
 for closing it up in a commendable manner. 
 
 War, and the dangers of war, were new 
 things to the generation now called to the 
 stern duties of patriotism, and therefore more 
 than wonted anxiety was felt by those who 
 gave up their dear ones at the call of Liberty, 
 and on their return each face was bright and 
 each heart jubilant. 
 
 The balmy air of the " soft, summer time " 
 was stirred by the musical voices of the bells, 
 ringing^ a glad welcome. The deep mouthed 
 cannon bayed on Salem Common, and all 
 around, wakening the echoes along the rocky 
 shores of Marblehead, and telling the toil-woni 
 and travel-worn soldiers that they were hon- 
 ored gucbts, for that time, in their own dear 
 
138 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 homes. Civil and municipal authorities vied 
 with each other in furnishing the escort and 
 the eloquence which should assure the brave 
 men, who had not hesitated to peril then- lives 
 for their country's existence, that their sacri- 
 fices were appreciated, and tables loaded with 
 dainty viands awaited those who had left 
 home's comforts and luxuries for government 
 rations in knapsack, or by camp fires. 
 
 Frank was on the qui vive to see his good 
 friend. He was anxious too, about it, for he 
 did not know whether Oscar had succeeded in 
 refusing the wish of True Blue to see the 
 mother of the boy Thomas whom he had saved 
 from drowning, and for whom he therefore felt 
 a deeper interest. One glimpse art; True 
 Blue's honest, open countenance, as he stepped 
 from the car, and glancing right and left, 
 caught the eye of his young friend, assured 
 Frank, that whatever he might know of his 
 misdeeds, at any rate his heart was as friendly 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 139 
 
 as ever. Frank pushed his way through the 
 crowd, and caught the hand of the hrave sailor- 
 
 soldier. 
 
 "Thomas, my boy! how are you? You 
 look hearty, my old shipmate. Old Marble- 
 head must agree with you." 
 
 " But I fear Washington didn't with you. 
 You look pale and sick." 
 
 " That's a fact, my boy ; I'm too much of a 
 sailor to be healthy alongshore. The warm 
 weather on land has taken the wind out of my 
 sails. I can't march as well as I could when 
 I went away. Didn't Oscar write you that I 
 had been sick ? " 
 
 «No," answered Frank, "he wrote about 
 
 you, but not that." 
 
 « Did he tell you that I wanted to see your 
 mother before I left, so as to bring you the 
 latest news ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Frank, " he wrote about that, 
 and — , " Frank hesitated. He could not tell 
 
1-iO THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 a deliberate falsehood, and add that he hoped 
 he had, or that he had wished him to do so. 
 
 So he paused, and blushed, actually blush- 
 ed — , but True Blue, did not notice it and 
 went on — , 
 
 " I was too sick to go, finally, toward the 
 last of my being there, and I had to give it up, 
 but I didn't want to. You'll excuse me ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " said Frank, blithely, for he was 
 really glad that True Blue had learned no 
 more about his true name and character. 
 Just then, some other friends came up to wel- 
 come True Blue, and soon the time which was 
 given to the soldiers, in which to greet their 
 friends on arrival, was at an end, and they 
 were ordered to " fall in " and, proceeded by a 
 band of music, they marched away from the 
 depot. 
 
 True Blue remained so feeble that he did 
 not like to enlist again, either in the army or 
 navy. But as the summer days glided away 
 
TIIL RUNAWAY BOY. 141 
 
 ho seemed to grow sti'oiiger, Frank saw a 
 great deal of him, for he was often at Mr. 
 Bartlett's and not unfrequently invited his 
 young friend to go out on the water with him 
 on those brief piscatory excursions which True 
 Blue enjoyed so much, and which he regarded 
 as particularly beneficial to his health, and 
 very possibly they did conduce to his recovery. 
 
 One morning he came to Mr. Bartlett's and 
 inquired for Frank. " He is out sawing and 
 splitting wood," was Mrs. Bartlett's reply. 
 
 " He is rather industrious, isn't he ? " asked 
 True Blue. 
 
 " Yes, generally," ^ic replied ; " in fact, he 
 never objects to doing anything that I ask him 
 to do, though sometimes I can see that he 
 moves about it, as if it were some sort of 
 drudgery." 
 
 I " He evidently has never worked a great 
 deal," said True Blue, " but he seems willing 
 to pull an oar with the rest. I want him to 
 
142 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 pull one with me to-day. I want to go out on 
 the water again." 
 
 " Your element, Skipper ? " 
 
 " Yes, my element, Mrs. Bartlett, if you 
 will call it so. I love the ocean. I love to 
 be rocked on its mighty bosom. A ship is a 
 jolly cradle to me, and I don't care if I'm out 
 of sight of land for days together." 
 
 " Why don't you go in the Navy ? " 
 
 " I'm going, Mrs. Bartlett, as soon as I get 
 well enough." 
 
 Just then Frank entered. " Going where ? " 
 asked he, having heard only True Blue's last 
 words, and feeling alarmed lest he was about 
 to lose his friend again. 
 
 " Going to fish off Nahant, if I can get 
 Thomas Evans to go with me. I want to be 
 gone two or three days." 
 
 " Can Mr. Bartlett spare me ? " asked 
 Frank, looking delighted at the proposal. 
 
 " I hope so," was the sympathising response 
 from Mrs. Bartlett. " Shall I go and see ? " 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 143 
 
 "No, ma'am," answered Frank, "he will 
 tell me the same that he would you, and if he 
 need me I don't want to go and incommode 
 him." 
 
 So Frank went boldly to the shoemaker, and 
 asked if he might be spared for several days to 
 go with Skipper Martin. 
 
 " He's as fine a fellow as ever trod a quar- 
 ter-deck," answered Mr. Bartlett. " I can get 
 along without you for a while, and for liis sake, 
 as well as your own, I'll say ' 7/^5.' " Mr. 
 Bartlett looked up with a benevolent smile, 
 and Frank felt that he had a better employer 
 than he desei-ved. 
 
 So they went away together — True Blue 
 who would have scorned to do a mean action, 
 and Frank Nelson who had wilfully placed 
 himself in a false position, and was a way- 
 ward, misguided, runaway boy. In after life, 
 as he should look back on those years, he 
 would be sure to feel that God was better to 
 
144 THE EUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 him than he deserved, in giving him such a 
 judicious, excellent friend, when the general 
 inference would be that only evil companions 
 would gather about a truant from his home. 
 But Frank was not a bad boy in the maui ; 
 that is, he was not specially vicious in his 
 tastes and habits, he was weak and wayward, 
 impatient of restraint, and easily influenced 
 for good or evil. 
 
 " How are you going ? " asked Frank, as the 
 twain pursued their way to the wharf. 
 
 " In the little sloop we went on board of, 
 the other day — the Clio." 
 
 "How happens it she goes round to 
 Nahant?" 
 
 " Oh, she's got to go to Swampscot ; and we 
 can make a home in her, and then go out fish- 
 ing from her." 
 
 " I understand ; " said Frank, " that's capi- 
 tal!" 
 
 They went on board the snug little craft, 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 145 
 
 and were soon on their way. Only two men 
 were on board who belonged to the vessel, and 
 one young dandy who was a passenger, and 
 had evidently never been out to sea before, 
 and hardly ever smelt salt water. How he 
 came in Marblehead in that ignorant plight 
 seemed a mystery, for the very air of the rocky 
 promontory was ever redolent of nautical life 
 and experiences. But so it was, and the 
 dandy was hopelessly "green,'' as Frank 
 thought, while True Blue slily whispered, 
 "He's a land-lubber, and wo shall have fun 
 before he sails far." 
 
 Sure enough they did. Soon after the sloop 
 was under way, it became necessary to " 'bout 
 ship," and while tacking it was requisite that 
 a rope, which was fastened aft should be made 
 loose, that the sail might change in order to 
 catch the wind. It was equally necessary that 
 this should be done in good season when the 
 helm was moved for a change in the vessel's 
 
146 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 course, or the wind might strike the sail in a 
 different from the desired manner, and either 
 capsize the boat or vessel, or, at any rate, 
 defeat the end in view. 
 
 When they were about to tack, the skipper 
 of the bonny little craft sang out, " Look 
 sharp, there ! stand by to let go that sheet." 
 
 " Aye, aye sir I " shouted True Blue, and 
 sprang to the post of duty. Frank watched 
 the movements with intelligent interest. The 
 dandy looked on in silent wonder, and a little 
 timidity. 
 
 " Let go ! " shouted the Skipper, and looked 
 round towards those who were standing near 
 the sheets. The dandy thought he looked at 
 him, and ere the stentorian voice died away, 
 he half-tremblingly answered, with a look of 
 helpless and hopeless ignorance on his face, 
 " I ain't aw touchin' any thin', aw! " 
 
 True Blue skilfully executed the order at 
 once, but meanwhile he had observed the com- 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 147 
 
 ical look of the surprised ignoramus, and 
 heard the response, and he " could not keep 
 in,-', as he afterwards said, but shouted with 
 exuberant mirth, while Frank roared with 
 laughter. The other men joined in chorus, 
 but the dandy remained in blissful uncon- 
 sciousness of the cause of their mirth, and 
 looked vacantly off upon the ocean. It was a 
 long while before Frank and True Blue recov- 
 ered their equilibrium. Their risibilities 
 seemed to have been permanently disturbed. 
 When there was a lull in their glee, one would 
 roguishly whisper to the other, " I ain't aw 
 touchin' anythin, aw," and put on an idiotic 
 stare, and then their mirthfulness would boil 
 over again. 
 
 " It wont hurt us to laugh," said True Blue, 
 " its good for me, and the Good Book says ' a 
 merry heart doeth good like a medicine.' " 
 
 A heavy fog came rolling in from the ocean 
 not long after they left Marblehead harbor, 
 
148 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 but they held on tlieir course. The sea was 
 disturbed, heavy, surghig waves tossing the 
 little vessel like a playtliing on its bosom. 
 "What makes the waves so large,'* asked 
 Frank, " when the wind is so light as we have 
 it now ? " 
 
 " Oh," replied True Blue " it's always so 
 when there's a fog. I suppose fog causes it, 
 but I don't know why. There's a great many 
 things about the ocean man cannot compre- 
 hend. The Atlantic is a study for a lifetime, 
 and then you'll only get into your abs." 
 
 As they sailed along they heard a horn. 
 "That's the Nelly Bilker's horn!" said the 
 Skipper. " She's early coming in, and she's 
 got caAight in tlie fog." 
 
 An answering horn was heard from the 
 Nahant sliore. Working their way slowly 
 in, the Clio at last came to an anchor in 
 Swampscot harbor. After a while the fog 
 lifted, and then the anchor was raised, and the 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 149 
 
 vessel moved in to her proper moorings. Tho 
 moorings consisted of a heavy iron chain 
 fastened to a rock weighing several tons, 
 which, years before, liad been taken from tho 
 neighboring beach, and dropped to tho bottom 
 of the bay. The sailors knew its whereabouts, 
 because its position was indicated on the sur- 
 face of the harbor, by a cask attached to a 
 stout rope, and the manner of securing the 
 vessel to her was to haul the cask on board, 
 and make it fast on deck. Thus the vessel 
 was held to her place, only swinging lazily to 
 and fro with the tide. 
 
 Swampscot is a village near Lynn, and has 
 a fleet of some fifty or sixty fishing sloops and 
 schooners, each of wliich has her own moor- 
 ings indicated as above mentioned, or by somo 
 sort of a buoy, and fastened generally to two 
 old, large ship's anchors. 
 
 Swampscot has an Indian name, and was 
 once a favorite resort of the aborigines. Here 
 
150 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 they had a village of their rude huts. Tlie 
 name of the tribe is said to have been " Aber- 
 gonians, " and at the time the English colony 
 was settled here, they were governed by a 
 female chief — a " Squaw Sachem." Ancient 
 records show that from 1634 to 1641, it was 
 occupied as a farm by Sir John Humphrey, 
 one of the original patentees of Massachusetts. 
 For over two hundred years it was a part of 
 Lynn. Only a dozen years ago, or so, it was a 
 small fishing village, unprepossessing in its 
 appearance, but romantically situated with 
 beaches, coves, and rocky points, that were 
 exceedingly picturesque, and attracted the 
 summer sojourners of Nahant. It was a droll, 
 queer place, then, and some one says was 
 " very like the Scotch fishing village described 
 in ' the Antiquary.' " 
 
 But all this is changed. Now it is a fine 
 looking, populous, flourishing town, with 
 handsome houses, clean streets, and along its 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 151 
 
 rocky shores and beaches are some of the 
 most elegant sea-side mansions in the State 
 — charming retreats from the noise and bustle 
 of the busy world, and from the sultry heat 
 and close, confined air of our tlironged cities. 
 
 " Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds 
 Exhilarate the spirits, and restore 
 The tone of languid nature. Mighty winds, 
 That sweep the skirt of some fair-speaking wood 
 Of ancient gro^vth, make music not unlike 
 The dash of ocean on his winding shore, 
 And lull the spirit while they fiU the mind," 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 ON BOARD THE CUO. 
 
 ^CARCELY was the Clio safe at 
 ^3 her moorings ere the sea-fog 
 settled slowly and surely around 
 them again. It was afternoon, 
 and True Blue had designed to 
 spend some time in rowing 
 around the shore. He was 
 obliged now to give that project up, and so he 
 set himself busily at work to prepare fishing 
 apparatus for himself and Frank. It was not 
 difficult to do this, for every article needed 
 was on board m duplicate, and many dupli- 
 cated forms. There was fresh bait also on 
 
 152 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 153 
 
 board in the shape of clams yet in the shell, 
 and so far from being bereft of the low form 
 of life which they possess, were clapping and 
 snapping and grinding their shells occasion- 
 ally, apparently at one another, or, to say in 
 clam-language, " I'm not dead yet,'' which is 
 the vulgar version of Daniel Webster's 
 sublimely expressive final words, " I still live." 
 They baited hooks with some of these clams, 
 and threw them overboard. Frank's line 
 seemed to stretch, and the hook to be in the 
 grasp of some finny creature, and he pulled 
 rapidly away, hand over hand, bringing up 
 finally to the surface, to his surprise and dis- 
 appointment, only a large bunch of sea-weed. 
 
 True Blue was a little more fortunate. He, 
 too, pulled vigorously as soon as he felt a bite, 
 and drew up a large sculpin. " Here's a 
 grubby for you ! " shouted he. " The New 
 Yorkers call it a toad-fish." 
 
 The specimen lay gaspuig on the deck, its 
 
154 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 great, staring, goggle eyes, with their black 
 pupils and golden irides, giving it a ridiculoas 
 appearance. 
 
 " How brightly colored its fins are," ex- 
 claimed Frank, " and its tail, too ? But it is 
 far from handsome. In fact, if it was as large 
 as it is ugly, it would be perfectly frightful." 
 
 " Just so," responded True Blue. " He's a 
 lazy thing, too. He swims but little, and 
 spends his time lying on the bottom with his 
 fins open waiting for his grub to come along. 
 He'll eat anything, and bite at a hook no 
 matter how it is baited. And he never tries 
 to get off the hook. In short he acts like an 
 idiot." 
 
 " Is the sculpin good to eat. True Blue ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know, Thomas : I've heard 
 some say he was fit to cook, but I shouldn't 
 want to eat him, if I could get any better food. 
 I got hungry after fi^esh fish, once, while I was 
 away with the three months' men, and I don't 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 155 
 
 know but I would have catcu a sculpin then, 
 if I could have got one." 
 
 " The camp-ground near Washington was a 
 different place from this blue water, and the 
 rocking you like so well must have been great-. 
 ly missed." 
 
 " Yes, Thomas, but I don't regret for a mo- 
 ment that I went. My country called me, 
 and Ad. Martin wont wait for his country to 
 call him twice when he hears her the first 
 time. Did I ever tell you that I saw the 
 President one day ? " 
 
 " No, nerer, except once when you were all 
 marching, or on review, you said he was look- 
 ing at you. I suppose you mean some other 
 time." 
 
 " Yes, I mean once when I was all alone. 
 I was walking near the White House, and the 
 great and good man came out. He had his 
 yomigest son by the hand. Little Willie seem- 
 ed very happy, and his father seemed so kind. 
 
156 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 I was taken aback to see him so familiar-like, 
 so like any other kind and good man, that 
 wasn't a President. I forgot myself, and 
 stood staring at them till he raised his eyes 
 and looked at me. Then I woke up, and 
 made a salute. Only think he returned my 
 salute with a polite bow, and I went on, feel- 
 ing jDroud of having been noticed in any way 
 by Abraham Lincoln." 
 
 Frank listened to this narrative with inter- 
 est, but yet with a pang at the thought that 
 he might have been nearer to the President, 
 and perhaps have had a bow, too, from him if 
 he had not choosen foolishly to be a runaway. 
 Both he and True Blue mourned with the 
 President when that little Willie went up to 
 join the angels, and the heart of the nation's 
 chief was desolate in his loss. 
 
 True Blue and Frank kept on fishing, till 
 they had caught about a dozen cunners, and 
 they then paused and cleaned their prey for 
 supper. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 157 
 
 "'These look some like pond-fish," said 
 Frank. 
 
 " Yes, Thomas, they do, and some call them 
 sea-perch. But I generally hear them called 
 dinners or nippers." 
 
 "Why call them nippers? because they 
 have such a nipping bite ?'* 
 
 " I suppose so, Thomas. The New Yorkers 
 call them * bergall's* — a Dutch name, I guess. 
 But the Indian name is ' chogset.' " 
 
 " I think it has names enough for so small a 
 fish," remarked Frank, musingly. 
 
 " That isn't all. A man told me that in a 
 book he read once, it was said that the Boston 
 folks call them *blue perch.' But I never 
 heard anybody call them so." 
 
 And True Blue proceeded to prepare his 
 fish for the frying-pan by stripping oil the 
 skin, leaving the flesh white and delicate. 
 
 Toward sunset the fog which had been 
 rather midesirable 
 
158 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 " Rose up in many a spectral shape 
 And crept away in silence o'er the waves. 
 
 The sea, from silvery white to deepest blue, 
 Changed 'neath the changing colors of the sky ; 
 
 The distant lighthouse broke upon the view 
 And the long land-points spread before the eye." 
 
 True Blue and Frank went on deck, after 
 their supper of fried cunners, which tasted 
 well enough for an epicure, and threw them- 
 selves down on some ropes near the stern, 
 where they could lie quietly and gaze upon 
 the sky and shore and the restless billows of 
 the great, wide sea. 
 
 Frank felt unusually calm and contented. 
 Out there, swinging at anchor, he seemed cut 
 adrift from ordinary pursuits, and lifted above 
 daily cares and the ceaseless reproaches of his 
 conscience, and for awliile he forgot that he 
 was a wayward youth who had too soon and 
 too rudely snapped the cords that bound him 
 to home and a mother. He did love out-door 
 life. He was learning to love the freedom of 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 1^9 
 
 an ocean-life, and so when True Blue proposed 
 that he should go with him out on a fishing 
 cruise to the Banks of Newfoundland, he glad- 
 ly assented. True Blue thought Frank's em- 
 l)k)yer would not object, and would give him 
 work just the same on his return. 
 
 " How beautiful the picture is before us ! " 
 exclaimed True Blue, who, like many a sailor 
 who may seem in his characteristic roughness 
 careless of such things, was a dear lover of 
 the beautiful in art or nature. Frank looked 
 AN here he pointed, saw the indentations of the 
 coast, — you could hardly call it a harbor, — 
 and the small, white fishing houses all along 
 the shore of the shallow bay, and the wooded 
 slopes of the green hills dotted by ornamental 
 cottages and elegant villas, while the golden 
 glory of the sunset hour lighted the whole 
 scene, and made it a picture of surpassing 
 beauty. 
 
 In another direction was to be seen the 
 
IGO THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 dark rocks of Nahant, its frowning cliffs and 
 pebbly beaches, and near the end of the 
 promontory the immense hotel which has since 
 been destroyed by fire. 
 
 On the other side the snrf broke on the 
 beach, and near by stood the Ocean House, 
 while back over the stern, they could see Egg 
 Rock with the white lighthouse perched on its 
 summit, and the waves foaming and dashing 
 around its base. 
 
 There was quite a fleet of small vessels 
 anchored or moored near to the Clio ; and they 
 also added to the picturesqueness of the scene. 
 Most of them were schooners, and they ranged 
 in size from five to fifty tons. The fishermen 
 called these vessels "jiggers." They are 
 employed in fishing for the market, and take 
 the fish they catch immediately to the shore 
 for sale, never salting and drying them. In 
 the pleasant summer weather the Swampscott 
 fishermen sail round to Boston to sell their 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. IGl 
 
 fish, but in Winter the Boston fish-mongers 
 come by land to Swampscott and obtain tlieir 
 supply of fresh fish. 
 
 For a long while True Blue and Frank lay 
 there talking of the scenery, the vessels and 
 fishing. At last the stars began to glitter in 
 the evening sky, and insensibly the conversa- 
 tion grew more serious : " Thomas," said 
 True Blue, " how great God must be, when 
 He makes such great and such beautiful 
 things. I don't wonder the Psalmist says, 
 ' Wlien I consider thy heavens, the work of thy 
 fingers, the moon and the stars which thou 
 hast ordained; what is man that thou art 
 mindful of him ? and the son of man that thou 
 visitest him ! ' sometimes I feel so insignificant 
 in the midst of the vast imiverse God has 
 made that I can hardly feel myself worthy of 
 Uis care and love." 
 
 The skipper and his shipmate were standing 
 near to True Blue when he spoke, (the dandy 
 
162 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 was early put on shore in Swampscott, for, as 
 he said, " the ocean did not agree with his 
 delicate state of health)," and the skipper 
 answered, " That's so ! " while the other 
 added, "Yet he loved us so well as to give 
 His dear Son to bring us back to Himself." 
 
 " Yes," answered True Blue, and there was 
 increased solemnity in his tones, and an inex- 
 pressible tenderness gleamed out of his 
 speaking eyes, lighting up his sun-burnt fea- 
 tures, which were plainly to be seen, by those 
 near him, in the fading light of the dying day, 
 " and I can truly say, to-night, that I love 
 Him who loved me and gave himself for me, 
 and it is with a joyful heart — glad even to 
 tears of joy sometimes — that by the eye of 
 faith I see Jesus, who was made a little lower 
 than the angels by the suffering of death, 
 crowned with glory and honor, that he by the 
 grace of God should taste death for every 
 man. I want to grow more and more like 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 163 
 
 him that wlicii I cast anchor it may be in 
 heaven's broad bay, where I can praise him 
 and serve him without sin forever." 
 
 A solemn stilhiess followed this outburst of 
 Christian emotion. The men who listened 
 were moved by deep sympathy ; the boy who 
 looked up into True Blue's face was awed 
 with the thought that God miglit some day 
 take his friend away from him, up to the 
 better land, and with the unanswered query 
 that then arose, '' Would they ever meet 
 again ? would the runaway boy be forgiven 
 and saved, notwithstanding 
 
 * Those holy gates forever bar 
 Pollution, sm and bhamc ? ' " 
 
 True Blue himself broke the pause by 
 asking if it was not growing too cool to stay 
 on deck longer, without more clothing, and 
 finally he and Frank concluded they had better 
 " turn in " early, so as to be ready for fishing 
 
164 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 and rowing in the morning. The light-house 
 fires were ah-eady blazing on the highlands 
 around, and on far-away capes, from whence 
 their light came glimmering across the solemn 
 sea. Frank leaned over the side of the vessel, 
 for a little while, after True Blue went to his 
 berth, and silently thought of home and his 
 mother. He might fling care away through 
 the busy hours of some few days, when excit- 
 ing scenes kept his thoughts on the things 
 immediately around him, but night and its 
 brooding stillness always brought the memory 
 of the past, and along with it a remorseful 
 emotion, but alas! not yet came also genuine 
 penitence such as would make him return and 
 ask forgiveness. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 IN THE DORY. 
 
 >0-MOIlROW '11 be a new day ! " 
 was the suggestive phrase with 
 which a saintly and sainted 
 woman used to console one 
 who went to her with child- 
 hood's petty cares and sorrows, 
 and usually the morrow 
 brought relief from that juvenile trial or the 
 needed measure of strength to bear it. 
 
 Frank found that " to-morrow " was *^ a new 
 day^ to him when he opened his eyes and 
 leaped from his narrow berth the next morn- 
 ing. Gone were the misgivings and fears of 
 
 165 
 
166 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 the night before, for he had been refreshed by 
 sleep, and in dreamland he had roved in fairy 
 bowers. True, he may not have deserved that 
 it should be so, but surely it was better for his 
 health of body and of mind. 
 
 " How do you steer, to-day ? " asked True 
 Blue from his berth, in his customary nautical 
 style. 
 
 *' Just as you direct. I hope we shall be 
 able to go to Nahant in the dory." 
 
 " We'll try, Thomas," was the answer, and 
 Frank hastily ascended to the deck. But alas ! 
 no picturesque scenery of last night did he 
 behold. Fog, dense and dark, was at the 
 stern, at the bow, alongside. Fog enveloped 
 them, and Frank's heart sank as he thought 
 of the projected dory voyage. But it was of 
 no use to fret. Hastily rigging his fishing 
 tackle, he soon threw over the coveted clam, 
 and secured the unwary or greedy cunners. 
 By the time the cook was ready to prepare 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 167 
 
 breakfast, he had caught enough to fry a 
 respectable panful. But he kept on till break- 
 fast was ready. By that time the orb of day 
 had risen, and he was glad to note that 
 
 i ' 
 
 * " The mist that like a dim, soft pall was lying, 
 
 Mingliug the gray sea with the low gray sky, 
 Floats upwiu-d now, the sunny breeze is sighing" — 
 
 and the promise of a day for boating is fairly 
 given. 
 
 Breakfast over, the dory, which had been 
 lying at the stern, was drawn alongside, fishing 
 apparatus put on board, and the twain who 
 liked to be " off and away o'er the billows* 
 together," stepped into their places at the bow 
 and stern, and gaily shot away over the waters. 
 At first True Blue thought he would " scull," 
 or propel the boat by means of an oar at the 
 stern, but finally concluded that he and his 
 companion would enjoy sitting near each other 
 and rowmg. This they did, and there chatted 
 
168 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 pleasantly of many things, especially of the 
 houses and scenery in view. 
 
 " Were you ever in that great hotel ? " asked 
 Frank, looking half over his slioulder at the 
 building of which he spoke in Nahant. 
 
 " Yes, once ; " answered True Blue, " it's a 
 babel-like structure, only large instead of 
 
 " Did you ever see a larger hotel ? " 
 . "Never. This is said to be the largest 
 in America. There's four acres of carpeted 
 floors, and nine miles of bell- wire. And then 
 it's lighted with gas made on the premises. 
 There's a telegraph-wire to Boston, so that the 
 folks stopping there can hear from the rest of 
 the world, and the news is sent there before it 
 gets into the Boston papers. At least, all this 
 used to be done, when I was there, but I don't 
 think Xahant is such a favorite place as it was 
 once." 
 
 " How do travellers get out here ? " 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 169 
 
 "Oh, somo come in the steamer Nelly 
 Baker, whose horn we heard, you know, in the 
 fog, and some come by cars to Lynn and take 
 the stage to Nahant." 
 
 " Well, I don't wonder they like to come 
 here, and enjoy the cool sea-breezes, and bathe 
 in tlie ocean, and sail on it, too." 
 
 "Nor I, Thomas. They have jolly times, 
 some of them. Sailing parties and chowder 
 picnics are the order of the day when the sun 
 is out, and when it rains there is the bowling- 
 alley, and billiard-room, the hops and concerts 
 and theatricals, for those that like such 
 things." 
 
 All the while the dory was drawing nearer 
 to Nahant, and before long they drew it up on 
 the beach, and started for a ramble over the 
 rocky peninsula. Some regard Nahant as an 
 island. One writer seems to prove this idea 
 from the character of the vegetation and from 
 other peculiarities in which it differs from the 
 neighboring sliores. 
 
170 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 "Let's go to the Spouting Horn?" said 
 True Blue. 
 
 " What is that ? " asked Frank. 
 
 " Oh ! it's a place where the water rushes 
 into a sort of tunnel and then spouts out 
 again with a loud noise. You'll soon see." 
 
 Sure enough they did both see and hear. 
 As they stood on the rocky clifif above the 
 Spouting Horn, Frank exclaimed, " Hark ! I 
 hear thunder. I hope we're not gomg to have 
 a storm ! '* 
 
 True Blue only smiled. In a moment 
 Frank exclaimed agam, "Don't you hear it 
 thunder, True Blue? Hadn't we better go 
 back?" 
 
 "That's the old Spouting Horn, my boy, 
 welcoming you and me." 
 
 Frank listened with a new idea dawning on 
 his mind. The sound now seemed to rise 
 from below. True Blue led the way, and they 
 went down the dark rocks till they stood near 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 171 
 
 the wonderful Horn. They watched the waves 
 roll in and break against the crag ; then pour 
 into the tunnel. 
 
 " How far does the water run into that 
 cavern, True Blue?" asked Frank. 
 
 " The tunnel is said to be a hundred feet in 
 length." 
 
 Frank fairly danced with delight, and exhil- 
 arated by the wildness of the scene, and the 
 startling efifect of the white sheets of foam and 
 spray which came forth with a thundering 
 sound from the rocky cavern, he clapped his 
 hands again and again, at every outburst of 
 sound and spray, and shouted aloud " Hurrah 1 
 Hurrah 1" 
 
 True Blue was pleased with Frank's evident 
 delight, and allowed him to linger some time 
 an enthusiastic spectator of the novel sight. 
 
 Then he proposed a further ramble, and 
 they climbed the rocks agam, and walked 
 along. True Blue pointed out Castle Rock, 
 
172 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 and Saunders' Ledge, the first an immense 
 pile of rocks, in form and arrangement re- 
 minding one of some old feudal stronghold, 
 and the latter, huge iron-colored rocks around 
 which the waves disport in their mighty gam- 
 bols. On they went. At Caldron GlifF they 
 saw the water boiling, but not as furiously as 
 during some terrific storm. In Roaring Cav- 
 ern they listened almost with awe to the waves 
 again. Then they crossed Natural Bridge, 
 and stood on Pulpit Rock, a large mass of 
 stone nearly twenty feet square, and rising 
 thirty feet or more above the foaming waters. 
 The ascent to this Rock was very difiicult, and 
 the twain with difficulty accomplished it. 
 
 Passing on around the extreme point of 
 the promontory they visited Swallows' Cave, 
 a passage eight feet high, ten wide, and open- 
 ing into the sea, and finally paused at Irene's 
 Grotto, " a tall arch, grotesque and beautiful, 
 leadmg to a large room in the rock and one of 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 173 
 
 the greatest curiosities of Xaliaiit." Not far 
 away was tlie wliarf wlicrc the steamer lands. 
 They finished their ramble with a visit to the 
 great hotel, which they did not enter, and 
 which did not then look as if it were thronged 
 with visitors. 
 
 After a brief rest in one of the pavilions 
 near, they went back to their dory, and em- 
 barked again upon the blue waters. 
 
 " What are these things in the water ? " 
 asked Frank, pointing to some jelly-like look- 
 ing substances, circular in form, ahnost trans- 
 parent, and in shape, while floating something 
 like an expanded umbrella. 
 
 " Oh, we call those things surirsquallsj^ an- 
 swered True Blue, " or sea-nettles, or sea- 
 jellies." 
 
 i " They have ahnost as many names as the 
 cunner." 
 
 " Yes, and the Grermans, I have heard, call 
 them by a name which means umbrellor 
 jellies^ 
 
174 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 " That's a very good name," said Frank. 
 
 '' I've seen'em," said True Blue, " a foot in 
 diameter and weighing several pounds ; but 
 you put such a one in the sun a few hours and 
 you'll have nothing left but some dried skins. 
 It'll all dry up, or evaporate." 
 
 " Singular ! " answered Frank, musingly. 
 And True Blue who, with all his roughness as 
 a sailor seemed to have the heart and mind of 
 a Christian, responded in the language of the 
 Psalmist, " Lord, how manifold are thy 
 works ! in wisdom hast thou made them all : 
 the earth is full of thy riches. So is this 
 great and wide sea, wherein are things creep- 
 ing innumerable, both small and great beasts. 
 
 There go the ships : there is the leviathan, 
 whom thou hast made to play therein. 
 
 These wait all upon thee ; that thou mayest 
 give them their meat in due season. 
 
 That thou givest them they gather ; thou 
 openest thine hand, they are filled with good. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 175 
 
 Thou liidest thy face, they are troubled ; 
 thou takest away their breath, they die, and 
 return to their dust. 
 
 Thou sendest forth thy spirit, they are 
 created : and thou renewest the face of the 
 earth. 
 
 The glory of the Lord shall endure forever : 
 the Lord shall rejoice in His works." 
 
 They then rowed on in silence. At last 
 they came to a place at no great distance from 
 the shore where True Blue said, " Let's anchor 
 here and fish a little." 
 
 " Aye, aye, sir I " said Frank, smiling, and 
 in imitation of True Blue's style of speech. 
 So he rose and taking the anchor from its 
 place at the bow, he dropped it over into the 
 restless waves. Then they threw over their 
 baited lines and waited patiently for the fish 
 to bite. Nor did they wait long, and soon the 
 bottom of the dory displayed a goodly number 
 of fishes. Quite a variety, too I There were 
 
176 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 cunners in the majority, as to numbers and 
 various in size. Tliere were two specimens of 
 rock-cod. This is a species of cod-fish which 
 is small, and sometimes reddish colored : 
 usually caught in the vicinity of rocks, hence 
 its name. The other fishes they caught were 
 mackerel. Few fishes are so handsome as this. 
 In form it is elegant, and in color beautiful 
 and brilliant. The upper part is dark green 
 in hue, and the lower part silvery white, 
 while all along the sides are wavy bands of 
 mixed and changing colors, reminding one of 
 changeable silk. 
 
 " I guess we'll quit, now," said True Blue. 
 " It's past noon, and I'm hungry." 
 
 " So am I," said Frank, and he began to 
 haul in his line, but before it was in, he felt a 
 bite, and finally took into the dory a fine 
 haddock. 
 
 " There is your St. Peter's fish," exclaimed 
 True Blue. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 177 
 
 " My what ? " asked Frank in astonishment. 
 
 " Do you see those dark spots each side of 
 that liaddock, behind the gills ? In Catholic 
 countries they'll tell you that the haddock is 
 the fish from whom St. Peter, at the command e 
 of Christ, took the tribute money, these spots 
 being supposed to be the marks made by the 
 Apostle's thumb and finger as he held it." 
 
 " What a story ? " exclaimed Frank. 
 
 *' Did you ever think how the narrative of 
 our Lord's life is full of reference to fish and 
 fishermen ? " 
 
 " No, I never did." 
 
 " Well, Thomas, I don't, of course, remem- 
 ber all, but you'll soon find I'm right if you 
 look. There were the miracles of the loaves 
 and fishes ; some of his disciples were fisher- 
 men, and he told them he wished to make 
 them fishers of men. Then there's the story 
 of the fish with the tribute money, and the 
 parable of the net with the fishes in it, and 
 
178 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 after our Lord's resurrection he ate broiled 
 fishr 
 
 "Well, there is more than I thought. Is 
 there much said about the sea ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, the Old and New Testament both 
 speak of the sea. Genesis tells of the gather- 
 ing together of the waters, called seas, and tlie 
 last book of the Bible speaks of the fact that 
 by and by there shall be no sea." 
 
 While they had been talking they had pulled 
 up the anchor, and had begun to row towards 
 the Clio. The day was delightful. A lull 
 had succeeded a tolerably high wind, and the 
 waves which had been a little white-capped, 
 had subsided to the dead level of a calm. 
 They shot easily and gracefully through the 
 placid waters, and were soon on board the 
 little vessel — their floating home. There 
 they found plenty of dinner, and True Blue, 
 who was yet far from well, gladly stretched 
 himself for a nap on the deck, in a shady spot. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 179 
 
 Sleep, however, would not come at his 
 beckoning. In vain he wooed the goddess. 
 She would not strew her poppies over him. 
 At last he said to Frank, who was also lying 
 on deck reading an illustrated newspaper 
 which he had found in the cabin, " Thomas, 
 my boy, I wish you would go down into the 
 cabin, and bring up that book on the transom, 
 just opposite my berth. '* 
 
 Frank fulfilled the request. " Now, my 
 lad," said True Blue, " I want you^ to read the 
 description of Nahant which is there. There's 
 a mark in the book ; open to that. You'll like 
 it, I know." 
 
 So Frank opened as he wished, and read 
 aloud these words from the pen of the late 
 Alonzo Lewis, the poet and historian of Lynn : 
 
 " The temperature of Nahant, being moder- 
 ated by searbreezes, so as to be cooler in sum- 
 mer and milder in winter than the mainland, 
 is regarded as being highly conducive to 
 
180 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 health. It is delightful in smnmer to ramble 
 round this romantic peninsula, and to examine 
 at leisure its interesting curiosities — to hear 
 the waves rippling the colored pebbles of the 
 beaches, and see them gliding over the project- 
 ing ledges in fanciful cascades — to behold the 
 plovers and sandpipers running along the 
 beaches, the seal slumbering upon the outer 
 rocks, the white gulls soaring overhead, the 
 porpoises pursuing their rude gambols along 
 the shore, and the curlew, the loon, the black 
 duck, and the coot, the brant, with his dappled 
 neck, and the old-wife, with her strange, wild, 
 vocal melody, swimming gracefully in the 
 coves, and rising and sinking with the swell of 
 the tide : The moonlight evenings here are 
 exceedingly lovely ; and the phosphoric ra- 
 diance of the billows, on favorable nights, 
 (making the waters look like a sea of fire), 
 exhibits a scene of wonderful beauty. 
 
 But however delightful Nahant may appear 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 181 
 
 in summer, it is surpassed by the grandeur 
 and sublimity of a winter storm. When the 
 strong east wind has swept over the Atlantic 
 for several days, and the billows, wrought up 
 to fury, are foaming along like living moun- 
 tains — breaking upon the precipitous cliffs — 
 dashing into the rough gorges, — thundering 
 in the subten-anean caverns of rocks, and 
 throwing the white foam and spray, like vast 
 columns of smoke, hundreds of feet in the air, 
 above the tallest cliffs — an appearance is pre- 
 sented which the wildest imagination cannot 
 surpass. Then the ocean — checked in its 
 headlong career by a simple bar of sand — as 
 if mad with its detention, roars like protracted 
 thunder ; and the wild sea-birds, borne along 
 by the furious waters, are dashed to death 
 against the cliffs. Standing at such an hour 
 upon the rocks, I have seen the waves bend 
 bars of iron an inch in diameter double, float 
 rocks of granite sixteen feet in length, as if 
 
182 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 tliey were timbers of wood, and the wind, 
 seizing the white gull in its irresistible 
 embrace, bear her, shrieking, many miles into 
 Lynn woods. In summer a day at Xahant is 
 delightful ; and a storm in winter is glorious, 
 but terrible." 
 
 " There, isn't that a fine description ? " 
 asked True Blue, as Frank closed the book. 
 
 " Yes, indeed it is, and I shall always feel 
 grateful to you for bringing me here to see 
 and enjoy it all." 
 
 "We'll have one more trip in our dory 
 before we sleep, I think, and I'll show you some 
 more of Nahant — at least more of the works 
 of man there. I cannot promise that they 
 wiU interest you as much as those works of 
 God's hand which you have seen to-day." 
 
 And True Blue rose from his recumbent 
 position. Frank's eyes sparkled assent, and 
 in a short time they were in the dory again, 
 and pulling away rapidly towards Nahant. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 183 
 
 Tliey soon landed, and this time near the 
 grounds belonging to an eccentric individual 
 who had erected a hotel, which he called the 
 " Maolis House," the name being the word 
 " Siloam " spelled backwards. The grounds 
 were fancifully laid out, with pavilions, orna- 
 mented in a grotesque manner, with paintings, 
 rude sculpture, &c. Some of these pavilions 
 contained tables where picnic parties could 
 place their dinners, and while they sat eating, 
 could leisurely behold the billowy deep stretch- 
 ing out before them. Not far from the pebbly 
 beach was a walled enclosure where there was 
 water, and above it a sign board declaring it 
 to be the " Pool of Maolis." 
 
 " Maolis ! Siloam ! " exclaimed True Blue, 
 " doesn't this make you think of the blind 
 man that Christ sent to the pool of Siloam to 
 wash and receive sight." 
 
 " Yes, sir, it does." 
 
 " But tell me do you enjoy all this ? " 
 
184 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 " Not SO much as I enjoyed the ramble aud 
 scramble this morning." 
 
 " Just so, my lad, you think, with the poet, 
 ' God made the coimtry and man made the 
 town,' and you think the last-mentioned some- 
 thing of a botcher, don't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do. How silly now, are these 
 wooden lions, that wooden bull chamed ! but 
 then I like the garden, and the swing, and the 
 pavilions." 
 
 " Well, they're good in their way, all of 
 them, but give me Nature's own handiwork — 
 I see the impress of God's fingers then, and 
 my heart is gladdened and strengthened." 
 
 They walked a short time in the little 
 village, and as the shadows began to gather, 
 returned to the shore, and were soon borne on 
 the waves, propelled by rather weary arms, to 
 their berths, which they were not sorry to 
 enter, and where they soon slept, and Frank 
 floated out on that quiet sea of slumber in the 
 dory of a dream. 
 
CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 THE OLD FORT. 
 
 c/r-X3 
 
 »HE next day, True Blue and 
 Frank took the dory and visi- 
 ted Swampscott, and then went 
 out fishing again, and very 
 much did Frank enjoy taking 
 into the boat the various speci- 
 mens of the finny tribe which 
 were lured to destruction by his baited hook, 
 which was as an enemy in the guise of a 
 friend — a wolf in sheep's clothing. 
 
 On the third day the Clio slipped from hor 
 moorings, and her prow was turned towards 
 Marblehead. The shoemaker's work-bench 
 
 185 
 
186 TUE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 loomed up before the fancy of the boy, but did 
 not seem so attractive as before these few days 
 of fi-eedom and out-door pleasure. 
 
 Yet he knew that, for the present, there 
 alone lay the hope of earning enough for his 
 xlwn sustenance, and that fondly desired 
 amount which he would fain take home on 
 some bright future day to his mother and 
 sister. Necessity was his master now, and he 
 obeyed with what grace he could muster. 
 The thoughtless, wayward youth was still the 
 obstinate runaway, who would not be the re- 
 turning prodigal, but yet he had sense and 
 spirit enough to know his duty and to do it, so 
 far as laboring for the supply of his immediate 
 wants were concerned. He was soon there- 
 fore seated on his bench, and busily engaged 
 in the mysteries of last and awl. 
 
 He had one especial consolation. True 
 Blue was his fellow workman. His health was 
 such that he was still unable to go to sea, or 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 187 
 
 engage in any out-door employments, and so 
 he employed himself in shoe-making, as many 
 of the Marblehead fishermen do when not 
 away in the exercise of their chosen vocation. 
 
 Some delightful days they had, too, of wan-^ 
 dering together about the ancient town, arfft 
 some boat excursions — days which lingered 
 in Frank's remembrance as halcyon periods of 
 unsullied brightness. 
 
 One day they rambled toward the shore. 
 " Come, let us go to the Fort ! " said True 
 Blue. 
 
 " What Fort ? " asked Frank. 
 
 " Is it possible you've floated round here so 
 long, and never discovered that ? Come and 
 see." 
 
 So they went toward the shore on the 
 Northeastern side of the town. There they 
 found the remains of earth-works, and small 
 edifices within, which had once been the place 
 of defence for the harbor, but which was theu 
 
188 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 bereft of cannon, and had now a broken-down, 
 dilapidated appearance, which spoke little in 
 favor of its utility in case of an invasion. 
 They drew near, and descending the embank- 
 ment, they reconnoitred the premises. An 
 old grey-headed woman, tall and large-boued, 
 came out and accosted them, civilly but with 
 the air and manner of an empress, informing 
 them, in inimitable tones of self-appreciation, 
 that she was the " United States Agent " and 
 had cliarge of the place. The unofficial char- 
 acter of her attire and general appearance con- 
 trasted ludicrously with her grandiloquent 
 speech, and woke a smile on the faces of her 
 auditors, which blossomed afterward, when out 
 of her sight, into a merry laugh. But they 
 did not, of course, treat her disrespectfully. 
 She was undoubtedly a worthy woman. Her 
 father was formerly in charge of the little 
 Government property on that rocky highland, 
 and the place with its small salary had been 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 189 
 
 continued to his daughter. After obtaining a 
 draught of excellent water, they bowed her a 
 " good morning " and ascended the embank- 
 ment again. They lay down on the green and 
 sloping bank. Below them were the dark 
 rocks, frowning grimly -over the dashing Ijil- 
 lows at their feet. Far away stretched the 
 blue and rolling deep. Dotting its broad 
 bosom were islands some with verdant slopes, 
 and others dark with seamed and fissured 
 rocks. 
 
 " What island is that ? " asked Frank, point- 
 ing to one which seemed comparatively near. 
 
 " That is Lowell Island," answered True 
 Blue, " and that large white building is the 
 hotel." 
 
 " And what one is that which seems also to 
 have buildings on it ? " One of them looks 
 like a lighthouse." 
 
 " There are two lighthouses. It is Baker's 
 Island. That's a light the fishermen welcome 
 
190 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 Oil their returning voyage, I can tell you. 
 But, my boy, you must go out fishing with me 
 next Spring, if I get well enough. Say, will 
 you?" 
 
 " Yes, I wiU." I 
 
 " Your mother will like it ? " 
 
 '^ I think she will not object." Of course 
 she would not, for what would she know about 
 it? 
 
 " Wlien did you hear from her last ? " 
 
 " Last week, sir." 
 
 " Was she well, and your sister ? " 
 
 " Yes sir." 
 
 True Blue judged, fi'om the monosyllabic 
 character of his replies, that Frank did not 
 care to tell him more, and was therefore silent 
 on the subject. 
 
 Soon after they continued their ramble. 
 Over, far over, in another direction they came 
 to an ancient graveyard. It was on the brow 
 of a breezy emmence, and was a rather rough 
 and rocky place for a cemetery. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 191 
 
 " How came they to bury the dead here, in 
 such a place ? " exclaimed Frank. 
 
 " ^Miy, the church stood here, perched on 
 the highest point of land. Right there on 
 that rock, in tliis bare, bleak, exposed place ; 
 real Puritan style. I suppose they wanted a 
 place where they could see the Indians before 
 they reached them, and being on higher 
 gi-ound have the advantage of them." 
 
 "So they buried the dead here because 
 being near the church it was consecrated 
 ground ? " 
 
 " Yes, and here they worshipped with their 
 guns ready to fight if the Indians came, and 
 one man always on the watch." 
 
 " I'm glad we don't live in such times." 
 
 " Wliy, as to that, if you were down South, 
 you'd think you were living in such times, I can 
 tell you. War is war, and it's bloody work 
 anywhere. I shall be glad for one when this 
 war is over. But if my health returns, I 
 
192 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 mean to serve my country in it once again, if 
 
 I get my death-wound." 
 
 " Bravo ! True Blue ! I wish I could go 
 
 with you." 
 
 " I guess we will go — down home, for it's 
 about time. But come here a minute, I'll 
 show you something funny." 
 
 So True Blue led Frank to a tombstone 
 somewhat discolored with age, whereon was 
 inscribed the name of a lady, whom True Blue 
 declared to be one of that too much despised 
 sisterhood — "old maids," — and bade him 
 read what the ancient spinster had herself 
 directed to be carved on her gravestone. 
 Frank read — 
 
 " An honest man 's the noblest work of God, ' 
 
 and then burst into a loud laugh at the incon- 
 gruity of the epitaph. 
 
 Slowly they sauntered homeward. True 
 Blue was boarding, for the time, with the 
 Bartlett's so they went together. Mention 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 193 
 
 was made of the places they had visited, and 
 then ^Irs. Bartlett spoke of some lines which 
 she had preserved, that described Marblehead 
 and the fort, which she read, at the request of 
 True Blue and Frank. * 
 
 When Mrs. Bartlett ceased reading, her 
 husband desired her to sing a popular song 
 penned by Mrs. Caroline A. Mason. 
 
 " Do they miss me at home, do they miss me ? 
 
 ' Twould be an assurance most dear 
 To know at this moment some loved one 
 
 Was saying, ' Oh, were she but here." 
 To know that the group at the fireside 
 
 Were thinking of me as I roam, — 
 Oh, yes ! ' twould be joy beyond measure, 
 
 To know that they miss me at home I 
 
 When twilight approaches, the season 
 
 That ever was sacred to Song, 
 Does some one repeat my name over, 
 
 And sigh that I taiTy so long ? 
 And is there a chord in the music 
 
 That's missed when my voice is away ? 
 And a chord in each heart that awaketh 
 
 Regret at my wearisome stay ? 
 
 Do they place me a chair near the table 
 When evening's home pleasures are nigh. 
 
194 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 And candles are lit in the parlor, 
 
 And stars in the calm, azure sky ? 
 And when the good nights are repeated, 
 
 Does each the dear memory keep, 
 And think of the absent, and waft mo 
 
 A whispered ' Good night ' ere they sleep ? 
 
 Do they miss me at home, do they miss me, 
 
 At morning, at noon, and at night ? — 
 And lingers one gloomy shade round them 
 
 That only my presence can light, — 
 Are joys less invitingly welcomed. 
 
 And pleasures less dear than before, 
 Because one is missed from the circle, — 
 
 Because I am with them no more ? 
 
 Oh, yes — they do miss me — kind voices 
 
 Are calling me back as I roam, 
 And eyes have grown weary with weeping, 
 
 And watch but to welcome me home ! 
 Sweet friends, ye shall wait me no longer — 
 
 No longer I'll linger behind — 
 For how can I tarry while followed 
 
 By watchings and pleadings so kind ? " 
 
 Tears stood in every eye, as the melody 
 ceased, and that silence, which is the sweetest 
 applause, followed the gush of song, till sud- 
 denly all were startled, as with a wild out-burst 
 of emotion, that would not be restramed, 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 195 
 
 Frank rushed from the room. All at once 
 comprehended the cause, or, at least, thought 
 they did. The song had broken up the foun- 
 tains of that great deep in his heart whoso 
 waters covered the love of home and mother 
 and sister, and he had gone by himself to 
 weep over their separation. But they knew 
 not all. They dreamed not of the stormy, 
 wrathful waves of sorrowful and remorseful 
 feeling that swept with terror and sadness over 
 the runaway's soul, but they wisely left him 
 to himself, and he was seen no more among: 
 them that night. It was long ere he slept 
 upon his tear-wet pillow, and when he did, 
 strange visions were his portion. In his 
 dreams he stood upon the old fort, saw it gar- 
 risoned and furnished, heard the loud voices 
 of contending foemen, and the deep baying of 
 the cannon's mouth, and saw the flash of 
 sword and musketry. He felt the sharp, glit- 
 tering bayonet pierce liis head, and then came 
 
196 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 his gentle mother with her soothing touch and 
 welcome words. He felt like one who has 
 been out amid storm and tempest, and finally 
 found himself moored safely in quiet waters. 
 But he awoke, and lo ! it was all a dream, and 
 again the runaway wept bitterly. 
 
 The next morning he came to the family 
 room with a pale and saddened face, and when 
 he asked Mrs. Bartlett for the pen and ink, she 
 rightly concluded that he intended writing to 
 his mother, and with a kind, " That's right, 
 Thomas, write her a good long letter. You'll 
 feel better for it," she gave him the writing 
 materials. 
 
 True Blue had invited Frank to go to Bos- 
 ton with him in a day or two, and he wrote 
 the letter that he might drop it in the Post 
 Office there. Again he told his mother that 
 the postmark would afford her no clue to his 
 hiding-place, and again his heart smote him 
 for thus prolonging her pain. But he could 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 197 
 
 not make her suffer by his wrong doing, 
 without suffering also himself, for the sinner, 
 liis sin, and its results are like the three sides 
 of a triangle, inseparably connected. The eye 
 of God is on the sinner. He cannot escape 
 the consequences of God's violated law. But 
 God's eye is one of pity and love as well as 
 justice. " He would have all to repent." 
 Frank needed to feel that to be true. 
 
CHAPTER Xm. 
 
 " HIGH HOOK ! " 
 
 >IXTER came, and with it 
 much discomfort for Frank. 
 He was not accustomed to a 
 Northern winter, with its ice 
 and snow. He had seen 
 snow but rarely in Washing- 
 QJ ton, and to have it on the 
 
 ground day after day, and week after week, 
 was not only a novelty to him, but to his 
 Southern constitution an indeskable one. Be- 
 sides he was not as well prepared for a North- 
 ern winter as he would have been had his kind 
 mother been near to think of and prepare the 
 
 198 
 
THE KUNAWAY BOY. 199 
 
 nice, warm woolen stockings, the flannel shirts, 
 the overcoats, &c. — Mrs. Bartlctt, however, 
 was very kind to him, and manifested a moth- 
 erly interest in all that concerned his welfare. 
 It is not often — in fact, it is rarely the case — 
 that a runaway boy finds so good a home and 
 such kind friends to compensate for those 
 which he has left. Generally such a boy 
 would go from bad to worse, plunging deeper 
 and deeper into sin and misery. God — per- 
 haps for his good mother's sake — certainly 
 out of His infinite mercy and love, shielded 
 Frank from many evils, and thus he did not 
 stray so far into vice and crime as he would 
 otherwise have done. 
 
 But lest any wayward boy should think he 
 might run away from home, and find good 
 friends as Frank did, and be thus, himself, 
 comparatively happy, or, at least, comfortable, 
 it must also be stated that Frank was far from 
 happy. Many times he was very unhappy. 
 
200 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 Conscience did not slumber, and often when 
 he was having what most bojs would call " a 
 gay time," with merry young companions, or 
 out amid the loveliness of Nature with his 
 dear friend True Blue, conscience would keep 
 whispering to him of the Past, of his great sin 
 against his mother — the great error of his 
 young life. He carried always about with 
 him an aching heart, and one burdened, too, 
 with a secret he was ever fearing would be 
 revealed. Besides, as before remarked, he 
 could not be as brave and manly in his feel- 
 ings as a boy ought to be, for he knew he was 
 " sailing under false colors," by bearing an 
 assumed name, and that kind of " sailing " he 
 knew that such honest men as True Blue 
 despised. 
 
 But, oftentimes sad and weary, often cold 
 and lonely, he finally got through the winter. 
 Spring came and brought health enough for 
 True Blue to think of voyaging once more. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 201 
 
 " Come, Frank, are jou all ready ? How 
 soon can you get your fitting out ? My duds 
 are all packed, and I'm off next week. You 
 said you'd go too, and there's just a berth for 
 you in the schooner." 
 
 Frank understood the speaker, and cheer- 
 fully answered, " I think I can be ready. True 
 Blue. Mr. Bartlett said he thought you would 
 be after me this week, and I'm partly ready 
 now. Mrs. Bartlett has been helping me, and 
 Mr. Bartlett has given me lots of things that I 
 needed." 
 
 " They are good people, Thomas. They're 
 what I call Christians. They use the Bible 
 for their chart all the week, as well as 
 Sundays." 
 
 " They have made me respect religion, and 
 I wish I could grow up to be such a man as 
 Mr. Bartlett." 
 
 " He's a true man, and none the less for 
 not being a rich one. There's not a particle 
 of deceit about him." 
 
202 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 Frank quailed at this remark. He was thus 
 continually reminded of his duplicity. True 
 Blue continued, after a pause, "But we must 
 hurry Frank. We want to be off in good 
 season so as to be sure and wet all our salt, 
 and come back with a good fare. I hope 
 jon'llhQ'highhookr' 
 
 "What's that? 'High hook!' I never 
 heard of that before." 
 
 " Oh, the one that catches the most fish is 
 called high hook." 
 
 " I wish I could be, but I'm sure you'll beat 
 me all hollow." 
 
 They parted to prepare, and did not meet 
 again till ready to start for the fisher's Banks, 
 
 Away out on the coast of Newfoundland are 
 vast tracts of shoal water where fishes congre- 
 gate. These are called the " Banks," and 
 thither fishing crafts from every port, and of 
 every size, repair. Most of the vessels are 
 schooners. All of them carry dories — one for 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 203 
 
 each man — except the man who stays on 
 board the vessel to "keep" it. He fishes from 
 the tatfrail. Often great seines are used to 
 catch the fishes as in the Saviour's time on the 
 lake of Tiberias. i 
 
 True Blue was usually skipper himself, but 
 this time he prefered to go as one of the crew, 
 since his health was such that he desired no 
 responsibility, and wished to be at liberty to 
 work or rest as he felt able to do. They got 
 well started on their voyage, when, one morn- 
 ing, just as Frank was going up on deck, he 
 heard a great noise and commotion; loud 
 shouting of " hard down your helm ! " " Keep 
 away two points ! '' " Look out ! we shall be 
 afoul ! " He hurried on deck, and soon saw 
 what was the trouble. A dense fog had settled 
 down upon the ocean during the night, which 
 the rising sun had scarcely penetrated. He 
 coidd see dimly tlu-ough the mist, the dusky 
 forms of other vessels, not very far away, but 
 
204 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 apparently not likely to come in contact with 
 their schooner. Bat, right ahead, bearing 
 directly down upon them, with her bell ring- 
 ing, and her shrill whistle screaming loudly, 
 was a steamer, looming up through the fog 
 into gigantic proportions. Her warning noises 
 had been heard, but it was rather difficult to 
 tell, till they could see her, which way they 
 should steer to keep out of her path. On she 
 came. Like the car of Juggernaut she might 
 crush them beneath her mighty keel, and send 
 each human occupant of the smaller craft to a 
 watery grave. The danger was imminent. 
 All saw it. All felt it. 
 
 But the Captain, who was on deck, was as 
 cool as an iceberg. He had faced danger on 
 the deep before. Quietly he watched the on 
 coming of the mighty giant of the seas, as the 
 steamer appeared, and amid the loud cries of 
 men, who in their fright, gave orders which he 
 only should have given, he seized the helm 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 205 
 
 himself, and safely steered the vessel, so that 
 she was soon out of the path of the steamer, 
 which ploughed her way through the parting 
 billows with a force and energy which gave 
 one an idea of almost superhuman power, for 
 she 
 
 " Walked the waters as a thing of life.'* 
 
 Frank was forced to acknowledge, to himself, 
 that he had been frightened, when the cold 
 dew stood on his forehead after the danger 
 was over, while True Blue quietly said, " I'm 
 glad Captain Ronndy was so cool, for we might 
 otherwise have been in eternity before this. 
 God has preserved us through him." 
 
 Frank felt that he was hardly ready to go 
 from this world, and when he shortly after- 
 ward wrote a letter to his mother, wliich he 
 mailed in one of the little ports where the 
 fishermen sometimes stop, he tuld her of the 
 new danger on the deep he had encountered, 
 
206 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 adding, " I am glad I am spared, dear mother, 
 for I do not want to die till I have seen you 
 and my sister, and heard you say that you 
 have forgiven your misguided son. I only 
 stay away from you now, that I may have 
 more money to take to you. I am hoping to 
 earn much this trip, for I am partly a cook, 
 and partly a fisherman. Usually, boys like 
 me have to go only as cook. True Blue got 
 me a better place." 
 
 After Frank sent this letter he remembered 
 that he had, as once before, thoughtlessly, 
 written the name by which he called his good 
 friend in it, and it annoyed him a little, at 
 first, but then he thought as it was not his 
 real name, no one could trace him by that. 
 He little knew that it was to form one link in 
 the chain which was to lead him to better days. 
 
 Heavy fogs frequently enveloped the schoon- 
 er on her voyage, but sometimes they had 
 clear and beautiful weather for days together. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 207 
 
 On the morning after their arrival at the little 
 port where Frank mailed his letter, they essay- 
 ed to depart, and again had a narrow escape. 
 Frank was below " making up " the berths, 
 which was a part of his duty, when he heard 
 the Captain's voice in a loud, sharp tone, 
 " Hard a lee ! " He ran up the gangway. 
 The wind had changed while the vessel was 
 working her way out of the harbor. There 
 was a low, narrow point of land which they 
 wished to pass. 
 
 " One more short tack, and we'll fetch by ! " 
 exclaimed the man at the helm. 
 
 The vessel obeyed the helm, the sails were 
 changed from one side to the other, and soon 
 the land which was so dangerously near, and 
 on which the waves broke in long lines of 
 white surf, was far behind them. 
 
 The days of fishing were somewhat monoto- 
 nous to Frank, and not a little wearisome. 
 From early morning till late at night, they 
 
208 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 were hauling in the noble cod-fish, and though 
 tired and lame, spent many of the evening 
 hours in dressing and salting their fares. 
 Great was the effort made by all on board to 
 be "high hook." During the voyage there 
 were several days when Frank was " high 
 hook," but usually more experienced fisher- 
 men gained the honorable title, and one of 
 them, having caught the largest number of 
 all — they all kept " tally " as they call it — 
 carried home the desirable title of honor — 
 " high hook I " 
 
 Frank was not a little surprised, one day, at 
 seeing a rush made to the side of the vessel, 
 by the men, when some one had called out, 
 "Squid, 0!" 
 
 The squid, or cuttle fish, is a peculiar speci- 
 menv of -the* piscatory tribe. Long feelers 
 proceed from his head, and as he is not formi- 
 dable with teeth, or in any way, he is provided 
 with a sort of sack of inky liquid with which 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 209 
 
 it darkens the water when it is pursued, and 
 in the covert of that blackness, darts back out 
 of the reach of his enemy. 
 
 The squid is very desirable for bait, and 
 hence the eagerness of the fishermen to secure 
 them. They arc very voracious, and will bite 
 at the bare hook, so they are easily caught. 
 Sometimes, they are eaten, but they are not 
 generally used for food. 
 
 " There she blows ! " was another loud and 
 inspiring exclamation, which Frank heard just 
 as he was setting the table for dinner. He 
 had been told its signification, and he gladly 
 rushed out to see the novel sight. 
 
 " Where away ? " asked he in true sailor 
 phrase. 
 
 " On the weather bow ! " answered True 
 Blue. And there, sure enough, were the 
 whales Frank had been longing to see. They 
 were spouting in evident satisfaction, and their 
 dark forms were plainly to be seen tumbling 
 about among the waves. 
 
210 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 " I tell you there's fish there," said True 
 Blue, " always other fish where you see 
 whales." 
 
 They steered toward the school of whales, 
 and at last anchored near the spot. Fishing 
 lines were soon in use, and the " large haul " 
 which was anticipated was secured. 
 
 "I'd like to go a whaling," said Frank to 
 True Blue. 
 
 " It's dangerous business, and no easy task. 
 If there's a brave set of fellows in the world, 
 it's those sailors that have harpooned the 
 mighty whale from Juan-Fernandez to the 
 Arctic Ocean, and have not faltered even when 
 to the usual danger of attacking this powerful 
 animal, is added the icy perils of the Arctic 
 seas." 
 
 Frank bowed his head in assent. He felt 
 that True Blue must be right. 
 
CHAPTER XIV, 
 
 OCEAN SCENES. 
 
 f^ OW I 'm not sea-sick, I like to be 
 on the sea, and if I could be 
 sure of getting back safe from 
 some of those foreign lands, I'd 
 like to enter the merchant ser- 
 vice, and go up the Straits, or 
 to Canton," said Frank. 
 " How would you like the Navy ? " asked 
 True Blue. " '\ 
 
 " Not quite as well, I must confess, for at 
 the present time our navy must stay round 
 home, and I want to see foreign lands." 
 
 '- But you are not afraid to go in the Navy, 
 
 211 
 
212 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 thinking of that shot from a battery which 
 might strike your magazine, and send the crew 
 to Davy Jones' locker in a moment." 
 
 " Not exactly afraid, True Blue, but 1 don't 
 want my life shortened just yet. I hope I 
 should be faithful to my country if she should 
 call me to serve her in the army or navy." 
 
 You hope you should? Well, Thomas, I 
 like to hear you speak thus modestly. Boast- 
 ing becomes no one except the tried who were 
 not found wanting, and they are the ones least 
 likely to boast. But do you see that cloud 
 over there. We shall have a squall, I fear. 
 I'll call the Captain." 
 
 So saying. True Blue vanished down the 
 gangway. Frank looked at the approaching 
 cloud. So rapi(My did it advance, that it 
 seemed indeed borne on the wings of the 
 wind. Dark, heavy and portentous was its ap- 
 pearance. Fold upon fold of its sombre mantle 
 did it stretch over the heavens, and by the 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 213 
 
 time the Captain, roused by True Blue, had 
 given in loud and rapid voice his orders to 
 " take in sail ! " and " wear ship ! " and they 
 had been obeyed, the storm in all its fury was 
 upon them. The forked lightning darted 
 almost incessantly from the wild, impending 
 cloud, the deep-toned thunder roared and 
 rolled continuously, the wind blew with terrific 
 violence, and the dark waves were lashed into 
 the wildest commotion, their ridgy tops, white 
 with foam, and rising and falling on the fierce 
 rushing billows, the schooner seemed momen- 
 tarily in danger of submersion. Frank felt 
 the hour to be one of deepest peril. Once 
 more he knew that he stood face to face with 
 death. And once more he felt that the hand 
 of a merciful God had turned away the unerr- 
 ing shaft, as after a season of suspense and 
 almost of dismay, the thunder ceased, the 
 wind lulled, the storm-cloud passed on, the 
 heavy rain-drops gave place to gentle mist, 
 
214 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 and only the wild waves still madly chasing 
 each other, remained to tell the tale of the 
 sudden and terrible storm. 
 
 Not so ! There was one other trace of the 
 destruction which was in the path of the 
 Storm King. OiT on their starboard bow was 
 a dark object. All eyes were turned toward 
 it. Spyglasses were brought into requisition, 
 and finally, as conjecture ripened to certainty, 
 the prow of the schooner was turned in that 
 direction, and with heavy hearts and anxious 
 forebodings they sailed on to reach it. Every 
 heart was sad. The older men feared some of 
 their own shipmates or townsmen had found a 
 watery grave, and Frank's heart throbbed in 
 sympathy with the rest. They neared the 
 dark object. It was the hull of a vessel, alas ! 
 she was bottom upwards. 
 
 " That squall struck her ! " said the Captain 
 to True Blue. The latter nodded. 
 
 " There couldn't have been many lives lost, 
 she's so small a craft." 
 
IHE RUNAWAY BOY. 215 
 
 "Thank God for that! There'll be less 
 sorrow in the fisherman's homes. Oh, 
 Thomas, what a life the sailor leads ! so full of 
 danger ! And what a life his family leads ! 
 Full of vain regrets and anxious forebodings ! " 
 
 " Are fishing vessels often lost ? " 
 
 " Often, very often ! Not a season passes 
 but some gallant craft, and often many vessels, 
 are wrecked on the rocky coasts or sand bars, 
 or founder in a storm at sea.'* 
 
 Meanwhile, as they drew nearer and nearer, 
 the up-turned vessel seemed slowly settling, 
 and one side seemed gradually to get lower 
 than the other. 
 
 " She's getting water soaked," exclaimed 
 True Blue, " or else the air is escaping. I 
 believe she'll sink before we get near enough 
 to see her name. I can't quite make it out 
 with my glass. The words are long enough 
 to spell Marblehead or Gloucester." 
 
 Even as he spoke the vessel half-righted. 
 
216 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 then slowly sunk with a loud, bubbling sound, 
 as she disappeared beneath the turbulent 
 billows. 
 
 " There ! that's the last we shall ever know 
 of her or her brave fellows. I pity their wives 
 and children that will only know their father's 
 was a missing vessel,^^ and tears stood in True 
 Blue's eyes, as he turned to the Captain, and 
 said, " I think, skipper, we ought to thank 
 God for our deliverance." 
 
 " Do so, my man, I'm willing. All hands 
 aft!" 
 
 All came to the side of the captain, and in 
 a voice broken with emotion, and words simple 
 and direct as his own straight forward nature, 
 True Blue gave thanks to God for their late 
 deliverance from imminent peril, kneeling 
 himself upon the deck, while all stood with 
 uncovered heads beside him, and Frank held 
 the tarpaulin of his friend in his hand. The 
 scene was one which impressed itself upon the 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOT. 217 
 
 mind of the youth. He could never forget it, 
 often afterward the memory of it awoke 
 thoughts of reverent gratitude to Him " who 
 holds the winds in His fist and the waters in 
 the hollow of His hand." 
 
 Many curious sights and customs did Frank 
 observe during this short " life on the ocean 
 wave." Among others he was quite amused 
 once when on board a mackerel schooner to 
 see the crew prepare a lure for the fishes, by 
 grinding up their bait small in a bait-mill. 
 The latter consists of an oblong wooden box, 
 containing a roller upon which knives are 
 fixed, and which is turned by a crank. Poor 
 fish of any kind, especially hardheads, are cut 
 up by it, and thrown overboard by pailfuls to 
 attract the mackerel, which are then caught 
 in large numbers, with great rapidity. 
 
 Frank enjoyed his sea-life exceedingly for 
 one who had been on the land all his life, till 
 he ran away. But the truth was, he was sel- 
 
218 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 dom sea-sick, never, except when just after 
 starting from port, or in very rough weather, 
 and not always then. He was wide awake to 
 ocean sights, and found pleasure in watching 
 the gambols of the whales and porpoises in 
 the water, and the hovering Mother Gary's 
 chickens that were to be seen in the air, or 
 snatching any refuse matter from the waves to 
 which it had been thrown. He liked to go on 
 deck in the early morning and watch the 
 coming of the King of day, as his dawning 
 light first revealed the far-stretching ocean 
 and the vessels that dotted its surface near 
 and far, and then its rosy beams tinging the 
 waters and bidding them sparkle in effulgent 
 beauty. He loved no less to witness the glory 
 of the dying day, the calm, bright loveliness 
 of the sunset hour, and the impressive twi- 
 light season when the broad heavens with its 
 extended horizon, began to reveal the wonders 
 of creation by its shimmering stars gleaming 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 219 
 
 in the skies, and reflected by the ocean mirror, 
 that stretched out in boundless grandeur 
 below. And often during his watch at night 
 did he pace the deck absorbed in the contem- 
 plation of the glowing skies that showed to 
 him so many mighty suns and systems moving 
 in changeless orbits, to the perfect music of 
 divine harmony, and awoke the remembrance 
 of other days, when with his sister, he studied 
 Astronomy in that far-off home he might never 
 see again. Then was his heart sad. Then 
 was it heavy, weighed down with the thought 
 of his great sin. 
 
 They reached Cape Ann in due season, 
 made Baker's Island light with great satisfac- 
 tion, and one glorious moonlight evening 
 rounded the rocky highland and entered the 
 harbor of Marblehead. 
 
 Frank's portion of the good " catch " they 
 had made proved to be no inconsiderable sum, 
 of which he enclosed twenty dollars to his 
 
220 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 mother, mailing his letter in Salem, but tell- 
 ing her he did not live there. 
 
 Oh, if he could but have seen her tear-wet 
 face, as she said, " I would rather see my lost 
 boy than all the money in New England ! " 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 TRUE BLUE IN THE ARMY. 
 
 RUE BLUE'S health was cer- 
 tainly better. He now desired 
 to be engaged in the service of 
 liis beloved country. His first 
 thought was to enter the Navy, 
 but as a large bounty was 
 offered to those who entered 
 the army, and he desired to secure that sum 
 of money that a dear sister, an orphan like 
 himself, might receive from it some benefit in 
 the event of his death on the battlefield or 
 hospital, he enlisted again in the Army of the 
 Potomac. 
 
 221 
 
222 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 He had some misgivings about his health, 
 lest he should not pass a surgical examination, 
 but he was successful, and finally enrolled 
 and equipped as a Sergeant in a company just 
 formed in his native town. His previous 
 acquaintance with military life, though brief, 
 was enough to give him place as an officer 
 among those who now came to fill up the 
 ranks. 
 
 He had many friends among his town's peo- 
 ple, and they testified in various ways, their 
 good wishes for his welfare during absence, 
 and his safe return. The eminently social 
 nature of the Marblehead people overflowed 
 towards him, and one evening he was made 
 the centre of a gathered circle of friends who 
 presented him with a silver-mounted pistol, 
 and in various ways strove to assure him of 
 their sympathy. One of the company sang in 
 soul-inspiring strains, a battle-song which was 
 written by a brother of the lady wlio wrot^c 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 223 
 
 " Do they miss me at home ? " 
 
 and was dedicated to the Marblehead volun- 
 teers. Its stirring words were as follows : 
 
 " When the land of our Fathers was shrouded in night, 
 
 And Hope in the spirit burned feeble and low, 
 Young Freedom came down from her wild mountain height 
 
 And stalked through the ranks of the Foe. 
 Her banner was blazoned by Irophies whose worth 
 
 "Was wrought by her blood-A^Titten story ; 
 And the thrill of her presence and rapture gave birth 
 
 To a Nation's uprising in glory ! 
 
 Her brow was as pure as her own mountain snow. 
 
 Her wild earnest eyes had a gleaming of steel ; 
 And the heave of her breast and her tresses' bright flow, 
 
 The young Child of Freedom reveal. 
 Oh ! proudly she gazed where the gleam of their camps 
 
 Showed the strength that her foemen could rally, 
 And proudly she smiled as the glittering ranks 
 
 Lay bleeding and crushed in the valley ! 
 
 Thus Freedom has smiled o'er the land of the Brave, 
 
 O'er hearts that were constant and true to the last ; 
 If the storm then sweep over our path, let it rave — 
 
 We can stand to the toil and the blast ! 
 Let us rally for Freedom as truly as when 
 
 The blood of our forefathers won her ? 
 Let us fight for our glorious Union, like men, 
 
 And be worthy the name that we honor ! " 
 
224 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 With a sad heart Frank bade his good friend 
 " good-bye " at the depot, as he started for the 
 " dark and bloody ground " of the South. 
 
 His regiment was stationed near Harrison's 
 Landing at the time he joined it, having 
 passed through the famous Peninsular Cam- 
 paign while he was out on the broad Atlantic. 
 Yery hot was the weather, and the camp by 
 no means the most comfortable place in the 
 world. But no discomfort could ruffle the 
 serenity of True Blue's Christian temper, — 
 no privation prevent him from performing his 
 whole duty to his country. 
 
 The days for some time were occupied with 
 picket duty and drill, and often at night, he 
 was on guard, pacing his lonely beat with 
 thoughts of his far-away home, and of his lone- 
 ly sister whose anxious thoughts and loving 
 solicitude he knew had followed him to the 
 scenes of danger and bloodshed. 
 
 One night, he was awakened from sleep by 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 225 
 
 the sudden call to arms which effectuallj dis- 
 tiu'bs a soldier's slumbers. The sudden and 
 rapid booming of camions and the whirring of 
 shells had broken the silence of the mid-night 
 hour, and all was commotion. It was discov- ■ 
 ered that the rebels had planted a battery on 
 the opposite side of the river, and were hoping 
 to inflict serious hijury on the union men. 
 But the great guns of True Blue's regiment 
 were soon brought to bear on them, and it was 
 not long before they were silenced. Some of 
 their shots, however, had taken effect, and 
 more than one. brave fellow who was defending 
 the Stars and Stripes was called to suffer as a 
 martyr for dear Liberty. 
 
 In the camp True Blue was a favorite. 
 The good loved him for his evident goodness, 
 the bad respected his mibending integrity, and 
 admired his social qualities and plainly appar- 
 ent bravery. Yet he did not fail to rebuke sin 
 wherever he saw it. 
 
226 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 One day a soldier rushed out of a tent ap- 
 parently in a state of great excitement, and 
 swearing fearfully. He saw True Blue as ho 
 reached the road, and instinctively gave the 
 military salute, at the same time apologizing 
 for what True Blue must have overheard, say- 
 ing in excuse, that the men inside had pro- 
 voked him and used just such words to him. 
 
 " Have we any right to get so provoked 
 as to use language that we know is not accept- 
 able in the ear of God ? " asked True Blue, 
 mildly. 
 
 " No, sir, I don't suppose we have," was tlie 
 answer. 
 
 "Do you suppose we ought to follow any 
 bad example ? Because another craft goes out 
 of the right channel and gets among rocks and 
 sand-bars, will true wisdom teach us to follow 
 in its wake ? " 
 
 " Oh, no sir. I agree with you, but I don't 
 stop to think." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 227 
 
 " I wish you could remember just this : 
 
 * To swear is neither brave, polite, nor wise^' 
 
 it would be better for you," said True Blue 
 'with a smile, and turned away. 
 
 " If they were all like you," called out the 
 private after him, " there wouldn't be any- 
 thino; to swear about." 
 
 There was another vice of the camp which 
 True Blue in practice and with earnest words 
 condemned. No strong drink ever passed his 
 lips, and he could never see men steeping their 
 senses in the vile potations of tlie tippler with- 
 out a kind but earnest protest against that 
 outrage upon humanity. He remembered the 
 Temperance Society in dear old Marblehead 
 with which her was connected, and he was 
 determined to be a Templar worthy of his 
 Knighthood. Pledged for life to abstain from 
 all intoxicating drinks, he never felt that ab- 
 sence from his Lodge gave him any liberty in 
 
228 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 the use of ardent spirits, or released him from 
 his solemn obligations. He was sometimes 
 put to the trial, but always came out like pure 
 gold from the furnace. 
 
 One day, during a long and weary march 
 beneath a burning sun, he was thirsty, and 
 longed for a draught of cool, refreshing water, 
 as much as ever traveller on Sahara longed 
 for the oasis with its fountain. His own can- 
 teen was empty. He had drained his last 
 drop. Faulting and exhausted he expressed a 
 wish for drink. A soldier near, with fi4endly 
 alacrity, offered him his own canteen. True 
 Blue lifted it to his lips, but ere he had tasted 
 a drop, the odor of whiskey was perceived, and 
 he returned it untouched to the owner, with a 
 sigh, and the words, " Oh, William, I wish 
 you would sign the temperance-pledge." 
 
 " Pshaw ! what harm will a little whiskey 
 do ! You need it. Call it a medicine and 
 ii'ink it." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 229 
 
 " No, not I. I've shaped my course too 
 long by the North Star of Total Abstinence, 
 and I won't lay off a single point." 
 
 " Not if you faint by the way ? " 
 
 " I think I can endure the privation, and I 
 would rather die than willfully break my 
 pledge. I signed it first to please my sainted 
 mother, when I was a boy, and I want to look 
 her in the face like a true man when I meet 
 her again." 
 
 The young soldier looked at True Blue a 
 moment ; then took his canteen, opened it, 
 reversed it, and poured every drop upon the 
 ground. 
 
 " There, sir, I'll sign the pledge when we 
 halt, and send word about it to my mother ; 
 it will make her heart glad, I know." 
 
 True Blue silently gave his hand to the 
 young man in token of a sympathy and appro- 
 bation beyond words. 
 
 The morning of the terrible battle of Antie- 
 
230 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 tarn airived. True Blue arose early, ere it 
 was scarcely day, and wrote a letter to his 
 only sister, and a few lines to Frank. He 
 knew a battle was before them, and he wished 
 to speak a few words which might possibly 
 be those of farewell. It was strange what a 
 hold that boy had on his heart, he thought, 
 but nevertheless, it was so, and therefore he 
 wrote — 
 
 " Dear Thomas : — 
 
 I am about to go into battle, I suppose, and 
 I write you a few words of friendly counsel as 
 they may be the last I can ever give you. I 
 need not tell you that I write as one who feels 
 a deep interest in you. You know it, my boy. 
 I saved your life as much because I liked you 
 as because it was my duty, and I want the 
 world should have reason to be glad I saved it. 
 Thomas, I want you to have Jesus for your 
 pilot. If I fall to-day I shall not see you on 
 earth again, but I want to be sure of meeting 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 231 
 
 you in heaven. Be a good boy to your moth- 
 er. I wish you could go back to her, and do 
 as well, for at your age, a boy is safer with his 
 mother. I would go back soon if I were you. 
 At any rate, that's my advice. You may have 
 it for what it is worth. 
 
 I cannot write you a long letter now. God 
 bless you, my boy ! Remember me to Mr. and 
 Mrs. Bartlett, and so good-bye. 
 Your old shipmate. 
 
 Ad. Martin." 
 
 This letter and the one to his sister he gave 
 to the chaplain who took charge of the mail, 
 and who was an especial friend to True Blue, 
 prizing greatly the services he rendered in the 
 regimental prayer-meetings and among the 
 sick. 
 
 The drums beat to arms, and the gallant 
 men formed in proper manner, and under 
 leaders brave and patriotic like themselves, 
 went forth to meet the enemy. The star- 
 
232 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 spangled banner waved proudly in the morn- 
 ing light, and every heart beat high with love 
 of country and dear liberty. 
 
 On they went, and on came the rebellious 
 foe. Brothers met brothers in blood, but not 
 in sentiment, for sanguinary conflict. Heavy 
 volleys of artillery and musketry were fired on 
 both sides. The carnage of the battlefield 
 began. Ghastly wounds, bleeding corses, gory 
 forms of horses and men, the groans and cries 
 of the wounded and dying, the stiff, stark 
 bodies of men whose warfare was accomplished, 
 chargers riderless, soldier's equipments strewn 
 on the ground, the occasional sound of the 
 drums and fifes as there was a lull in the 
 firing, the cheers of the combatants, the scream 
 of shells, the whirring of bullets, the incessant 
 report and rattle of musketry — these were 
 the sights and sounds of that awful hour. 
 
 True Blue was in the thickest of the fight. 
 For a while he seemed to bear a charmed life. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 233 
 
 His companions fell on all sides, but not a 
 bullet struck him, not a shell burst near him. 
 Cool and calm, with his heart trusting in God, 
 he performed his duty. 
 
 But his hour came. A minnie bullet tore 
 through the side of his face, and a shell pros- 
 trated him. He was borne from the field, by 
 men who wept as they turned to leave his 
 senseless form, and went back into the battle, 
 feeling sure that if they themselves survived, it 
 would not be to meet his welcome smile again. 
 
 That terrible day will never be forgotten. 
 Those other terrible days which followed! — 
 Oh, how many hearts bleed at the word — An- 
 tic tarn ! Brave hearts and noble souls heard 
 the roll-call of eternity that day, amid the 
 fierce strife for the supremacy of law and the 
 reign of liberty, and " went up higher," while 
 along the telegraphic wires flashed the sad 
 tidings of bereavement to the waiting, anxious 
 hearts at home. 
 
234 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 Death to those heroes was only another 
 name for Victory, and 
 
 " Freedom's battle, once begun, 
 Bequeathed from bleeding sire to son. 
 Though baflfled oft, is ever won." 
 
CHAPTFR XYI. 
 
 THE DYING SOLDIER. 
 
 ORNE from the battlefield as he 
 was, so soon, True Blue did not 
 share the hapless fate of many 
 of our wounded soldiers when 
 the rest were obliged to leave 
 during the few days that fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 He was tenderly cared for by the surgeons 
 and by the men who acted as nurses. Gen- 
 erous hearts connected with that noble na- 
 tional charity, the Sanitary Commission, min- 
 istered to his wants, and, though his wounds 
 were fearful, he lingered on, and was finally 
 
 235 
 
236 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 conveyed to a hospital not far from Washing- 
 ton. 
 
 One of the nurses in that hospital was a 
 Washington lady with whom Mary Nelson was 
 acquainted. She was present when True Blue 
 was brouglit to the hospital, and for several 
 days ministered to his wants without inquiring 
 his name. 
 
 One day, as she sat near him engaged in 
 preparing some bandages for his terrible 
 wounds, a young man entered, having on the 
 Federal uniform. His face looked familiar, 
 but his dress perhaps had altered him. 
 Though the nurse felt sure she had seen him 
 before, she could not recognize him fully. 
 
 " How are you. True Blue ? " was his first 
 salutation. 
 
 The wounded soldier recognized him at 
 once, pointed with a look of pride to his 
 uniform, and then said, with great effort, 
 " Almost home, Oscar." 
 
THE KUNAWAY BOY. 237 
 
 They conversed a few moments, Oscar doing 
 most of the talking, and the nurse having 
 moved away, so that they were alone. Thomas 
 Evans was one theme of their conversation. 
 The nurse was called away, but soon came 
 back with a young lady, who cast a sharp 
 glance ou the young man, and looked long and 
 kindly on the wounded soldier. Oscar noticed 
 her. He knew her, but knew also that she 
 did not know him, and little dreamed that the 
 older boy who had aided her brother to gain a 
 fancied freedom, was before her. 
 
 The nurse and Mary Nelson went away 
 again, and when the nurse came back, the 
 young man was gone, the wounded soldier was 
 asleep, and on the bed was a little note, thus 
 worded : 
 
 " Nurse, — Please tell the young lady who 
 was here with you this afternoon, that this 
 wounded soldier once saved her brother from 
 drowning. Yisitob." 
 
238 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 The suspicions of the nurse and Mary were 
 now confirmed. The nurse had only a little 
 while before heard Mary Nelson and her moth- 
 er talk of the absent Frank, and listened to his 
 letters. The name of his friend had been im- 
 pressed upon her memory, by the fact that she, 
 herself, was once called so by a dear friend 
 because of her constancy. When therefore 
 she heard the name, her thoughts went back 
 at once to that letter. Mary Nelson was in 
 the habit of visiting that hospital, in order to 
 give what "^omfort she could to the sick and 
 wounded soldiers, with her jellies, custards, 
 flowers and fruits. Her mother sometimes 
 accompanied her, or came without her, but 
 more rarely, as she could not be easily spared 
 from her home. The nurse was expecting 
 Mary when she heard that name, and it was 
 her intention to question Oscar after Mary had 
 departed, if he had not also so soon taken his 
 flight. But he was in the Army, and his fui^ 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 239 
 
 lough short. lie rightly concluded that if he 
 wrote that note, while it would not give any 
 clue to Frank's home, it might secure for 
 True Blue extra comfort and care. To give 
 Oscar due credit, his motive was really good, 
 and he wished to have the noble sailor cared 
 for very tenderly. His own family were out 
 of town, all of them. He had only just heard 
 of True Blue's state, and hastened to him at 
 once. By the side of the note lay a five dollar 
 bill with a small slip of paper wrapped within 
 it, on which Oscar had written, " ^?pend this 
 for the soldier." 
 
 The nurse, a conscientious, high-minded 
 woman, took charge of both notes and bill, 
 and spent it freely for her patient's comfort. 
 
 Towards night she was again sitting near 
 True Blue, who was lying awake, but quiet, 
 when the same young lady came to her. 
 
 " I could not stay away all night, Mrs. 
 Bruce : I was so impatient to hear if you could 
 learn anything of ray brother." 
 
240 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 ** Here is a note, which will interest you. 
 Perhaps we have a clue." 
 
 Mary read the note, then kissed it, and 
 exclaimed, " It must be true. Wliere did you 
 get this ? That young man ? " 
 
 Yes, he was gone when I got back, and left 
 this." 
 
 " And you do not know him ? " 
 
 " I've seen him somewhere, but I don 't 
 know his name." 
 
 " Perhaps he will come again." 
 
 " No, I don 't think he will ; for he evidently 
 did not mean to teU us any more, and if he 
 was coming again he would not have left the 
 note or the money, till his last call, I think." 
 
 " What can we do ? " 
 
 "Nothing, but take care of this dear sol- 
 dier." 
 
 " Can 't you ask hhn ? " 
 
 " The surgeon has forbidden any more con- 
 versation with him to-day. He says something 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 211 
 
 has excited him, and he is not as well. It 
 must be the visit of that young man." 
 
 True Blue's eyes were fixed on Mary's face, 
 and he beckoned to her, and whispered some- 
 thing. His eyes looked as if he saw more 
 than others could discern. Plainly, he was 
 not quite as clear-headed as he had been. 
 Delirium was approaching. 
 
 What he did say, was, " Thomas ? Come 
 Thomas ! " for Mary's likeness to her brother 
 deceived the failing faculties of the dying 
 man. He was dying — so the nurse said — so 
 the surgeon declared, and Mary left witli the 
 words, " I shall stay at home and let my 
 mother come to him. She will want to nurse 
 poor Frank's friend. You will let her." 
 
 The nurse bowed assent with tearful eyes, 
 and it was not long before Mrs. Nelson herself 
 was by the bedside of True Blue. Oh how 
 tenderly she bent above him I How she 
 smoothed his pillow, and bathed his brow, and 
 
242 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 rubbed his hands, and bound up his injured 
 leg, and ministered with a mother's love and 
 care to his wants, need not be told, for she 
 thought of Frank, and her heart blessed the 
 dying soldier with all the fullness of a moth- 
 er's gratitude. 
 
 The wound in his cheek made it difficult for 
 True Blue to converse, so that even when not 
 delirious, it was not easy to learn anything 
 from him. How Mrs. Nelson longed to ask of 
 Frank! But she schooled her mother-heart 
 and was loyal enough to be also self-denying. 
 It was a hard task, but it was bravely accom- 
 plished. It was rendered a little easier from 
 the fact that the partial delirium of the patient 
 precluded the idea of many straight forward 
 answers. 
 
 Mrs. Nelson felt her duty to be plain. She 
 was to watch over the dying volunteer till he 
 should go hence. When she first came he 
 was asleep, ever and anon groaning aloud. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 243 
 
 His troubled slumber came to an end, and 
 then, at first, he stared wildly at her, and 
 finally appeared to take but little notice of 
 anything. 
 
 When the surgeon next saw him, he said, 
 shaking his head impressively, " There's a 
 gi-eat change — a great change." 
 
 " How long may he live ? " inquired Mrs. 
 Nelson. 
 
 " Perhaps a day or two : perhaps not an 
 hour. He may brighten up and speak again." 
 
 And he did thus brighten. The clocks of 
 the distant city were just telling the midnight 
 hour, when True Blue opened his eyes, and 
 looked at Mrs. Nelson. He smiled. There 
 was a strange light in his dying eyes. It was 
 the light of life's parting moment. Mrs. 
 Nelson knew it. She beckoned to the nurse, 
 and the latter summoned quickly from other 
 couches the surgeon and the chaplain. The 
 latter, though Mrs. Nelson did not know it, 
 
244 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 was an acquaintance of the dying soldier, and 
 was his chaplain when he was with the three 
 month's men. He felt, therefore, a peculiar 
 interest in the departing patriot. 
 
 For some little time True Blue glanced 
 from one to the other. Mrs. Nelson held his 
 hand, and bathed his pale brow, with the cool 
 ice water which was near. The surgeon stood 
 with an ominous gaze looking upon the placid 
 face, which despite the bandages, was not un- 
 pleasant in appearance. 
 
 Suddenly True Blue raised his hands, and 
 looked towards Mrs. Nelson. Faintly, and yet 
 clearly enough to be well understood by all, 
 he said — 
 
 " Have you come back from heaven, moth- 
 er ? Fm so glad. Kiss me, my — mother ! " 
 
 Mrs. Nelson could not withstand that plead- 
 ing look, those touching words ; she leaned 
 over his lowly couch, and her lips met those 
 of the dying soldier. He kissed, as he thought, 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOT. 245 
 
 his precious mother who had long been resting 
 from her labors — she kissed the saviour of 
 her darling boy. 
 
 A mist gathered over the surgeon's eyes, 
 and he was about to turn away to hide the 
 fast-coming tears, but he looked up and saw 
 tliat down the chaplain's cheeks the bright, 
 crystal drops were rolUng ; then he turned not 
 away, for he felt that it was manly in that 
 hour to weep. The nurse sobbed audibly. 
 Only on the faces of the dying man — for the 
 dying never weep — and on that of the mother 
 who bent above him, and who seemed for a 
 season, as it were, lifted out of herself, that 
 she might be the bright, dear face to comfort 
 the suffering spirit, were there no tears. 
 
 True Blue still looked at Mrs. Nelson with 
 a long, lingering gaze. 
 
 " You are going to Jesus ? " asked she. 
 
 "Yes — anchor — in heaven." And again 
 he smiled. "Once more, my — darling-- 
 mother ? " 
 
246 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 She bent again over his dying bed and 
 kissed him for his mother. His eyes closed, 
 and he never opened them again. A solemn 
 pause, and then the surgeon broke the tearful 
 stillness with the words, " he is gone ! '* Ten- 
 derly and reverently Mrs. Xclson laid his 
 hands across his breast, and drew the counter- 
 pane above them, then bent and kissed the 
 brow of the dead soldier. Drawing some 
 scissors from her pocket, she cut a large curl 
 from the motionless head, and turning to the 
 surgeon and chaplain, said softly, through tears 
 that then fell fast as summer rain, " He saved 
 the life of my only son ! This is for him." 
 
CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 BURIED UNDER ARMS. 
 
 AR away in Marblehead, Frank 
 read the papers, that gave an 
 account of the battle of Antie- 
 tam. He knew that True 
 Blue's regiment was there, and 
 he almost expected the next 
 news that came, which was that 
 a long list of Marblehead men were killed, 
 and among them True Blue. 
 
 Then came a letter from an officer who was 
 spared, and he gave True Blue's name as 
 among those who were only wounded, and 
 Frank's heart, which had been grief-stricken, 
 revived. 
 
 247 
 
248 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 " You think he is certainly alive, don 't 
 you ? " he asked, with trembling eagerness, of 
 his employer. 
 
 " This letter says so, and the writer is a 
 reliable man." 
 
 " But does he know what he writes about?" 
 
 Mrs. Bartlett smiled a good humored smile. 
 
 " No matter if I am a little unreasonable, 
 True Blue was a good friend to me. He saved 
 my life, and ho loved me, for his last letter 
 shows it, and his conduct towards me proved 
 it. I love him, and I can 't help feeling bad 
 about the news, anyway." And the poor 
 fellow sobbed aloud. Alas ! his sorrows were 
 only commencing. 
 
 " Don't feel so bad, my boy," said Mr. Bart- 
 lett, " he is in God's hands there as well as 
 here. He caimot get out of His reach, and 
 you know he needs no better friend." 
 
 That afternoon brought a letter from the 
 chaplain of his regiment tellmg the story of 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 249 
 
 his woimds, and euding with the assurance 
 that he was soon to be taken to Washington, 
 and placed in the hospital there. 
 
 " I wish my sister or my mother would go 
 to him and take care of him," said Frank to 
 Mrs. Bartlett as he folded the letter and re- 
 turned it to her ; he little thought that his wish 
 was being so far fulfilled that his mother was 
 there, as we have seen, to close the dying eyes 
 of his noble friend. 
 
 And he almost resolved to write a letter to 
 his mother, telling her just where he was, and 
 all about True Blue, and askmg her to seek 
 out his kind friend, and minister to his needs. 
 
 Before he had fairly begun his letter, how- 
 ever, came a telegraphic despatch announcing 
 to the only sister of True Blue and his other 
 relatives, that he had gone up to his reward : 
 that the noble heart which beat with patriotic 
 fervor for the cause of his dear native land and 
 her holy institutions, was still forever. 
 
250 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 Frank was sitting at his work, when Mr. 
 Bartlett, who had been to carry some finished 
 shoes to liis employer, came in with the sad 
 and unwelcome intelligence. He dropped his 
 awl and listened as Mr. Bartlett said softly to 
 his wife, who was near, " We shall not meet 
 our dear friend Martin again on earth. The 
 Skipper has heard the summons and gone 
 home." 
 
 " Oh, how I wish I was in Washington ! " 
 sobbed out the heart-stricken boy. There 
 arose in his heart an utterable longing to see 
 that dear face once more, even though he 
 must see it with the stamp of dissolution upon 
 it. 
 
 " The remains are to be sent home, so the 
 telegram said." 
 
 "If so, I hope they will be in such a state 
 that we can look at him," said ^Irs. Bartlett. 
 
 " Probably they will be embalmed," said 
 Mr. Bartlett, " for I heard True Blue say he 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 251 
 
 should leave both written and verbal directions 
 for his body to be embalmed and sent home, 
 in case of his death in a hospital, for he 
 thought it would be a comfort to his sister." 
 
 " How thoughtful always for others ! " ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Bartlett, and Frank's heart 
 echoed her words. As soon as he had learned 
 all Mr. Bartlett had to tell about it, he began 
 to crave solitude, and sought his own chamber. 
 There he wept without restraint. It mattered 
 not how old or how big a boy he was, the tears 
 would come, and he had neither the power nor 
 the will to control them. He wept chiefly at 
 tlie reflection of his own want of candor with 
 that noble and true-hearted friend. He ought 
 to have repaid his kindness and friendship by 
 entire confidence, and not have played the 
 hypocrite as he did. Now he could never tell 
 that wise friend his peculiar circumstances, 
 or hear from him the words of advice which 
 he needed. But one thing was a little com- 
 
2.32 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 forting. The remains were to be brought 
 home. The untenanted clay was to repose 
 beside the ashes of his parents in Marblehead. 
 This was a matter of real thanksgiving, and as 
 he thought of it — thought of the privilege he 
 should have of strewing flowers above the dust 
 of his dear friend, and of musing often beside 
 his grave, he wiped his eyes, and, in no mood 
 for work, but fearing Mr. Bartlett might need 
 him, he proceeded to the work room once 
 more. 
 
 " We've been reckoning up," said Mr. 
 Bartlett, '' and we think the remains will be 
 here the last of the week. There will be a 
 letter and then we shall know." 
 
 " We shall go of course ? " asked Frank, 
 with an awl ready to let drop in case there 
 was a negative answer, for he never could have 
 made another shoe for a man who declined 
 attendance on the obsequies of one so loyal 
 and gentle and noble as True Blue. 
 
THn RUNAWAY COY. 253 
 
 " Wc siiall all go. I shouldn't wonder if 
 there was a public funeral, and the Governor 
 should be there." 
 
 " He deserves the presence of the Governor, 
 as much as any man that dies for the flag. 
 He died a Sergeant, I suppose, but he deserved 
 to be a Lieutenant or Captain." 
 
 "Did you not know he was promoted ? " 
 
 «No — washe?" 
 
 " Yes, to be a Lieutenant. ' His commission 
 was made out a week before he fell in action, 
 but it was dated some time back." 
 
 " Then he will be buried as a Lieutenant ? " 
 
 " Yes, and let him have all the honors we 
 can give him, but after all what comforts me 
 most is that I can say, thinking of him, 
 
 ' Asleep in Jesus ! blessed sleep, 
 From which none ever wake to weep.' 
 
 He is asleep in Jesus, and now enjoys 
 
 * A calm and undisturbed repose, 
 Unbroken by the last of foes ? " 
 
254 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 Frank and liis employer worked diligently 
 on their new lot of shoes, that they might the 
 more easily leave their work on that day of 
 days to Frank. 
 
 The hour came. Frank and Mrs. Bartlett 
 stood side by side in the depot. Oh, how they 
 wished it was the living, tangible True Blue 
 whom they had come to meet, instead of the 
 grim, cold, stony corse ! But God had ordered 
 otherwise. Mr. Bartlett, schooled as he was 
 to thoughts of piety, felt submissive, but sad. 
 Frank was rebellious. He could not see, for 
 his part, why such men as True Blue had to 
 die, and worse men live on till everybody gets 
 tired of them. 
 
 The whistle sounded. The cars were com- 
 ing from Salem. Boston passengers and 
 others were on board. Much baggage also. 
 But one long narrow box was of special inter- 
 est to Frank and his employer, and to others 
 who had gathered for the same purpose. Soon 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 255 
 
 they saw the sexton and others carry that box 
 and place it where they could remove the 
 coffin from within it. It was a plain but 
 neat coffin, covered with dark blue cloth, 
 decked with silvery stars on the top. It was 
 borne to the place assigned for the night, and 
 thither followed Mr. Bartlett and the runaway 
 boy. ^ They opened the coffin, and the friends 
 of the departed soldier — the crowned con- 
 queror — tlie patriot martyr — looked once 
 more upon the features of him whom they had 
 so dearly loved. Tears were on faces that 
 turned away to hide them. FraTik didn't turn 
 away, though he wept bitterly. Touching that 
 forehead with his hand, as he gave the dear 
 head thus a slight caress, he was surprised to 
 find it so cold — and so icy. 
 
 "He was True Blue to the end," said a 
 young man near. " He could never be any- 
 thing but good, from a child, I have heard say, 
 and certainly I never saw one so perfect.*' 
 
256 THE RUNAWAY BOY 
 
 Many other words of eulogy were spoken, 
 but none more true than Frank's when he 
 said, " he saved my life once, and I believe he 
 would die first before he would let any one 
 suffer for want of help." 
 
 " He has died for his country in her hour of 
 need," spoke the minister of the Gospel who 
 stood near, " and thus dying has scaled his 
 allegiance, declared patriotism, and written his 
 name among 
 
 * the few, the immortal names 
 That were not born to die.' " 
 
 On the morrow, after the long morning 
 hours had given a loyal, mourning towns' 
 people an opportunity of looking upon the 
 countenance of one whom they respected and 
 loved, the funeral honors were rendered to the 
 heroic dead. He was " buried under arms," 
 as the phrase is ; that is, the body was accom- 
 panied to the grave by a military escort. The 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 207 
 
 flag of his countiy, with its beautiful folds, 
 draped his coffiu as it stood beueath the pulpit 
 of the church wherein he was wont to worship. 
 From the lips of the revered pastor came 
 words of truthful eulogy and Gospel comfort, 
 and when the last word had been spoken, the 
 last prayer offered, the closing liymn sung, 
 with its sad and pathetic melody, the coffin 
 wa§ borne to the hearse by young men in the 
 imiform of loyal soldiers, while tlie home» 
 guard, their ranks increased by newly-enlisted 
 men and furloughed soldiers who were in town, 
 followed respectfully, with voice of muffled 
 drum, and the shrill fife and other instruments 
 sounding the sweet, solemn music of " Pleyel's 
 Hymn " — music which this war and its con- 
 sequent funerals have made mournfully famil- 
 iar — with banner half-unfurled, and reversed 
 arms, sought the final earthly resting place of 
 the man whom they delighted to honor. 
 There they paused, and stepping forward from 
 the ranks, the chosen men fired the farewell 
 
258 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 volleys over the grave, then turn away and 
 leave " ashes to ashes, dust to dust," but com- 
 forted, no doubt, with the thought of " Jesus 
 and the resurrection " — God and immortal- 
 ity! 
 
 Words can but faintly express the emotions 
 of the runaway boy in those solemn hours. 
 In his heart was a sharp conflict. He was 
 looking the question of his present duty stern- 
 ly in the face. He was grappling with the 
 idea of repentance. And he finally yielded. 
 
 By the new-made grave of his heroic 
 friend — that same evening in the starlight — 
 he stood, and communed with himself of thft 
 Past, the Present, and the Future, and then 
 and there resolved that he would return to his 
 mother — money or no money — freedom or 
 no freedom — and with penitence true as his 
 present sorrow was deep and sincere, would 
 ask for the pardon which alone could make 
 earth bright and joyous to him again. 
 
 Meanwhile, where was the runaway's sister ? 
 
CHAPTER XVIIT. 
 
 THE sister's search. 
 
 ^^^:n^>tW ^S. NELSON went home to 
 /^^ Ml hII ri her daughter from that 
 death-bed with a new hope 
 in her heart. She had in- 
 quired of the Chaplain con- 
 cerning the soldier over 
 whose path she had been 
 permitted to cast a ray of sunlight, and found 
 that his home was in Marblehead ; at least he 
 had enlisted as from that place. With this 
 slight clue, and the knowledge that his name 
 was Martin, she felt quite happy as she sought 
 her home, for she had a plan in her mind, 
 
 259 
 
260 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 which, if successfully accomplished, might 
 give back her beloved son to her embrace 
 again. 
 
 Her daughter met her at the door. " Why, 
 mother, you are back much earlier than I 
 supposed. I thought you would stay several 
 days." 
 
 " No, my dear, for the soldier has ceased to 
 need human aid. He has gone to our Father 
 in heaven." 
 
 " So soon ? " 
 
 " Yes, and we cannot regret it, for he suf- 
 fered much, and the surgeon said he could 
 never be a well man again, even if he had 
 rallied so as to be about." 
 
 " But I do wish he could have told us about 
 Frank." 
 
 " So do I, dear, but such was not God's 
 will, and we must be resigned." 
 
 " I try to be, but it is so hard. I do miss 
 Frank so very much." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 261 
 
 " Come ill the parlor, my dear, and sit down 
 by me on this sofa." Mary did so, and her 
 mother continued ; " His absence has been a 
 great grief to me, you know, my daughter. I 
 was not well wlien he left us, and it has 
 seemed as if anxiety for him has made me 
 worse. I know it has, and I cannot live much 
 longer without my boy." 
 
 Here the fortitude of the mother gave way, 
 and a burst of tears followed. Mary wept in 
 sympathy, and because of her own grief at his 
 absence. 
 
 " But, mother," said she, in a few moments, 
 " have we not a clue to Frank ? Did you ask 
 where Ti'ue Blue belonged ? " 
 
 " I did make that inquiry and learned also 
 his name, and all the way home, I comforted 
 myself with the idea that we can send to that 
 place, and find out. But I did not ask the 
 name my dear, misguided boy bears. No one 
 could have told me that. And it seems to me 
 
262 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 now, that, after all, the knowledge I have will 
 be of little avail." 
 
 " Mother, I do believe we shall have him 
 again, and soon. What say you to have me 
 go and look for him myself ? I will start for 
 Marblehead as soon as I can possibly get 
 ready, and hunt there for him." 
 
 " How will you proceed ? Will it be of any 
 use to find the friends of this dear soldier who 
 has just gone ? If we only knew Frank's 
 name, we could get their address from the 
 hospital perhaps, and write to them at once." 
 
 " Yes, but mother, it would be of little use, 
 for if Frank was determined not to come 
 home, as soon as he heard of this letter he 
 might go away, and then we should have no 
 clue whatever to him. It seems to me that I 
 had better go myself. I think he would not 
 refuse to return with me." 
 
 " What would you do first when you get 
 there ? " 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 263 
 
 "Hunt for liiin among the shoe manufac- 
 tories. You know he said he had been 
 making shoes." 
 
 " Well, my child, you may go. I don't like 
 to have you travel alone, but I cannot leave 
 myself, or I would go with you." 
 
 " Perhaps I can find some one going as far 
 as New York. From there I could easily get 
 to Boston, and you know you have always 
 taught me that a lady can travel alone in the 
 New England States without fear of annoy- 
 ance." 
 
 So the matter was decided. In a few days 
 Mary's preparations were made ; her music 
 pupils informed of her intended absence for a 
 short time, and a gentleman and his sister 
 found who were going as far as New York. 
 With the buoyant hopes of youth, chastened- 
 a little by the remembrance of the haunting 
 grief which she had felt ever since the morning 
 when Frank's note was found lying on his 
 
264 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 table, Mary started on her errand of mercy. 
 Like the dear Saviour who " came to seek and 
 to save that which was lost," she went forth 
 hoping to redeem her brother, to save him 
 from further waywardness, and to restore him 
 to his loving, grief-stricken mother. A noble 
 errand ! A faithful sister ! 
 
 The journey to New York was one freed 
 from anxiety or care, and very pleasant to 
 Mary. Her friends saw her on board the 
 steamer, fairly started for Boston, and then 
 bade her " good bye," and she was left alone. 
 It was about four o'clock in the afternoon, 
 and a calm, bright day. The steamer passed 
 through Hurl-gate without the tossing and 
 pitchings usually known in that vicmity. The 
 water was calm, and scarce a breaker ruffled 
 the smooth surface. Little conception could 
 be then realized of its mjelstrom appearance 
 when its waves are lashed into fury, and the 
 storm-king rides in triumph over the mad- 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 265 
 
 dened, foaming billows. And well was it for 
 Mary that the voyage was so pleasant, since 
 she had seldom seen the ocean, and never 
 sailed far on it, and the horrible demon of sea- 
 sickness might have made her trip exceedingly 
 disagreeable. As it was, she was able to eat 
 her supper with the rest of the passengers, 
 then retired to her berth, slept soundly while 
 the boat was passing Point Judith, and took 
 tlie cars for Boston at last, with renewed hope 
 and restored energies. 
 
 On her arrival in Boston, she was delayed 
 for some hours by transacting some business 
 for a friend, and finally readied the Eastern 
 Depot, just as the evening train, which con- 
 nects at Salem with the Marblehead branch, 
 were about leaving. She had studied her 
 route so well that she had only to ask the 
 rapid question — " Do these cars go to 
 Salem ? " hear the answer, " yes," — and jump 
 on board. Her baggage was in a small valise 
 
266 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 which she fortunately had in her hand, and 
 was therfore not delayed hy stopping to care 
 for it. 
 
 On whirled the cars, out of the city, past 
 the State's Prison, Bunker Hill Monument, the 
 McLean Asylum — on and on. All was new 
 and strange to Mary, and as the shadows of 
 evening gathered, she began to feel a little 
 depressed. 
 
 When she entered the car she found it 
 pretty full. A lady, however, had beckoned 
 to her, and she found a seat by her side. No 
 words had passed between them except a quiet 
 '' Thank you," from Mary, in grateful acknowl- 
 edgement for the seat. 
 
 But as they passed through Lynn, Mary 
 observed that the houses were numerous, and 
 fancying that it was a city and might be 
 Salem, she turned to the lady and asked if 
 they had reached Salem. 
 
 " Not yet," was the simple answer. " This 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 267 
 
 is Lynn, Swampscott will be the next town, 
 then Salem." 
 
 The words were few, but the tone spoke 
 volumes. It was as if the speaker had com- 
 prehended at once the young girl's need, and 
 was ready to be of service. Mary looked more 
 attentively at her. She was a tall, large 
 woman, yet, though so large there was nothing 
 unpleasantly masculine about her. Her face 
 was full of an expression at once benevolent 
 and energetic. Mary felt, instinctively, that 
 she was in the presence of a woman who was 
 both good and great — gifted intellectually 
 and spiritually. From the speaking eyes look- 
 ed forth a soul which was at once submissive 
 to God's will, but imperial in the assertion of 
 its own, where duty allowed. There was a 
 queenliness about her companion, which did 
 lot oppress Mary, but gave her confidence. 
 
 As for Mary — her companion seemed to 
 read her at once. Gentle, loving, confiding, 
 
I 
 
 268 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 she was just the one for the stroiig-souled 
 woman at her side to clasp in the embrace of a 
 sisterly regard, and to care for with half- 
 maternal interest. 
 
 They began to converse ; at first about road- 
 side objects, then of the country and the war. 
 The lady, whom we will call Hester, was clad 
 in deep mourning, and Mary rightly concluded 
 she had lost a friend — perhaps lost one who 
 was a martyr for dear liberty. But Hester's 
 grief prevented her mention of the fact, and 
 Mary's diffidence prevented her from asking. 
 
 Frank and Mary were much alike in many 
 things, but very different in some others. 
 Frank, with a heavy secret lying on his heart, 
 was genial, talkative, mirthful and communi- 
 cative. Mary, with nothing to hide, was quiet, 
 almost shrinking, and taciturn if not reticent. 
 
 Therefore in all this conversation Mary did 
 not once give her travelling companion any 
 clue to her errand or deskes. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 2(39 
 
 At last the cars rumbled into the Salem 
 Dejx>t. The couductor announced in a luud, 
 shrill voice, that passengers must here change 
 cars for Marblehead. 
 
 Mary arose. So did Hester, thinking, if she 
 thought at all aljout it, that Mary arose in 
 order to give her an opportunity to pass out. 
 But Mary followed. 
 
 " Ah ! do you go to Marblehead ? " asked 
 she, as Mary asked the conductor who helped 
 her from the cars, where she should go to find 
 the cars for Marblehead. 
 
 . " Yes, I am going there," answered Mary. 
 
 " Come right along with me then, I'll show 
 you." 
 
 And Mary gladly followed her benevolent 
 guide, and was soon again seated beside her, 
 and rolling along over the rails. 
 ; " Can you tell me about the shoemakers in 
 Marblehead ? " asked Mary. 
 
 This was rather a strange question, and 
 
( 
 
 270 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 Hester opened her large eyes. " There are a 
 great many of them," she answered quietly. 
 
 "I mean, can you tell me how to find 
 them ? " 
 
 " In their workshops, I presume." 
 
 The tone was a little cold, as if the ques- 
 tions made Mary seem somewhat mysterious 
 to her companion. Mary felt this, and per- 
 ceived that she ought to be more outspoken. 
 
 " I will tell you what I really want. My 
 dear young brother has been a runaway for 
 about two years, and I am in search of him. 
 We have reason to think he is in Marblehead, 
 and as he wrote us word that he had been 
 making shoes, we thought that inquiry among 
 the shoemakers might end in restoring our lost 
 boy to his home again." i 
 
 " I will help you all I can, for I pity you 
 from my heart. You must go to the shoe- 
 factories — I'll go with you. I hope the in- 
 quiry will not be fruitless, nor do I think it 
 wiU be." 
 
) 
 
 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 271 
 
 Frank's name and age were mentioned, and 
 all the circumstances of his early and runaway 
 life were narrated, except that no mention was 
 made of True Blue, for the lady's mourning 
 made Mary cautious about speaking of one 
 who had recently died, lest she might awaken 
 strong and sad emotions. 
 
 The ride to Marblehead was soon accom- 
 plished, and following Hester, Mary descended 
 from the car, and her stranger foot pressed the 
 soil of Frank's refuge. 
 
 " We will go immediately to a good friend 
 of mine, who has a large shoe factory, perhaps 
 Frank may be there. It will be of no use to 
 ask for him by name, for no one would know 
 him, as he has changed his name." 
 
 They soon reached the house of Mr. Erno. 
 The store was already closed, therefore they 
 sought him at his residence. He promised in 
 the morning to hunt with them for the run- 
 away, and did not think there was one in his 
 
!72 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 own establishment. Mary tliouglit to herself, 
 " If Frank were in his employ, he would 
 surely know him, for this Mr. Erno is so 
 genial, so gentlemanly and kind." 
 
 " Now where shall I go ? " was Mary's next 
 question. " I must find a hotel." 
 
 " Our hotel is a good one in some respects, 
 yet may not be just the place for a lone young 
 woman ; that is, you would feel more lonely 
 than if you remained with Hester. I advise 
 her to take you home with her." 
 
 " I had not thought of it," answered Hester, 
 " but you are right. She would feel much 
 better with me, than alone at a pul^lic house. 
 Will you accompany me to my boarding- 
 place ? " 
 
 " Most willingly," replied Mary, and the 
 twain went forth from Mr. Erno's hospitable 
 mansion together. Somehow as they walked 
 along the rugged, crooked streets they seemed 
 to be very near each other. Some strange. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 273 
 
 subtle power seemed to draw their souls to- 
 gether, and a feelhig of the utmost confidence 
 sprang up between them. 
 
 " Oh, how I do long to see my brother ! " 
 was Mary's exclamation, after they had walked 
 a little way in silence. 
 
 " I am glad your brother is yet on earth," 
 was the response. " There is more chance of 
 your seeing hun, than I shall ever have of see- 
 ing my dear and only brother. God has taken 
 him home." 
 
 The tone was one full of resignation, but 
 Mary felt the strong arm on which she was 
 leaning quiver, as if with the thrill of anguish. 
 
 " Were you with him? " asked Mary, hesi- 
 tatingly, for she feared to probe the wound, 
 and yet she felt an unconquerable interest in 
 asking about the departed brother. 
 
 "xVlas! no," replied Hester, mournfully, 
 " he died far away fi*om me, in a hospital, and 
 I, who was then teaching, away from this 
 
274 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 place, did not even hear that he was wounded, 
 till the news came of his death. I would have 
 gone to him. I am his only sister, and we 
 were orphans. Sometimes I feel as if I could 
 not give him up even for his country's sake, 
 and then again I am calm, and feel that all is 
 for the best." 
 
 " Where was the hospital ? " 
 
 " In Washington. Not so far away but that 
 I could have gone. I could feel more com- 
 forted if I knew he had kind attendance in his 
 last hours." 
 
 " I have visited some of the Washington 
 hospitals, and found good nurses there." 
 
 " I know there are noble men and women 
 among the attendants at those hospitals, and 
 the agents of the Commissions — Sanitary and 
 Christian — are kind and attentive to our sick 
 and wounded soldiers." 
 
 '' My mother was there not long ago, and 
 muiistered to one young man in his last mo- 
 ments. Hs was from Marblehead." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 275 
 
 " From Marblehcad ! " 
 " Yes, and his name was Martin." 
 " Martin ? and Hester impulsively caught 
 the hand of the fair young girl at her side, 
 'who continued — " We did not learn any more 
 of him, except that he sometimes bore the 
 name of ' True Blue.' " 
 
 " My brother ! my own dear brother ! " ex- 
 claimed Hester. " And 7/our mother took care 
 of him in his last hours. Oh, hurry along 
 home with me ! I cannot do too much for 
 you ! " 
 
 As they went Mary told all she knew of 
 True Blue — her brother's casual mention of 
 him in a letter — her call upon the hospital 
 nurse, and the mention of True Blue's pseu- 
 donym which attracted attention and awoke 
 curiosity — the note from Oscar, which Mary 
 afterward showed to Hester, having taken it 
 with her to show to Frank — the efforts of her 
 mother in behalf of the young soldier, the 
 affecting scene of the final hour. 
 
276 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 Hester's tears fell fast, and yet her heart 
 was gladdened. She knew now that her 
 precious brother was tenderly cared for, and 
 that he was willing to depart, and, with a 
 grateful heart, she renewed her assurances to 
 Mary that on the morrow she would aid her in 
 looking for her brother Frank, and leave no 
 stone unturned till they found him, if he was 
 in Marblehead. 
 
 The morrow dawned, a bright and sunny 
 day. Hester and Mary were early astir, and 
 not much time elapsed ere they had taken 
 breakfast, and were ready for the search. 
 
 They went first to Mr. Erno's manufactory, 
 a large establishment where many hands were 
 employed. Mr. Erno met them at the door. 
 
 " I have made diligent inquiry for Frank 
 Nelson, but no one has heard of such a name, 
 so he has not revealed it. I have inquired 
 concerning the boys that work for us, but find 
 no one that agrees with your description." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 277 
 
 Mary's countenance fell. " Do not be dis- 
 heartened. We will inquire eleswhere. I 
 will accompany you.'* So saying, Mr. Erno 
 got his hat, and started out upon the search 
 with the two sorrowing sisters. 
 
 They walked on briskly. Every boy she 
 met Mary watched, and sometimes peered 
 eagerly and inquiringly into their faces. 
 
 Hester told Mr. Erno the good news Mary 
 had imparted concerning her own hero-brother, 
 and Mr. Erno, who esteemed True Blue, felt a 
 more lively interest in Mary and her search. 
 
 They called at every shoe-factory in the 
 place, and Mr. Erno made the most exhaust- 
 ing inquiry, but all in vain. 
 
 They then returned to Mr. Erno's establish- 
 ment. 
 
 " I feel just as if he was one of your boys," 
 said Mary. 
 
 " Well, sit down, ladies. Wlio knows but 
 that he may come in while you are here, 
 
278 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 though I know nothing of him. Stranger 
 things tlian that have happened. Providence 
 works miracles in our days, sometimes, though 
 after a diflferent method than in the Saviour's 
 time. I'm sure it is ahnost like a miracle — 
 your falling in with Hester." 
 
 " But if I could only find my runaway 
 brother.'' 
 
 Just before Mr. Erno had begun to speak, a 
 man entered, and stood waiting to accost him. 
 He could not help hearing the words of both 
 Mr. Erno and Mary, and he spoke on the im- 
 pulse of the moment, " I can tell you where 
 he is." 
 
 Mary sprang to her feet, followed by Hester. 
 All turned inquiring glances upon the speaker. 
 
 " At least, I think I can. I have a boy in 
 my employ, and at my home, who this morn- 
 ing told me he was a runaway. We never 
 dreamed of it, for he has uniformly behaved 
 like a good and honest lad. He only told us 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 279 
 
 that fact, and then left the room in tears, and 
 I've not seen him since. His mind is greatly 
 troubled now, but as True Blue would say, 
 He'll soon cast anchor and be at rest.' " 
 
 " True Blue ! " exclaimed Hester, and she 
 aid lier hand on Mr. Bartlett's arm. " I'm 
 his sister." 
 
 " Pardon me, if I have hurt your feelings 
 by thus mentioning Skipper Martin, but he 
 was a dear friend to me. I saw a great deal 
 of him, and have got into a habit of quoting 
 his sea-speeches." 
 
 " It is all right, sir," said Hester, with a 
 look of grateful pride. 
 
 " Wliat name does the boy bear of whom 
 you told us ? " asked Mary. 
 
 " We call him Thomas Evans, but I 
 houldn 't wonder if it was an assumed name, 
 {.nd that his name was Frank, for he always 
 looks up at that name, and seems so accus- 
 tomed to it, that I've sometimes laughed at 
 
280 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 him and told him he'd better change his 
 name." 
 
 " It must be my long lost brother. Oh, do 
 
 let me go to him ! " 
 
 "No, my young friend," exclaimed Mr. 
 Erno, " let me go. You wait with Hester, 
 and I will jump into my carriage, and bring 
 him to you very soon." 
 
 Mr. Erno departed on his errand of mercy, 
 his benevolent heart glowing with the satisfac- 
 tion he felt in rendering aid to a fellow being. 
 He was soon at Mr. Bartlett's house. The 
 moment his eyes rested on Frank, he knew 
 him, for he had seen him at Temperance and 
 other meetings, and besides he had met him 
 on the streets, and marked the politeness with 
 which Frank always accosted him. Mr. Erno 
 was what one might call a public man, usually 
 a selectman, on the school committee and 
 holding various other town offices. So every 
 boy ill town knew him, whether he knew the 
 boy or not. 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 281 
 
 Mr. Erno rapped at Mr. Bartlett's door — 
 the door of the work-shop, which was attached 
 to the house. Frank opened it. 
 
 " Good morning, young man ! " exclaimed 
 Mr. Erno, in his own frank, genial way, and 
 entered. Mrs. Bartlett happened to be in the 
 work-shop binding some shoes. Mr. Erno 
 greeted her cordially, and then began — 
 
 " Well, Frank ! " Frank started. Mr. 
 Erno noticed the start and smiled. Frank 
 colored. 
 
 " This is Thomas Evans," said Mrs. Bartlett 
 quietly. 
 
 " No, this is Frank Nelson." 
 
 The shoe dropped from Frank's hands, and 
 he sprang to his feet. Mr. Erno noticed his 
 agitation, but only smiled again — that quiet, 
 benevolent smile — and continued : 
 
 " His sister Mary is waiting for him in my 
 office." 
 
 Frank cauprht his hand. The color went 
 
282 THE RUNAWAY BOT. 
 
 and came. The tears started in his searching 
 eyes ; he could only gasp forth, " Let me go 
 back with you ! Let me go ! " 
 
 "Yes indeed, my boy, I have come for 
 you." Frank snatched his cap, and was out- 
 doors in an instant. Mr. Erno only stopped 
 for a few words to Mrs. Bartlett of explanation, 
 and then jumped into his carriage and with 
 Frank at his side, drove rapidly back to Mary, 
 who was waiting anxiously for his return. 
 
 There was no need of introduction or par- 
 leying when the boy leaped from the carriage 
 and rushed into the presence of his sister. 
 He forgot everything else. He cared for 
 nobody else. He threw himself into the out- 
 stretched arms of that precious sister, who, 
 like the Great and Good Shepherd, had come 
 to seek and save that which was lost, and 
 sobbed aloud. There was not a dry eye in the 
 room. Hester thought of her own dear broth- 
 er on the eternal heights, and felt her heart 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 283 
 
 already warmed toward one he had loved and 
 blessed. The lost was found, and like as the 
 angels rejoice over the returning penitent 
 child of God, so did the spectators in that 
 hour rejoice with Frank and his noble sister 
 l^Iary. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 HOME AGAIN. 
 
 T Mr. Erno's suggestion a tel- 
 egram was immediately sent 
 to Washington amiouncing 
 to the waiting, anxious moth- 
 er, the glad and welcome 
 news that the brother and 
 sister were once more togeth- 
 er, and both would soon be in her presence. 
 
 The message was delayed on its way so that 
 the evening of that day had arrived before it 
 reached the house where a fond, anxious 
 mother was sending many a thought after her 
 absent son and daughter. All her boarders 
 
 284 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 285 
 
 had gone out for the evening. Only the ser- 
 vants were in the house with herself. She 
 came with a weary step from the dining room 
 into the parlor. The curtains were down, but 
 the gas being screened to its minimum as no 
 one needed tlie light, was not burning bril- 
 liantly enough to eclipse the moonbeams 
 which shone on the curtains. Mrs. Nelson 
 advanced to the window, drew up one of the 
 curtains and looked out into the glorious 
 Autumn night. The pavements were abso- 
 lutely glorified, and made something better 
 than mere stones by the soft and mellow ray 
 of the harvest moon, and all the sharp angles 
 of the neighboring houses were removed, so 
 that moonlight in the city was really pleasant 
 to the eye of that lover of the beautiful who 
 looked upon it. The street was unusually 
 quiet, but as she lingered there in the peaceful 
 moonlight the sound of a rapid footstep fell 
 upon her ear. It hui-ried along. Nearer and 
 
286 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 more near. She could discern a colored boy 
 with something in his hand. He looked up at 
 her windows. He ascended her steps. Such 
 occurrences happen daily, but there was a new 
 and strange sensation experienced by the lady 
 ^as she went to the door. It seemed as if some 
 crisis m her existence had arrived. 
 
 The servant below had heard the bell, and 
 came to attend to her duty, but finding her 
 mistress had preceded her, stood with her 
 usual curiosity, where she could listen to the 
 colloquy. 
 
 "Here is a telegraphic despatch for Mrs. 
 Nelson." 
 
 " A despatch ? " 
 
 " Yes, it's paid for,'' and the boy turned to 
 
 go- 
 Without pausing to shut the door, Mrs. Nel- 
 son tore open the envelope, and read as 
 follows : 
 
 " Prank is with me. We shall be in Wash- 
 ington soon. M. Nelson." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 287 
 
 It was too much. The thought of evil news 
 came to Mrs. Nelson's mind, as she took the 
 message, and she nerved her soul to bear any 
 shock of that kind, but this good news she was 
 liardly able to hear. Her eyes grew dim, her 
 brain reeled, and she would have fallen but 
 for the servant girl who had been standing 
 near eager to catch a glimpse of intelligence, 
 but, to do her justice, when Mrs. Nelson so far 
 recovered as to tell her the contents of the 
 envelope, she was enthusiastic in her sincere 
 expression of joy and gratitude. 
 
 Meanwhile where were Mary and Frank ? 
 With Hester, of course, for she could not bear 
 to have them leave lier yet. She had prevailed 
 on them to wait till the morrow, and spend the 
 time with her. They did so, Frank leaving 
 his sister only just long enough to pack his 
 things, while Mary talked with Mrs. Bartlett 
 of her dear brother, and thanked her and her 
 husband for all their kindness to the wayward 
 but beloved boy. 
 
288 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 Frank was now eager to get home again. 
 He longed for his mother's smile once more. 
 But he saw that it would be a consolation to 
 True Blue's sister if they tarried longer, and 
 therefore he cheerfully consented to remain 
 till the next morning. 
 
 At Hester's place of abode there was a fine 
 piano in the parlor. From Frank's inquiries 
 of Mary concerning her pupils, Hester found 
 that Mary was a teacher of music. She there- 
 fore solicited her to play and sing. " Come, 
 Miss Nelson," said she, " please oblige me 
 with a little music." 
 
 " Oh yes, with pleasure ; you will direct me 
 what to smg." 
 
 " Can you sing this ? " handing her a paper 
 somewhat new. " There are some lines from 
 the New York Evening Post. Can you not 
 set them to some music, and sing them to me. 
 They are frought with sadness to my bereaved 
 heart, but yet they are very beautiful, and I 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 289 
 
 should like to have them wedded to a fitting 
 melody." 
 
 Mary sat down to the piano, and after a 
 little preliminary playing, she sang the follow- 
 ing lines, with great expression and power, 
 having first asked the authorship, and receiv- 
 ing for answer the intelligence that they came 
 in a New York paper. 
 
 *' Thank God, the sky is clearing ! 
 The clouds are hurrying past I 
 Thank God the day is nearing ! 
 
 The dawn is coming fast. 
 And when glad herald voices 
 
 Shall tell us peace has come, 
 This thought shall most rejoice us ; 
 * Our boys are coming home ! ' 
 
 Soon shall the voice of singing 
 
 Drown war's tremendous din ; 
 Soon shall the joy-bells ringing 
 
 Bring peace and freedom in. 
 The jubilee bon-tires burning, 
 
 Shall soon light up the dome, 
 And soon, to soothe our yearning, 
 
 Our boys are coming home. 
 
 The vacant fire-side places 
 Have waited for them long; 
 
290 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 The love-light lacks then- faces, 
 The chorus waits their song ; 
 
 A shadowy tear has haunted 
 The long-deserted room ; 
 
 But now our prayers are granted. 
 Our boys are coming home ! 
 
 O mother, calmly waiting 
 
 For that beloved son ! 
 sister, proudly dating 
 
 The victories he has won ! 
 O maiden, softly humming 
 
 The love-song while you roam — 
 Joy, joy, the boys are coming — 
 
 Our boys arc coming home ! 
 
 And yet — oh, keenest son-ow! 
 
 They're coming, but not all : 
 Full many a dark to-morrow 
 
 Shall wear its sable pall 
 For thousands who are sleeping 
 
 Beneath the empurpled loam ; 
 Woe ! Avoc ! for those we're weeping. 
 
 Who never will come home ! 
 
 O sad heait, hnsh thy ycaniing ; 
 
 Wait but a little while ! 
 With hoping and believing: 
 
 Thy woe and fear beguile. 
 Wait for the joyous meeting 
 
 Beyond the starry dome. 
 For there our boys are waiting 
 
 To bid us welcome home." 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 291 
 
 Long before Mary finished, every one of her 
 auditors were weeping, and her own eyes 
 were dim with tears. Frank wept at the 
 thought of a wayward boy and forgiving moth- 
 er ; Hester remembered the dear soldier broth- 
 er who was sleeping too soundly ever to hear 
 the bugle blast again, and Mary wept in sym- 
 pathy with both. 
 
 She rose from the piano. Like her mother 
 at that very hour, she walked to the window 
 and lifted the curtam. The same glorious 
 moonlight bathed the landscape with its silvery 
 brightness. 
 
 Hester looked up and caught a glimpse of 
 the beauty beyond the casement, " Let us go 
 forth for a walk!" exclaimed she: "do you 
 not want to show your sister the old fort, 
 Frank ? That is one of the places she has not 
 yet seen." 
 
 They had all been, that afternoon, to visit 
 the grave of one whom each respected and 
 
292 THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 loved, and over the hallowed mound, Frank 
 made a new resolve to live honestly, like his 
 friend, henceforth, seeking to fulfill every duty, 
 and fleeing from no responsibility, or field of 
 labor where God should place him. 
 
 Tiiey were soon on their way to the old fort, 
 climbed its grassy eminences, and looked out 
 upon the broad ocean from that commanding 
 position. 
 
 Mary almost held her breath with delight. 
 At last she broke the silence with the utter- 
 ance, half- whispered, " How beautiful ! how 
 very beautiful ! '' 
 
 And the scene was truly enchanting. The 
 mystic charms of the moonlight hour lent 
 their bewitching influence, and the sparkling, 
 dancing waters spread out beneath the silvery 
 rays of Night's glorious Queen, seemed full of 
 entrancing beauty to the eye of one to whom 
 the sight was new. It was beautiful to Frank, 
 also, for he shared his sister's- love of beauty ; 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 293 
 
 and it was no less lovely to the clear, calm eye 
 of tlie queenly Hester, though she had gazed 
 upon it a thousand times. Mary carried home 
 with her, in memory's gallery, that picture of 
 the rocky headland, the island-dotted ocean, 
 the sparkling waters, the silvery moonbeams, 
 and regarded it as one of the choicest gems 
 ever stored therein. 
 
 Morning dawned, and the cars started for 
 Salem,J)earing tho runaway boy and his sister, 
 after an affectionate farewell to Hester, and 
 kind parting words from the Bartletts, and Mr. 
 Erno. On, on the travellers sped toward the 
 Capital city, and the mother that counted the 
 hours, and longed to clasp her only son once 
 more in her maternal embrace. 
 
 They journeyed rapidly. At last they reach- 
 ed Washington. The very first person whom 
 Frank recognized was Oscar. The latter 
 rushed to the side of the runaway. Frank 
 half shrank from him, but Mary greeted him 
 
t94: THE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 \ritli, " sir, I thank you for that note. It 
 has given me back my brother." 
 
 " Don't hang back from me, Frank," ex- 
 claimed Oscar, seizing Frank's hand. " I did 
 wrong in urging you to go away. I see it all, 
 and learning you were expected soon, I've 
 been here all day watching every train, to ask 
 your forgiveness, and permission to go with 
 you to your mother, and ask hers. Will you 
 forgive me ? " ^ 
 
 " Yes, Frank, forgive and forget. Only 
 never again entice him from us again^" said 
 Mary. 
 
 Oscar bowed, and looked eloquently his 
 thanks ; Frank shook his hand with a cordial 
 pressure, " I am glad to be back and begin an 
 honest life again," said he, " and you may 
 come home with me if you will." 
 
 The rapid wheels bore them to the long 
 darkened home. The runaway first ascended 
 the steps. A waiting hand opened and closed 
 
THE RUNAWAY BOY. 295 
 
 the door. Mary and Oscar purposely lingered 
 outside, and there was no eye save those of 
 God and the angels to witness the meeting of 
 the mother and her penitent boy. 
 
 When Mary and Oscar entered, the mother 
 sat on the parlor sofa with the arm of her 
 returned prodigal s©n around her, and traces 
 of tears were on botli faces. Mary presented 
 Oscar, and he implored forgiveness with an 
 earnestness that betokened sincerity. 
 
 " Yes, mother, forgive him," said Frank, 
 " I shall feel more sure then that you forgive 
 me." 
 
 Mrs. Nelson reached out her hand to Ogcar, 
 laymg the other on the head of her boy ; " I do 
 forgive you for the sake of this my son who 
 ' was dead and is alive again, was lost and is 
 found.' " 
 
 That night was the happiest which had been 
 known under that roof since the night of 
 Frank's departure. A dark cloud was rifted, 
 and the simlight of joy came smiling through. 
 
296 fHJE RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 Thus have we followed tlie footsteps of the 
 runaway and his sister. Possibly in the 
 future, more may be learned of Frank and 
 Oscar, and the reader of Hiis volume see how 
 both were faithful to the call of duty, serving 
 
 •* God, and their native land." 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 526