JNIVERSITYOl *JORTH CAROJNii 1 t«k< ill •< Lijiiilt of l|)e ([Init)er0itg of jQortfi Catolina UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 00022092762 This BOOK may be kept out TWO WEEKS ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIVE CENTS a day thereafter. It was taken out on the day indicated below: Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2011 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill http://www.archive.org/details/oscarorboywhohasOOaimw Jt/Bm^ yrs^~~"'i %\)t JiimtoHl St0ti,e5* OSC AE: OR THE BOY ¥H0 HAD HIS OWN ¥AY. BY WALTER AIMWELL, AUTHOR OF "CLINTON," "bOT'S OWN GUIDE," ETC. eSFftl) KUustratfcns. BOSTON: aOULD AND LINCOLN 59 WASHINGTON STREET. NEW YORK : SHELDON, LAMPORT & BLAKEMAN, 115 NASSAU STREET. 185G. ( Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 185-1, by GOULD AND LINCOLN, In (he Clerk's OflBce of the District Court, of the District of Massachusetts. THOMAS B. SMITH, STEREOTTPER AXD ELECTROTYPRR, 216 William St., N. Y. PREFACE In the story of Oscae is portrayed the career of a bright but soraewhat headstrong boy, who was over-indulged by his parents, and who usually managed to "have his own wa}^," by hook or by crook. The book is de- signed to exhibit some of the bad consequences of acquiring a wayward and lawless spirit, and of falling into indolent, untruthful, and disobe- dient habits. These are its main lessons, in- termingled with Avhich are a variety of others, of scarcely less importance to the young, Winchester, Mass. Y ADVERTISEMENT. "trecepts may lead, but examples draw." " The Aimwell Stoeies " are designed to portray some of the leading phases of juvenile character, and to point out their tendencies to future good and evil. Tliis they undertake to do, by describing the quiet, natural scenes and incidents of every-day life, in city and country, at home and abroad, at school and upon the play-ground, rather than by resorting to romantic adventures and startling effects. While their main object is to persuade the young to lay well the foundations of their characters, to win them to the Avays of virtue, and to incite them to good deeds and noble aims, the attempt is also made to mingle amusing, curious and useful information with the moral lessons conveyed. It is hoped that the volumes will thus be made attractive and agreeable, as well as in- structive, to the youthful reader. Each volume of the "Aimwell Stories "will be com- plete and independent of itself, although a connecting thread will run through the whole series. The order of the volumes, so far as completed, is as follows : I. OSCAE ; OE, THE BoY WHO HAD HIS OwX WaY. II. Clixtox ; OE, Boy-Life in the Couxtey. m. Ella ; or, Turxixg o\ter a New Leaf. {In prep- aration.) CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. A KIT CHEN SCE N E . Pack Bridget and her little realm— A troop of rude intruders— An imperious demand — A flat refusal— Prying investigations — Biddy's displeasure aroused— Why Oscar could not find the pie — Another squabble, and its consequences— Studying under diiTicuUies — Shooting peas — Ralph and George provoked— A piece of Bridget's mind— Mrs. Preston- George's complaint— Oscar rebuked — A tell-tale — Oscar's brothers and sisters— His father and mother 15 CHAPTER II. OSCAR IX SCHOOL. ^ Oscar's school — The divisions and classes — Lively and pleasant sights — Playing schoolmaster — Carrying the joke too far to be agreeable — Oscar's indolence in schocjl- Gazing at the blackboard— A release from study, and an unexpected privilege — Whiling away an hour — Doing nothing harder work than studying — A half-learned lesson — A habit of Oscar's— A ridiculous blunder — Absurd mistakes of the British government about the great lakes — Oscar less pardonable than the\ -^Another blunder — Difference between guessing and knowing — Oscar detained after school— His recitation — Good advice — Remem- bering the blackboard — Willie Davenport — A pounding promised.. VI CONTENTS.. CHAPTER III. PAYING OFF A GRUDGE. PAGE Whistler— Why Rill ph liked him— Why Oscar disliked him— A cau- tion— A sudden attack— An unexpected rescue— The stranger's ad- vice — A brave and manly answer — Whistler refuses to expose Os- car's name — The boys separate — George's report of the scene, and Ral])h's explanation— Oscar's return — His sister's rebuke — His moth- er's inquiries — Misrepresentations — Willie exonerated — Forgiving enemies— An unpleasant promise called to mind — ?ilr. Preston's ac- tion in the matter — Oscar refuses tu punish himself— The chamber — A surprise — Falsehood — Exposure — The account settled— Silence — Late rising and a cold breakfast — What Mrs. Preston said — Its effect upon Oscar — Concealed emotion— Mistaken notions of manliness — Good impressions made— George's narrow escape 37 CHAPTER IV. THE HOTEL. Alfred Walton — His home — Hotel acquaintances — Coar-e stories and jokes — Andy — His peculiarities — Tobacco — A spelling lesson — The disappointment — Anger — Bright and her family — Fun and mischief — Tiie owner of the ptips — A promise — A ride to the depot — A walk about the building — Examining wheels— The tracks— An arrival — A swarm of passengers — Two young travellers taken in tow — Their story — Arrival at the hotel — A walk — Purchase of deadly weapons — A heavy bill — Gifts to Alfred and Oscar — A brave speech for a little fellow — Going home "... 51 CHAPTER V. THE YOUNG TRAVELLERS. The Sabbath — Uneasiness — Monday morning — A pressing invitation to play truant — Hesitation — The decision — Oscar's misgivings — Maiv ners of the two travellers — A small theft— Flight — A narrow escape — <^0 N T E N T S . Vll 4^ PAGE A costly cake of sugar— The bridge to'Chailestown— The monu- ment — The navy yard — Objects of interest — [acidents of Joseph's Yife—^ slight test of his courage — Oscar's plans — Going to dinner— A grand " take in" — Alfred's disclosures — Real character of the young travellers— Their tough stories — A mutual difficult}' — Confess- ing what cannot be concealed — Good advice and mild repi oof — The teacher's leniency explained . 64 OHA.PTEK VI. wo RK. A command — Passing it along — Reluctant" obedience — A poor excu*e — A bad habit — Employment for vacation — Oscar's opposition to tlie plan— Frank the errand-boy— Thanksgiving week—A busy time- Oscar's experience as store-boy — Learning to sweep — Doing work w^ — A tempting invitation — Its acceptance — A ride — Driving horses — The errand — The return — Oscar at the store — Sent off '' with a flea in his ear" — The matter brought up again — Oscar's excuse unsatisfac- torj' — Ralph's services rewarded — Difference between the two boys . . CHAPTER VII. T H A»N"K SGIYING-DAT. Grandmother's ari-ival-Surprisos— Presents— Oscar at a shooting- match— Bad company— Cruel sport— Home again— Prevarication— A remonstrance — Impudence, and a silent rebuke — The dinner — A stormy afternoon — A disappointment — Evening in the parlor — A call for stor.es — How the Indians punished bad boys — What Oscar thought of it— An Indian story— The hostile party— The alarm— The stratagem — The onset — The retreat — The victory — Laplot River — Widow Storey's retreat — Misfortunes of her husband — Her enter- prise and industry — Fleeisig from the British — The subterranean abode — Precautions to prevent discovery— Uncle James — The fellow who was caught in his own trap — Old Zigzag — His oddities — His tragic end— How the town of Barre, Vt., got its name— A well-spent evening Viii ) CONTENT*. 0«APTER VIIL r G-RANDMOTHER LEE, TA.^4 One of her4idl)it3— Ella's complaint — Alice's reproof— Ella's rude re- ply to iier graudmother — A mild rqbuke — A sterner reproof— Shame and repgnlance— Popping corn — Ger'*i-ge?s' selfishness— A fruitless / search for the corn-bag — Bad Temper — An ineffectual reproof- 's George's obstinacy — How he becam»; Elfish — Difficulty of breaking up a bad habit — What, h? lust by his selfishness — Oscars dug — He Is named "Tiger" — His po^lrait- His roguishness — Oscar's trickli^m his grandmother — Unfortunate endiag— Tiger's destructiveness^iV mystery, ^id its probable sonuiuu — Oscar's falsehood— Tiger's ban- ishment decreed, but not carried out — Grandmother Lee's remon- strance. with Oscar— Bridget's onfi»t^Osear's excuse— Moral princi- ple wanting— Mrs. Lee's departure 105y i CHAPTER IX. ^' N^%»^ Coasting— Oscar's sled — Borrowing and lendiu|— A merry scene on the Common — Various sleds and characters^A collision— Damage to Ralph and the " Clipper" — Not accideiftal — The guilty parties call- ed to account— No satisfaction obtained— Ralph's trouble — Oscar's anger — His revenge — A fight — Its termination — Skating — Tiger on the ice — His plunge into an air-hole — His alarm and escape — Going home — Unfounded fears awakened — Tiger's shame — A talk about air-holes — What they are for, and how they are made — Skaters should be cautious— A change in Tiger's habits — A great snow-8t*jrra — Appear- ance of the streets — Fun for the boys — A job for Oscar — He is wiser than his father — Nullification of a command — The command repeat- ed — Icy sidewalks — Laziness and its excuses — A wise suggestion — Duty neglected — Oscar called to account — His excuses— Unpleasant consequences of his negligence — The command repeated, with a ^ snapper" at the end— The dreaded task completed 122 -r C N T EN T S . ix Chapter x. ' APPEARAXCES. PAGE A compulsorj ride— Merited retribution— A sad plight for a proud boy —Laughter and ridicule — Oscar's neatness and love of dress — The patched jacket— Oscar's objections to it — Benny Wri^t, the boy of many patches — His character — The jacket question peremptorily set- tled — A significant shake of the head — A watch wanted — Why boys carry watches — Punctuality — Oscar's tardiness at school — The real cause of it — Thinking too mucli of outside appearances — Character of more consequence than cloth — An offer— The conditions— A hard question — How to accomplish an object-rOscar's waywardness — Boarding-school discipline — The High School — A^ anticipated nov- elty .'!'. '. ■. . . 140 (K' \r^ CHAPTER XL THE MORAL LESSON. Obcar's shrewdness— His reputalion for integrity — A new want— Per- plexity — A chance fur speculation — A dishonest device — Its success\ — Secrecy — The fraud discovered — Oscar's defence— Restitution re- fused — Indignation— The Monday morning lesson in morals — Dis- honesty—Rectifying mistakes — The. principle unfolded— Restoring lost articles — A case for Oscar to decide — His reluctant decision — Taking advantage of another's ignorance— Duty of restitutioji-^Other forms of dishonesty — Better to be cheated than to chejirf— Effect of the lesson upon Oscar .A. 153 CHAPTER XII. SICKNESS. Wet feet— A command disobeyed— Dabbling in the water— Playing on the ice— An unexpected ad<^'enture— Afloat on an ice-cake— xi consultation— Danger and alarm— Spectators — A call fur help — A critical situation — The rescue— Effects of the adventure — Feverish Z CONTENTS. PAGB dreams— Sirange feelings— The dDCtor's visit— Lung fever- The Lat- in prescription — Oscar's removal — He grows worse — Peevishness — Passing the crisis— Improved behavior — Getting better— General re- joicings—Further improvement— Return of a bad habit— Fretfnlness and impatience — A dispute — First attempt to sit up— lis failure — First day in an easy chair — The sweets of convalescence— Danger of a relapse 164 CHAPTER XIII. GETTIJTG WELL. Hunger— An evil suggestion— First visit down stairs— Midnight supper — Weakness and exhaustion — An ill turn— The doctors visit — The mysteiy explained— Contents oT a sick boy's stomach — The doctor's abrupt farewell— His recall — Promise of obedience— Punishment for imprudence — Directions — Effects of the relapse— Slow recovery — The menagerie procession — A wet morning — Disobedience— Exposure, and its consequences — Reading — The borrowed book — The curious letter — Puzzles, with illustrations- Guessing riddles — Oscar's treat- ment of Benjamin— His present feelings towards him— Ella's copy of the letter— Oscar's growing impatience— An arrival — Uncle John — The losgess — Cousins never seen — A journey decided upon — Solution of riddles, conundrums, &c 179 CHAPTER XIV. THE JOURNEY. Setting out — A long and wearisome ride — Portland— The hotel — Going to bed — The queer little lamp — Lonesomeness— The evening prayer —Morning— Breakfast— The railroad depot— Oscar's partialily for stage-coaches and good horses— Eighty miles by steam— Dinner — The stage-coach — An outside seat — The team and the roads — Vil- lages— Mail bags— Forests and rivers— End of the stage ride— Jerry— An introduciiun — A ride in a wagon — Bashfulness — An invisible village- The journey's end— Mrs. Preston— More shy cousins— Sup- per — Evening employments — Attempting to " scrape acquaintance" —Mary tells Oscar his name— More questions— The tables turned — Getting acquainted in bed • 193 CONTENTS. XI CHAPTER XV. BROOKDAiLE. PAQE A dull morning— New acquaintances— Inquiries about Jeny's school- time — A long vacation -Work — Playmates— Rain — A fine sunrise — The disiiuit pond— A call to breakfast — Preliminary operations— Jer- ry's uncombed head — Oicar's neatne&s — Jerry sent from the table — Bad manners— Bathing in ihe pond— An anticipated pleasure inter- dicted—The river — A walk — The pond — Map of Biookdale — Going to ride— The Cross-Roads — Billy's spetd discussed — The variety store — All sorts of things — Oscar's purchase— Returning home — Short evenings — A nap — A queer dream — Oscar's smartness at dreaming — Making fun of a country store— Jlary's question — Crying babies — Teasing— Walking backwards— A trip and a fall — A real crying 'laby — Mary comforted — Jerry cufled — Mortitication 204 CHAPTER XYI. IN THE \srOODS. Forgotten medicine and renewed health— An excursion planned — A gun wanted, but denied — Setting out on a long tramp — Swamps — Upland — Brooks— How Brookdale got its name — Cutting canes — Birch and beech— How to crook the handle of a cane— The philoso- phy of it explained— The cigars— Fine groves — Stopping to rest — The forest described- Birds and guns— Other game — Jim Oakley's strange animal— Moose — The man who met a bear — A race — Mysterious dis- appearance of tlie bear — The probable cause of his visit — The boy who killed two bears — Oscar's courage— Prospect Rock — A fine view — The rabbit — The woodchuck's hole — Crossing a swamj) — Mos- quitos— The pond — The hermit's hut — Some account of "Old Staples'" — Buried treasures — Making a fire — Baking potatoes and toasting cheese — Drinking pond water — Dinner — Hunting for the hermit's money — What they meant to do with it — A bath proposed — Smoothing over the matter — Going into water — Drying their hair — Going home — Lost in the woods — Arrival home — One kind of pun- ishment for wrong-doing XU CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVir. CLINTON. PAGE The missing cap — Splitting wood — Jeiry and Emily — A quarrel begun — Tlie eip found — A drinlc of butlemiilk — Oscar's opinion of it — Jerry's love for it — Another delay — Feeding the fowls — A mysterious letier— Tlie Shanghae rooster's cumplaiiit— Curiosity excited — The sus- pected author — Clinton's education — Keeping dark about the letter — Who Cliiitun was— Where he lived — Killing caterpillars — How cater- pillars breed— The young turkeys — The brood of chickens — The hen- coop — Clinton's management of the poultry — His profits — Success the result of efifort, not of luck — The " rooster's letter" not alluded to — The piggery — The barn— "The horse's prayer" — A new-comer — Her name — A discovery — Relationship of Clinton to Whistler- Mrs. Davenport— Oscar conceals his dislike of Whistler— The shop — Specimens of Clinton's work — Going home 238 CHAPTER XVHI. THE LETTER. A. forgotten duty called to mind — Letter writing — A mysterious allu- sion — The private room — No backing out — Making a beginning — Get- ting stuck — Idling away time — Prying into letters — A commotion among the swallows — Teaching the young ones how to fly — A good lesson lost — iMary and her book — Her talk about the pictures — A pretty picture^A wasted hour — Making another attempt — His suc- cess — Effecls of being in earnest — A copy of Oscar's letter — Emily's inquisiliveness^A rebuke- The message she wanted to send — The meadow lot — Mtik-hingfor trees — Going to the old wood lot — Cutting birch twigs — Forgetting to be lazy — The load — A ride to the Cross- Roads — Mailing tlie letter — Paying the postage in advance 254 CHAPTER XIX. THE RECALL. Hankerings after a gun — A plan— Jim Oakley's gun — A dispute — An open rupture — The broken gun— Going home mad— A call from Clinton — The letter — Summons home — Disappointment — Bad feeling between Oscar and Jerry — How they slept — Remarks about their ap- CONTENTS. XUl PAGB pearance at the breakfast table— Borrowing trouble — Another visit proposed— Jerry's explosion of anger — His imprudence— Confinement down cellar — An unhappy day — " Making up" at night — A duty neg- lected — Inquiries about the gun — Starting for home — A pleasant drive — The stage-coach — The cars — Luncheon — Half an hour in Port- land — The Boston train — A spark in the eye — Pain and inflammation — Boston — Ralph's surprise — Welcome home — The eye-stone — The intruder removed 270 CHAPTER XX. DOWNWARD PROGRESS. Oscar's dread of going to school— Unsuccessful pleas— Oscar at school — His indiflFerence to his studies — A "talent for missing" — A reproof — Kicking a cap — Whistler's generosity — Benny Wright — Oscar's bad conduct — Regarded as incorrigible— The tobacco spittle — Os- car's denial— Betrayed by his breath — A successful search— The teacher's rebuke— The new copy — Its effect — A note for Oscar's futher ■ — What it led to — Concealment of real feelings — Bridget's complaint — The puddle on the kitchen floor — Oscar's story— Conflicting reports — A new flare-up— The truth of the matter — Bridget's departure — Examination day — The medals— The certificate for the High School —A refusal— Bitter fruits of misconduct 2S4 ■ CHAPTER XXI. NEDMIXER. Vacation — Associates — Edward Mixer — His character — Loitering around railroad depots — An excursion into the country — The railroad bridge — Fruit — A fine garden— Getting over the fence — Looking for birds' nests— Disappearance of Edward and Alfred — A chase — Es- cape of the boys — Hailing each other — Edward's account of the ad- venture — A grand speculation — Pluck — Secrecy— Curiosity not grati- fied — Arrival of Oscar's uncle — The ofllcer's interview with Mr, Pres- ton — The real character and history of Ned — Timely warning — Os- car's astonishment — What he knew concerning Ned— A hint about forming new acquaintances — Oscar's removal from city temptations decided on — A caution and precaution — Departure— Ned's arrest and sentence— The " grand speculation" never divulged 300 lUustratiun^. Page Winter Scene on Boston Common frontispiece Vignette Title-page Playing Schoolmaster 27 The Assault 39 Bright and HER Family ■ 56 Thanksgiving Market Scene 89 Tiger's Countenance ^ 114 The Overturn 141 Afloat on the Ice 1C3 A Q.UEER Name 187 The Double Face 137 The Cat-erect 183 Map of Brookdale 211 The Dinner in the "Woods 233 Mary and the Picture-Book 261 The Stage-Coach 280 Hunting for Birds' Nests 304 OSCAR. CHAPTER 1. A KITCHEN SCENE "pRIDGET, the Irish servant girl, had finished the house-work for the day, and sat down to do a little mending with her needle. The fire in the range, which for houi-s had sent forth such scorching blasts, was now burning dim ; for- it was early in October, and the weather was mild and pleasant. The floor was swept, and the various articles belonging in the room were ar- ranged in their proper places, for the night. The mis- tress of the kitchen, — for Bridget claimed this as her rank, if not her title, — was humming a queer medley 16 NOISYBOYS. of tunes known only to herself, as lier clumsy fingers were trying to coax tlie needle to perform some dex- trous feat that it did not seem inclined to do in her hands. What she was thinking about, is none of our business ; but whatever it was, her revery was suddenly disturbed, and the good nature that beamed from her face dispelled, by the noisy clattering of more than one pair of little boots on the stairs. In a moment, the door opened with a jerk and a push, and in bounded three boys, with as little d^play of manners or proprie- ty as so many savages might exhibit. The oldest di- rected his steps to the closet, singing, as he peered round among the eatables : "Eggs, cheese, butter, bread, — Stick, stock, stone-dead." " Biddy," he continued, " I 'm hungry — give me something to eat, quick." Bridget paid no attention to this demand, but only twitched her needle with a httle more energy. " I say, Biddy," continued the boy, " what did you have for supper ? Come, give me some, I 'm half starved." AN ATTRACTION. 17 "And why did n't ye come when tlie supper was ready, if ye wanted any ?" said Bridget. " If ye won't ate with the rest, it 's not me that will wait upon ye, Master Oscar." " Well," continued Oscar, " if you won't help me, I guess I can help myself. Ralph, what did you have for supper ?" The boy addressed named over several articles, among which were cake and mince-pie, neither of which could Oscar find in the closet. " Where did you put the pie, Biddy ?" he inquired. "It 's where ye won't find it," replied Bridget, " that 's jist where it is." " I bet I v)ill find it, come now," said Oscar, with a determined air ; and he commenced the search in ear- nest, prying into every covered dish, opening every drawer and bucket, and overhauling and disarranging every part of the closet. Bridget was just then in too irritable a mood to bear this provoking invasion of her realm with patience. In an angry tone, she ordered the intruder to leave the closet, but he took no notice of the command. She repeated the order, making it more emphatic by calling him a " plague" and a " tor- 2* 18 IRREGULAR HABITS. ment," but he did not heed it. Then she threatened to tell his parents of his misconduct, but this had no ef- fect. Oscar continued his search for some minutes, but without success ; and he finally concluded to make his supper of bread and butter, since he could find nothing- more tempting to his appetite. The fact was, Oscar was getting* in the habit of being absent from his meals, and calling for food at unseason- able hours, much to the annoyance of Bridget. She had complained of this to his mother several times, without effect ; and now she thought she would try a little expedient of her own. So, when she cleared away the supper-table that evening, before Oscar came home, she hid away the cake and pies with wh'ch the others had been served, and left only bread and butter in the closet. She gained her end, but the boy, in rummag- ing for the hidden articles, had made her half an hour's extra work, in putting things to rights again. As Oscar stepped out of the closet, after his solitary supper, he moved towards the youngest of the other boys, saying : " Here, George, open your mouth and shut your eyes, and I '11 give you something to make you wise." HECTORING. 19 George declined the gift, but Oscar insisted, and tried to force it upon him. A struggle ensued, and both rolled upon the floor, the one crying and screaming with anger, and the other laughing as though he consid- ered it good fun. George shut his teeth firmly togeth er, but Oscar succeeded in rubbing enough of the mys- terious article upon his lips to enable him to tell what it was. It proved to be a ^^iece of pepper, a plate of which Oscar had found in the closet. This little experiment, however, did not leave George in a very pleasant frame of mind. It was some time before he got over his blubbering and pouting. Oscar called him a "cry-baby," for making such a fuss about a little bit of pepper, which epithet did not aid him j much in forgetting the injury he had received. After awhile, quiet and harmony were in a measu/e restored. Ralph and George got their school-books, and began to look over the lessons they were to recite in the morning ; but Oscar not only remained idle, himself, but seemed to try to interrupt them as much as possible, by his remarks. By-and-bye, finding they did not take much notice of his observations, he took from his jacket pocket a small tin tube, and commenced 20 SHOOTING PEAS. blowing peas throngli it, aiming them at his brothers, at Bridget, and at the lamp. Ralph, after two or three had taken effect on his face, got up in a pet, and took his book up stairs to the sitting-room. George scowled and scolded, as the annoying pellets flew around his head, but he did not mean to be driven away by such small shot. Bridget, too, soon lost her patience, as the peas i-attled upon the newlj^-swept floor. " Git away with yer pays, Oscar," said she ; " don't ye be cluttei-in' up the clane floor with 'em, that 's a good b'y.'' " They aint ' pays,' they are peas,''^ replied Oscar ; " can't you say peas, Biddy ?" " I don't care what ye call 'em," said Bridget ; " only kape the things in yer pocket, and don't bother me , with 'em." "Who's bothering you?" said Oscar; "the 'pays' don't make any dii't — they 're just as clean as your floor." " Ye 're a sassy b'y, that 's jist what ye are." " Well, what are you going to do about it ?" " Faith, if it was me that had the doin' of it, I "bet 1 'd lam ye better manners, ye great, impudent g*ood- for-not!iin', if J had to bate yer tin times a day." COMPLAINTS. 21 " You would n't, though, would you ?" said Oscar ; and he continued the shower of peas until he had ex- hausted his stock, and then picked most of them up again, to serve for some future occasion. He had hard- ly finished this last operation, when his mother, who had been out, returned home. As soon as she entered the kitchen, George began to pour out his complaints to her. " Mother," he said, " Oscar 's been plaguing us like everything, all the evening. He got me down on the floor, and rubbed a hot pepper on my mouth, and tried to make me eat it. And he 's been rummaging all round the kitchen, trying tO find some pie. And then he went to shooting peas at us, and he got Bridget real mad, and Ralph had to clear out, to study his lesson. I told him—" " There, there, George, that wijl do," replied his mother ; "I am sick -of hearing these complaints. Os- car, why is it that I can't stir out of the house, when you are at home, without your making trouble with Bridge or tjie children ? I do wish you would try to behave yoursetf properly. You ai-e getting the ill-will of every- body in the house, by your bad conduct. "I really be- 22 TALE-TELLING. lieve your brothers and sisters will begin to hate you, before long, if you keep on in this way. For your own sake, if for nothing more, I should think you would try to do better. If I were in your place, I would try to keep on good terms with my brothers and sisters, if I quarrelled with everybody else." Oscar made no reply to this, and the subject was soon dropped. His mother was too much accustomed to such complaints of his misconduct, to think very seriously of them ; and he was himself so used to such mild rebukes as the foregoing, that they made little im- pression upon his mind. The boys, who all slept in one chamber, soon retired for the night ; but Oscar took no further notice of the occurrences of the evening, ex- cept to apply the nickname of "mammy's little tell- tale " to George — a title of contempt by which he often addressed his little brother. I am afraid that the title of " tell-tale " was not whol-' ly undeserved by George. True, he often had just cause of complaint ; but he was too ready to bring whining accusations against his brothers and sisters, for every t]-iliing thing. He complained so much that his mother could not always tell when censure was de- I THE FAMILY. 23 served. It had become a habit with him, and a dozen times a day he would go to her, with the complaint that Oscar had been plaguing him, or Ella had got something that belonged to him, or Ralph would not do this or that. George, who was the youngest of the children, was at this time seven years old ; Ralph was tvTO years and a half old'er, and Oscar, who was the oldest son, was about half way between thirteen and fourteen. They had two sisters. Alice, the oldest, was fifteen years of age, and Eleanor, or Ella, as she was commonly called, was about eleven. The father of these boys and girls was a shop-keeper in Boston. His business required so much of his at- tention, that he was seldom with his family, except at meal-times and nights. Even in the evening he was usually at the shop ; but when it so happened that he could remain at home after tea, it was his delight to settle himself comfortably down in the big rocking chair, in the well-lighted sitting-room, and to muse and doze, while Alice sang, and played upon the piano-forte. He had so raany'other cares, that he did not like to be troubled with bad reports of his children's conduct. 24 DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT. This was so well understood by all the family, that even George seldom ventured to go to bim with a com- plaint. The management of domestic affairs was thus left almost entirely with Mrs. Preston, and she consult- ed her husband in regard to these matters only when grave troubles arose. I have thus briefly introduced to my readers the family, one of whose members is to form the principal subject of the following pages. CHAPTER IT. SCAR IN SCHOOL rpiIE school which Oscar attended was held in a large and lofty brick building, a short distance from the street on which he lived. His brothers attended the same school, but his sisters did not, it being only for boys. The pupils numbered four or jSve hundred — a good many boys to be together in one building. But though belonging to one school, and under the control of one head master, they did not often meet together in one assembly. They were divided into eight or ten branches, of about fifty scholars each, and each branch had its own separate room and teacher. There were, however, only four classes in the whole school ; and a this time Oscar was a member of the first, or highest class. There was a large hall in the upper story of the building, in which the entire school assembled on exhi- 26 A PLEASANT SIGHT. bition daj^s, and when tliey met for tlie practice of sing- ing or declamation. There were hvely and merry times in the vicinity of the school-honse, I can assure you, for half an hour be- fore the opening of school, and for about the same \ength of time after the exercises closed. Four hundred Doys cannot well be brought together, without making some stir. Every morning and afternoon, as the pupils went to and from school, the streets in the neighbor- hood would for a few minutes seem to swarm with boys, of every imaginable size, shape, manners, dress, and appearance. Usually, they went back and forth in little knots; and with their books and slates under their arms, their bright, happy faces, their joyous laugh, and their animated movements, they presented a most pleas- ing sight, — " a sight for sore eyes," as a Scotchman might say. If anybody disputes this, he must be a sour and crabbed fellow. ' Oscar, although not the most prompt and punctual of scholars, used occasionally to go to school in season to have a little fun with his mates, before the exercises commenced. One day, entering the school-room a little -"^ore the time, he put on an old coat which his teacher PLAYING SCHOOL-MASl ER. 27 wore in-doors, stuck a quill behind his ear, and made a pair of spectacles from some pasteboard, which he perched upon his nose. Arranged in this fantastical manner, he seated himself with great dignity in the teacher's chair, and began to " play school-master," to the amusement of sevei-al other boys. It so happen- ed that the teacher arrived earlier than usual that day, and he was not a little amused, as he suddenly entered the room, and witnessed the farce that was going on. 28 INDOLENCE. Oscar jumped from his seat, but the master made him take it again, and remain in it just as be caugbt bim, with bis great-coat, pasteboard spectacles and quill, un- til all tbe scholars bad assembled, and it was time to commence tbe studies of tbe day. Tbis afforded fine sport to tbe otber boys, but Oscar did not mucb relish tbe fun, and be never attempted to amuse himself in that way again. I am sorry that tbis harmless piece of roguery is not the most serious charge that candor obliges me to bring against Oscar. But to tell tbe truth, be was not noted either for bis studious habits or bis correct deportment ; and there was very bttle prospect that be would be considered a candidate for tbe "Franklin medals," which were to be distributed to the most deserving members of bis class, when they graduated, the ensuing July. And yet Oscar was naturally a bright and in- telbgent boy. He was quick to learn, when be applied himself; but be was indolent, and did not like^ to take the trouble of studying bis lessons. Whenever he could be made to take hold of a lesson in earnest, he soon mastered it; but the consciousness of this power often led him to put off his lessons to tbe last minute, THE BLACKBOARD. )iW, and then perhaps something would happen to prevent his preparing himself at all. A day or two after the "kitchen scene" described in the preceding chapter, Oscar was sitting at his desk in the school-room, with an open book before him, but with his eyes idly staring at a blackboard affixed to one of the walls. The teacher watched him a moment, and then spoke to him. " Oscar," he said, " what do you find so very fascinat- ing about that blackboard ? You have been looking at it very intently for several minutes — what do you see that interests you so ?" Oscar hung his head, but made no repl}^ " Are you ready to recite your geography lesson ?" continued the master. " No, sir." " Why do you not study it, then ?" * " I don't feel like studying," replied Oscar. " Very well," said the teacher, quite pleasantly ; " if you don't feel like it, you need n't study. You may come here." Oscar stepped out to the platform on which the teacher's desk was placed. 30 A TEDIOUS AMUSEMENT. "ITiere," continued the master, pointing to a black- board facing the school, "you may stand there and look at that board just as long as you please. But you must not look at anything else, and I would advise you not to let me catch your eyes turning either to the right or the left. Now mind and keep your eyes on the board, and when you feel like studying let me know." Oscar took the position pointed out to him, with his back towards the boys, and with his ftice so near the blackboard, that he could see nothing else without turn- ing his head — an operation that would be sure to at- tract the attention of the master. At first he thought it would be good fun to stand there, and for awhile the novelty of the thing did amuse him a little. When he began to grow weary, he contrived to interest himself by tracing out the faint chalk-marks of long-forgotten problems, that had not been entirely obliterated from the blackboard. This afforded employment for his mind for a time ; but byand-bye he began to grow tired and uneasy. His eyes longed to see something else, and his legs were weary of standing so long in one position. He wondered, too, whether the boys were THE GEOGRAPHY LESSON. 31 'boking at him, and whether they smiled at his strange employment. At last, after doing penance about an hour, his exhaustion got the better of his stubbornness, and on informing the master that he thought he could study now, he was permitted to take his seat. After returning to his desk, Oscar had but little time to finish learning his geography lesson, before the class was called out to recite. As was too often the case, he was but half prepared. The subject of the lesson was New York State. Several of the questions put to Os- car were answered wrong, either wholly or in part. When asked what great lakes bordered on New York, he replied : " Lake Erie and Lake Superior." When the question was given to another, and coi rectly answered, Oscar exclaimed : " That !s what I meant — Erie and Ontario ; but I was n't thinking what I said." This was somewhat of a habit with Oscar. When e "missed" a question, he was very apt to say, after the next boy had answered it, " I knew, only I could n't think ;" or, "I was just going to say so." Another question put to him was, whether the water 82 A SINGULAR MISTAKE. of the great New York lakes was fresh or salt. Oscar replied that it was salt. It is but justice to add, how ever, that nothing was said in the lesson of the da}'", on this point, although the question had occurred in a pre- vious lesson. Noticing that several of the boys laughed at Oscar's blunder, the teacher remarked : " That was a yevj foolish answer, Oscar, but you are not the first nor the wisest person that has made the same mistake. When the British went to war with us, in 1812, it is said that all their war vessels intended to navigate the lakes, were furnished with tanks and casks for carrying a full supply of fresh water; and I have been told that an apparatus is still in existence in one of the Canadian navy. yards, which the English govern- ment sent over, some years ago, for distilling fresh wa- ter from Lake Erie. But an American school-boy of your age ought to know better than this, if an English lord of the admiralty does not. These great lakes are among the remarkable features of our own country, and every American child should know something about them. I should suppose," continued the teacher, " that a boy who could afford to look steadily at nothing for an hour, might take a little pains to inform himself I ANOTHER BLUNDER. 33 about so common a matter as this, so as not to appear so ridiculous, when a simple question is asked him." Before the lesson was concluded, Oscar made still an- other mistake. There was an allusion in the lesson to the great fire of 1835, by which an immense amount of property in New York city was destroyed. "When the teacher asked him how many buildings were said to have been consumed, he rephed : " Three hundred and fifty — five hundred and thirty — no, three hundred and fifty." "Which number do you mean?" inquired the mas- ter. "I aint sure which it is," replied Oscar, after a mo- ment's hesitation ; " it 's one or the other, I don't know which." " You are about as definite," said the teacher, " as the Irish recruit, who said his height was^five feet ten or v.ten feet five, he was n't certain which. But are you sure that the number of buildings burnt was either three hundred and fifty, or five hundred and thirty ?" " Why— yes — I — believe — it was one or the other," replied Oscar, hesitatingly. " You believe it was, do you ? Well, I beheve you 84 DETAINED AFTER SCHOOL. know just notliing about the lesson. You may go to your seat, and study it until you can answer every question ; and after scliool I will liear you recite it ; and remember, you will not go home nntil yon can re- cite it." The class continued their recitation, and Oscar re- turned to his seat, and commenced studying the lesson anew. It was already late in the afternoon, and as he did not like the idea of stopping after school, he gave pretty close attention to his book during the rest of the session. About fifteen minutes after the school was dis- missed, he told the teacher he was prepared to recite, and he succeeded in getting through the lesson with tolerable accuracy. When he had finished, the teacher talked vrith him ver}- plainly about his indolent habits in school, and the consequences that would hereafter result from them. " I would advise you," he said, " to do one of two things, — either commit your lessons perfectly, hereafter, or else give up study entirely, and ask your father to take you from school and put you to some business. You can learn as fast as any boy in school, if you will only give your attention to it ; but I despise this half- ■« GOOD ADVI CE. 35 way system that you have fallen into. It is only wast- ing time to half learn a thing, as you did your geogra- phy lesson this afternoon. You studied it just enough to get a few indistinct impressions, and what little you did learn you were not sure of. It would be better for you to master but one single question a day, and then know that you know it, than to fill your head with a thousand half-learned, indefinite, and uncertain ideas. I have told you all this before, but you do not seem to pay any attention to it. I am sorry that it is so, for you might easily stand at the head of the school, if you would try." Oscar had received such advice before, but, as his teacher intimated, he had not profited much by it. If anything, he had grown more indolent and negligent, within a few months. On going home that night, Ralph accosted him with the inquiry : " What did you think of the blackboard, Oscar ? Do you suppose you should know it again, if you should happen to see it ?" " What do you mean ?" he inquired, feigning igno- rance. " 0, you 've forgotten it a'ready, have you V contin- 36 A T n R E A T . ued Ralph. " You don't remember seeing an^'tliing of a blackboard tliis afternoon, do you?" "But who told you about it?" inquired Oscar; for though both attended the same school, their places were in different rooms. " 0, I know what 's going on," said Ralph ; " you need n't try to be so secret about it." " Well, I know who told you about it — 't was Bill Davenport, was n't it ?" inquired Oscar. Willie and Ralph were such great cronies, that Os- car's supposition was a very natural one. Indeed, Ralph could not deny it without telling a falsehood, and so he made no reply. Oscar, perceiving he had guessed right, added, in a contemptuous tone : " The little, sneaking tell-tale — I '11 give him a good pounding for that, the first time I catch him." " You 're too bad, Oscar," interposed his brother ; "Willie did n't suppose you cared anything about standing before the blackboard — he only spoke of it because he thought it was something queer." Seeing Oscar was in so unamiable a mood, Ralph said nothing more about the subject, at that time. CHAPTER III. PAYING OFF A GRUDGE. rriHE morning after the events just related, as Ralph was on his way to school, he fell in with Willie Davenport, or "Whistler," as he was often sportively called by his playmates, in allusion to his fondness for a species of music to which most boys are more or less addicted. And I may as well say here, that he was a very good whistler, and came honestly by the title by which he was distinguished among his fellows. His quick ear caught all the new and popular melodies of the day, before they -became threadbare, which gave his whistling an air of freshness and novelty that few could rival. It was to this circumstance — the quality of his whistling, rather than the quantity — that he was chiefly indebted for the name of Whistler. Nor was he ashamed of his nickname, as he certainly had no need 4 38 WHISTLER. to be ; for it was not applied to liira in derision, but playfully and good-naturedly. Whistler and Ralph were good friends. There was a difference of between two and three years in their ages, Whistler being about twelve years old ; but their dispositions harmonized together wel^, and quite a strong friendship had grown up between them. A very' different feeling, however, had for some time existed be- tween Oscar and Whistler. They were in the same class at school ; but Whistler studied hard, and thus, though much younger than Oscar, he stood far before him as a scholar. This awakened some feeling of re- sentment in Oscar, and he never let slip any oppoituni- ty for annoying or mortifying his more industrious and successful class-mate. On their way to school, on the morning in question, Ralj^h told Whistler of Oscar's threat, and advised him to avoid his brother as much as possible, for a day or two, until the affair of the blackboard should pass from his mind. Whistler heeded this caution, and was care- ful not to put himself in the way of his enemy. He succeeded in eluding him through the day, and was on his way home from school in the afternoon, when Os- THE ASSAULT. 39 car, who he tlioiight had gone off in another direction, suddenly appeared at his side. ''* You little tell-tale, you," cried Oscar, " what did you tell Kalph about the blackboard for ? I '11 learn you to mind your own business, next time, you mean, sneaking meddler. Take that— and '" that," he contin- § ued, giving Whis- tler several hard blows with his fist. The latter at- tempted to dodge the blows, but did not return them, for this he knew would only increase the anger of Oscar, who was so much his superior in size and strength, as well as in the art of fisticuffs, that he could do just about as he pleased with him. The afi'ray, however, was soon brought 'to an unexpected end, by a gentleman who 40 whistler's bravery. happened to witness it. Seizing Oscar by the collai- of his jacket, he exclaimed : " Here, here, sir ! what are you doing to that little fellow ? Don't you know enough, you great lubber, to take a boy of your own size, if you want to fight ? Now run, my little man, and get out of his way," con- tinued the stranger, turning to Whistler, and still hold- ing Oscar by the collar. Whistler hesitated for a moment between the con- tending impulses of obedience and manliness ; and then, drawing himself up to his full stature, he said, with a respectful but decided air : " No, sir, I have n't injured him, and I won't run away from him." " Well said, well said — you are a brave little fellow," continued the gentleman, somewhat surprised at the turn the affiiir was taking. " AVhat is your name, sir ?" " William Davenport." " And what is this boy's name ?" " Oscar," replied Willie, and there he stopped, as if unwilling to expose further the name of his abuser. " Well, you may go now, Oscar," said the gentle- REPORTS. 41 man, re'linquisliing his bold ; " but if you lay your bands on William again, I shall complain of you/' The two boys walked off in opposite directions, the gentleman keeping an eye upon Oscar until Whistler was out of his reach. A little knot of boys was drawn together by the cir- cumstance just related, among whom was George, Os- car's youngest brother. He witn«essed the attack, but knew nothing of its cause. As he went directly home, while Oscar did not, he had an opportunity to report to his mother and Ralph the scene he had just beheld. Ralph now related to his mother the incident of the preceding day, which led to the assault; for, seeing Os- car's unwillingness to have anything said about it, he had not mentioned the matter to any one at home. Ralph was a generous-hearted boy, and in this case was actuated by a regard for Oscar's feelings, rather than by fear. Oscar did not come home that night until after dark. As he entered the sitting-room, Alice, who was seated at the piano-forte, broke short off the piece she was playing, and said, looking at him as sternly as she could, " You great ugly boy !" 4* 42 AREBUKE. " Why, what 's the matter now ?" inquired Oscar, who hardly knew whether this rougli sakitation was designed to be in fun or in earnest ; " don't I look as well as usual ?" "You looked well beating little Willie Davenport, don't you think you did ?" continued his sister^ with the same stern look. " I 'm perfectly ashamed of you — I declare, I did n't know you could do such a mean thino- as that." o " I don't care," replied Oscar, " I '11 lick him again, if he does n't mind his own business." As Oscar did not know that George witnessed the assault, he was at a loss to know how Alice heard of it. She refused to tell hira, and he finally concluded that Whistler or his mother must have called there, to enter a complaint against him. Pretty soon Mrs. Preston entered the room, and sat down, to await the arrival of Oscar's father to tea. She at once introduced the topic which was uppermost in her mind, by the inquiry : " Oscar, what is the trouble between you and WilKe Davenport ?" " Why," replied Oscar, " he 's been telling stories about me." MISREPRESENTATION. 43 " Do you mean false stories ?" "Yes — no — not exactly false, but it was n't true, neither." " It must have been a singular story, to have been neither false nor true. And as it appears there was but one story, I should like to know what it was." " He told Ralph I had to stand up and look at a blackboard an hour." " Was that false ?" " Yes," said Oscar, for in replying to bis mother, of late, he had usually omitted the "ma'am" (madam) which no well-bred boy will fail to place after the yes or no addressed to a mother ; "yes, it was a lie, for I need n't have stood there five minutes, if I had n't wanted to." " Did you stand before the blackboard because you wanted to, or was it intended as a punishment for not attending to your lesson?" " Why, I suppose it was meant for a punishment, but the master told me I might go to my seat, Avhen- ever I wanted to study." " Then," said Mrs. Preston, *' after all your quibbling, I don't see that Willie told any falsehood. And, in fact, I don't believe he had any idea of injuring you, 44 FORGIVING ENEMIES. when be told Ralph of the affair. He onl}- spoke of it as a little matter of news. But even if he had told a lie about you, or had related the occurrence out of ill- will towards you, would that be any excuse for your conduct, in beating him as jo\i did this afternoon ? Do you remember the subject of your last Sabbath-school lesson ?" Oscar could not recall it, and shook his head in the negative. "I have not forgotten it," continued his mother; "it was on forgiving our enemies, and it is a lesson that }'0U very much need to learn. 'If ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses,' — that was one of the verses of the lesson. It is noble to forgive, but it is mean to retaliate. You must learn to conquer your resentful spirit, or you will be in trouble all the time. I shall report this matter to your father when he comes. I suppose you remember what he promised you, when you had your fight with Sam Oliver ?" Oscar remembered it very distinctly. On that occa- sion, his father reprimanded him with much seventy, THECH AMBER. 45 and assured him that any repetition of the fault would not go unpunished. Mr. Preston soon came in, and as the family sat at the tea-table, he was informed of Oscar's misconduct. After scolding the culprit with much sharpness, for his attack upon Willie, he concluded by ordering him imme- diately to bed. Although it yet lacked two hours of his usual bed-time, Oscar did not consider his punishment very severe, but retired to his chamber, feeling delight- ed that he had got off so much easier than he antici- pated. Indeed, so little did he think of his father's command, that he felt in no hurry to obey it. Instead of going to bed, he sat awhile at the window, listening to the music of a flute which some one in the neighbor- hood was playing upon. Presently Ralph and George, who slept in *the same chamber with him, came up to keep him company. They amused themselves together for some time, and Oscar quite forgot that he had been sent to bed, until the door suddenly opened, and his father, whose attention had been attracted by the noise, stood before him. " Did n't I tell you to go to bed an hour ago, Os- car ?" he inquired. 46 ABADSCRAPE. "Yes, sir." " Why Lave n't you obeyed me, then ?" " Because," said Oscar, " I 've got a lesson to get to- night, and I have n't studied it yet." " If you 've got a lesson to leain, where is your book ?" inquired his father. " It 's down stairs ; I was afraid to go after it, and so I was trying to coax Ralph to get it for me." "0, what a story!" cried George; "why, father, ho has n't said one v/ord about his book." This was true. Oscar, in his extremity, had hastily framed a falsehood, trusting that his assurance would enable him to carry it through. And he would proba- bly have succeeded but for George ; as Ralph, in his well-meant but very mistaken kindness for Oscar, would not have been veiy likely to expose him. But the lie was nailed, and Oscar's bold and wicked push had only placed him in a far worse position than he occupied be- fore. His father, for a moment, could scarcely believe his ears ; but this feeling of astonishment soon gave way to a frown, before which Oscar cowered like a sheep before a lion. Mr. Preston was a man of sti'ong passions, but of few words. Having set forth briefly THEPENALTY. 4/ but in vivid colors the aggravated nature of Oscar's three-fold offence, — his attack upon Willie, his disobe- dience when ordered to bed, and the falsehood with which he attempted to cover up his disobedience, — he proceeded to inflict summary and severe chastisement upon the offender. It was very rarely that he resorted to this means of discipline, but this he deemed a case where it was imperatively demanded. Silence reigned in the boys' chamber the rest of the night. Oscar was too sullen to speak ; Ralph silently pitied his brother, not less for the sins into which he had fallen than for the pain he had suilered ; and George was too much taken up with thinking about the probable after-clap of this storm, to notice anything else. Oscar was fond of his bed, and was usually the last one of the family to rise, especially in cool weather. On the morning after the occurrences above related, he laid abed later than usual even with him. His father had gone to the store, and the children were out-doors at play, before he made his appeai-ance at the breakfast- table. He sat down to the deserted table, and was helping himself to 'the cold remnants of the meal, when 48 his mother enteied the room. Oscar noticed that she looked unusually sad and dejected. After sitting in silence a few moments, she i-emaiked : "You see how I look, this morning, Oscar. I did not sleep half an hour last night, and now I am not fit to be up from my bed — and all on your account. I am afraid your misconduct will be the death of me, yet. T used to love to think how much comfort I should take in you, when you should grow up into a tall, manly youth ; but I have been sadly disappointed, so far. The older you grow, the worse you behave, and the more trouble you make me. Do you intend always to go on in this way ?" Oscar nervously spread the slice of bread before him, but made no reply. His mother continued her re- proofs, in the same sad but affectionate tone. She ap- pealed to his sense of right, to his gratitude, and to his hopes of future success and respectability in life. She described the sad end to which these beginnings of wrong-doing would inevitably lead him, and earnestly besought him to tiy to do better, before his bad habits should become confirmed. Her earnest manner, and her pale, haggard cheeks, down which tears were slow- # STIFLED EMOTIONS. 49 ly stealing, touched the feelings of Oscar. Moisture be- gan to gather in his eyes, in spite of himself. He tried to appear very much interested in the food he was eat-^ ing, and to look as though he was indifferent to what his mother was saying. And, in a measure, he did suc- ceed in choking down those good feehngs which were beginning to stir in his heart, and which, mistaken boy ! he thought it would be unmanly to betray. Yes, he was mistaken — sadly mistaken. Unmanly to be touched by a mothei's grief, and to be moved by a mother's tender entreaties! Unmanly to acknowl- edge that we have done wrong, or to express sorrow for the wrong act ! Unmanly to resolve to resist tempta-^ tion in the future ! Where is this monstrous law of manliness to be found ? If anywhere, it must be only in the code of pirates and desperadoes, who have re- nounced all human laws and ties. The school hour was at hand, and Oscar was obliged to start as soon as he had finished his breakfast. Had he not stifled the better promptings of his heart, and thus done violence to his nature, he would not have left his mother without assuring her that he felt sorry for his misconduct ; for he did feel some degree of regret, 50 GOODEFFECTS. . althougl he was too proud to acknowledge it. His mother, however, saw some tokens of feeling which he could not wholly conceal, and she left him with a sad heart, but with the hope that at least some faint im- pression had been made upon him. And, indeed, some impression was made upon Os- car's heart. The feeling of sullenness with which he awoke, had subsided into something resembling " low spii'its." Nor was this all the eiFect his mother's con- versation had upon him. As he lay awake in the morning, he had planned the secret destruction of a beautiful sled which had been given to Geoi-ge, the win- ter previous, and which was very precious in the eyes of the owner; but now he relinquished this mean and revengeful design. Little George thus escaped the dreaded " after-clap," but he never knew what a blow it would have been, nor how near he came to feeling its full force. CHAPTER IV. THE HOTEL. /^NE of Oscar's most intimate companions was a boy of about his own age, named Alfred Walton, who attended the same school with him. Alfred's father was dead ; but be had a step-father, whom he called father, and with whom he lived. His home was to Os- car a very attractive one ; for it was a public house, and had large stables and a stage-office attached, and was usually full of company. Alfred's step-father was the landlord of the hotel, and of course he and his young friends were privileged characters about the premises. Oscar and Alfred were together a great deal •of the time, when out of school, and quite a warm friendship existed between them. On Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, and during the other play hours of the week, Oscar might generally be found about the 52 HOTEL ACQUAINTANCES. hotel premises, or riding on the coaches with Alfred. He only regretted that he could not stay there alto- gether; for he thought it must be a fine thing to live in such a place, where he could do pretty much as he pleased, without anybody's interference. Such, at least, seemed to be the privilege of Alfred; for everybody, from his step-father down to the humblest servants, ap- peared to have too much other business on their hands to give much attention to his boyish movements. • Oscar made many acquaintances at the hotel, not a few of which were anything but desirable for a boy of his age and character. He was on chattj'- terms with all the stage-drivers, hostlers, and servants about the premises, and also got acquainted with many strangers who stopped there for a season. He was very fond of listening to the stories of the drivers and other frequent- ers of the stage-office, and he would sit by the hour, in- haling the smoke of theiv cigars, admiring their long yarns, and laughing at the jokes they cracked. Much of this conversation was coarse and even vulgar, such as a pure mind could not listen to without suffering contamination, or at least a blunting of its delicate sen- sibilities. It is a serious misfortune for a youth to be A QUEER CHARACTER. 53 exposed to such influences, but Oscar did not kuow it, or did not believe it. Among the hangers about the stable, was a queer fellow who went by the name of Andy. His real name was Anderson. He was weak-minded and childish, his lack of intellect taking the form of silliness rather than of stupidity. Indeed, he was bright and quick in his way, but it was a very foolish and nonsensical way. He was famous among all the boys of the neighbor- hood, for using strange and amusing words, and espec- ially for a system of spelling on which he prided him- self, and which is not laid down in any of the dictiona- ries. He afforded much sport to the boys, who would gather around him, and give him words by the dozen to spell. The readiness and ingenuity with which he would mis-spell the most simple words, was quite amusing to them. He never hesitated, nor stopped to think, but always spelt the given word in his peculiar way, just as promptly as though he did it according to a rule which he perfectly understood. One Saturday afternoon, as Oscar and Alfred were looking about the stable, Andy suddenly made his ap- pearance, and asked them for a bit of tobacco. Both 5* 54 SPELLING. of the boys, by tbe way, wished to be considered tobac- co-chewers, and usually carried a good-sized piece of the vile weed in their pockets, though it must be con- fessed that the little they consumed was rather for ap- pearance sake, than because they liked it. They also smoked occasionally, for the same reason. " You must spell us a word or two, first," said Al- fred, in reply to Andy's request. *' No, I can't stop — got important business to nego- tiate," replied Andy. " Yes, you must," continued Alfred ; " spell fun." " P-h-u-g-n," said Andy. " Spell hotel," continued Alfred. . "H-o-e-t-e-l-l-e." . " Spell calculate," said Oscar. " K-a-1-k-e-w-l-a-i-g-h-t — there, that '11 do," continued Andy. " No, spell one more word — spell tobacco, and you shall have it," added Alfred. " T-o-e-b-a-c-k-k-o-u-g-h — now hand over the 'baccy.' " I have n't got any — have you, Oscar ?" said Alfred Oscar fumbled in his pockets, but there was none to be found. THE PUPS. 55 "You mean, contemptible scalliwags !" exclaimed Andy, " why did n't you tell me that before ? You catch me in that trap again, if you can !" and he walked off in a passion, amid the laughter of Oscar and Alfred. " Let 's go and see the pups, AU,'^ said Oscar, after they had got done laughing over the joke they had played upon Andy. Alfred's step-father had a fine dog of the hound species, with a htter of cunning little pups. A bed had been made for her and the little ones in a corner of the yard, adjoining the stable, with a rough covering to shelter them from wind and storms. The pups were now several weeks old. There were five of them, and a ^at and frolicksome set they were too. As the boys ap- proached them, they were frisking and capering as usual ; tumbling and rolling over one another, climbing upon^the back of their ^mother, and pulhng and bark- ing at the straw. Their mother, whose name was Blight, sat watching their gambols with a very affec- tionate but sedate look. Perhaps she was wondering whether she was ever so mischievous and frisky as these little fellows were. When the pups looked up and saw 56 BRIGHT AND FAMILY. the boys, they stopped their fun for a time, for they were not yet much accustomed to company. Bright, however, knew both Alfred and Oscar ; and as she was a dog of good education and accomplished manners, APROMISE. 57 she did not allow herself to be disconcerted in the least by their presence. " You did n't know father had given all the pups but one to 1113, did you, Oscar?" inquired Alfred. "N"o, — has he, though ?" asked Oscar. " Yes, he has. I knew I could make him say yes, and so I teased him till he did. He 's going to pick out one, to keep, and I 'm to have all the rest." "That 's first-rate," said Oscar; "and you '11 give me one, won't you ?" "Yes, you may have one," replied Alfred; "but don't tell the boys I gave it to you, for I mean to sell the others." " Then I '11 pay you for mine," continued Oscar ; " I can get the money out of ftither, I guess." "No, you shan't pay for it, for I meant you should have one of them, if you wanted it," replied Alfred. "Thank you," said Oscar, "I should like one very much." After looking at the dogs awhile, and canvassing their respective merits, they haj^pened to notice that one of the drivers was about starting ojS" with his coach. 58 THE DEPOT. " Halloo, Mack !" cried Alfred, " where are you go- ing?" " To the depot," replied the driver. " Let 's go, Oscar," said Alfred ; and both boys ran for the coach, the driver stopping until they had climbed up to his seat. A ride of five minutes brought thenii to the depot, where the driver reined up, to await the arrival of a train, which was nearly due. Many other carriages, of various kinds, were standing around the depot, for the same purpose. Oscar and Alfred rambled about the building and adjoining grounds, watching the opera- tions that were going on ; for though they had witness- ed the same operations many times before, there is something quite attractive about such scenes, even to older heads than theirs. On one track, within the de- pot, were six or eight cars, beneath which a man was crawling along, carefully examining the running gear, and giving each wheel tw^o or three smart raps with a hammer, to see if it had a clear and natural rinof. These cars had lately arrived from a distant city, and must undergo a careful scrutiny before they are again used. If any break or flaw is discovered, the car is AN ARRIVAL. 59 sent out to the repair-shop. On another track, the men were making up the next outwaid train. The par- ticular baggage and passenger cars that were to be used, bad to be separated from the others, and arranged in their proper order. Another track was kept clear, for the train that was soon to arrive. Two or three locomotives, outside of the depot, were fizzing and hiss- ing, occasionally moving back or forward, with a loud coughing noise, or changing from one track to another. The bell of the looked-for train was at length heard. The engine, as it approached, was switched upon a side- track, but the cars, from which it had been detached, kept on their course until the brakes brought them to a stand in the depot. The passengers now swarmed forth by hundreds — a curious and motley crowd of men, women, and children ; good-looking people, and ill-looking ones; the fine lady in silk, and the rough backwoods-man in homespun ; the middle-aged woman in black, with three trunks and four bandboxes, and the smooth-faced dandy, whose sole baggage was a slender cane. The cars were at length emptied of their living freight, and most of the passengers had secured their 60 TWO STRANGERS. baggage. Those who wished to ride, had mostly en- gaged seats in the various hacks and coaches, whose drivers accosted every passenger, as he got out of the cars, with their invitations to " ride up." Alfred and Oscar now started to look after the stage-coach in which they rode to the depot. They found it loaded with passengers and baggage, and the diiver was talking with two small lads, of from twelve to thirteen years of age. "Here, Alf," said the driver, "you are just the fellow I want, but I thought you had gone. These boys want to go to the hotel, but I have n't room to take them. They say they had just as lief walk, and if you '11 let them go with you, I '11 take their trunk along." This was readily agreed to. The driver made room for the trunk on the top of the coach, and the young strangers started for the hotel, in company with Alfred and Oscar. As they walked along, they grew quite sociable. The two new-comers, — who, by the way, were quite respectable in their appearance, — stated that they belonged in one of the cities of Maine, and had never been in Boston before. They were brothers ; and both their parents being dead, they said they were on A W AL K. Gl tlieir way to the west, where they had an uncle, who had sent for them to come and live with him. They had a good many questions to ask about Boston, and said they meant to look around the city some the next day, as they must resume their journey on Monday. Alfred said he would go with them, and show them the principal sights; and Oscar, too, would have gladly volunteered, were it not that his father required him to go to church and the Sabbath-school on that day, and to stay in the house when not thus engaged. The boys had now reached the hotel, where the trunk had already arrived. A room was appropriated to the young guests, and Alfred and Oscar conducted them to it, and remained awhile in conversation with them. By-and-bye, the oldest of the strangers asked Alfred if he would go and show them where they could buy some good pistols. Alfred readily agreed to this, and the four boys started off towards the shops where such articles are sold. On their way through the crowded streets, the new-comers found much to at- ti-act their attention. They seemed inclined to stop" at every shop window, to admire some object, and it was nearly dark when they reached the place where 6 62 PISTOLS AND KNIVES. tliey wei-e to make tb^r purcliase. Here, amid the variety of pistols that were exhibited to them, they were for a time unable to decide which to clioose. At 'length, however, aided by the advice of Alfred and Os- car, they picked out two that they concluded to buy. They also purchased a quantity of powder and balls, and then desired to look at some dirks, two of which they decided to take. Some fine pocket-knives next arrested their attention, which were examined, and greatly admired by all the boys. The oldest of the strangers, who did all the business, concluded to take four of these, and then settled for all the articles pur- chased. The bill was not very small, but his pocket- book was evidently well supplied, and he paid it with out any difficulty. After they had left the store, the oldest boy gave Os car and Alfred, each, one of the pocket-knives, to pay them for their trouble, as he expressed it. They were much pleased with their present, and felt very well satis- fied with their afternoon's adventure. They were a lit- tle surprised, however, that their new friends should think it necessary to invest so largely in weapons of de- fence ; and on their hinting this surprise, the boy who A BRAVE SPEECH. 63 purchased the articles said, witli a careless, business-like air : " 0, we Ve got to travel a good many hundred miles, and tliere 's. no knowing what rougli fellows we may fall in with. But give me a good revolver and dirk, an I bet I will take care of myself, anywhere." The seriousness with which this brave language was uttered by a boy scarcely yet in his teens, would have made even Alfred and Oscar smile, but for the con- sciousness of the new knives in their pockets. It was now quite dark, and on coming to a street ^hich led more directly towards his home, Oscar left he other boys, with the promise of seeing them again «(fonday morning. CHAPTER y. THE YOUNG TRAVELLERS. rriHE Sabbath came, and a fine autumnal day it was. Oscar's tliongbts were with Alfred, and the boys whose acquaintance he had made the afternoon pre- vious ; but there was little chance for him to join them in their walks on that day. He could not absent him- self from church or the Sunday-school, without his parents' knowledge ; and Mr. Preston had always de- cidedly objected to letting the'children stroll about the streets on the Sabbath. Oscar felt so uneasy, however, that in the afternoon, a little while before meeting- time, he left the house slyly, while his father was up- stairs, and walked around to Alfred's. But he saw no- thing of the boys, and was in his accustomed seat in the church when the afternoon services commenced. The Lext morning, Oscar rose earlier than usual, and as soon as he could despatch his breakfast, he hurried A STRONG TEMPTATION. 65 over to the laotel. The travellers had concluded to defer their journey one day longer, that they might have a better opportunity to see Boston ; and when Oscar ap- proached them, they were trying to pei'suade Alfred to stay away from school, and accompany them in their rambles. They immediately extended the same invita- tion to Oscar. Both he and Alfred felt very much in- clined to accede to their proposition, but they weie pretty sure that it w^ould be useless to ask their parents' con- sent to absent themselves from school for such a pur- pose. The point to be settled was, whether it Avould be safe to play truant for the day. Seeing that they hesitated, the oldest boy, whose name was Joseph, be- gan to urge the matter still more earnestly. " AVhat are you afraid of?" he said ; "come along, it 's no killing affair to stay away from school just for one day. You can manage so that nobody will know- it ; ^nd if they should find it out, it won't make any diflei'ence a hundred years hence. Come, now, I '11 tell you ^vhat I '11 do ; if you two will go around with us to-day, I '11 give you a quarter of a dollar apiece." Oscar and Alfred, after some little hesitation, yielded to their request, and the four boys started on their 6* 66 MISGIVINGS. tramp. It was not witliout many misgivings, however, that Oscar decided to accompany them. With him, the chances of detection were much greater than with AhVed. ISTo brothers of the latter attended school, to notice and report his absence. Witli Oscar, the case was different, and he did not see exactly how his truan- cy was to be concealed from his parents and teachers. But as Alfred was going with the boys, he finally con- cluded that he, too, would run the risk for at least half a day, and trust to luck to escape punishment. It was decided to go over to the neighboring city of Charlestown, first, and visit the Monument and Xavy- Yard, both of which the young strangers were quite anxious to see. Joseph, the oldest and most forward, began to be on quite intimate terms with Oscar and Al- fred. He threw off every restraint, and laughed and talked with them just as if they were old acquaintances. One thing very noticeable about him, was his profanity. Neither Alfred nor Oscar, I am sorry to say, was en- tirely free from this wicked and disgusting habit ; but they had made so little advance in this vice, compai'ed with their new fi-iend,tbat even they were slightly shocked by the frequent and often startling oaths of Joseph. STEALING. 67 The younger lad, whose name was Stephen, appeared to be quite unlike his brother. Though sociable, he was less gay and more reserved than Joseph, but he seemed to be much interested in the novel sights that met his eye at every step. On their way, the boys came to a cellar which was occupied by a dealer in fruits and other refreshments. Around the entrance were arranged numerous boxes of oranges, apples, nuts, candy, and similar articles, to tempt the passer-by to stop and purchase. The owner was not in sight, and Joseph, as he passed along, bold- ly helped himself from one of the boxes, taking a good hand-full of walnuts. On looking around, a moment after, he saw a man running up the cellar steps, and concluded that he, too, had better quicken his pace. He accordingly started on a brisk run, the other boys joining in his flight. - The man, who happened to wit- ness the theft from the back part of the cellar, soon saw that pursuit would be useless, and contented himself with shaking his fist, and uttering some anathemas which were inaudible to those for whom they were in- tended. "That was a pretty narrow escape, was n't it?" said €>8 THE STOLEN SUGAR. Joseph, after they had got a safe distance from the man. " It was so," replied Alfred ; " and it was lucky for you that he did n't catch you." " Why, what do you suppose he would have done ?" " He would have taken you up for stealing, I guess, for he looked mad enough to do anything," said Alfred. " Stealing ? Pooh, a man must be a fool to make such a fuss about a cent's-worth of nuts," replied Joseph. " I knew a boy," said Oscar, " who stole a cake of maple sugar from one of these stands, and his father had to pay two or three dollars to get him out of the scrape." " I would n't have done it," said Joseph ; " I 'd have gone to jafl first — that 's just my pluck." " But the boy did n't do it — it was his father that paid the money," added Oscar. " O, then, I suppose the boy was n't to blame," said Joseph, with all seriousness ; as though he really be- lie'i'^d that somebody was to blame, not for stealing the maple sugar, but for satisfying the man who had been injured by the theft. CHARLESTOWN. 69 They were now upon one of the bridges which cross Charles River, and connect the cities of Boston and Charlestown. After passing half-way over, they stopped a few minutes to gaze at the scene spread out around them. Oscar and Alfred pointed out to the strangers the various objects of interest, and they then continued their walk without interruption until they reached the Monument grounds, on Bunker Hill. After examining the noble granite shaft wdiich commemorates the first great battle of the American Revolution, they threw themselves down upon the grass, to contemplate at their leisure the fine panorama which this hill affords on a clear day. After lingering half an hour around the Monument, they turned their steps towards the Navy- Yard. On reaching it, they found a soldier slowly pacing back and forth, in front of the gate-w^ay ; but he made no ob- jection to their entering. Joseph and Stephen, who had never before visited an establishment of this kind, were first struck by the extent of the yard, and the air of order and neatness which seemed everywhere to pre- vail. They gazed with curiosity upon the long rows of iion cannons inteispersed with pyramids of cannon- 70 balls, piled up in exact order, which were spread out upon the parks. Then their wonder was excited by the dry-dock, with its smooth granite walls, its massive gates, and its capacious area, sufficient to float the largest frigate. The lofty ship-houses in which vessels are constructed, and the long stone rope-walk, with its curious machinery, also attracted their attention. So interested were they in these things, that nearly two hours elapsed before they started for home. On their way back to the hotel, Joseph entertained Alfred and Oscar with some incidents of his life. His mother, he said, died when he was quite young. His father went to sea as the captain of a ship, two years before, and had never been heard from. He had rich relatives, who wanted him to go to West Point and be a cadet, but he did not like to study, and had persuad- ed them to let him and Stephen go and live with their uncle at the west, who had no boys of his own, and wanted somebody to help him to manage his immense farm. Such, in brief, was Joseph's story. On their return route, the boys were careful to avoid passing by the cellar from w^iieh Joseph had stolen the nuts. With all his pluck and bravery, he did not care PERPLEXITY. 71 about meeting the man whose displeasure he had ex- cited a few hours before. It was twelve o'clock before the boys reached the hotel. Oscar, during the latter part of the walk, had been unusually silent. He was thinking how he should manage to conceal his truancy, but he could not hit upon any satisfactory plan. The more he reflected upon the matter, the more he was troubled and per- plexed about it. He might possibly hide his mis-spent forenoon from his parents, but how should he explain his absence to his teachers ? He could not tell. He decided, how^ever, to see his brothers before they should get home from school, and, if they had noticed his ab- sence, to prevail upon them to say nothing about it. " You '11 be back again after dinner, Oscar ?" said Alfred, as his friend started for home. " Yes," replied Oscar, with some hesitation ; " I '11 see you before school-time." " School-time ? You don't intend to go tq^ school this afternoon, do you ?" inquired Alfred. Oscar did not reply, but hastened homeward. He soon found Ralph and George, but as neither of them spoke of his absence from school, he concluded that 72 A DISCOVERY. -^ tliey were ignorant of it, and he therefore made no al- lusion to the subject. After dinner, Oscar had about half an hour to spend with Alfred ; for he felt so uneasy in his mind, that he had decided not to absent himself from school in the afternoon. He had gone but a short distance when he 'met his comrade, who had started in pursuit of him. " Well," said Alfred, " we 've been taken in nicely, that 's a fact." " Taken in — what do you mean ?" inquired Oscar. " Why, by those young scamps that we 've been showing around town." " I thought they told great stories," said Oscar; "but what have you found out about them ?" "I 've found out that they are the greatest h'ars I ever came across — or at least that the oldest fellow is," replied Alfred ; and he then went on to relate what transpired immediately after Oscar left them, on their return from Chai'lestown. The landlord, it seems, re- quested the two strange boys to step into one of the parlors ; and Alfred, not understanding the order, ac- companied them. They found two men seated there, ^he sight of whom seemed anything but pleasant to YOUNG RUNAWAYS. 73 Joseph and Stephen. These men were their fathers — for the boys were not brothers, and Joseph's account of their past life and future prospects was entirely false. They had run away from home, and the money which they had so profusely spent, Joseph stole from his father. The men, who had been put to much trouble in hunting up their wayward sons, did not greet them very cordially. They looked stern and offended, but said little. Joseph was obliged to deliver up his money to his father, and they immediately made preparations for returning home by the afternoon train. " Well," said Oscar, when Alfred had concluded his story, " I did n't believe all that boy said, at the time, but I thought I would n't say so." "Nor I, neither," said Alfred. "I guess he did n't expect his father's ship would arrive so suddenly, when he tried to stuff us up so." "Did your father know you went off with them in the forenoon?" inquired Oscar. " Yes, but he did n't care much about it. He told "me I must go to school this afternoon, and not stay away again without leave." The rules of the school required a written note of cs- 74 ACONFESSION. cuse from the i^arents, in case of absence. Neither of the boys was furnished with such an excuse, and after a little consultation, they concluded that their chances of escaping punishment would be greatest, if they should frankly confess how they had been duped and led astray by the young rogues whose acquaintance they had so suddenlj^ and imprudently formed. They supposed that the peculiar circumstances of the case, coupled with a voluntary confession, might excite some degree of sympathy, rather than displeasure, towards them. To make the matter doubly sure, it was ar- ranged that Alfred should speak to the master about the matter before school commenced. When the boys reached the school-room, they found the master already at his desk. He listened with inter- est to Alfred's story of the runaways, and was evidently pleased that he had so frankly confessed his fciult. As the hour for commencing the afternoon session had ar- rived, he told Alfred and Oscar they might stop after school, and he would take their case into consideration. The afternoon passed away, without any unusual oc- currence. When school was dismissed, • the teacher called Alfred and Oscar to his desk, and gave them % GOODADVICE. 75 some excellent advice in regard to forming acquaint- ances, and yielding to the solicitations of evil associates. He told them that the deception which had been prac- ticed upon them, should serve as a lesson to them here- after. They should not form sudden acquaintances with, strange and unknown boys, but should choose their associates from among those whom they knew to be of good habits. He also earnestly cautioned them against yielding to the enticements of those who would persuade them to do wrong. He told them that when- ever they laid the blame of their faults upon others, they made a sad confession of their own moral weak- ness. They riiust often encounter temptations, and evil examples and influences, even if they took pains to avoid them ; but they were not obliged to yield to these influences. They must learn to resist temptation, or they would speedily be swept away before it. Having faithfully pointed out their error and danger, the teacher dismissed the boys, . They listened respect- fully to his advice, and, when they were beyond his hearing, chuckled over their escape from a species of admonition 'that might have proved far more feeling and afl'ecting, if not more salutary, than the kindly- 76 LENIENCY EXPLAINED. meant reproof Avhicli had been administered to them. The leniency of the teacher, however, must be attribut- ed to his not fully understanding the character of their offence ; for Alfred had so artfully represented the facts of the case, as to make tlieir truancy appear in a milder liofht than it deserved to be reo:arded. % CHAPTER VI. " O^^^"^' ^^ craftily did he conduct the bargain, that he made the other boy throw in a pretty ivory pocket- comb to boot ! The little boy who was thus cruelly deceived, supposed 156 THE CHEAT DISCOVERED. lie was buying the ring that Oscar usually wore ; and, in truth, Oscar did give him to understand, in the course of the barter, that it was fine gold, a point on which the other boy did not appear to have much doubt. Oscar did not dare to tell any one what a good bar- gain he had made, for fear that the other boy would hear of it. Tiger appeared with a handsome collar around his neck the next morning ; and all the explana- tion any one could get from his young master was, that he " traded for it.'* A week or two elapsed before Oscar's victim discov- ered the imposition that had been practiced upon him. The ring, which had been proudly worn, at length be- gan to look dim and brassy ; and on being submitted to careful inspection, it w^as pronounced by competent authority to be not worth one cent. The owner was of course indignant, and he went at once to Oscar, and demanded a return of the collar arid comb. But Oscar laughed at the proposal. " A bargain is a bargain," said he, " and there can't be any backing out, after it 's all settled. You agreed to the trade, and now you must stick to it." "But it wasn't a fair bargain," said the other boy; 157 " you told me tlie ring was gold, and it is nothing but brass." " No, I did n't tell you it was gold," replied Oscar. " You imagined that. And I did n't tell you it was the one I wore either, — you imagined that too. It was my other ring that I said was gold, and I told you it cost two dollars, and so it did. I never told you this ring was gold, — I recollect perfectly about it." "Well, you know I supposed it was gold, or I would n't have traded for it," replied the boy ; " and besides, you made me think it was gold, whether you, really said it was or not." " That was your look-out," said Oscar. " When 2k man sells a thing, he is n't obliged to run it down.. You must look out for yourself when you make a bar- gain — that 's what I do." " I should think you did," replied the other ; " and I guess I shall remember your advice, if I ever trade with you again. There 's your old ring : now give me back my collar and comb," he continued, handing the ring to Oscar. " I shan't do any such thing," said Oscar^and. he re- 14 158 THE LESSON IN MORALS. fused to take the ring, and turned upon his heel, leaving the ether boy in no very pleasant state of mind." " Then you 're a great cheat and a swindler," cried tlie victim, gathering courage as Oscar retreated. " And you 're a little greenyj' replied Oscar, with a loud laugh. Oscar had prepared his mind for this explosion of indignation, and though he did not care much about it, lie was glad it was over Avith. He regarded the trans- action which led to it as a shrewd business operation, to be chuckled over, rather than repented of; and he had no idea of spoiling it all, by undoing the bargain. In Oscar's school, it was customary for the first class (of which he was a member) to devote the first half tour of every Monday morning to a lesson in morals. In these lessons, the duties which we owe to God, to our- selves, and to one another, wei-e explained and enforced. Although a text-book was used, the teacher did not confine himself to it, in the recitations, but mingled oral instruction v/ith that contained in the printed les- sons, often taking up incidents that occurred in school, to illustrate th-e principle he wished to establish. It so happened that on the Monday morning after THE NEWSBOY. 159 the occurrence just related, the subject of the moral lesson was dishonesty. The various forms of dis- honesty, — theft, robbery, fraud, &c., — were explained, and the distinction between, them pointed out. The teacher then proceeded as follows : "A gentleman was riding in the cars, one evening, when a newsboy passed through the train, and he pur- chased a paper, giving the boy by mistake a gold eagle instead of a cent. The boy noticed the mistake, but said nothing about it. Albert, you may tell me what you think of that boy's conduct." "It was dishonest," replied Albert; "because he knew that the money did not belong to him, and yet he kept it.** "But did not a part of the blame belong to the man who made the mistake ?" inquired the teacher. Albert, after thinking a moment, replied : " He was to blame for his carelessness, but not for the boy's dishonesty." " You are right," said the teacher. " The boy was guilty of stealing, just as much as if he had picked th mail's pocket, or broken into his house. But suppose, instead of the mistake being to the amount of ten dol- lars, it had only been a i'ew cents, — how then ?" 160 FORMS OF DISHONESTY. "It would have been just the same," replied the boy, "But what if the man was very rich, and woi?ld aever feel the loss, while the boy was poor, and net-d- ed the money ?" " That would have made no difference," replied Albert. " Very good," continued the teacher ; " when an honest man discovers a mistake in his own favor, he always hastens to rectify it. He will receive only what he is entitled to. Robert," he added, addressing an- other pupil, '' how is it with regard to lost articles ?" "When we find anything that has been lost," re- plied the boy addressed, " we should try to ascertain the owner, and return the article to him." " Is there any guilt in neglecting to do this ?" " Yes, sir, it is a kind of dishonesty." " You are right," added the teacher ; " the courts often punish men for this very offence, for it is a species of theft. And how of borrowing articles, and neglecting to return them, — is that honest?" " It is not," replied Robert. "Oscar," continued the teacher, "you may give your opinion of this case : suj^pose one of your THE BRASS RING. 161 acquaintances wants a certain article belonging to you, and by way of barter, offers you a finger-ring for it. You take it for granted that the ring is gold, but a week or two after the bargain is concluded, you discover that it is of brass, and of no value what- ever. The other boy knew all the while it was brass, and also knew you supposed it was gold. What should you say of such a transaction ? Was it honest?" ^ Oscar turned red, and looked confused, as this ques- tion was put to him. It was a minute or two before he made any reply, and then he said, in a hesitating man- ner : " If the other boy did n't tell me it was gold, I don't see as he was to blame." " But we will suppose there was no need of his tell- ing you so," added the master ; " we will suppose he managed the bargain so adroitly, that you never sus- pected he was not dealing fairly with you. In thati case, should you think he had acted honestly towards you?" " 1^0, sir," replied Oscar, but it came out with the utmost reluctance. , ,«. 14* 162 RESTITUTION. " Certainly not," said the teacher ; " it is dishonest to take advantage of another's ignorance, or simplicity, or necessity, in a bargain. Overreaching in trade is often dignified with the name of shrewdness, but, for all that, it is contrary to the rule of honesty. And now I have one more question to ask you : After you have discov- ered how your comrade has imposed upon you, what should you expect of him ?" Oscar made no reply. *' Should you not expect him to make full restitu- tion ?" "Yes, sir," he replied, in a scarcely audible voice. " Of course you would," continued the master ; " and if he refused, he would deserve double punishment." Several other forms of dishonesty were then consid- ered, such as the following : — withholding from another his just dues ; contracting debts which we know we cannot pay, or making promises we- know we cannot fulfil ; wasting or injuring the property of others, &c. In concluding, the teacher remarked, that it was not very pleasant to feel that we had been wronged and cheated ; but there was another feeling, a thousand-fold more to be dreaded — the feeling that we have wronged THE WARNING HEEDED. 163 and cheated others. And so ended the moral lesson for that morning. The particular bearing of this lesson upon Oscar, and the pertinency of the " case" he was called to decide upon, were not generally known to the class, though their suspicions might have been somewhat excited by his confusion, and his reluctance to answer the ques- tions put to him. The teacher had been informed of Oscar's dishonest bargain by the boy who suffered from it, and he chose this way to impress upon him the immorality of the transaction. He concluded, how- ever, to give him an opportunity to make a voluntary restitution, and so no further reference was made to the matter. Oscar was wise enough to heed the warning. Be- fore night, the brass dog-collar and the ivory pocket- comb were returned to their rightful owner. CHAPTER XII. SICKNESS, " VOU liave got a bad cold, Oscar," said Mrs. Pres. ton one evening towards the close of winter, as Oscar came in from his play, and w^as seized with a coughing spell. " And no wonder," she added, on glancing at his feet; "why, do you see how wet the bottoms of your pantaloons are ? I should hke to know where you have been, to get so wet — it is strange that you will not keep out of the water." " I should like to know how anybody could help getting wet feet this weather, with the slosh up to your knees," said Oscar. "I could walk about the streets all day without going over my shoes," replied his mother, " and so could you, if you tried to. I believe you go through all the mud- puddles you can jQnd, just to see how wet you can get. But it won't do for you to sit dov/n in this condition. Take WET FEET. 165 oft* your wet boots, and run up stairs and put on a pair of dry pantaloons and some dry stockings, and then you mny sit down to the fij'e and warm yourself." " I don't want to change my pantaloons and stock- ings," said Oscar ; " I '11 take off my boots and dry myself — that will do just as well." " No it won't," replied his mother; "you had better change your clothes, for you've got a real bad cold now, and I don't want you to get any more. Come, do you hear me? Run up to your chamber and put on some dry clothes." Oscar paid no attention to the command, but after removing his wet boots, sat down before tlie range to dry his feet and legs. Such instances of disobedience were too common in the fan\ily to attract any special notice, and Mrs. Preston said nothing more about the matter. Oscar, that afternoon, had been down to the shores of Charles River, near Cambridge Bridge, with Alfred Walton and several other boys. They had been amus- ing themselves upon the ice that had formed along the edge of the river, and which was now breaking up. They loosened some of the large cakes, and set them 166 THE ICE-CAKE. floating off upon the current towards the ocean. It was in this way that Oscar got his feet so wet. The next afternoon, when school was dismissed, Os- car, forgetting his wet feet and his cold, went again to the same place, with several of his cronies. Tiger also accompanied the party, for his master seldom went anywhere without him, except to school. The boys amused themselves, as on the previous day, with shov- insf off larp'e blocks of ice into the stream, and with running rapidly over floating pieces that were not large enough to bear them up. Sometimes they nar- rowly escaped a ducking, so venturesome were they ; and all of them got their feet pretty thoroughly soaked. It happened, after awhile, that a cake of ice upon which the boys were all standing, got disengaged from the shore, unperceived by them, and commenced float- ing into the river. They were all at work upon an- other ice-block, trying to push it off, and did not notice that they were going off themselves, until they were several feet from the shore. The distance was too great to leap, and the water was so deep that none- of them dared to jump off from their precarious footing. "Well, this is a pretty joke,"- said one of the boys, AFLOAT IN THE RIVER. 167 witli some- appearance of alarm. " I should like to know how we are going to get out of this scrape ?" " Get out of it ? — who wants to get out of it ?" re- plied Oscar. " I don't, for one — we shall have a first- rate sail down into the harbor ; shan't we, Alf ?" "The tide will take us right under the bridge, and I'm going to climb up one of the piers," said Alfred, who appeared to be thinking more of a way of escape than of the pleasures of the trip. " Pooh, I shan't get ofi" there," said Oscar. " I 'm in for a sail, and if the rest of you back out, I shan't. You '11 go too, won't you, Tom ?" Before Tom could answer, they all began to notice that their ice-cake gave signs that the burden upon it was greater than it could safely bear. The swift cur- rent began to whirl it about in a rather uncomfortable manner, and it was gradually settling under water. They all began to be very much alarmed — all but Tiger, who did not quite comprehend the situation of affairs, and who looked up into the boys' faces with an expression of curiosity, as though he wanted to say : " I wonder what mischief these little rogues are up to now ?" 168 SHOUTING FOR HELP. Several people who were crossing the bridge now noticed the perilous situation of the boys, and stopped to look at them. As soon as Alfi-ed noticed tliena, he cried out slowly, at the top of his voice : " Halloo, there ! send us a boat, will you ? we 're sinkiner!" There was some doubt whether the people on the bi-idge understood the cry, and the other boys repeated it as loud as they could, in the meantime also trying THE RESCUE. 169 to manifest their want by signs and gestures. Some of the spectators upon tlie bridge, who wei-e now quite numerous, shouted back in reply ; but the boys, being to their windward, coukl not understand what they said. Tlieir fiail support was now moving rapidly along, and whirling about in the eddies more alarming- ly than ever. It had sunk so low that they w^ere all standing in the water, and they expected it would shortly break to pieces and precipitate them all into the river. There were four of them upon the cake, besides the dog. The two youngest boys began to cry with fright ; but Oscar and Alfred, though they were as much alarmed as the others, did not manifest it in this way, but were looking anxiously towards the bridge and the shore for relief. The boys were not long kept in this dreadful state of suspense ; for pretty soon they discovered a boat putting out towards them from the end of the bridge. There Avere two men in it, each of whom was plying an oar. They called out to the boys not to be fright- ened, and in a few minutes they were alongside the fugitive ice-cake, whose living freight was safely trans- ferred to the boat. The boatmen then pulled for the 15 170 EFFECTS OF EXPOSURE. wharf from wliicli they came, and the rescued party had the pleasure of standing once more upon firm ground. They were so overjoyed at their escape that they forgot to thank the men who had taken so much trouble to rescue them. They were not ungrateful, however ; though it would have been better if their words as well as their looks had expressed the senti- ment they felt. As soon as they reached the wharf, the men advised them to run home and dry them- selves, which they proceeded to do. When Oscar reached home, he was so hoarse, from hallooing, that he could not speak aloud. AYhen his mother heard of his exposure, and saw how wet he was, she was much concerned for him. She wished him to change his damp clothing, but he did not think it necessary, and instead of complying with her desire, he sat down to the fire and dried himself. He had but little appetite for supper ; and a headache coming on in the evening, he retired to bed eai'ly. Before do- ing so, however, he took a dose of medicine which his mother had prepared, to " throw ofi"" his cold. After a feverish and restless night — in which, in his troubled dreams, Oscar had floated to sea upon a small SICKNESS. 171 piece of ice, and, after a long agony, foundered alone in fathomless waters — he awoke in the morning feeling very strangely. Every few moments a cold chill ran through, his body, that maie him shiver until the bed trembled beneath him. His head ached badly, and there was also a pain in his back. He tried to raise himself up, but his arms had lost their strength, and lie was barely able to support himself a moment upon Lis elbow. By-and-bye his brothers, who slept in the same room in another bed, got up, and Oscar informed them that he was too weak to get off the bed. They soon called in their father and mother, who, after look- ing at the sick bo}^, concluded to send for a physician. After breakfast, Ralph was despatched for the doctor, who soon arrived, and was conducted into Oscar's cham- ber. Seating himself upon the bedside, he took the sick boy's wrist into his hand, and began to talk with him very pleasantly, asking him various questions about his feefings, the manner in which he took cold, &c. Having ascertained all the facts and symptom of the case, he told the family he thought Oscar was suffeiing from an attack of lung fever, and he then gave directions as to the manner in which the disease 172 GROWING WORSE. should be treated. He also wrote a recipe for some medicine, to be procured at the apothecary's. The terms used in it were Latin, and very much abbrevi- ated, besides, so that they were unintelh'gible to Mrs. Preston ; for this is a custom among pliysicians, that has come down from ancient times. Seeing Mi's. Pres- ton was in some doubt about the prescription, he ex- plained to her what the articles were that composed it, and the effect they would have upon the patient. • After the doctor had gone, it was decided to remove Oscar into another chamber, in a lower story, where he would be more comfortable, and where, also, it would be more convenient to wait upon him. "Wrap- ping him up warmly in the bed-clothes, his father took him in his arms, and carried him to the room he was to occupy for the present. In spite of his medicine, Oscar continued to grow worse, through the day. He longed for night to come, that he might go to sleep ; but when it came, it did Dot bring with it the refreshing slumber of health. Short naps and troubled dreams alternated with long, weary hours of wakefulness ; and the sun, at its next rising, found him sicker than before. The pains in his PEEVISHNESS. 173 head and cliest were more severe ; liis skin was hot and dry ; his cheeks were flushed wij:h fever ; he breathed with difficulty, and his congh had become quite distressing. He felt cross and fretful, too, *nd nothing that was done for him seemed to give him satisfaction. He was unwilling that any one sJiould attend upon him, except his mother, and refused to receive his food or medicine from any hand but hers. If she happened to be absent from his room more than a few moments, when he was awake, he would insist upon her being called back. But though Oscar would not allow his mother to leave him, she did not suit him much better than the other members of the family. It was with considerable difficulty that she could coax him to take the medicines the doctor had ordered. Then she was obliged to deny him all forms of nourishment, except a little gum-arabic water, — an arrangement at which he complained a good deal. Oscar's fever continued to run for more than a week, the violence of the disease increasing from day to day. Then a favorable change took place, and the doctor told him the fever had turned, and he was getting ' 15* 174 GETTING BETTER. better. For a day or two before this, however, he was very ill ; so ill, indeed, that he submitted to what- ever the doctor ordered, without a woid of complaint. He-felt that there was danger, and he dare not stand in the way of the means used for his recoveiy. To this, perhaps, he owed the favorable turn the disease had taken; forbad he refused to take his medicines, as he did at the commencement of his sickness, or even had he only engaged in a fruitless but exhausting con- test with his mother, the scale might have turned the other wa}^, and the fever ended in death. Getting better ! That was the best news Oscar had heard for many a day. He almost wanted to kiss the lips that spoke those encouraging words. He always liked Dr. Liscom, but never so well as at that moment. It was good news to all the household, to©, and flew quickly from one to another. In fact, the children grew so jubilant over it. that their mother had to re- mind them that Oscar was yet too sick to bear any ioise iu the house. "0 dear," said George, "I've got tired of keeping, so still. How long will it be before we can make a real good noise, mother ?" M IMPATIENCE. 175 " And liow long before I can sing, and practice \hy music-lessons, mother?" inquired Ella. " And how long before Oscar can go out and play ?" inquired Ralph, more thoughtful for his sick brother than for himself. " I can't tell," replied their mother ; " you must all keep still a few days longer, for Oscar is very weak now, and the noise disturbs him. The doctor thinks it will take several weeks for him to get fully well, but he will soon be able to sit up, I hope." The next morning, Oscar felt decidedly better, and so he continued to improve day by day. But his old im- patience soon began to return. He grumbled every time the hour returned to take his drops, and he fairly rebelled against the food that was prepared for him — a little weak gruel, when his appetite was clamoring for a hearty meal of beef and potatoes ! During his sick- ness, many little delicacies had been sent in to him by friends and neighbors, and from most of these too he was still debarred by the inexorable doctor. He teased his mother to let him have things the doctor had for- bidden, and was offended with her Avhen she refused. He thus made a great deal of unnecessary trouble and 176 A DISPUTE. suffering for his mother, who had served him so devo- tedly through this sickness that her own health was giving way. A day or two after his fever turned, Oscar wished to sit up in a chair, and begged very hard to be allowed to get up fi'om the bed. " Why, Oscar," said his mother, " you could not sit up two minutes, if I should put you in a chair. You have no idea how weak you are." ." No, I aint weak," replied Oscar; " I bet you I can w^alk across the room just as well as you can — you don't know how strong I 've grown within a day or two. Come, mother, do let me get up, will you ?" " You are crazy to talk so, my son," answered Mrs. Preston. " If you should try to stand up, you would faint away as dead as a log. It will be a week before yon are strong enough to walk about." " I believe you mean to keep me sick as 'ong as you can," was Oscar's unfeeling reply. " I am tiicd almost to death of laying a-bed," he added, and the tears be gan to gather in his eyes. His mother felt hurt by these words, but she attribut- ed them to the weakenino^ and irritatinof influence of THE EASY CHAIR. 177 disease, and forgave them as qnictly as they were ut- tered. She even yielded to his wishes so far as to offer to let him sit up in bed a little while. He gladly ac- ceded to the proposal, and putting his arms around her neck, she slowly raised him up ; but he had no sooner reached an upright position than his head began to " fly round like a top," and he was very glad to be let down again to his pillow. This little experiment satis- fied him for the day. It was a fine April morning when Oscar was first taken up from his sick bed, and placed in an easy chair, well lined with blankets and comforters. This was a memorable event in his life, the first time he sat up after ne^ly three weeks' confinement to his bed. He was dragged to the front window, from which he could see the people upon the street below. How familiar, and yet how strange, everything and everybody looked to his sick eyes ! And then, to have his toast and drink set before him upon a corner of the table, where he could help himself, and eat and drink with some com- fort, — wasn't that " grand," to use his own expressive term 1 Oscar's recovery was now pretty rapid, but his moth- 178 FEAR OF A RELAPSE er had to watch him veiy sharply, to prevent him from running into excesses, to which his impatience continu- ally prompted him. .It was liard to make him realize that there was yet some danger of a relapse, and that prudence would be necessary for several weeks to come. CHAPTER XIII. GETTING WELL /^SCAR had reason to remember the first time he went down stairs, after his fit of sickness. It was in the night-time. He awoke, feeling quite hungry; for he was yet kept on a spare diet, which was far from satisfying the cravings of his appetite. He was alone in his room, and all the rest of the family were askep. A lamp was burning dimly in the fire-place of his chamber, and the door that led into his mother's room was open, that she might be ready, at the least sound of alarm. After thinkino- the matter over a few o minutes, and satisfying himself that no one in the house was awake, he determined to go down stairs in quest of something to eat. "What is the use of starving a fellow to death, be- cause he has been sick ?" he said to himself. " I might as well die one way as another ; and if there 's anything 180 A MIDNIGHT SUPPER. to eat in the house, I'm "bound to have it. I've lived on slops and toasted bread three weeks, and I can't stand it any longer." He accordingly got up, and taking the lamp, stol^ very cautiously into the entry, and down stairs, having nothing but his night-clothes upon him. The snap- ping of the stairs, under his tread, ^Yas the only noise that was heard, and this did not awake any of the household. He proceeded at once to the kitchen closet, and commenced helping himself with a free hand to its contents. He began upon a dish of corned beef and vegetables, from which he partook quite liberally. He then hastily swallowed a piece of mince-pie, and a slice or two of cake, when, the night air beginning to ^eel chilly, he hurried back to bed. This last operation was by no means so easy as he had imagined it would be. His knees were very weak and " shaky," and it seemed as though they could not suppoit him, when he undertook to go up stairs. He was alarmed, and would have given up the attempt, and called for help, but for the dread of being caught in such a flagrant act of disobedience. So he persisted in his efforts, and finally reached his chamber, quite exhausted. THE DOCTOR. 181 After a heavy and troubled sleep, Oscar awoke in the morning, feeling quite wi-etchedly. As soon as his mother entered the room, her quick eye detected the unfavorable change; but he did not seem inclined to complain much of his feelings, and appeared averse to conversing about them. She ascertained, however, after awhile, that Oscar was more feverish than he had been, that he had a severe pain in his chest, and that his cough was worse. Many were the sur- mises thrown out, by his father and mother, as to the probable cause of triis change in his symptoms; but as for himself, he seemed entirely at a loss to account for the mysteiy, and left them to form their own conjectures. The doctor, who now visited Oscar only two or three times a week, was sent for after breakfast. When he arrived, he questioned Mrs. Preston very closely as to the manner in which the patient had been treated, and he also addressed many inquiries to Oscar ; but he learned nothing from either that could account for the renewed attack of fever. He sat a few moments, in a thoughtful mood, seemingly at a loss what to say, when Oscar, who had complained much of nausea for the last half hour, began to show symptoms of vomit- 16 182 THE MYSTERY SOLVED. ing. A basin was brought, and the contents of his stomach were quickly discharged into it. The mystery was now explained. Mrs. Preston looked on in silent astonishment, while the doctor could hardly repress his anger at this exhibition of the contents of his patient's stomach. There were great j^ieces of un- masticated meat and potato, mixed up with a porridge of half-dissolved pie and cake, the whole forming a medley of hearty and indigestible substances, that would have taxed the strong stomach of a healthy man. "Well," said the doctor, turning to Mrs. Preston, when Oscar got through, " what does all this mean ?" "I know not; you must ask him," rephed Mrs. Preston. The same question, put to Oscar, brought from him a reluctant confession of the last night's folly. When he had concluded, the doctor arose, and taking his hand, said: " I will bid you good-bye. It 's of no use for me to attend upon you any longer, if yoa abuse my con- fidence in this way. If you want to kill»yourself, I won't stand in your way. Good morning." Before Oscar recovered from his astonishment, the THE DOCTOR S ANGER. 183 doctor had reached the entry. Addressing his mother, who was following him, he said : "Call him back, mother — tell him I won't do so again— call him back." The doctor heard the message, and returned. " I will consent to prescribe for you only on one con- dition," he said; "and that is, that you will agree to do precisely as I tell you to. You must take the medicines I order, and eat only what I tell you to, or I will. have ry^thing more to do with you. Do you agree to that?" " Yes, sii'," replied Oscar. The doctor resumed his seat, and felt the patient's pulse. He had not yet got entirely over his irritation, and, turning to Mrs. Preston, he remarked : " If the patient was a little stronger, my first prescrip- tion would be a smart external application of birch or ratan ; but, as it is, we shall have to omit that for the present. You need not think you will escape punish, ment, however," he continued, turning to Oscar. "This scrape of yours will put you back more than one week and if you are not careful you may never get your health again. You may ti'ifle with the doctor, but you can't trifle with the lung fever." 184 SLOW RECOVERY. The doctor then gave directions as to Oscar's diet and medicine, and departed, but not until he had again warned him ao^ainst leavino- the room without his moth- er's consent, or eating any articles forbidden by her. Oscar found no opportunity after this to evade the commands of the doctor, had he been so disposed, for some one was always with him by day and night. Still, his recovery seemed to have been checked very much- by his relapse, and the doctor's skill was taxed pretty severely to bring the fever to a favorable termi- nation. As it was, his attempt was not fully success- ful ; for the fever, in spite of all he could do, left be- hind it «, cough, and a weakness of the lungs, which gave Oscar's parents no little alarm at times. For a fortnight after his midnight supper, Oscar al- lowed his mother and the doctor to do just as they pleased with him. He yielded to their wishes, and their orders w^ere law to him. At the end of that time the doctor discontinued his regular visits. Oscar was now able to go out-doors a little in very pleasant weather ; but his cough rendered prudence still very necessary. His confinement, however, was daily grow- ing more iiksome, and sometimes he disregarded the THE MENAGERIE. 185 positive commands of his parents by going out when the weather was unsuitable. One morning, a menagerie, or collection of wild beasts, was to enter the city in grand procession. There were to be several elephants and camels on foot, be- sides hundreds of other animals (invisible) in carriages. There was also to be a mammoth gilt chariot, filled with musicians, and drawn by ever so many horses. The procession was to pass very near the street where Oscar lived, and he intended to go and see it ; but when the morning came, there was a cold, drizzling rain, with an uncomfortable east wind, and his mother told him he must not think of going out. He did think of it, however, and not only thought of it, but went. While his mother was up stairs, he quietly slipped out, and went to the corner the procession was expected to pass. There he waited about an hour, until he became thoroughly wet and chilled, and then return- ed home, without seeing the sight ; for the showmen had shortened their intended route on account of the storm. He entered the house, vexed by his disappoint- ment and the uncomfortable plight he was in ; and when his mother mildly reproved him for his conduct, 16* * * 186 A CURIOUS LETTER. and entreated him to be more careful of himself, he only replied that .he did not «^ish to live, if he must be shut up in the house all the time. This act of imprudence and disobedience made him a close prisoner in the house for several days, besides causing him no little suffering. Oscar employed much of his leisure time in reading, during his confinement in-doors. His acquaintances lent him many interesting books, with which he be- guiled the weary hours. One day, happening to think of a volume belonging to his classmate, Benjamin Wright, which he thought he should like to read, he sent word by Ralph that he wished to borrow it. The next morning Benjamin brought it to school, and Ralph took it home to Oscar. On removing the paper in which it was wrapped up, a letter dropped out, which Oscar found was directed to himself. He opened it, and a smile lit up his countenance as he glanced over the sheet, which was filled up with drawings and writ- ing of an amusing character. Benjamin was quite fa- mous among the boys for the skill and facility with which he made sketches, and in this letter he had given a curious specimen of his artistic talent. The following is a copy of this production : ITS CONTENTS. 187 Dear Oscar: I am sorry to hear you 're in weakness and pain, And I send you a book to beguile your tired brain ; I send also some puzzles, to stir up your wit, And tempt you to laugh, when you really don't feel like :t one bit I What a queer name ! ' What do we all do when we first get into bed ? Why is swearing like an old coat ? What is that which is lengthened by being cut at both ends ? My first, if you do, you won't hit ; My second, if you do, you will have it ; ' My whole, if you do, you won't guess it. Turn me over, pray. 188 FUN FOR THE CHILDREN. A word there is, five syllables contains ; Take one awaj, no syllable remains. "What is that which is lower with a head than without one ? "WK was the first whistler ? ' What tune did he whistle ? How do you swallow a door? "What is that which lives in winter, dies in summer, and grows with . its root upwards ? If you were to tumble out of the window, what would you fall against ? "Why is this like the Falls of Niagara ? If my puzzles are simple, and my pictures a fright, Then just laugh at me, and it will all B. Wright. This letter was the prime source of attraction to all the children, the rest of the day; and its reception formed an era in Oscar's sick-day experience, not easily to be forgotten. All the family, from Mr. Preston down to little George, set themselves to work to guess MAKING A COPY. 189 out the riddles ; but in some of them, they found more than their match. To Oscar, however, the letter was something more than a collection of drawings and puz- zles. It was a token of interest and sympathy from a boy towards whom he had never manifested a very friendly spirit. Benjamin's high standing in the school, both for scholarship and behavior, had awakened in Oscar a secret feeling of jealousy or resentment towards him. He was a poor boy, too, and this by no means increased Oscar's respect for him. But now, Oscar be- gan to feel ashamed of all this ; and as instances of his unkind treatment of his generous classmate came up in remembrance, he wished he had the "power to blot them from existence. He determined thenceforth to "stand up" for Benjamin,' and began to plan some way of making a return for his manifestation of good feeling. Ella wanted to carry Benjamin's letter to school, to show to the girls, but Oscar would not allow it to go out of his hands. She then begged the privilege of copying it, to which he consented. She did the best she could, no doubt, but her drawings probably did not quite do justice to the subjects ; for Oscar declared that her copy was more comical than the original. She lent 190 AN ARRIVAL. it to some of her schoolmates, one of whom was roguish enough to show it to Benjamin himself! He laughed heartily at the caricature; but thinking it was getting him rather more notoriety than he wished, he put it in his pocket, and that was the end of it. In consequence of his many acts of imprudence, Oscar got along very slowly in his recovery. Yet he was daily growing more impatient of his long confinement, and the utmost vigilance of his parents was necessary to restrain him from doing himself harm. During stormy weather, which was not rare at that season of the year, he was not allowed to go out, and the time passed heavily with him. One rainy afternoon, as he was sitting listlessly at a front window, watching for some object of interest to pass, a coach stopped at the door, and his heart beat high at the thought of his dulness being dispelled by the arrival of "company." The driver opened the coach door, and out jumped a stout, brown-faced man, whom Oscar at once recognized as his uncle, John Preston, from Maine^ The arrival of Uncle John was soon heralded through the house, and a warm greeting extended to him. He UNCLE JOHN. 191 usually visited the city thrice a year on business, and on such occasions made his brother's house his stop- ping-place. He lived in the town of Brookdale, where he had a family ; but he was engaged in the lumber business, and generally spent the winter months in the forests of Maine, with laro-e o-ano-s of lotjQ^ers, who were employed to cut down trees, and convey them to the banks of the streams, where they were floated down to the mills in the spring freshets. These forests are far from any settlement, and the lumber-men live in log- huts, in a very independent and care-for-nobody sort of way. Oscar had often heard his uncle describe their manner of life, and, to him, there was something quite fascinatinof about it. He thouajht he should like the logging business very much — all but the ivorhing part of it ; he was afraid that would spoil the whole, for his Uncle John always represented it as being pretty hard work. Oscar had four cousins in Brookdale, the children of his Uncle John, none of 'whom he had ever seen. He had many questions to ask about them, in the course of which he expressed a wish that he might visit them. His uncle replied that he should like to take him home - 192 SOLUTIONS or puzzles. with him, and, as he was sick, he thought the journey might do him good. He afterwards talked with Os- car's parents about the matter, and they finally conclud- ed to let him go, hoping that a few weeks in the coun- try would improve his health. Note. — The following are the solutions of the puzzles, &g., in Benjamin's letter, contained in this chapter. The first puzzle is the name of Oscar Preston, enigmaticallj express- ed. 2. Make an impression. 3. It is a bad habit. 4. A ditch. 5. Mistake. 6. Monosyllable. 7. A pillow. 8. The wind. 9. " Over the hills and far away." 10. Bolt it. 11. An icicle. 12. Against your inclination. 13. It is a cataract (cat erect). CHAPTER XIV. THE JOURNEY, /^SCx^R'S valise was well packed for his journey, and many were the injunctions given him by his mother, in regard to his conduct during his absence from home. The morning for his departure soon came, and, in company with his uncle, he proceeded to the depot, and took the cars for Portland. It was a mild spring morning, near the close of May. Oscar secured a seat by a window, from which he could see the coun- try they passed through ; while his uncle, to whom the journey was no novelty, seated himself by his side, and was soon absorbed in his morning newspaper. The keen relish with which Oscar set out upon his long ride gradually wore off, and he began to feel weary long before the train reached its destination. It was just noon when they arrived at Portland; and as it was too late to reach Brookdale that day, Oscar'" 17 194 THE HOTEL, uncle concluded to stop there until the next morning. They proceeded to a hotel, where they booked their names, and were shown to a chamber. After dinner, Mr. Preston took Oscar to walk, and showed him some of the most notable places about town. But the latter felt too tired to walk about a great deal, and spent most of the afternoon in the hotel, while his uncle was off attending to some business. After supper, Mr. Preston again went out to make some calls. He invited Oscar to go with him, but he preferred to remain in the hotel. He lounged awhile in the bar-room, as it was called (though there was no bar in it), listening to the conversation of the men who had gathered there. At length, beginning to grow sleepy, he retired to his chamber, taking with him a queer little lamp the landlord gave him, which appeared to hold only about a thimblefull of oil. Oscar thought it was a stingy contrivance, and had some notion of sit- ting up to see how long it would burn ; but his eye- lids grew heavy, and he gave up the idea. Throwing off his clothing, he extinguished his diminutive lamp, and took possession of one of the beds in the room, of which there were two. As he composed himself to EVENING PRAYER. 195 sleep, a slight sense of lonesomeness stole over him, when he remembered that he was alone in a strange house and a strange city, more than a hundred miles from his home ; and almost unconsciously he found himself reverently repeating the little prayer he ha been taught by his mother in infancy, but which of lat years, in his sad waywardness, he had outgrown and almost forgotten : " Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep ; If I should die before I wake, I praj the Lord my soul to take." He had occasionally repeated to- himself this simple but appropriate evening petition during his late illness ; but, strange to tell, for several years previous to that time, the thought of asking anything of the great Giver of all good had scarcely ever entered his mind. Oscar was soon fast asleep, and the next thing he was conscious of was the striking of- a strange cllurch- clock, that awoke him in the morning. His uncle was dressing himself, and the sun was shining in at th window. For a moment, he was puzzled to determine where he was ; but his recollection returned when his uncle remarked : 196 THE CAR S. It " Come, Oscar, it is time to get up, — we liave got to be at the dei^ot in an liour." Oscar jumped out of bed, and was dressed and ready for the breakftist table before the bell rang. Af- er the morning meal was despatched, — for it was lit- erally a work of despatch, judging from the celerity with which the heaj)ing plates of hot biscuits and beef- steak disappeared from the long table, — Mr. Preston settled with the landlord, and proceeded with Oscar to the raih'oad depot. " How much further have we got to go ?" inquired Oscar, after they had taken their seat in the car. " About one hundred and twenty miles," replied his uncle ; " and thirty-five of it will be in a stage-coach — that is the worst of the whole journey." " I shall like that part of it first-rate, I guess," said Oscar. '' If they have good horses, I know I shall." " You will find out how you like it, before night," added Mr. Preston, with a smile. The cars were soon on their way, and Oscar's eyes and attention were fully engaged in taking note of the scenery from the windows. The ap- pearance of the country did not differ much from THESTAGE-COACH. 197 that through which he passed the day previous ; and long before he reached the end of his eighty- miles' ride, his attention began to flag, and his eyes to grow weary. It was about eleven o'clock, when they arrived at the depot at which they were to leave the train. Here they had an opportunity to rest an hour, and to take dinner, before resuming their jour- ney. After dinner, the stage-coach made its appearance, and the passengers began to stow themselves away within it. Oscar mounted the outside, and took a seat with the driver, with whom he was soon on inti- mate terras. All things being ready, the horses started, at the familiar " Get up !" and they were on their wa,j toward Brookdale. The horses did not prove quite so smart as Oscar hoped they would, and the coach was a heavy and hard-riding concern, compared with those he was ac- customed to ride upon at home. But the road was good, though hilly, and the scenery, much of the way, was very pleasant. The driver, too, was quite talkative, and Oscar being the only outside passenger, enjoj^ed the full benefit of his communicativeness. Occasion- 17* 198 WHAT THEY SAW. ally they passed tbroiigli a village, with its rows of neat white houses, its tall church steeple, its busthng store, and its groups of children playing in the streets. Now and then they stopped a few moments, to leave a passenger, a package, or a mail-bag ; for the strong leathern bags, with brass padlocks, which the driver had carefully packed away under his box, contained the United States' mails for the towns along his route. As they advanced on their way, the villages became ■less frequent, the farm houses were more scattering, and the country grew more wild. Sometimes the road extended for miles through thickly-wooded forests. Occasionally they w^ould come in sight of a river, and, perhaps, would hear the clatter and whizzing of a saw-mill, or get a glimpse of a raft of logs float- ing lazily down the stream. It was about six o'clock when the stage stopped at the post-office of a small settlement, and the driver told Oscar he was going to leave him there. His seat had grown tiresom.e, during the last few hours, and he was by no means sorry to leave it. " Well, Jerry, here I am again," said Mr. Preston, COUSIN JERRY. 199 addressing a boy who stood by. "How are all the folks at home ?" " They are well," replied the boy addressed. " This way, Oscar," said Mr. Preston, pointing to a horse and wagon on the opposite side of the street. " Oscar, this is your cousin Jerry," he continued, and the boys shook hands with each other, in acknowledg- ment of the introduction. Oscar now learned that they were yet five miles from Brookdale, and that as the stage did not pass any nearer to his uncle's, Jerry had come over with a horso to take his father home. There being but one seat to the wagon, Mr. Preston and Oscar took possession of it, while Jerry seated himself on the floor behind them. While on the way to Brookdale, Oscar ad- dressed several remarks to his cousin ; but the latter seemed shy, and they did not get acquainted with each other very fast. They passed but very few houses, and Oscar looked in vain for any signs of a village. At length, when he thought they could not be far from their journey's end, he inquired : " Where is the village, uncle John ? Shan't we see any of it, going to your house ?" 200 THE journey's end. " This is the village," replied Mr. Preston. " This a village !" exclaimed Oscar ; " why, I don't see any houses." " This is all the village there is," replied his uncle ; *' there are hardly any two houses in sight of each other in the town." They were now approaching an old, two-story farm- house, in the doorway of which a woman and several children were standing, looking towards them. This proved to be the end of their journey. Having driven the wagon into the large barn which stood nearly op- posite the house, Mr. Preston left Jerry to put up the horse, and proceeded at once to the- house with his nephew. Mrs. Preston had seen Oscar in Boston, and came out to meet him. She welcomed him very cordially, and inquired after all the other members of the family. She then introduced him to his three other cousins, Emily, Harriet, and Mary, all of whom were younger than Jerry, and quite as shy and silent as he, at the presence of a stranger. Supper was now ready, and all the family, including James, the hired man, seated themselves at the table. Mr. Preston, during the meal, talked freely of what he LITTLE MARY. 201 had seen and done since he left home ; but the children maintained their gravity and silence, though Oscar tried hard to break the ice of restraint with Jerry, who sat by his side. A strange face was an unusual thing among them, and they could not get over it in a mo- ment. After supper, Mrs. Preston and her oldest daughter cleared off the table and washed the dishes ; James and Jeny went out to the barn ; Mr. Preston sat down to a table to examine some papers he had in his pocket- book ; while Harriet and Mary remained, to keep Oscar company. The latter now began to make advances towards his youngest cousin, who was the prettiest and most interesting of the children. A little coaxing brought her to his side. " Do you know what my name is. Sissy ?" he in- quired. ^Yes; it's Oscar," she replied. * " Oscar what ?" he inquired. " Cousin Oscar," she answered, after a little hesitation. " Yes, but that is n't all of it," replied Oscar ; " don't you know the other part of it — Cousin Oscar — — what ?" 202 'CONVERSATION. Mary looked thoughtful a moment, and then replied, in a confident tone, " Boston." Oscar could not help laughing at this amusing mis- take, and Mar J, feeling hurt at the liberty he took, be- gan to move away ; but he held her by the hand, say- ing: " No, don't go yet, Sissy — you got my name almost right, after all. Cousin Oscar Preston, from Boston, — that was what you meant to say, was n't' it ?" " Yes," replied Mary. "Now tell me what your name is?" continued Oscar. " Mary Preston," she replied. " And how old are you ?" " I 'm going to be six next winter," she answered, with animation. " Very well, — you 're a smart little girl," replied Oscar. " How old be you ?" inquired Mary, now turning^the table upon her questioner. " I 'm fourteen," said Oscar. " You 're a smart little boy," added Mary, with a roguish twinkle in her eye, and she darted out of the room with a merry laugh. GETTING ACQUAINTED. 203 After that, there was no more shyness between Mary and Oscar. With the older children, however, Oscar did not get acquainted quite so easily, particularly with the girls. He made but little progress with any of them that evening, until he retired with Jerry, with whom he was to sleep during his visit. After they had got into bed, Jerry's tongue was loosed, and be fore they went to sleep his reserve had almost entirely vanished. CHAPTER XV. BROOKDALE. rriHE next morning the air was extremely raw and chilly, and there were strong indications of rain. Oscar's uncle and aunt advised him so earnestly not to expose himself to the cold and damp wind, that he did not extend his rambles any further than to the barn that day. But if he did not go far, he made many new acquaintances. Having made sure of Jerry and Mary, he left his other two cousins to " surrender at discretion," and turned his attention in another direc- tion. His first performance was to introduce himself to Billy, the horse, who was eating the breakfast James had just given him. After rubbing and talking to him awhile, he paid his respects to a pair of oxen and three or four cows, which he helped James and Jerry to drive into the pasture near the barn. He next vibited the hog's, and then the hens. This completed the hst of A LONG VACATION. 205 live stock on the farm. He then had a froHc with Jerry in the hay-loft, in the midst of which he sudden- ly stopped and inquired : " Is n't it almost time for you to go to school, Jerry ?" " No," his cousin replied, with a laugh, " it wants just six months of it." "Six months!" exclaimed Oscar; "what do you mean ? Don't you go to school ?" " Yes, I go when there is any school ; but it does n't commence till next December," replied Jerry. "That's a queer idea," said Oscar ; "I should like to know how long your school keeps, after it begins." " It keeps three months," replied Jerry. " I should like that first-rate — I wish I lived here," said Oscar ; " I have to go to school all the time. But why does n't your school keep more than three months ?" " I don't know," replied Jerry ; " I guess it 's because folks are too stingy to pay for it. They 've been talk- ing of having a summer school, but I don't believe it will amount to anything." " I should hope it would n't if 1 lived here," said Os- car. *' What capital times you must have ! — no school 18 206 WORK AND PLAY. to bother you, and no lessons to get. But I su] you have to work some — don't you ?" " No, not much," said Jerry ; " I help a little in planting and haying time, and have a few chores to do about the house, — that 's all." ** Do you have many boys to play with ?" inquired Oscar. " There are boys enough," replied his cousin, " but they are scattered all over town, — that 's the worst of it There is only one fellow of my age that lives near here, and he's half a mile off." " If you call that near, I should like, to know what you call distant," said Oscar. "I'm afraid I should be lonesome if I lived here." "Halloo, it rains!" said Jerry, as the big drops be- gan to sound upon the roof over their heads. " Then I 'm going in," added Oscar, and they both started for the house. It proved to be a rainy day, and Oscar was obliged to find his amusement in-doors through its remaining hours. With his four cousins to help him, this was not a very difficult matter. When he retired at night, he felt quite at home in his new quarters. A FINE MORNING. 207 The sun rose clearly the next morning, and every- thing looked the more beautiful for the rain. To Oscar, the fields, not only seemed greener, but the hills looked higher, and the trees more majestic, than they did the day before. " Why," he exclaimed, as he stood before the cham- ber window, " there is a pond away off there, is n't there ? I did n't know that before." " Yes, that 's a pond," replied Jerry, " and we 've got a small river, too, but you can't see it from here. We '11 go over to the pond, some warm day, and go into water ; it 's a real good place to bathe." " Perhaps we '11 go to-day," said Oscar ; '* it looks as though it were going to be real warm." Mrs. Preston now called to the boys that breakfast was ready, and they hurriedly finished dressing them- selves, and descended to the kitchen. Having washed his face at the sink, Oscar stepped to the door, and used his pocket-comb ; but Jerry was in too great a hurry to go through this last operation, and he was about taking his seat at the table, with his hair stand- ing up in every direction, when his father inquired : " Jerry, what have you been doing to your head 2" , 208 NEATNESS. " Nothing," replied Jerry, with a look of surprise. " Well, I think you had better do something to it, before you come here," said his father. " Oscar will think you were brought up among the wild Arabs, if you come to the table with such a mop of hair as that about your head. Don't you see how nicely he has smoothed his hair V " He 's got a comb of his own. I wish you would buy me one, father," said Jerry. " Don't stand there talking — go and comb your hair," said Mr, Preston, somewhat sharply. To tell the truth, Jerry did need a lesson in neat- ness; and in this respect, Oscar was a very good model for him to imitate. Having reduced his snarly locks to something like order and smoothness, Jerry took his seat at the table, much improved in appear- ance. " You '11 have a chance to go about some to-day, Oscar," said Mr. Preston ; " it 's about twenty-five de- grees warmer than it was yesterday." " Father," said Jerry, " I and Oscar — ^" " I and Oscar — where did you learn your manners ?" interrupted his mother. A PROPOSAL. 209 Jerry was for a moment in doubt wh ether to be offended or not at this second unexpected lesson in ^ood-breeding ; but lie finally concluded to make the best of it, and went on with his story : '' Oscar and I, then — were going over to the pond this forenoon, and I guess it will be warm enough for us to go into water. Should n't you think it would ?" "No, indeed," replied Mr. Preston, "you mustn't think of such a thing. It's only the first of June, and you ought not to go into water for two or three weeks yet. Besides, Oscar 's an invalid, and I should n't like to have him go in, even if it was warm enough for you. I would n't walk about much, either, at first,'' he continued, addressing Oscar. " You 're weak, and must look out, and not overdo yourself. This afternoon, when the horse is at leisure, Jerry shall give you a ride ; so you had better not go far this forenoon." The river of which Jerry spoke is a small stream that has its source in the lake Oscar saw from the chamber window. It flows in a south-westerly direction, cross- ing the road on which Mr. Preston lived, not far from his house. A small bridge is thrown over the river at this point. After breakfast, Jerry and Oscar walked 18* 210 ' WALKING AND RIDING. down to this bridge, and then, leaving* the road, fol- lowed the river through the fields and woods, to its fountain-head. Here they found a beautiful sheet of water, more than half a mile across, in one direction, with an irregular shore, fringed most of the way with woods. A two-masted sail-boat was riding at anchor, a little oflF from the shore, w^hich Oscar regarded with wishful eye ; but as it did not belong to Mr. Preston, and they could not reach it without going into the water, it was of no use to think of taking a sail. They now walked along the edge of the pond, some distance, and after wandering some time in the woods, they re- turned home by a circuitous route. The annexed map of Brookdale will show the loca- tion of the pond, river, &c. Jerry lived in the house numbered 2. Oscar and Jerry spent the rest of the forenoon in the barn and wood-shed, and in the fields immediately around the house. After dinner, Mr. Preston told the boys they could have the horse and wagon^ and as the family wanted some groceries, they might ride over to the store and get them. They accordingly tackled up the team, and were soon on their way. MAP OF BROOKDALE 211 The store at which Mr. Preston traded was at the village where the stage left Oscar, which goes by tlie name of the " Cross-Roads," from the fact that two of the principal thoroughfares of that section of country cross at this point. Though this store was about five miles distant, there was no other one nearer to Mr. Preston's. The boys had a fine ride over to the vil- lage. Oscar drove, and was quite anxious to put Billy to a test of his speed ; but as his uncle told them not to hurry, because the horse had been worked some in 212 THE VILLAGE STOBiS. the forenoon, lie did not dare to make any experiment of this kind. Jerry assured him, however, that he once drove Billy over to the Cross-Roads in just twenty minutes, which w^as the quickest time he had ever been known to make. He thought this a remarkable feat ; but Oscar did not seem much astonished at it, and said he knew of horses that could go a mile in three min- utes, and even in less time if the road was smooth and level. After riding about three-quarters of an hour, they arrived at the Cross-Roads, and drove up to a post and chain for tying horses in front of the store. The store W£i& kept in a large wooden building. Over the door ^vas the sign, " J. Fletcher, Variety Store ;" and the shutters were covered with columns of names of articles sold within, such as " Bacon," " Cheese," " Flour," " Grain," " Shoes," " Dry Goods," ^c. Another sign in one of the windows indicated that this was also the post-office of the village. The boys went into the store, and while Jerry was ordering the articles his mother had sent for, Oscar im- proved the opportunity to look around the premises. It was to him a queer assortment of goods. There A QUEER MEDLEY. 213 seemed to be a little of everything for sale. Here you could buy of one salesman articles that you could obtain in Boston only by visiting a dozen different shops. Groceries and dry goods, country produce and hard- ware, boots, shoes, and hats, confectionary and fancy articles, stoves and children's toys, were in most neigh- borly companionship. Before leaving the store, Oscar invested a few cents in candy and cigars ; for his father had given him a little spare change beyond what was necessary to defray the expenses of the journey. He shared the candy with Jerry, and put the cigars in his pocket for future use. Jerry having finished his business at the store, they set out on their return, and arrived home in safety and without meeting with any remarkable adventure. The boys employed themselves the rest of the afternoon in planning excursions- and amusements, and before they got through, they had laid out " fun" enough to occupy them for several days. The evenings were now quite short, and as it was the custom to retire to bed early at Mr. Preston's, it fre- quently happened that no lamps were lit in the house for several days in succession. As twilight came on 214 DREAMING. that evening, Oscar, who began to feel pretty tired, laid down upon the sofa in the sitting-room, and in a few minutes was fast asleep. Jerry got a straw, and was about to tickle his ear, when his mother stopped him. Oscar's nap, however, was a short one, and suddenly waking up, he began to laugh. " I guess you had a pleasant dream," said his aunt. " I had a real funny one," replied Oscar. " I thought you sent me over to the store to get some things, and when I got there, I had them all jumbled together in my head, and I told the man I wanted a yard of mo- lasses, and a pound of calico, and a gallon of shingle- nails, and I did n't know what else. And I thought the man laughed, and asked me if I would take them loose, or have them done up in a rag. Then another boy that was in the store set up a loud laugh, and that woke me up. I wonder how long I slept — do you know, aunt ?" " Only two or three minutes," replied Mrs. Preston. " I was real smart, then," replied Oscar ; " for you gave me my errand, and I harnessed the horse and drove away over to the Cross- Roads, and went through the scene in the store, and woke up again, all in two or three minutes. I thought I 'd been asleep half an hour." BABIES. 215 " I should think you 'd dream about the store," said Jerry ; " you 've made fun enough about it, if that 's all." " Well, I'll leave it to aunt if it is n't odd to see such a queer lot of stuff in one store. I 've heard about country stores, but I never saw one that would come up to that before. It is almost equal to going into a fair, to go in there. There was everything you could think of, from a grindstone to a pop-gun." " There is n't business enough to support more than one trader, and that is the reason why Mr. Fletcher keeps such a variety," said Mrs. Preston. " I know that," said Oscar, " and I suppose the folks are glad to have him keep all sorts of knick-knacks ; but it seems queer to me, to see groceries and dry goods, and everything else, in the same shop." " Did you see any babies there ?" inquired little Mary, who was amusing herself by walking around the room backwards. " What sort of babies — live ones, or rag ones, or wax ones?" inquired Oscar. "jSTo, none of them," replied Mary; "I mean crying babies, like Annie Davenport's." 216 FALL. " 0, you moan those little dolls that make a squeak- ing noise when you squeeze them. No, I believe I did n't see any," said Oscar. " IS'o, Mr. Fletcher would n't keep such silly things as them," said Jerry, who was very fond of teasing his sisters. "No, they aint silly, either, are they cousin Oscar?" said Mary. " No," replied Oscar, " seeing it 's you, they aint silly/' Mary was continuing her backward walk around the room, and was just at that moment passing before Jerry, when he suddenly put out his foot, and stum- bling over it, she fell heavily upon the floor, striking her head against a corner of the sofa. A loud scream immediately followed this mishap, and as the author of it hastened to raise up his sister, he was himself a little frightened ; but seeing no blood flowing from her head, he concluded she was " more scared than hurt," and tried to turn the afiair into a joke, saying : " There, sis, you 're a little crying baby yourself, now. Come, stop your noise ; you 've blubbered enough about it. It did n't hurt you, did it ?" SENT TO BED. 217 "Come here, dear, what is the matter ?" said Mrs, Preston, who had left the room a moment before, and hurried back on hearing Mary scream. " Jerry knocked me over," said Mary, sobbing bit- terly, as her mother lifted her up into her lap. "Where did it hurt you, dear ?— there ? Well, let mother rub it, and it will feel better soon. Jerry is a naughty boy to do so. Why need you torment your little sister so ?" Mrs. Preston added, turning to Jerry. Mr. Preston, who had been sitting upon the door- step, smoking his pipe, as was his custom in the even- ing, came in, on hearing the uproar; and having ascer- tained what the trouble was, he boxed Jerry's ears pretty severely, and sent him oif to bed. Oscar soon followed him; but Jerry was so mortified at the rough handling he had received, that he scarcely spoke again that night. 19 I CHAPTER XVI. IN THE WOODS. TT was soon evident that the air of Brookclale agreed with Oscar. He was fast gaining his strength, and the increased fuhiess and color of his countenance be- tokened returning health. No part of this improve- ment was to be attributed to the bottle of cough drops his mother packed away in the bottom of his valise, and charged him to take every morning and night ; for the drops were not very palatable, and he had not opened the bottle since he left 'home. In fact, he had by this time quite forgotten both the medicine and his mother's injunction. So rapid was the improvement in Oscar's health, that two or three days after his trip to the Cross- Roads, Mr. Preston gave his consent to an excursion he and Jerry had planned, which was to occupy a whole day. "Old Staple's Hut," as it was called, THE GUN. 219 was tlie place thej proposed to visit. It was about four miles distant, beyond the bills in the north-east part of the town, represented in the upper corner of the map of Brookdale. They were to carry their din- ner, and Mrs. Preston accordingly filled a smaH basket with eatables. While she was doing this, Jerry took Oscar aside and said : "There is one thing more we want, and that is fa- ther's gun. I know he won't let me have it, but I guess he would lend it to you, if you should ask him." " Yes, we must have a gun," replied Oscar ; " and I should just as lief ask him for it as not." Oscar hunted up his uncle, and made known his re- quest. Mr. Preston hesitated a moment, and then in- quired : " Does your father allow you to use a gun at home ?" " He never says- anything about it, either way," re- plied Oscar. " Well, I guess you had better not take the gun," said Mr. Preston. " I 'm afraid you might get hurt,— that 's all I care about. I don't allow Jerry to use fire- arms, and I should n't like to put anything of the kind into your hands witi^:^.out your father's consent." 220 THE EXCURSION. " But I 'II be very cai-eful if you '11 let me have it," added Oscar. " I 've fiied a gun several times, and know how to handle it." " No, I think you had better not carry the gun wii' you," replied his uncle. "If you used it, Jerry woul think he must, and I know he is too careless' to I trusted with it. He 'd shoot you, just as like as not, i he did n't kill himself." Mr. Preston's tone was so decided, that Oscar saw i would be useless to say anything more about the gun, and so he and Jerry were obliged to abandon the idea of taking it with them. Taking their basket of pro- visions, they accordingly set out on their long tramp. Leaving the road, and turning into a footpath through the fields, they passed close by the upper edge of the pond. In this part of their walk there was a good deal of swamp land, and a number of brooks to cross. Some- times they had to pick their way along upon stones which had been placed at regular intervals in wet places, or upon old logs that served for bridges ; and at times it required no little skill in balancing to avoid getting a wet foot. After they had got beyond the pond, however, the land gradually ascended, and was THE BROOKS. 221 mostly occupied as pastures for cattle. But tliey still occasionally came to a brook, flowing down from the hills towards the pond. Most of them were so narrow, they could easily jump over them ; but in one instance they were obliged to take off their shoes and stockings and w^ade across. " ISTow you see why this place is called Brookdale," said Jerry, after they had passed four or five of these little streams. "Is that the reason, because there are so many brooks ? I never thought of that before," said Oscar. "Yes, that's it," replied Jerry. "In the spring these brooks make quite a show ; but they get low in the summer, and generally dry up in August, unless it 's a very wet season." " I 'm going to cut me a cane," said Oscar, taking out his knife ; " I see a real straight and handsome one in there," and he pointed to a thicket they were ap- proaching. " That 's nothing but birch — that won't make a good cane," replied Jerry ; " stop a minute, and I '11 find you something better." After looking about a little, Jerry found some 19* 222 MAKING CANES. beeches, which he said would make good canes." They accordingly cut two of the straightest and handsomest. " I mean to try an experiment with mine," said Os- car, " and see if I can't crook the top of it. Do you know how they do it, Jerry ?" "No, I always thought they grew in that shape," re- plied Jerry. " A man told me they boiled the end of the stick and then bent it," said Oscar. " He said that was the way all the hooked canes were made. I don't know whether he knew or not, but I mean to try it some day, and see how it works." " I don't believe in that," said Jerry. " It is n't very likely you can bend such a stick as that without break- ing it ; just see how stiff it is." "I don't care, I'll try it, just to satisfy myself," re- plied Oscar. Oscar w^as right in regard to bending Avood. The hooked-top walking-sticks are made in the way he de- scribed, — by boiling the end, and then bending it into an arch. In boiling wood, several substances which enter into its composition are dissolved, and others are softened, so that it is rendered flexible. THE CIGARS. 223 The boys trudged slowly on their way, now aided by their canes, which, in a long walk, are of no slight service to the pedestrian. As they sauntered along, chatting, singing, and whistling, as merrily as the birds around them, Oscar remembered the cigars he bought at the store, and soon the pure atmosphere of the fields was polluted with the vile odor of bad tobacco. Oscar had been in the habit of smoking occasionally for some time ; but though he considered it a manly accomplish- ment, he was very careful not to let his parents know that he was addicted to it. He prevailed upon his cousin to take a cigar ; but Jeriy was not very partial to tobacco, and a few whifls satisfied him for that occa- sion. They had now reached the foot of the long, steep hills, over which they must climb. These hills were thickly wooded most of the way, forming beautiful groves, cool, dark, fragrant with resinous odors, and softly carpeted with moss and decayed leaves. Oscar and Jeny concluded to rest a few minutes before scal- ing the hills. Selecting a favorable spot, they stretched themselves at full length upon the ground, and looked up towards the distant tree-tops. It was a pine forest, 234 THE ROBIN. and the trees were as straight as an arrow, and so tall that their tops almost seemed among the clouds. The moaning of the wind among the topmost branches sounded like the distant roar of the sea. Birds were skipping merrily among the " tasselled boughs," and cu- riously eying the young strangers who had invaded their solitude. ' " 0, how I wish I had that gun now !" said Oscar, as a fine plump robin lit on one of the lower branches of a tree right over his head. In repay for this generous wish, Signor Robin execut- ed one of his choicest songs in his handsomest style, and, without waiting for an encore from his audience, darted off and was quickly out of sight. But it is probable the audience thought more of the " good shot" he presented, than of the sweet strains he poured forth for their entertainment. "There's better game than that in these woods," said Jerry, after the robin had taken his departure. " Is there anything besides birds ?" inquired Oscar. " Y^," replied Jerry, " there are rabbits, and wood- chucks, and weasels, and skunks, and squirrels ; and some folks say there are wild-cats here, but I don't WILD ANIMALS. 225 know about that. Jim Oakley, a fellow who lives about a mile from our house, comes over here gunning very often ; and he says he saw a real savage-looking creature here, a few weeks ago, that he took to be a wild-cat. He fired at it, but it got clear of him. He says it looked a good deal like a cat, only it was larger, and had a httle short tail. I wish he 'd killed it. I should like to know what it was. I never saw a wild-cat ; did you ?" "No," replied Oscar. " But that was n't equal to something a man came across in the woods the other side of these hills, two o? three years ago," continued Jerry. "What do you suppose it was?" " I don't know ; was it a moose ?" inquired Oscar. " No," replied Jerry ; " moose come down into this neighborhood, once -in awhile, but that was n't what I was going to tell you about. There is a road through these woods, a httle beyond the hills. It is n't trav- elled much, except by the loggers in the fall and spring. A man was riding along this road, one after- noon in summer, when he suddenly came across a monstrous black bear. As soon as the bear saw him. 226 MEETING A BEAR. he squat down on his haunches, right in the middle of the road, and began to show his teeth. The man did n't dare to drive by him, and his horse was so frightened that it was as much as he could do to hold him in. He had a loaded revolver with him, but he knew there was n't much hope of killing the bear with that. So he turned his horse about, and concluded to go back to the nearest house, and get a gun and some- body to help him kill the bear. The bear sat still, watching him, as much as to say, ' If you 'II let me alone, I '11 let you alone ;' but just as the man was starting up, he thought he would try his pistol, and so he blazed away at the bear. Two or three of the shot hit the bear in the shoulder. They did n't hurt him much, only enough to rouse his dander ; but he sprang up as quick as lightning, and started after the team. The man whipped up his horse, and the bear ' pulled foot' after him, and did, n't give up the race till he had run about a quarter of a mile. The man said if he had been afoot, the bear would have beat him at run- ning, but he could n't keep up with the horse. " Well, the man went back three or four miles, and ^ot another man to go with him in search of the bear. WHERE HE CAME FROM. 227 They armed themselv^es with guns and hunting-knives ; but when they drove back to where the man met the bear, they could n't find anything of him. They traced his tracks into the woods, but after awhile they lost them, and as it was getting late, they gave up the hunt ; and nobody hereabouts has seen that bear from that day to this." " Perhaps he's about here now — who knows ?" said Oscar. " No, I guess he went right back to the place he came from," replied Jerry. " Somebody would have seen him, if he 'd stayed around here." " Where do you suppose he came from ?" inquired Oscar. " From way back in the woods, fifty miles from here," replied Jerry. " There had been great fires in the woods that summer, -and I suppose he got burned out, or frightened, and that was the reason he came down this way." " I should like to meet such a customer," said Oscar ; " only I should want to have a good double-barielled gun with me. I read in a newspaper, the other day, about a boy up in New Hampshire, who met a bear ^ 228 PROSPECT ROCK. and two cubs, all alone in the woods. He had a gun with him, and killed the old one, and one of the cubs ; but the other cub got off. That was doifig pretty well, was n't it ?" " 'Twas'so," said Jerry ; " but I guess you would n't have done quite so well as that." " I bet I should have tried, at any rate," said Oscar, who really was not deficient in courage, though he had hardly practiced hunting enough to justify him in be- lieving that be could master so savage an animal as a bear. Having rested themselves, the boys resumed their journey, and after ten minutes' hard work, reached the top of the range of hills. The highest summit was a bare ledge of rock, and they concluded to climb to the top of it, for the sake of the view to be obtained. It was called •' Prospect Eock," and was very appropriately named. As the hojs stood upon it, the country for miles around was spread out at their feet, — houses, and cultivated fields, and forests, and roads, and narrow streams. A distant mountain was visible in the west, which Jeriy^ said was about twenty miles off, though it seemed much nearer. After enjoying the scene a few THE WOODCHUCk's HOLE. 229 minutes, they began to descend tlie bill on tbe other side. They kept their eyes open, for game, but they saw only a few squirrels, and one rabbit, which bounded off, and was out of sight in a moment. Jerry pointed out to Oscar a woodchuck's hole, near the foot of the hilL " I should like to see a woodchuck," said Oscar ; " what do they look like ?" " They 're about as big as a rabbit, and are of a brownish color," replied Jerry. "Do you suppose there's one in that hole?" inquired Oscar ; " let's see if we can't scare him out." " I don't know whether there is or not," replied Jerry ; " but if there was, we could n't dig him out without shovels. They burrow real deep. If we had brought a dog with us, how he would dig into that hole !" " I wish I had my Tiger here," said Oscar ; " it 's too bad father would n't let me bring him with me." Oscar thrust his cane into the hole, but did not reach the end of it; and if the occupant of the tenement was within, he did not think it worth while to show himself. The boys accordingly renewed their journey. 20 230 THE HUT. After tliey had reacbed the foot of the Iiill, tliej nad to cross a swamp. With its wet and miry bottom, and its dense growth of vines, bushes, and small trees, this was no easy matter ; but they succeeded in gettting through with no damage save wet feet, a few slight scratches, and a good many mosquito bites. This lat- ter trouble was the most serious of all. The mosquitoes were large and ferocious. They bit right through jacket, vest, and all, and Oscar declared that their sharp stings even penetrated his boots. After the boys emerged fi'om the swamp, they came to the road in which the man met a bear. They fol- lowed this road a short distance, till it brought them to the shore of a large and beautiful pond. Leaving the highway, they now \yalked along by the edge of the water, and soon came to the old hut they were in pur- suit of. It was but a few rods from the pond, and was directly under the brow of a steep and rocky hill. It had a very old and decayed appearance. The roof had fallen in, the door had disappeared, and the single win- dow was without sash or glass. It contained but one apartment, and that waS very small, and so choked up with rubbish that the boys did not try to enter. THE HERMIT. 231 " Well, that must have been a great place for a man to live in," said Oscar, after he had inspected the prem- ises. " How long has the old fellow been dead ?" " I don't know," said Jerry ; " it must be fifteen years, for he died before I was born." " I wonder what he lived here for ; does anybody know ?" inquired Oscar. "No, he was a hermit, and that's all anybody knows about him. They say he used to have a garden, and raised everything he wanted to eat. In the summer time he used to work a good deal for two or three farmers that lived over at Cedar Hill, at the further end of the pond. He had a little skiff, and rowed back and forth in that. He never used to spend any money, and people say he must have had all of a thousand dollars, that he had earned, when he died ; but nobody knew *what became of it. They suppose he buried it about here somewhere, or hid it in some rock." " A thousand dollars !" said Oscar ; " I 'm going to hunt for that ; what will you bet I won't find it ?" " Pooh !" replied Jerry, " people have searched all round here, and dug holes, and pulled up the floor of 232 THE FIRE. the hut, more than a hundred times ; and I guesa there's no danger of your finding the money now." " I 'm going to try, at any rate," said Oscar, and he got up from the stone upon which he was seated. " Stop, don't go now," said Jerry ; '" let's make a fire nd get dinner first — I 'm ju§t about half starved." Oscar fell in with this suggestion, and they gathered together a lot of brush and other dry wood, and soon had a good fire kindled against a large stone, which happened to be hollowed out something like a fire- place. Among the provisions they had brought with them were half a dozen potatoes, which they buried in the embers after the fire had got well under way. While these were baking, they employed themselves in gathering wood and watching the fire. They also found some slices of cheese in their basket, which they toasted by holding it before the fire upon the point of a sharp stick. When their preparations for dinner were about completed, Oscar inquired : "Where shall we find some water to drink? Is there a spring about here ?" " Water, why, there 's plenty of it," replied Jerry pointing to the pond. DINNER IN THE WOOD 233 *'Wliat! you don't mean to drink pond water, do you ?" said Oscar, somewhat surprised. " Yes I do," replied Jerry ; " that 's good water — old Staples drank it all the time he lived here." " Well, come to think of it, I suppose it is good," said Oscar ; " for our Cochituate water, in Boston, is nothing but pond water. It seems queer, though, to dip it right out of the pond ; but I suppose it is just as good as though we drew it from an aqueduct." 20* 234 DINNER. There was a tin dipper in the basket, and Oscar took it, and went down to the pond, to try tlie water. He ' found it clear, and agi-eeable to the taste, though not very cold. Filling the dipper, he returned to the fire, where Jerry now had the dinner in readiness. They found a large flat stone, which answered for a table, and spreading their provisions upon it, they threw themselves upon the grass, and began to eat. The potatoes were nicely roasted, and, indeed, all the ar- ticles that helped to form their rural repast, tasted un- commonly Vt'ell. Even the pond water, Oscar con- fessed, would have been equal to the Cochituate, if they had only had a little ice to put in it. After dinner, Oscar commenced his search for the hidden treasures, and Jerry, impelled by sympathy, joined in the hunt, though with no very sanguine expectations of finding the hermit's gold. They ex- amined the hut, and poked over the rubbish, within and about it. They walked over the ground, around the cabin, turning over stones, looking after holes in the trunks of trees, and peering curiously into every crack and crevice they could find. They then climbed up the rocks behind the hut, and patiently continued HUNTING FOR GOLD. 235 their search, talking earnestly, the meanwhile, about what they should do with the money, if they found it. Oscar said if he found the money, he should buy the best horse he could find. He should not go to school any more, but should spend his time in riding, and going to places of amusement. If his father did not like it, he should leave home, and board at a hotel. Jerry, on the other hand, wanted to see the world. If he found the money, he was going to travel 'all over the country. After visiting the great Atlantic cities, he should go to California, and stop a few months, just long enough to dig a few thousand dollars out of the mines — and then he should push^ on to China, and India, and Europe, and come home in one of the Col- lins steamers. It was finally agreed, however, that if either of them found the treasure, it should be equally divided between them, and with this friendly under- standing, they renewed their search, with fresh zeal. " It 's real hot ; what do you say about going into water ?" inquired Oscar, after they had ransacked the neighborhood pretty thoroughly, and worked them- selves into a perspiration. *' I '11 go in if you will," said Jerry. " Father did n't 236 BATHING. tell us not to go in to-day — I was afraid he would ; but he did n't say anything about it." " He need n't know it, if we do go in," suggested Oscar, who knew very well that his uncle would not approve of his bathing so early in the season, and so soon after his sickness. "No, he won't know anything about it," added Jerry ; " and I don't believe it can do us any hurt, for it is as warm as it is in the middle of summer. I 've been into water many a time, when it was colder than it is now." They did not debate the question long, but throwing off their clothes, they soon plunged into the clear lake. The water did not feel quite so warm to their bodies, as it tasted when they washed down their dinner with it. Still, it was not very cold ; and as the place was quite convenient for bathing, having a hard, gravelly bottom, with a gradual slope, they enjoyed their dip in the water as well as they could enjoy a forbidden gratification. After they had dressed themselves, they sat a little while with their caps off, that the warm sun might dry their hair, and thus remove all evidence of their stolen GOING HOME. 237 pleasure. This accomplished, they con^uded, fiom the position of the sun, that it was time to start for home^ and taking their basket and canes, they commenced their homeward march. They met with no incident of any moment in returning, except that they got off their course at one time ; but Jerry, who was quite at home in the woods, soon found where he was, and set himself right again. The last two miles of their jaunt were the hardest of all, especially to Oscar, who was more troubled with sore feet and stiff legs than Jerry. They were both, however, as tired and hungry as need be, when they got home. No questions were asked about their going into water. This was fortunate, for it probably saved them from the additional guilt of fjilsehood. They expe- rienced no punishment for their disobedience, except the consciousness that they had committed a wrong act. To some boys, that alone would have been no slight punishment ; but I fear this was not the case with Oscar and Jeny. CHAPTER XVII. CLINTON. " /^OME, Jerry, let 's go over to Clinton's this fore- non," said Oscar, the morning after their excur- sion to the hermit's hut . *' Agreed," replied Jerry, " we '11 start right away as soon as I can find my cap. Let me see — where did I leave it, T wonder ?" " Jerry," said Mrs. Preston, who overheard this con- versation, "bring me in an armfull of wood before you go." " I '11 get the wood while you 're looking for your cap," said Oscar, and he started for the wood-house. Oscar almost repented of his offer when he discover ed that there was no wood split. However, he took the axe and split a few logs, and carried them into the kitchen. Jerry had not yet found his cap, though ho THE LOST CAP. 239 had searched all over the house for it. He began to suspect some one had played a trick upon him by hid- ing his cap, and when Emily laughed at his impatience, he concluded she was the guilty one. In vain she pro- tested that she had not seen the missing cap, and did not know where it was. He searched every part of the girls' chamber, and then, in his vexation, he pulled Emily's bonnet from off her head, and tossed it out of the tv'indow into an apple-tree, in the branches of which it lodged. It was now Emily's turn to fly into a pet, and she availed herself of the opportunity. Running to her mother, she reported what Jerry had done, setting off his foolish conduct in the worst possible light. Jerry soon made his appearance in the kitchen, and retorted upon his sister by charging her with having hid his cap. Mrs. Preston tried to settle the difficulty by di- recting Jerry to get Emily's bonnet out of the tree, and ordering Emily to tell Jerry where his cap was, if she knew; but Emily protested she knew nothing about the cap, and her brother did not seem inclined to obey his portion of the decree, while his sister failed to com- ply with hers. The quarrel was thus becoming mora 240 BUTTERMILK. and more complicated, when Oscar suddenly entered the room with the lost cap in his hand. " Here*s your cap, Jerry," he said ; " I found it just where you left it last night, out in the barn. Don't you remember, you threw it at the cat to scare her ?" " O yes, so I did, and I forgot to pick it up again," said Jerry. " There, do you believe me now V said Emily, with an air of triumph. Jerry ,did not stop to reply ; but, going into the gar- den, he climbed the apple-ti-ee, and tossed the bonnet down to Emily. " Now I 'm- ready to start, just as soon as I 've had a drink of buttermilk," said Jerry to Oscar ; " come into the buttery and get some, won't you ?" There was only one bowl-full of buttermilk left from the morning's churning, but Mrs. Preston told the boys they might have that. Jerry proposed that they should "go snacks," and gave the bowl to Oscar that he mig-^lit drink his share first. The latter took one mouthful, but quickly spit it out, and puckered his face into all sorts of shapes. " Ugh !" he exclaimed, " you don't call that sour stuff THE HENS. 241 good, do you ?" and he handed the bowl back to Jeny, with a look that would have soured the buttermilk, if it had not already undergone that process. • As soon as Jerry could get over laughing at his cou- sin's grimaces, he swallowed the contents of the bowl, and then, smacking his lips, said : " There, don't you think I like it ? You just drink it a few times, and then see if you don't hke it, too. I could drink a quart of it now if I had it." " You may have it, for all me ; I don't want any more of it," replied Oscar. "Jerry, have the hens been attended to?" inquired Mrs. Preston, as the boys were about/starting from home. " I don't know — I have n't fed them," replied Jerry. " You ought to know whether they are seen to or not ; it 's your business to take care of them," said his mother. " Don't you go off this morning till you have fed them. You ouo-ht to have done it an hour Tio-o." The care of the fowls had been committed to Jerry, but he did not feel much interest in them, and needed to be reminded of his duty pretty often. His negli- gence had been more marked than ever since Oscar's ar- 21 242 A MYSTERIOUS LETTER. rival, and more than once the hens had been without food and water nearly a whole day because he forgot to attend to them. Jeriy now went back, in obedience to his mother, and gave the fowls their nsual allowance of corn, and a vessel of fresh water. He also looked into the nests to see if there were any new-laid eggs ; and he was not a little surprised to find in one of them a small billet, neatly folded up, and addressed, " To Mas- ter Jerry y He looked at it a moment, and tried to imagine what it could be ; then he opened it, and read the following, Avhich was neatly written with a pencil : "The Henroost, June 12th. " Master Jerry : " I have determined to write you a few words in behalf of my dear suffei-ing family. Tlie sun is scorching hot, and yet Ave have not got a drop of water to save us from parching up. My poor biddies have been walking back and forth all day, panting for water, and calling for it as plainly as they could speak ; but all in vain. We have received our food at very irregu- lar times, too, and sometimes we have had to keep fiist nearly all day. If I were the only sufferer, I would say nothing about it ; but I cannot bear to see my poor flock dying by inches in this way. Do take pity on us, and see that we have plenty of corn and water hereafter. Some of my family, who pride themselves THE rooster's complaint. 243 on being good layers, complain that since you have kept us shut up in such narrow quarters they cannot find anything to make their egg-shells of. Now, if you would give us some old burnt bones, pounded up fine, or a little lime, once in awhile, I do not think you would lose anything by it. And as you will not let us go out to scratch for ourselves, what is the reason tha you cannot dig us a few worms occasionally ? It would be a great treat to us. I hope you will heed my sug- gestions. If you do not, I can assure you of two things : you won't have many eggs this summer ; and fat chick- ens will be a scarce article in this neighborhood next Thanksgiving time. But Mrs. Yellowneck has just laid an egg, and I must help her cackle over it ; so I will write nothing more at present, but sign myself " Your faithful, but afflicted, " Shanghae Rooster." Before Jerry had finished reading this mysterious letter, Oscar, who wondered at his long absence, went to see what the matter was, and found his cousin deep- ly absorbed in the document. After Jerry had read it, he handed it to Oscar, telling him where he found it. " Well, that is queer," said Oscar, after he had rea it. " Who do you suppose wrote it ?" "I know where it carae from well enough," said Jerry • *' keep dark — don't say anything about it," he 244 CLINTON. ' added, as he put the letter in his pocket. Then step- ping to the kitchen-window, he inquired, " Mother, was Clinton over here yesterday ?" " I believe he was," replied Mrs. Preston. " That accounts for it," said Jerry to Oscar ; '' that etter sounds just like Clinton. I knew he wrote it just as soon as I saw it." " But can he Aviite as well as that ?" inquired Oscar. " Yes, he 's a very good writer," replied Jerry. "He ought to be, for he has to get a lesson every day, just as though he went to school, and recite to his mother in the evening. I wish I knew as much as he does, but I should n't want to study so hard." They had now started on their way to Clinton's. The Shanghae letter continued to be the topic of re- mark for some time. It was finally concluded that they should say nothing to Clinton about it. To tell the truth, Jeny felt a little mortified at the deserved rebuke he had received, and he thought the easiest way to get over it would be, to pretend that the letter had never reached its destination. Clinton Davenport, the suspected author of this letter, lived in the nearest house to Mr. Preston's. The house HIS HOME. 245 is marked 1, on the map of Brookdale. He was three or four months younger than Jerry, and, like him, was an only son. They had been intimate playmates from early childhood, though their tastes and dispositions were very different. Clinton was an industrious boy. He liked to work, and took an inteiest in all his father's plans and labors. He was an ingenious boy, too; and, in addition to his other commendable traits, he was a good scholar. Oscar had seen Clinton once or twice, at Jerry's house, but this was his first visit to him. They soon came in the sight of the house. It was a neat, but plain cottag;^, situated near the foot of a hill. There were several noble oaks around it, and many fruit trees in the rear. Luxuriant vines were trained around and over the front door. A large and substan- tial barn stood a little one side, and back from the road, with its great doors swung open. On a tall pole, be- hind the house, there was a complete miniature of the cottage, which appeared to be occupied by a family of birds, who were constantly flying back and forth. This pretty birdhouse Clinton had made with his own hands the previous winter. 21* 246 CATERPILLARS. When Oscar and Jerry reached the house, they saw Clinton doing something in the orchard, behind the buildings, and they walked along towards him. They found him employed in destroying caterpillars' nests, in the apple-trees. He had a light ladder, with which he ascended the trees ; and having his hands protected by a pair of old gloves, he swept down the nests, and destroyed the young caterpillars by the hundred. " This is n't very pleasant work," said Clinton, " but it has got to be done. I've been all over the orchard this morning, and this is the last tree I 've got to ex- amine. I shall be done in a few minutes, and then I'll walk around with you." " I should like to know where all these caterpillars come from," said Oscar ; " do they come up from the ground ?" "No,'' replied Clinton. "A miller lays the eggs, the summer before, on a branch of the tree, and there they -stay till about the first of June ; then they hatch out, and build their nest. The nests look something like tents, don't you see they do ?" " Yes, so they do," said Oscar. " That 's the reason they are called tent-caterpillars. .^■■ 1* LITTLE TURKEYS. 247 There are three or four hundred of them iu every nest. In about a month from now, they would all turn into millers, if nobody disturbed them, and lay millions of eggs for next year's crop." " That 's curious — I 've learnt something new by coming here," said Oscar. " There, I beheve that 's all," said Clinton, as he cast his eye over the tree ; " now come and see my turkeys." Jerry slyly winked at Oscar, and both thought of the Shanghae rooster's letter; but they said nothing, and followed Clinton to a tree near the barn, where there was a large, motherly hen, surrounded by her happy brood. They were young turkeys, but it was all the same to the poor simple hen. She had set four weeks upon the eggs from which they were hatched, and no wonder she honestly believed they were her own children. To confess the truth, they did look so much like chickens, that a city boy like Oscar would hardly have suspected they were turkeys, if he had not been told that they were. They were black, and of about the size of chickens of their age. They had also the sharp, piping cry of genuine chickens. But their necks 248 THE CHICKENS. were a little longer than usual, and that was almost the only badge of their turkey hood. The hen was confined to the tree by a string, to prevent her roving off. A barrel turned upon its side, served them for a house at night. There was another hen, confined under a tree near by, which was the proud mother of a large brood of chickens. There were about twenty-five of them, but though they now constituted one brood, they were hatched by two hens. Clinton said he usually managed to set two hens together, so that one of them might bring up all the chickens, thereby saving some trouble for himself, as well as one hen's time, which was of some value to him. Hens do not seem to have much knowledge of arithmetic, and biddy was apparently un- conscious of any difference between twelve and five-and- twenty. A loud and prolonged " Cock-a-doodle-do-o-o-o" now attracted Oscar to the hen-yard near by, behind the barn, where the rest of Clinton's poultry were confined. It was a large enclosure, connected with a shed, in which the fowls roosted and laid their eggs. Its occupants, and indeed all the poultry on the place were the ex- 4 MAKING MONEY. 249 elusive property of Clinton, and he took the entire man- agement of them in his own hands. He raised the corn they consumed on a patch of ground his father gave him for the purpose. He sold his eggs, chickens, and turkeys to whom he pleased, and kept a regular account in a book of all his business transactions. Of course, all the money he made was his own, and he told Oscar he had nearly seventy-five dollars in the bank, which he had earned in this way. " I don't see how you do it," said Jerry ; " I could n't make anything that way if I should try. I don't be- lieve our hens more than pay their way, if they do that." " If you should manage as I do, I guess you would make something," replied Clinton. *' 1*^0, it is n't my luck," said Jerry ; " if I worked ever so hard, I should n't be any better off for it." '" I don't believe that," said Clinton ; " there 's no luck about it. Any boy could make out just as well as I have done, if he took the same trouble. You try it, now, and see." " No, I shan't try, for I know just as well as I want to, how it would turn out," rephed Jerry. 250 THE BARN. "How can you know if you never tried it?" inquired Clinton. Jerry did not answer this question, and perhaps he could not. He preferred to comfort himself with the foolish plea of the lazy, that he was not one of " the lucky ones," and it was useless for him to think of suc- ceeding in anything of that kind. Clinton did not make the most distant allusion to the Shanghae Rooster's letter, although Jerry felt sure that he knew all about it. The latter also avoided all reference to it. Oscar could hardly keep from intro- ducing the matter, but his cousin's injunction to "keep dark" prevailed, and he was able to restrain his impa- tient tongue. The boys now took a look at the piggery, where they found several fat, dignified grunters, together with a family of little squealers, who seemed quite too clean and delicate to occupy such an enclosure. They then went all over the great barn, which happened to be tenantless, the cows being at pasture and the oxen an horse off at work. Oscar's attention was attracted to a scrap cut from a newspaper, which was pasted upon one of the posts of the horse's stall. It read as follows : little annie. 251 "the horse's prayer. " Up hill, spare thou me ; Down hill, take care of thee ; On level ground, spare me not, Nor give me water when I 'm hot." Clinton said he found these lines in a newspaper about the time lie began to drive alone, and he stuck them up upon the stall that he might not forget them. " Hallo, who is this ?" inquired Oscar, as a little curly-haired girl of six years came tripping into the barn. The little girl to whom the inquiry was addressed turned a shy and roguish look towards the strange boy, and then edged along to Clinton, and nestled her little hand in his. "Can't you tell him who you are?" inquired Clinton. " He came all the way from Boston, where cousin Ettie and cousin Willie live. He 's Jerry's cousin, and little Mary Preston's cousin. Now you '11 tell him what your name is, won't you ?" "Annie Davenport — that's my name," she replied, in her artless, winning way. " Then you 're Clinton's sister, are you ?" inquired Oscar. 252 WHISTLER. " Yes, and he 's my brother," she quickly added, with a proud look that greatly amused the boys. " Did you say you have a cousin Willie in Boston, Clinton ?" continued Oscar. " Yes, Willie Davenport," replied Clinton. " I know him — he 's about your size, is n't he ? and his father is a lawyer ?" " Yes, that 's him — why, I want to know if you know him ?" "0 yes; he goes to our school. The boys have nicknamed him Whistler, because he whistles so much ; but he 's a real clever fellow, for all that. My brother Ralph is quite intimate with him. It 's strange that I never knew before that he had relations down here," added Oscar. " Do you know his sister, Ettie ?" inquired Clinton. "No, I never saw^ her," replied Oscar. " Come into the house with me, — I must tell mother we Ve heard from Boston," said Clinton. They all entered the house, and Mrs. Davenport w^as soon informed of the pleasant discovery they had made, and had manyt^iuestions to ask concerning her Boston friends. Oscar seemed to become at once an old ac- THE SHOP. 253 quaintance. The fiict that he was a sclioolmate of Willie gave him a direct passport to the good graces of all the family. When Oscar called to mind his pe- culiar relations towards Willie, this imloolredifor friend- ship was not particularly agreeable to him ; for he was not, and never had been, on very friendly terms with Clinton's cousin. This, however, was more than he dared say to Clinton, and so he concealed his dislike of Willie as well as he could. After sitting in the house a little while, Clinton in- vited Oscar and Jerry into the " shop," which was a room back of the kitchen, where Mr. Davenport kept a variety of carpenter's tools. Here, in cold and stormy weather, Clinton's father mended his broken tools and implements, and performed such other jobs as were re- quired. Clinton, too, spent many odd moments at the work-bench, and patient practice had made him quite a neat and skilful workman. He showed the boys sev- eral boxes, a pine table, and a cricket, made entirely by his own hands, which would have done no discredit to a regular carpenter. After remaining an hour or two \*hh Clinton, Oscar .* And Jerry started for home, well pleased, with tbeii* visit. 22 CHAPTER XVIII. THE LETTER. " /^SCAR, you haven't written liome since you came clown here, have you?" inquired Mr. Preston ^one morning at the breakfast table. " No, sir," replied Oscar. "Well, you ought to write," added Mr. Preston; " your mother told you to, and I suppose she has been /ooking for a letter every day for a week or more. It 's over a fortnight since you left home, and your folks will feel anxious about you, if they don't hear from you soon. You 'd better write a letter to them this morn- inof, before you do anvthins: else, and then it will be out of the way. I shall either go or send over to the post-oflSce to-day, and the letter will start for Boston to- morrow morning, and get there the next day.'^ " dear, T hate to write," said Oscar. " Why can't you write to mother, aunt, and tell her how I am ?" LETTER-WRITING. 255 "No, no," said Mr. Preston, "that won't do. You promised your mother that you would write yourself, and she '11 expect to hear from you, and not f]-om some- body else. Your aunt can write, if she chooses, but you must write too. I '11 give you a pen and some pa per and ink after breakfast, and you can write just a much as you please." " I guess it won't be much — I don't know how to write a letter," replied Oscar. " A boy of your age not know how to write a letter — and been all your lifetime to such grand schools as they have in Boston, too I I don't believe that," said Mr. Preston, shaking his head. " I shall have to go and see the Shanghae Rooster," said Oscar, looking at Jerry very knowingly. Jerry laughed at this allusion, but the others did not appear to understand its meaning. It was evident that they were innocent of all knowledge of the mysterious letter ; and as Jerry wished them to remain so, he adroitly turned the remark by replying : " N'o you won't — father has got plenty of steel pens." After breakfast, Mr. Preston told Oscar to follow 256 THE LITTLE ROOM. liim. They went up stairs, and Mr. P. took a key from his pocket, and unlocked the door of what was known by the name of " the private room." It was a very small apartment, and was originally designed for a closet or store-room ; but Mr. Preston now used it as a sort of office. Here he kept his business papers, and here he did what little writing he had to do. There was one window in the room,' which looked out upon the garden in the rear of the house. Tiie furniture consisted of a chair, a small portable desk, placed upon a table, an old map of the State of Maine, a diction- ary, almanac, and several other odd volumes and pamphlets. " There," said Mr. Preston, " you may sit right dov/n to my desk, and write as long as you please, if you won't disturb my papers. There are paper, ink, pens, and wafers — you can use what you want. When you 2^et done, lock the door, and give the key to your aunt." Oscar found there was no backing out fiom ^ letter this time ; so he sat down, and tried to make up his mind to face the dreaded duty. He heard his uncle tell the children not to interrupt him, till he had fin- ished his letter ; and when Mr. Preston and his man MAKING A BEGINNING. 257 James went off to work, Jerry accompanied them. Os- car was thus left to himself. After thinking about the matter a few moments, he dipped his pen in the ink- stand, and, having consulted the almanac, wrote the proper date for the letter, together with the address, " Dear Mother." Here he came suddenly to a stand. He was at a loss how to commence. He sat uneasily in his chair, now nibbling the end of the pen-holder, and now running his fingers slowly through his hair, as if to coax out the thoughts he wished to express. At length he got started, and wrote several lines without stopping. Now he thought he should go ahead without further trouble; but he soon found him- self again brought to a dead halt. He began to scribble and draw rude figures upon a piece of waste paper, hoping the next sentence, in continuance of his letter, would soon pop into his head ; but instead of anything popping in, his ideas began to pop out, so that he almost forgot the letter, amid the unmeaning flourishes his pen was making. Then, suddenly think- ing of the scarcely-commenced task before him, he read and re-read the few lines he had written, but could not determine what to say next. Lifting up the lid of the 22* 258 THE SWALLOW desk, lie found a variety of bills, receipts, accounts and letters scattered about. Disregarding the injunction of his uncle, and in violation of one of the plainest rules of good breeding, he concluded to open one of the let- ters, and see if he could not gain some hint from it, to aid him in completing his own. The letter he opened proved to be a short business message, and it was wi-it- ten in such a diiScult hand, that he could not read half the words. He then looked into several other letters, but none of them afforded him any aid. After idling away half an hour in this manner, he resumed his letter, and began to make some progress upon it, when the lively chirping and twittering of a party of birds in an apple-tree near the window, attracted his attention. He laid down his pen, and watched their movements awhile. They were swal- lows ; and from their actions, Oscar soon discovered ^nat the old birds were teaching their little ones how to fly. There were several nests of these swallows, under the rafters of Mr. Preston's barn ; and as they had recently had accessions to their families, Oscar concluded this must be the first appearance of the new-comers in public. The old birds fluttered A LESSON UNHEEDED. 259 back and forth, twittering and talking to the young ones all the while, and trying to entice them to commit themselves again to their wings. The little feai-ful things looked doubtingly, first one way and then an- other, as though they would gladly launch away upon their destined element, if they were only sure they should not tumble ingloriously to the ground. The clamor of the old ones increased every moment. They called and coaxed more earnestly, and fluttered more impatiently, until at length the young birds worked up their courage to the requisite point, and away the whole flock darted, towards the barn. Now that the swallows were out of his way, Oscar returned to his letter once more. Had he learned a lesson of self-confidence from the example of the little swallows, the few minutes he spent in watching their movements would have been well employed. But in- stead of his confidence increasing, he was now almost sick of the sight of the letter, and began to doubt whether he should ever finish it. While he was hesita- ting whether he had better tear it up, or try once more to go on with it, a sweet childish voice from the garden engaged his attention. He looked from the window, 260 mary's picture book. and saw little Maiy sitting down upon the grass, in a shady spot, with a large book open before her. She was looking at the engravings in the volume, and was talking very earnestly to herself, and to the figures in the pictures. " There is Emily," she was saying, " and there is father with a shovel ; and this one is me, and that is Jerry, and that 's Oscar, carrying a basket. I guess they 're going to dig potatoes. 0, what lots of houses over the other side of the pond ; and there 's one, two, three, five, ten, eight meeting-houses, too. It must be Boston, I guess, there are so many houses there. And there's a great boat coming — O what a smoke it makes! — and it's got wheels, too. jSTow we'll get right into it, and go and see Uncle Henry and all the folks. Stop, stop, you boat ! jSTow that 's too bad — it goes by, and we can't go to Boston." Thus little Mary continued to talk to the pictures and to herself, unconscious that any one was listening to her. She was a pretty child, and, all unknown to her- self, she made almost as attractive a picture as any in her book, with her fair face, her flowing hair, and her clean dress, set off by the green grass and TRYING IN EARNEST 261 clinibino' vines around her. Oscar sat listening lo her childish prattle for some time, -5^;i> when the striking of the kitchen clock reminded him that he had been seated at ^■ the desk an hour, and had '^S^^'^^^^ not yet written a dozen lines. ^^mM^%JA^^ He was about to tear up the sheet of paper over which i - - .^ ^^^^^ he had sat (but not labored) so long-, and give up the attempt. Then he thought of his promise to write, and how ashamed he should feel to have his uncle's folks know that he had tried a whole hour, and could not write a letter to his own mother. He finally deter- mined to make one more attempt. Finding that the sound of Mary's voice disturbed him, Oscar now shut down the window, and thus cut off all communication with the outer world, except by the eye. He soon got under way again with his letter, and, to his own surprise,- he went along quite easily and with considerable rapidity. The reason of this was, he was now really in earnest, and had given his mind wholly to the letter. Before, his thoughts were 262 THE LETTER. flitting from one trifle to another ; now they were di- rected to the object he wished to accomplish. Before the clock struck the next hour, the letter was finished, sealed, and directed. It was quite a respectable sort of a letter, too. When he had got through, Oscar was him- self surprised to find that he could write so good an epistle. The spelling, punctuation, and penmanship might have been improved, but in other respects the letter was creditable J,o him. I will print it as he in- tended it should read, and not precisely as he wrote it: "Beookdale, June 15, 185-. " Dear Mother : " I suppose you are looking for a letter from me, and I meant to have written before this, but some- how I have neglected it. I got here safe the next day after I left home. We stopped one night in Portland, and put up at the Hotel. The next day we rode in the cars all the forenoon, and in the stage all the af- ternoon. The stage does not go within five miles of uncle's, but Jerry went over with a horse and wagon to get us. I like Brookdale fii-st-rate. It is a real coun- tryfied place, but I like it all the better for that. The nearest house to uncle's is half a mile oft'; and, by the way, tell Ralph that a cousin of Whistler's lives there. His name is Clinton Davenport. I have got acquaint- ed with him, and hke him very much. I like Jerry, THE LETTER. 263 too. "We have capital times together. All the boys here are rather ' green,' as we say in Boston ; and you would langh at the ideas they have of city things ; but I suppose they think I am green about country things, and so we are square. I have lots of rides, and good long Avalksf too. A few days ago, Jerry and I walk- ed four or five itiiles through the woods and pastures, to an old hut where a hermit used to live. They say he was a miser, and buried his money there, and people have dug for it, but nobody has found it. We carried our provisions, and made a fire, and ate dinner there. There is a fine pond close by, where we got our water to drink. " There are lots of birds here. We are going to set some snares in the woods, and catch some. There are some swallows' nests in uncle's barn, just over the door. You can look right up into them, and see the birds. They are quite tame. They are just making their young ones learn how to fly. It is real amusing to see them. " Uncle has quite a large farm. I forget how many acres he told me there was, but it is a good many. They have cows, and pigs, and hens, and live in real country style. I have learned how to make butter, but I have not learned to like buttermilk yet. I can't bear it, but all the other folks think it is a great treat. The schools don't keep here but three months in the winter, so Jerry and I are together about all the time. We sleep together, too. I almost forgot to tell you that I 2G4 INQUISITIVENESS. have got quite strong and hearty again. My cough ia gone, and aunt says I look a good deal better than I did when I came here. I want to hear from home, but I hope you won't send for me to go back just yet. But I am tii'ed of writing, and must close up my letter. Excuse eri'ors and bad writing. Give my love to all the family, including Tiger. " Your affectionate son, " Oscar." Oscar felt quite relieved when his letter was ready for the post-office. Having locked up the little room, he carried the key to his aunt. "Have you written your letter?" inquired Mrs. Pres- ton. " Yes, ma'am," replied Oscar. " Where is it ? You 're going to let me read it, aint you ?" inquired Emily. "There it is," said Oscar, taking the letter from his jacket pocket ; " but I guess you won't read it, miss." " Yes, do let me read it," persisted Emily, who really had an undue proportion of inquisitiveness in her nature. " No, I can't ; it 's sealed up," replied Oscar. " Then tell me what you wrote, won't you ?" con- tinued Emily. BANTERING. 265 " Why, you silly child, what business is it to you what he wrote ?" said her mother. " Don't ask any more such foolish questions ; Oscar will think you have n't got common sense if you do." " Did you write anything about me ?" continued Emily, in a lower tone. " Did you hear me, Emily ?" inquired Mrs. Preston, in a sharper tone. " O no, I did n't write much," said Oscar, in reply to Emily ; " there 's nothing in the letter that you would care about seeing." *' I didn't know you were going to seal up the letter so soon. I wanted to send a message to Alice and Ella," continued Emily. "You are too late now," replied Oscar; "but I'll give you a chance next time. What message do you want to send ?" " You must n't be so inquisitive," said Emily, with a laugh ; "just as though I were going to tell you, when you would n't let me read the letter !" " AVell, I can tell you one thing, — I don't want to know," replied Oscar. "Aunt Eliza, do you know where Jerry is?" 23 266 MULCHING. " He has gone ^YitIl liis father down to the meadow lot," replied Mrs. Preston. " I guess they will be back before a great while." 'Oscar set out for the " meadow lot," which was a quarter of a mile from the house, on the other side of the river. He had not gone far, however, when he met Mr. Preston and Jerry returning. "I've written my letter, uncle, and it's all ready to go to the post-oiSce," said Oscar ; " can't Jerry and I carry it over V " I '11 see about that this afternoon," said Mr. Pres- ton ; " I've got something else for Jerry to do now." " I Vn going over to the old wood-lot to get a load of mulching," said Jerry to Oscar ; " and you can go too, if you want to.^' " Mulching — what is that?" inc^uired Oscar. " It 's stuff that they put around young trees, to keep the roots from drying up in summer," replied Jerry. " You know all those small apple and pear trees back of the barn ? well, it's to put around them." Having reached the house, the boys ate some lunch- eon, and then proceeded to tackle Billy into the hay- cart. After Mr. Preston had given Sevrj sundry cau- CUTTING BIRCH TWIGS. 267 tions and directions, wliicli the latter seemed to think quite unnecessary, the boys hopped into the cart, and drove off towards the woods. Mr. Preston owned several tracts of woodland in Brookdale. The lot to which the boys were going, was called the " old" one. because the wood had all been cut off once, and it was now covered with a young growth, not large enough for fii-ewood. It was but a short distance from the house, and the boys soon reached the spot, and com- menced operations. They Avere each provided with 1-arge jack-knives, and with these they proceeded to lop oif the young and tender ends of the birches, which trees were quite abundant in that spot ; for birches are very apt to spring up after a pine forest has been cleared away. Many of the trees were yet so small, that the boys did not have to climb -up to reach the branches. - Though all this was really work, it seemed so much like play to Jevvy and Oscar, that they actually /o?yo!f to be lazy. The consequence was, the job was done before they thought of it. Gathering up the heaps of small twigs scattered around them, they threw them into the cart, and found they had quite a respectable 268 THE RIDE. load ; respectable in bulk at least, tliougli not a very hesi^y burden for Billy. Taking their seats upon the top of the mulching, which was almost as soft as a load of hay, they drove back to the barn, and alighted. Mr. Preston now appeared, and led the horse into the orchard, where, with the aid of the boys, he scattered the birch twigs around the young trees, so as to pro- tect their roots from the fierce heat of the sun. There was not enough for all the trees, but he told them they need not get any more at that time. After dinner, Mr. Preston said he should have to go over to the Cross-Roads himself, as he wanted to see a man who lived there ; but he told Oscar he might go with him, if he wished. Oscar accepted the invitation, and they were soon on their way, leaving Jerry not a little disappointed that he could not go with them. Oscar handed his letter to the postmaster, who marked it with the stamp of the office, and deposited it in the mail-bag. Mr. Preston stopped to purchase a few articles in the shop where the post-office was kept. When he was ready to start, he inquired : " Have you mailed your letter, and paid your post- age, Oscar 2" PAYING POSTAGE. 2G9 " I 've mailed it, but I did n't pay tlie postage," re- plied Oscar. "That wasn't right," said his uncle-; "when you mail a letter to a friend, you should always pay the postage. If you pay it now, in advance, it will be only three cents ; but if the postage is not paid till the letter is delivered, it will be five cents." "I did n't think of that," said Oscar ; "I wonder if it is too late to pay it now ? I '11 go and see." On making known his request, the postmaster drevr forth the letter from the bag, and imprinted another stamp upon it. Oscar paid the three cents, and de- parted, with his uncle. CHAPTER XIX. THE RECALL. /^SCAR M'as bent upon going a-gimning. He had allowed Lis mind to dwell upon the idea, until it seemed to him as though he could no longer resist the impulse to play the sportsman, without a sacrifice of his happiness. His uncle, it is true, had tried to dissuade him from it, and had positively refused to lend him his gun. But there were other guns in Brookdale, and everybody was not so particular as Mr. Preston about trusting boys with fire-arms. Why could n't he borrow a gun of somebody else ? So he asked him- self; and by-and-bye he put the same question to Terry. Jerry heartily entered into the proposal. He i,hought Jim Oakley would lend him a gun. At any rate, he was not afraid to ask him. Jim was a famous gunner, in that region. He had several fowling-pieces ; A DISPUTE. 271 and if he would not lend them his best rifle, it was not likely that he would refuse them one of his old guns. So Jerry reasoned, and Oscar fully agreed with him. They went to see Jim, that very afternoon, and by dint of teasing, they got the gun, together with a small quantity of powder and shot. Thus armed, they set out for the woods, in quest of game. They had been in the woods but a short time, and had not yet shot anything, though they had fired sev- eral charges, when a dispute arose between them about the gun. Jerry claimed a right to it half the time, on the ground that he had borrowed it. Oscar was will- ing that he should use the gun occasionally, but he re- sisted his claim to it half the time. He contended that the gun was loaned to him, and besides, he had agreed to pay the owner for all the ammunition they used. The dispute waxed warmer and warmer. Oscar was ob- stinate, and Jerry grew sulky. It was the first serious dif- ficulty that had arisen between them. Neither of them, as yet, knew the other's temper, bat' now they were in a fair way of finding each other out. It was the clash- ing of two strong wills. Oscar soon saw that their sport was at an end for that day, and throwing down 272 HARD WORDS. the gun and powder flask upon tlie grass, he said, in an angry tone : " There, take the old thing, and do what you please with it ; and when you carry it back, see that you pay for the powder, for I won't." So saying, he turned uppn his heel and walked off. He had not gone far when Jerry, who had picked up the gun, called out : " Here ! you 've broken the trigger, throwing it down so. You may carry it back yourself now, I won't." " I shan't carry it back," replied Oscar ; "you say he lent it to you, and you may take care of it now." Oscar went back to his uncle's, leaving Jerry and the gun to keep each other company. ISTot feeling in a very pleasant mood, Oscar did not go into the house, but loitered around the barn, avoiding the family as much as he could. Pretty soon he saw Clinton driving up, and he stepped inside of the barn, as he did not care about speaking with him. Clinton stopped however, when opposite to the barn, and called to him. "What would you give for a letter from home ?" said Clinton, when Oscar made his appearance. A LETTER FROM HOME. 273 " I don't know — why, have you got one for me ?" inquired Oscar, with remarkable coolness. " That 's for you, I guess," said Clinton, handing him a letter. " I 've been over to the post-office, and as I happened to see a letter directed to you, I thought I wouhi take it along with me." "That's right, I'm glad you did," said Oscar, taking the letter. " Much obliged to you for your trouble," he added, as Clinton drove off. Oscar now went into the barn, and, seating himself upon a stool, opened and read his letter. It was fi-om his mother. She acknowledged the receipt of his letter, and expressed much gratification at hearing that he was well and enjoying himself. His father, she wi'ote, thought he had better return home, and resume his place at school, from which he had been absent nearly three months. The term would close in about a month, and he wanted Oscar to be prepared to enter the High School at that time. Then followed various little mes- sages from the children, directions about his journey home, &c. In closing, she requested him to return that week, that he might be ready to go to school the following Monday. 274 THE QUARREL. Oscar was not very much pleased with the contents of the letter. He did not expect to be recalled so sud- denly. He had hoped that, at any rate, he should not be sent to school again that term. But his plans and hopes were all ovei'turned by this letter. He went into the house, and told the news to his aunt, who expressed regret that he was to leave so soon. By-and-bye Jerry came home, but he brought the same scowl upon his face that Oscar left with him up in the woods. Oscar, too, was as "stufiy" as ever. No words passed between the two, and each seemed bent upon gi\'ing the other a wide berth. At the supper table, somethino; was said about Oscar's letter, and his going home ; but Jerry was too obstinate to ask any questions, and so he remained in tormenting uncertainty in regard to the matter. Oscar, too, had some curiosity about the gun, but he did not intend to " speak first," if he never spoke again to his cousin. During the whole evening, Oscar and Jerry were at the opposite poles of the little family circle. When Oscar retired for the night, he found Jerry not only abed, but asleep, or pretending to be. It was a wonder that both did not tumble out of bed that night ; for SOBER FACES. 275 each slept upon tlio extreme edge of the mattress, as far as possible from the other. "When Oscar awoke in the morning, he found him- self alone, Jerry having quietly arisen and slipped out of the room, without disturbing him. They did not see each other until they met at the breakfast table. Here, their sober and quiet demeanor, so unusual with ihem, soon attracted notice. " See how down in the mouth Jerry is !" said Emily. " He looks as though he had lost all his friends. And Oscar does n't look much better either, poor fellow I" Both boys changed, color, and looked queerly, but they said nothing. " Never mind, boys," said Mrs. Preston, " you 've got one day more to enjoy yourselves together. You 'd better make the most of that, while it lasts, and not worry about the separation till the time comes." " That 's good doctrine," said Mr. Preston ; " never borrow trouble, for it comes fast enough any way. Come, cheer up, Oscar, you have n't gone yet." " It 's too bad to make me go home so soon — I thought I was going to stay here a month or two," said Oscar, who was very willing that his unusual 27b AN EXPLOSION. demeanor should be attributed entirely to his summons home. - "You must ask your father to let you comedown and spend your vacation," said Mr. Preston. " I ex- pect to go up to Boston about that time, and I guess he will let me bi'ing you home with me." " I should like to come," said Oscar, " but I don't be- lieve father will let me, it 's so far." " yes, he will, when he knows what good friends you and Jerry are," replied Mr. Preston. "Jerry's crying, as true as I'm alive!" exclaimed Emily, who had been watching the workings of her brother's face for several moments, and thought she saw moisture gathering in his eye. "No I aint, either !" replied Jerry, in such a prompt and spiteful tone, and with such a scowl upon his face, that all the others, including even Oscar, joined in a hearty laugh. " I hope you feel good-natured," said his mother ; "Oscar's going off seems to have had a queer effect upon you." " I don't care, you 're all picking upon me — it 's enough to make anybody cross," said Jeriy, in a surly tone. <^ ITS EFFECTS. 277 "You're mistaken — nobody has picked upon you," replied his mother. " Yes, you have, too," responded Jerry "Jerry! don't let me hear any more of that — not another word," said Mr. Preston, sternly. " Then you 'd better make Emily hold her tongue," said Jerry. " Hush ! do you hear me ?" said Mr. Preston, with considerable excitement. Jerry undertook to mutter something more, when his father jumped up, and, taking him by the collar, led him to the cellar-door, and told him to go down and stay until he was sent for. Then, shutting the door, and turning the button, he resumed his seat at the table, and the family finished their meal in silence. Jerry was released from his confinement soon after breakfast ; but the unfortunate affair at the table con- tinued to weigh heavily upon his mind. Throughout the rest of the day, he kept out of everybody's way, and said nothing, but looked sour, cross, and wretched. Oscar, too, felt very unpleasantly. He found it hard work to amuse himself alone. He was a boy of strong social feelings, and abhorred solitary rambles and sports. 24 278 MAKING UP. It was a long and dull day, and when he retiied to bed at night, he almost felt glad that it was his hist day in Brookdale. Soon after he had got into bed, Jerry, who had re- tired before him, called out : " Oscar !" " What ?" inquired the other. There was a long pause, during which Jerry hitched and twisted about, as if hesitating how to proceed. He at length inquired : "Are you mad with me ?" "No," replied Oscar, somewhat reluctantl}^, and in a tone that was almost equivalent to " yes." " I don't want you to go off without making up with me," added Jerry ; and as he spoke, his voice trembled, and had it been light enough, Oscar might have de- tected something like moistare in those very eyes that had flashed in anger at Emily in the morning, for re- porting the same thing of them. " I 'm ready to make up with you," replied Oscar, turning over toward Jerry. Having thus, broken the ice, the constraint and re- serve that had existed between them since the previous STARTING FOR HOME. 279 day, giadually melted away, and they were once more on sociable terms, although their intercourse was not quite so free and unembarrassed as it was before their quarrel. In fact, they did not properly heal up the difficulty between them, inasmuch as neither made an}r confession or apology — a duty that both should hav performed, as they were about equally guilty. Oscar's fiist inquiries were concerning the gun. Jerry told hira that he carried it home, and that the owner was quite angry, when he saw the damage it had sustained, but said nothing about making the boys pay for it. . The next morning the family arose at an earlier hour than usual, as Oscar had got to be on his way soon after sunrise. It was decided that Jerry should drive him over to the Cross-Roads. Accordingly, after a hasty breakfast, he bade them all good-bye, one by one, and taking a seat in the wagon with Jei'ry, start- ed for home. It was deho-htful, ridinof while the birds were yet singing their morning songs, and the grass was spangled with dew, and the cool air had not fel the hot breath of the sun ; but the separation that was about to take place, and the unpleasant recollection of their recent quarrel, lessened their enjoyment of the 280 THE COACH. ride very much. They reached the Cross-Roads nearly half an hour before the staofe-coach came alonof. At length it drove up to the post-ofBce, and Oscar, mount- ing to the top, took a seat behind the driver. The mail-bag was handed to the driver, and the coach started again on its way, Oscar bowing his farewell to Jerry, as they drove off. Nothing of terest occurr the forenoon's coach reached its destin tion about ele and Oscar 1 time enough the dust from his clothing, and to obtain a drink of cold wa- ter, when the signal was given for the cars to start, and he took his seat in the train. His thoughtful aunt A LONG RIDE. 281 had placed a liberal supply of eatables in tlie top of his valise, and to that he now had recourse, for his long ride had given him a sharp appetite. There were but few passengers in the train when it started, but at al- most every station it received accessions. On reaching Portland, Oscar found that he had nearly half an hour to spare, before taking the Boston train ; for it was his intention to " go through" in one day, which his early start enabled him to do. After treating himself to a few cakes, which he purchased at a refreshment stand in the depot, he walked about until it was time to take his seat in the cars. The clock stiiick three, and the train started. One hundred and eleven miles seemed to Oscar a long dis- tance to travel, at one stretch, especially after riding all the forenoon ; and, indeed, he did begin to feel quite tired, long before he -reached the end of the journey. To add to his uneasiness, a particle of cinder from the locomotive flew' into his eye, and lodged there so firmly that all his efforts to remove it were in vain. In a little while, the eye became quite painful, and he was obliged to keep it closed. A kind-looking gentleman, who sat near him, noticed his trouble, and offered to 24* 282 HOME AGAIN. assist him in removing the mote; but it was so small that he could not find it. He advised Oscar not to rub the inflamed organ, and told him he thought the mois- ture of the eye would soon wash out the intruder, if left to itself. Oscar tried to follow this advice, but the pain and irritation did not subside, and he closed his eyes, and resigned himself to darkness. The nine o'clock bells of Boston were ringing, as Os- car left the depot and turned his steps homeward. He hurried along through the fjirailiar streets, and had just turned the corner from which his home was in sight, when somebody jumped suddenly from a dark passage-way, and seized him by the hand. Tt was Ralph, who had been on the watch for his brother half an hour, and concealed himself just as he saw him ap- proaching. Each gave the other a cordial greeting, and then they hastened into the house, where Oscar found the rest of the family waiting to receive him. The general commotion that followed his arrival, arous- ed Tiger from the comfortable nap he was taking on a mat, and on hearing the well-remembered tones of his master's voice, he sprang toward Oscar, and neai'ly knocked him over with his demonstrations of welcome. THE ETE-STONE. 283 So Oscar was at home again ; and from the welcome he received, he learned that there is pleasure in getting back from a journey as well as in setting out upon one. His inflamed eye soon attracted the notice of his mother, and she examined it to see if she could detect the cause of the irritation ; but the troublesome atom was invisible. She then said she would try the eye- stone, and, going to the drawer, she got a small, smooth, and flat stone, and told Ella to go down into the kitchen and bring up a little vinegar in a saucer. On putting the stone into the vinegar, it soon began to move about, as though it were possessed of life. When it had become sufficiently lively, Mrs. Preston wiped it dry, and put it between the lid and ball of Oscar's in- flamed eye. After it had remained there a few min- utes, he allowed it to drop into his hand, and on a close examination, he found that it had brought with it the offending substance that had caused him so much pain. It was a little black speck, so small that it was barely perceptible to the unaided eye. It now being quite late, Mrs. Preston thought that further inquiries and answers concerning Oscar's visit had better be deferred till morning, and the family soon retired to their beds. CHAPTER XX. DOWNWARD PROGRESS. ' nnilE next day was Saturday. Oscar was off most of the day witli his comrades, among whom he was quite a lion for the time. During one of the brief in- tervals that he was in the house, his mother said some thing about his going to school on Monday. "0 dear, I don't want to go to school again this term," said Oscar. " What 's the use ? Why, it 's only four or five weeks before the term will be through.' " I know that," replied his mother, " but your father is very anxious that you should get into the High School, and he thinks you can do it if you finish up this term." "I can't do it — I've got all behindhand with ray studies," said Oscar. " yes, you can if you try," replied his mother. " You might have got into the High School last year GOING TO SCHOOL. 285 if you had studied a little harder. You were almost qualified then, and I 'm sure you ought to be now. If you find you are behind your class in your lessons, you must study so much the harder, and you '11 get up with tliem by-and-bye." "But I don't believe it will do me any good to be confined in the school-room," continued Oscar. " I don't think I'm so strong as I was before I was sick." " Well," said Mrs. Preston, " when you 're sick you need not go to school ; but I guess there 's no danger of your staying at home for that reason, at present You never looked better in your life than you do now.'' Oscar tried his pleas again in the evening with his father, but with quite as poor success. He saw that it was fully determined that he should resume his seat at school, and he reluctantly submitted to this decision. When Monday morning came, he proceeded to school, but found that his old desk was in possession of another boy. The head teacher in Oscar's department soon ap- peared, and seemed quite glad to see him once more. He appointed Oscar a new seat, and told him he hoped he would study so diligently as to make up for lost time. The hopes of Oscar's teacher and parents were 286 A TALENT FOR MISSING. doomed to disappoiiitment. It was soon evident that he caced less about his lessons than ever. He was be- hind his class, and instead of redoubling his eflorts to get up with them, he became discouraged and indiflfer- ent. His recitations were seldom perfect, and often they were utter failures. His teachers coaxed, and en- couraged, and ridiculed, and frowned, and punished, all in vain. One day, after Oscar had blundered w^orse than usual, the teacher who was hearing the recitation said to him, in a despairing tone : "You remind me, Oscar, of what one of the old Ro- man emperors said to an archer who shot his arrows a whole day, and never once hit the mark. He told him he had a most wonderful talent for missing. So I must say of you — you 've got the greatest talent for missing of any boy I know." Seeing a smile on the faces of Oscar's classmates, he added : " But this is too sober a matter to make light of. If you could not get your lessons, it would be a differ- ent matter ; but I know, and you know, that this is not the trouble. You are quick enough to learn and \o understand, when you have a mind to be. If you somebody's cap. 287 would only try to get your lessons as hard as the othei boys do, you. would n't be at the foot of the. class a great while. If you keep on in this way, you will see your folly as plainly as I see it now, before you are many years older." This admonition had little effect upon Oscar. When school was dismissed, a few minutes after, he rushed out with as light a step as any of his comrades, and his gay laugh was heard as soon as he reached the entry. In the general scramble for caps, one had fallen from its peg, and instead of replacing it, tivo or three of the boys were making a football of it. Oscar joined the sport, and gave the cap a kick that sent it part of the way down stairs. A moment after, he met Willie Davenport returning with it. '' Halloo, Whistler, that is n't your cap, is it ?" inquired Oscar. " No, but it 's somebody'' s^^'' said the good-hearted boy, as he brushed off the dust, and put the lining back into its place. He was about hanging it up, when Benny Wright appeared, and claimed it as his property. Had Oscar known that the cap was Benny's, he would not have made a foot-ball of it. He remem- 288 BAD BEHAVIOR. bered tlie kind epistle he received, when sick, and the amusement it alForded him, v/hen amusements were scarce. Since his recovery, he had treated Benny with much more consideration than before, and quite a kindly feehng had sprung up between them. Oscar 's inattention to his studies was not his only fault at school. His general behavior was worse than it had ever been before. Vexed that he was compelled to return to school so near the expiration of the term, it seemed as though he was determined to make as little improvement in his studies, and as much trouble for his teachers, as he could. He not only idled away his own time, but he disturbed other boys who were disposed to study. He was repeatedly reproved and punished, but reproof and punishment did no good ; on the contrary, the} seemed rather to make him worse. The teachers at length gave him up as incor- rigible, and consoled themselves with the thought that his connection with the school would cease in two or three weeks, at which time his class would graduate. They still aimed to keep him in check, during school hours, but they ceased spending their time and breath in trying to bring about a reformation in his conduct. THE TOBACCO SPITTLE. 280 One day as the scholars were' engaged in \Yriting, the master, while passing ahong among the boys, and inspecting their wiiting-books, noticed that somebody had been spitting what appeared to be tobacco juice, near Oscar 's seat. This was a violation of the rules of the school, and the teacher concluded not to let it pass unnoticed. Having no doubt, from seveial cir- cumstances, that Oscar was the offender, he said to him : "Oscar, what are you chewing tobacco in school for, and spitting the juice on the floor ?" "I have n't chewed anj^ tobacco this afternoon," re- plied Oscar. " What is it, then, that you have been spitting upon the floor ?" inquired the teacher. "I have n't spit upon the floor," replied Oscar. " Who did that?" continued the teacher, pointing to the puddle upon the floor. " I don't know," said Oscar ; " it was there when I took my seat." It w^as possible that Oscar told the truth, but the teacher had his doubts. He might, perhaps, liave set- tled the matter at once by putting a question to one or 25 290 A S E A R C H . two of tlie boys who sat near the supposed offender ; but as he always avoided the system of making one boy inform against another, when he could properly do so, he took another course. He told Oscar, if he had any tobacco in his mouth, or anywhere about his per- son, to give it up to him. Oscar declared that he had none. " Let me look into your mouth," said the teacher. Oscar had a small piece of the weed in his mouth, which he tucked behind his upper lip with his tongue, and then opened his mouth. The teacher of course sa»v nothino' but what belonfred there. He smelt some- thing, however, that left him no longer in doubt that Oscar had told a falsehood. " I can't see your cud, but I can smell it plain enough," said the master; "and I '11 examine your pockets, if you please." Oscar v/as far from pleased with this proposition, and tried to prevent its being carried into effect. The master, however, easily overcame the difficulties he put in the way, and running his hand into the pocket which he seemed most anxious to defend, brought forth a piece of tobacco large enough to kill a horse ! THE NEW COPY. 291 "What is that?" he inquired, hold ing the contraband article before Oscar. Oscar neither looked at it nor made any reply. " And you are the boy who said a moment ago that you had no tobacco about you," continued the master " I declare I don't know what tu do with you. I hav said and done all that I can to mak« a better boy of you, and now I shall report this matter lo your father, and let him settle it with you. But I want you to reraemr ber one thing. When you tell me a lie, you break God's law, and not mine ; and you can't settle the mat- *" ter in full with me, or any other human being." The teacher then threw the piece of tobacco out of the open window, and taking Oscar's writing-book, told him he would set a new copy for him. He soon re- turned, with the following line written upon the top of a clean page : " Lying li])8 are abomination to the LordP As Oscar wrote this fearful sentence over and over again, he could not fully escape the force of its mean- ino-. It reminded him of his feelings durino' his recent illness, when at times the terrible thought that his sick- ness might possibly be unto death intruded upon his 292 THE COMPLAINT. mind. But tliougbts of God, and death, and £ future world, were alike unpleasant to bim, and he banished them as speedily as possible. During the afternoon, the principal of the school wrote a letter to Mr. Preston, informing bim of Oscar's ndolence and bad conduct, and referiing particularly to the incident that had just occurred. By way of oflset to the complaint, he spoke in very high terms of Ralph, who attended the same school, but was in another de- partment and another room. He sent the letter by Ralph, but told him not to let Oscar know anything about it. Ralph had some suspicions of the nature of the letter, but he did his errand faithfully, going direct- ly from school to his father's store. Mr. Preston was at first veiy much irritated by the teacher's complaints of Oscar's misconduct; and could he have taken the culprit in hand at the time, he would probably have handled him rather roughly. But aev- eral days elapsed before he found it convenient to talk with Oscar about the matter, and by this time. his pas- sion had subsided into anxiety and sorrow. He showed Oscar the lettei', in which he, the eldest son, was severe- ly censured, and his little brother was so highly com- PARENTAL ANXIETY. 293 mended. AVith tears in his eyes, he warned him of the dangers before him, and entreated him to diange his course. Oscar had never seen his father exhibit so much emotion before. Usually, on such occasions, he was stern, if not passionate ; more ready to threaten and punish than to appeal to the heart and conscience. Now, all this was changed, and sorrow seemed to have taken the place of anger. Oscar was somewhat affect- ed by this unusual manifestation of parental anxiety. He was pretty w^ell hardened against scoldings and threatenings, but he did not know how to meet this new form of rebuke. He tried to conceal his feelings, however, and preserved a sullen silence throughout tho interview. This affair made no abiding impression U|)on Oscar. In a day or two it was forgotten, and the slight com- punctions he felt had entirely disappeared. But the schoolmaster's complaint was soon followed by another that w^as quite as unpleasant. As Mrs. Preston was sit- ting at her sewing, one day, the door suddenly opened, and in came Bridget, the servant girl, with a face as red as rage and a hot fire could make it. 25* 294 Bridget's complaint. "I'll be goin' off this night, ma'am — I'll pack me chist, and not stop here any longer at all," said Bridget, in a tone that betokened her anger. "Going off — :\vhat do j^ou mean? You. don't say you 're going to leave us so suddenly, Biddy ?" inquired Mrs. Preston, with surprise. " Yes, that I be," replied Bridget, very decidedly ; "I'll not be after staying in the same house with that big, ugly b'y, another day." " Who, Oscar ? "What has he done now ?" inquired Mrs. Preston. " He 's did nothing but bother the life out o' me ivery day since he coom back, that's jist all he 's did," replied Biddy. " Jist now, ma'am, he slopped over a hull basin o' dirty whater right on to the clane floor, and thin laffed at me, and sassed me, and called me all sorts o' bad names — the little sass-box ! It 's not the like o' Bridget Mullikin that '11 put up with his dirty impidence another day. I 'd like to live with ye, ma'am, and Mister Pristen, good, nice man that he is ; but I can't stop to be trated like a dog by that sassy b'y." "I'll go and see what he has been about," said Mrs. Preston, laying down her w^ork. 295 When they reached the kitchen, Oscar was not to be found. There was the puddle- of dirty water upon the floor, however, and so far Bridget's story was corrobo- rated. As she proceeded to wipe it up, she continued to speak in not very complimentary terms of the " ugly b'y," as she delighted to call Oscar. It was in vain that Mrs. Preston attempted to soothe her ruffled spirits. She refused to be comforted, and insisted upon taking her departure from the house that night. Oscar did not make his appearance again until late in the afternoon. When his mother called him to ac- count for his treatment of Bridget, he denied the great- er part of hei- story. He said that the basin of water was standing upon the floor, and that he accidentally hit it with his foot, and upset it. He denied that he called her bad names or was impudent, but he admitted that he laughed, to see her so angry. He also com- plained that she was as " cross as Bedlam" to him, and "jawed" him whenever he entered the kitchen. Mrs. Preston, puzzled by these contradictory stories, Drought the two contending parties face .to face, in hope of either eliciting the truth or effecting a treaty of peace between them. She failed in both objects, h6w- 296 FACTS IN THE CASE. ever. Biiciget not only adhered to Ler first statement, but boldly accused Oscar of sundry other misdeeds that had come up in recollection since the first outbreak ; while Oscar, on the other hand, stoutly denied most of her charges, and insisted that she was ill-natured, and irritated him in every possible way. The contest finally waxed so warm between them that Mrs. Pieston was obliged to interpose, and to withdraw with Oscar. Mrs. Preston never ascertained the real facts in the case. Candor compels me to say that Bi-iclget's com- plaints were essentially true. Knowing the poor Irish girl's weak side (her quick temper), Oscar had for some time taxed his ingenuity to torment her, for the sake of hearing her *' sputter," as he termed it. He was not only impudent, and applied ofi'ensive names to her, bui sometimes he purposely put her to extra labor and trouble by misj^lacing articles, making dirt about the house, tfec. These things were a sad annoyance to Bridget, and she soon came to regard Oscar as '' the plague of her life," and treated him accordingly. He did very wrong to annoy her in this way ; and she was foolish to take so much notice of his hectoring. The ill-will thus established between them grew day by day, 1 THE EXAMINATION. 297 until it resulted in the open rupture just described. But Mis. Preston did not give full credit to Bridget's story. She believed the difficulty was owing quite as much to Biddy's irritable temper and ignorance as to Oscar's impudence, and consequently the latter escaped with a slight reprimand. She also prevailed upon Bridget to remain with them the week out, thinking she would by that time get over her anger. But, to the surprise of all, when Saturday night came,Biidget took her departure. She had got another "place," where she would be out of the reach of the provoking Oscar. The week for the annual examination of the public schools soon arrived. Oscar begged hard, but in vain, for permission to absent himself, on the eventful day that the grave committee and other distinguished visit- ors were to sit in judgment upon the condition of the school to which he belono-ed. But thouo-h. he was present, he did not appear to much advantage among the " bright particular stars" of the day ; and as one and another of the flower of his class were called out, to receive the " Franklin medals," his name was not heard, and no silken ribbon, with silver medal attached, was hung around his neck. 298 THE CERTIFICATE, The sara3 day, in obedience to the orders of his father, but very much against his own inclination, Os- car applied to the head master for the certificate re- quired of boys who present themselves for admission to the High School. The teacher seemed a little puzzled what reply to make. At length he said : " Do you know what kind of a certificate is required ?" " Yes, sir," replied Oscar, who had read the adver- tisement in the paper that morning. "The certificate must say that you are a boy of good character, and that your teacher believes you are quali- fied for admission to the High School," continued the master. " j^ow I want to ask you 'if you think I can honestly say that of you !" Oscar hung his head in shame, but made no reply. It had turned out just as he feared it would. *' It is very hard to refuse such a request," continued the teacher ; " but, really, if I should give you the cer- tificate, I am afraid it would do you no good, while it might do me some harm, for I don't like to have mj scholars rejected. I cannot honestly say that I think you are qualified for the High School ; and besides, your conduct has been such of late, that I do not see MORTIFICATION. 299 how I could give you a very high recommendation. I would advise you to give up the idea of applying for admission. I am very sorry it is so, but that will not help the matter." What could Oscar say to this? He said nothing, hut his looks betrayed the deep mortification he felt, and moved his teacher to pity, while he denied his request. ^N'or was this the end of Oscar 's troubles. He had got to face his father, and to confess to him that he was found unworthy even to be a candidate for the school foi* which he had so long been preparing. In doing this, he smoothed over the matter as well as he could ; but at best it was a bitter thing to him, and thus he began to experience some of the sad but natural effects of his own misconduct. CHAPTER XXI. NED MIXER, ri'^HE long summer vacation liad now commenced. Oscar wished to spend it at Brookdale, but his parents did not seem much inclined to yield to his wishes. They had not yet fully determined what to do with him ; whether to send him to a private school, when the vacations were over, or to put him to work in some shop or store. Meanwhile, Oscar was idling away his time about the streets, and devoting all his energies to the pursuit of amusement. His favorite place of re- sort continued to be the hotel where Alfred Walton lived. Here he found congenial spirits in Alfred, and Andv the speller, and the several drivers and hostlers, with \yhom he was on intimate terms. Here, too, he often met with strangers who took his fancy. At this time, a boy named Edward Mixer was boards ing at the hotel, He had lately come to Boston from A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 301 another city, and Oscar and Alfred were soon captivated by his free and easy manners, and his sociable qualities. He was between fifteen and sixteen years old, and rep- resented that be was travelling about, to see the world. He said he had plenty of money, and should have a great deal more, when he became of age. He was fashionably dressed, and Oscar and Alfred felt proud of his acquaintance, and were soon on terms of inti- macy with him. It was not long before Oscar discovered that Edward was a very bad boy. His conversation was low and , profane, and he seemed to take special delight ia relat- ing sundry "scrapes," in which he himself figured in a character that was something worse than mischievous, and bordered on the criminal. He "talked large," too, amazingly large ; and Oscar and Alfred were at length forced to the reluctant conclusion that he was an un- mitigated liar. But these were small faults, in their view. They considered Ned a capital fellow, and a right down good companion, in spite of these little drawbacks, and they sought his company as much as ever. Ned spent a good deal of his time around the several 26 802 AN EXCURSION. railroad depots. He seemed to Lave quite a mania for sucli places. Oscar and Alfred often accompanied liira to these favorite old haunts of theirs. One morning, as the three were loitering around a depot, having no- thing in particular to amuse themselves with, an excur- sion on foot into a neighboring town was proposed, and all readily agreed to the suggestion. They imme- diately set out, accompanied by Oscar's dog, Tiger. They walked along the railroad track, and crossed the river by the railroad bridge, thus saving their tolls, be- sides many extra steps. They passed several small sign-boards, on which was painted the warning, " iV^o Person allowed to cross this Bridge ;" but this did not check their progress, and as no one interfered with them, they were soon safely over the river. They still followed the track for some distance, until they had reached the open country, and then they turned off into the green fields. There were many fine orchards and gardens on every side, but ripe fiuits and berries were very scarce. Strawberries and cherries had pretty much disappeared, and it was not yet time for plums, peaches, and early apples and pears. Ned appeared to regret this wQvy much. ROBBING ORCHARDS. "Just see there !" he exclaimed, as they approached a large garden, remote from any house, whose ti'ees were loaded with green fruit. " What fine picking we should have, if it were only a few weeks later ! I mean to come out here again next month, you see if I don't. "We must mark this place; let me see; there's an old rough board fence — I shall remember that, I guess. Didn't you ever rob an orchard, Alf? I've robbed more than you could shake a stick at. I 'ra a first-rate hand at it, I can tell you — never got caught in my life ; but I've come pretty near it, though, a good many times. Hold on — I 'm going to get over the fence, and see what they 've got. Those plums over there look as if they were pretty near ripe. Come, Alf and Oscar, won't you get over ?" "You two may," said Oscar, "but I '11 stay here with Tiger. He might bark if we all got over, where he could n't see us." Edward and Alfi-ed were soon upon the other side of the fence. While they were exploring tlie garden, Os- car's attention was attracted to a dense thicket, from which two or three birds suddenly flew on his ap- proach. He thought there might be a nest there, and 304 THE BIRDS NEST .0', concluded to see if he could find it. Carefully brush- ing aside the leaves and twigs, he began to hunt for the suspected nest, while Tiger stood looking on. Absorb- ed in this occupation, he lost sight of his comrades. After searching for several minutes, Oscar found a small nest, within his reach, but it was empty. He turned to inform the other boys of his success, but they were nowhere to be seen. He walked along by the fence, but could see nothing of them. He wa afraid to call to them, lest the owner of the garden might hear, and take the alarm. He listened, but could not hear them. He walked alonof still further, THE PURSUIT. 305 and kept his eyes wide open, but they were not to be seen. He conckided they were playing a trick upon him, and had hid themselves. If that was the game, he thought, he would not worry himself about it. He accordingly turned about, and was going to sit down and wait for them to make their appearantje, when he happened to espy them in a distant field, running at the top of their speed, with a man in full chase after them. It was soon evident that the boys were gaining on their pursuer ; but they were approaching a brook, over which there was no bridge, and the man probably supposed that would bring them to a stand. It did not, however, for they ran right through the shallow water, without stopping to think about it. The man did not think it prudent to follow their example, and he ac- cordingly gave up the chase, and went back with dry feet. After Edward and Alfred had got rid of their pur- suer, they began to look around for Oscar. ' The latter, utting his fingers into his mouth, gave a loud and shrill whistle, which they immediately recognized, and answered in a similar way. Oscar started towards them, and taking a wide sweep through the fields, they 26* 306 PECULATION. all came out together upon the highway. They did not think it safe to remain long in the neighborhood, and so they hui'ried on towards Boston. It appeared, from Edward 's story, that he and Alfred knocked a few hard peaches from a tree, while in the gaiden, but they proved unfit to eat. They also found some ripe currants, and were leisurely helping themselves, when they heard somebody ask them what they were about. They turned, and saw a man approaching ; whereupon, without stopping to answer his 'question, they leaped over the fence, and took to their heels, the man follow- ing closely upon them. The conclusion of the race Oscar had witnessed. As they were walking home, and talking about va- rious matters, Edward suddenly gave the conversation a new turn, by inquiring : " Boys, do you want to go into a grand speculation with me ?" " Yes, what is it ?" was the response of both the others. "We should make something handsome out of it, but we should have to run some risk," continued Ed- ward. " I 've got the scheme all laid out, so that I KEEPING IT SECRET. 307 know just Low to go to work. But it 's no use talking about it. I don't believe either of you have got pluck enoup'h to g-o into it." " I Ve got pluck — the real, genuine article ; try me, and see if I have n't," said Alfred. "So have I," said Oscar; "I should like to have you show me a boy that 's got more pluck than I have, when I get stirred up." " Pooh, you don't know what pluck is, neither of you," replied Edward. " What would you do if a policeman sliouhl nnb you ?" "I should run, just as you did, when the man caught you stealing fruit," said Oscar, with a laugh. "That's a specimen of you7' pluck, aint it?" " But what is the speculation you were tehing about ?" inquired Alfred. "I guess I shan't tell you about it now," replied Ed- ward. " I 'm afraid you would n't keep it to yourselves." " Yes we will. / will at any rate," said Alfred. " So will I," added Oscar. "If I let you into the secret, and you should blab it out, I would n't mind killing both of you," said Edward, with forced gravity, which he could not long maintain, 308 Oscar's uncle. it g-radually relaxing into a smile. " I mean what I say," he added, " you need n't laugh at it." Both the others renewed their promise to keep the matter a secret ; but Edward, after talking about his scheme a quarter of an hour longer, and exciting the curiosity of the others to the highest point, finally in- formed them that he could not let them into the secret then, but that he would tell them all about it in a few days, if he was sure that they would keep it to them- selves. Oscar saw Edward almost every day, and often in- quired about his speculation, but got no definite answer. He and Alfred both felt very curious to know what it was; but though expectation was on tiptoe, it was iiot gratified. Edward assured them, however, that things were nearly ready, and that in a few days he would let them into the mysterious scheme. Oscar's uncle, from Brookdale, was now in the city, and was stopping for a few days at Mr. Preston's. He no sooner arrived, than Oscar applied to his parents for permission to return with him to Maine ; but they did not give much encouragement to his proposal, al- thouo-h his uncle said he should hke to have him make THE POLICEMAN. 309 his fiiraily another visit. Oscar, however, daily renewed his request, for he believed that he should yet accom- plish his object by teasing. The day before Oscar's uncle was to return to his home, a gentleman called into Mr. Pi-eston's store, and told him he wished to see him alone. Having with- drawn to a private room, the stranger introduced him- self as an officer of the police. " You have a son fourteen or fifteen years old ?" . in- quired the officer. " " Yes, I have," replied Mr. Preston. " Are you aware that he is getting into bad com- pany ?'• continued the officer. " No, sir," said Mr. Preston. " Well," resumed the other, " I 've called to acquaint you of a few facts that have come to my knowledge, and you can act in the matter as you think best. There is a young fellow stopping at the Hotel, who came to this city a few weeks ago, and who calls himself Edward Mixer. He is a little larger than your son, and is well dressed, and looks like a respectable boy ; but for a week or two past we have suspected that he was a rogue. He hangs around the railroad 310 DISCLOSURES. depots, and as several persons have had their pockets picked, when getting- out of the cars, since he made his appearance, we began to watch him. We have got no evidence against him yet ; but yesterday I pointed hira out to a New York policeman, who happened to be here, and he says he knows him well. It seems he is a regular pickpocket by profession, and has served a term at Black well's Island.* He was liberated last month, and came on here to follow the business where he isn't known. But we keep a sharp eye on him, and as we have noticed that your son is quite intimate with him, I thought it my duty to inform you of it. I don't suppose your boy knows the real character of this fellow, or has anything to do with his roguery ; but it is n't safe for him to be in such company, and I thought you ought to know what is going on." Mr. Preston thanked the officer very cordially for the information, and promised to see that Oscar was imme- diately put out of the way of danger from this source. When he went home at noon, he had a long private interview with his son, and informed him of the disclos- ures the officer had made. Oscar was not a little * The iSTew York Penitentiary. E EPR O OF S. 311 astonished to learn that the genteel and sociable N.-d Mixer, whose company he prized so highly, was a thief by trade, and was fresh from a prison. He assured his father that he knew nothing of all this. This was true; but after all Oscar knew too much of the character of Ned to believe him to be a good boy, or a safe com- panion. He had heard him swear and lie. He had also heard him sneer at virtue, and boast of deeds that no well-ordered conscience would approve. And yet he courted his company, and considered him a " capital fellow" ! O, foolish boy ! But Oscar's plea of ignorance did not fully excuse him, even in the eye of his father, who did not know how little force that plea really had. " I don't suppose you knew his character," said Mr. Preston ; " but are there not good boys enough in the neighborhood for you-to associate with — boys that have always lived here and are well known — without your cultivating the acquaintance of every straggler and vagabond that comes along? I wish you would not make yourself so intimate with Tom, Dick, and Harry, before you know anything about them. I 've cautioned you against this a good many times, and now I hope 312 Oscar's departure. that you '11 see there is some cause for it. If this inti- macy had gone on a few weeks longer, it might have ruined you and disgraced your mother and me." After consultation with his wife and brother, Mr. Preston concluded to let Oscar go down to Brookdale, and remain until they could make some permanent ar- rangements for him elsewhere. He did not think it safe for him to remain longer exposed to the tempta- tions of the city. He charged Oscar not. to speak again to Ned, and not to inform any one of the facts he had learned about him, lest it might thwart the efforts of the police to detect his rogueries. On second thought, he concluded to take Oscar to the store with him that afternoon, to prevent the possibility of an interview be- tween him and I*Ted. • Oscar thus remained under the eye of his father through the day. In the evening he packed his valise for the journey, and the next morning he started for Brookdale with his uncle. A day or two after Oscar 's departure, Ned was ar- rested in the act of picking a lady's pocket at a rail- road depot. Being unable to obtain bail, he was com- mitted for trial. When his case came up in court, he was brought in guilty ; and it appearing, from the tes- CONCLUSION. 313 timony of the ofBcers, that, though young, he was quite old in crime, he was sentenced to one year in the House of Correction. Oscar never ascertained the nature of Ned 's "grand speculation," and probably it was well for him that he did not. Had he been let into the secret, and had the scheme been carried into effect at the time it was first talked of, I might have been obliged to add another and a still sadder chapter to t)-is history of " the boy 27 THE E N B^ VALUABLE WOEKS FOR THE YOUIVG. YOUXG AMEEICAXG ABROAD ; or, Vacation in Europe : the llesults of a Tour throi'^h Great Britain, France, Holland, Belgium, Germany, and Switzerland. I'y John Overton Choules, D. D., and his Pupils. With Eleqant L'li'strAtions. 16mo, cloth, 75 cts. A highly entertaining work embra'^ii'g lixore real information, such as every one wishes to know about Europe, than any other book of travels ever published. Three intelligent lads, who knew how to use their eyes, accompanied their tutor on a European tour ; and, from a carefulh'-kept journal, they wrote out, in a series of letters to a favorite companion in study, .it liome, their impressions ot the most re- markable places en route. Th3 pencillincs are genuine and unaffected, and in all respects form an interesting and ius'^ructive record of travel.— Sartam's Magazine. One of the most instructive and delightful Inoks of the age. — Southern Lit. Gaz. Boys, here is a book that will suit you exacCy- I^ is a series of letters from certain boys travelling in Europe to their class'^ates L.\ Ihis oountry. It will LToprove your knowledge and amuse you during long Winter rights. — Methodist Prot, It is worth much more than many a larger and iKi >re pretenticua Volume, fol' giviii£l a daguerreotype of things abroad. — Cong ' ''yation 'Zisi. A beautiful book for young people, unlike any thin^; VC have e^'tX -loen. — Ch. Ob- Most interesting book that can be put irto Jhe han( "st^f tl^ younf. - Olive Lrmi.-h. The best book of foreign travel for youth to be founo'. i^ tie vhoK^ i""i,ige of AmO can literature. — Buffalo Morning Express. THE ISLAND HOME; or, the YouPfe' CastaV/^ys. By Christopher Ro.aiaunt, Esq. With Eleganl Tk-s, ration ?. 75 cts. The best and prettiest book for boys that we have lately se'u — .Boston Post. A stirring and unique work. It will interest the Jut^nilc )7ien rasv'j. — Oiire Br. Delightful narrative of the adventures of six boys wt > put to soa f ^ an open boat- and were drifted to a desert island, where they lived in the mannor of ilobinsou Qrw Boe. — ^\ Y. Com. A book of great interest, and one which will be a treat to any boy ^'H^'uz Circle. The young will pore over its pages with almost enchan(ed interest.— T)-'^nicript. A modern Robinson Crusoe' story, without the dreary solitude of that lamc-is here It will amuse and instruct the young in no ordinary degree. — &!'f//e)r Z'.t. Gazette A story that bids fair to rival the/ar-famed Robinson Crusoe. V/e becom: as t^nch interested in the Max, Johnn}', Arthur, and the rest of the goodly company, ps iC the Swiss Family Robinson. - Sartain's Magazine. THE AMERICAN STATESMAN ; or, Illustrations of tnh Life and Character of Daniel Webster, for the Entertainment an(^ Instruction of American Youth. By the Rev. Joseph Ban^-'ARD, au- tiiorof " Plymouth and the Pilgrims," "Novelties of the New World," " Romance of American History," etc. With elegant Illustrations. 75c. 1^- A work of great interest, presenting a sketch of the most striking and impor- tant events which occurred in the history of the distinguished statesman, Daniel Webster, avoiding entirely all points of apolitical character ; holding up to view, for the admiration and emul.ntion of American youth, only bis commendable traits of charncter. It is just such a work as every American patriot would wish his cliildren to read and reflect upon. W THE CAPTIVE IN PATAGONIA; OR LIFE AMONG THE GIANTS. By Benjamin F. Bourne. With Illustrations. 12mo, cloth, 85 cts. This work, by Captain Bourne, — who was talten captive and retained three months by tlie Patagonians, — gives an account of his capture and final escape; a description of tliis strange people ; their manners, customs, habits, pursuits; the country, its soil productions, etc., of which little or nothing has heretofore been known, es- A work of thrilling interest, and of instruction to every class of readers. Anj' book, descriptive of a country which is almost like fable land to the civilized world, must possess great interest; but this work, besides liaving this attraction, is written with mucli vigor and spirit, and is replete with a varietj^ of interesting facts, icscriptive oJ the manners, customs, character, etc., of the Patagonians. — Sai: Jour. A work of thrilling interest, and bids fair to be another Uncle Tom's Cabin. Cap- tain Bourne is well known and highly respected in this community ; and the narra- tive of his strange adventures, startling and romantic as they may seem, can be relied upon as strictly true. — Santucket Eagle. We have seldom read a work of such intense interest. — X. H. Sentinel. This is a narrative of great interest. — Phil. Ch. Observer. We question whether the scenes, tri.ils, hardships, adventures, etc., could have been more vividly drawn had they emanated from the pen of an Ieving or a Coopek. — Rutland ( Vt.) Herald. The author is known as a respectable man, and one of high integrity ; and from Jiis own experience has given particulars of the manners, customs, habits, and pursuits of the natives. It is a thrilling narrative, and as exciting as Typee. — Newi^ort Merc. No work of romance can exceed to enchain the mind and awaken interest. — Cong, Seldom, if ever, have we perused a work with so intense an interest. No work of romance can excel it in power to enchant the mind, and awaken a nervous desu-e to possess the valuable information whicli it communicates. — Amherst Express. Having begun it one evening, we would not quit until the book had been finished. — 2Io7itpelier Journal. Uncle Tom may stand aside for the present. Sirs. Stowe may herself, as well as her readers, listen to the tale of a New Bedford sailor. His narrative is one that can- not fail to move both to smiles and tears, — containing touches of the broadest and most genial humor, as well as passages of simple pathos, wliich dissolve the soul in sympathy. — B. H. Aurora. Possessing all the interest of real adventure, with all the atti-activeness of romance, we do not wonder at its popularity. — Boston Atlas. ' ^ye have never before perused any pei-sonaJ narrative that has interested us as this one. — Fountain and Journal, Me. AYe have scarcely been able to leave its attractive pages. If the reader wishes to be amused, instructed, delighted, and benefited, he cannot do better than to procure a copy. — Gardiner Evening Transcript. THE HISTORY OF BANKING; with a Comprehensive Account of the Origin, Rise, and Progress of the Banks of England, Ire- land, and Scotland. B.v William John Lawson. First American Edition. Revised, with numerous additions. By J. Smith Homans, Editor of Bankers' Magazine. 1 vol. octavo, 2,00. C3~ A novel book, yet interesting and instructive ; containing anecdotes of men who have figured largely in the business, cases of forgeries, counterfeits, detections, trials, etc. R VALUABLE WORKS FOR THE YOUKG. BY EEV. HAEVSY ITEWCOMB. nO^Y TO BE A MAN -, a Book for Boys, containing Useful Hints on the Formation of Cliaracter. Cloth, gilt, 50 cts. "My design in writins has been to contribute something towards forming tlie char- acter of those who are to be our future electors, legislators, governors, judges, minis- ters, la^\ycrs, and physicians, — after the best model. It is intended for boys — or, if j'ou please, for young gentlemen, in early youth." — Preface. " How to be a IMan " is an inimitable little volume. AVe desire that it be widely cir- culated. It sliould be put into the hands of every youth in the land. — Tenn. Lap. HOW TO BE A LADY ; a Book for Girls, containing Useful Hints on tlie Formation of Character. Cloth, gilt, 50 cts. " Having daughters of his own, and having been many years employed in -writing for the young, he liopes to offer some good advice, in an entertaining way, for girls or misses, between the ages of eight and tifteon. His object is, to assist them in forming their characters upon the best model; that they may become well-bred, intelligent, re- fined, and good ; and then they will be real ladies, in the highest sense." — Preface. Parents will consult the interests of their daughters, for time and eternity, in mak- ing them acquainted witli this attractive and most useful volume. — X. Y. Ecangelkt. The following Xotices apply to hotli the above Volumes. It would be better for tlie next generation if every youth would "read, learn, and inwardly digest " the cont jnts of these volumes. — X. Y. Commercial. These volumes contain much matter which is truly valuable. — J/er. Jowz-na/. Thoy contain wise and important counsels and cautions, adapted to the young, and made entertaining by the interesting style and illustrations of the autlior. They are tine mirrors, in which are reflected the prominent lineaments of the dirisfian jiouncj gentleman and young lady. Elegant lorcseuts for the young. — American Pulpit. Xcwcomb's books are excellent. We are pleased to commend them. — X. Y. Obs. They are books well calculated to do good. - Phil. Ch. Chronicle. Common-sense, practical hints on the formation of character and habits, and are adapted to the improvement of youth. — Mothers' Jounml. ANECDOTES EOR BOYS; Entertaining Anecdotes and Narratives, illustrative of Principles and Character. ISmo, gilt, 42 cts. ANECDOTES EOR GIRLS ; Entertaining Anecdotes and Narratives, illustrative of Principles and Character. 18mo, gilt, 42 cts. Interesting and instructive, without being fictitious. The anecdotes are many, short, and spirited, with a moral drawn from each, adapted to every age, condition, and duty of life. We commend them to families and schools. -- Albany Spectator. Works of great value, for a truth or principle is sooner instilled into the j^onthful heart by an anecdote, than in any other way. They are well selected. — Pv'g Gaz. Nothing has a greater interest for a youthful mind than a well-told story, and no medium of conveying moral instructions so attractive or so successful. Tlie influ- ence is far more powerful when the child is assured tliat they are <»■?(?. We cannot too strongly recommend them to parents. — Western Continent, Baltimore. V MY FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF ENGLx\.ND AND ITS PEOPLE. By Hugh Miller, author of " Old Red Sandstone," " Foot- prints of the Creator," etc., with a fine likeness of tlie author. 12mo, 1,00. Let not the careless reader imagine, from the title of this book, that it is a common book of travels, on the contrary, it is a very remarkable one, both in design, spi-it, and execution. The facts recorded, and the views advanced in this book, are so fresh, vivid, and natural, that we cannot but commend it as a treasure, both of information and entertainment. — WilliJi's Home Jovrnul. This is a noble book, worthy of the author of the Footprints of the Creator and the Old Red Sandstone, because it is seasoned with tlie same power of vivid description, the same minuteness of observation, and soundness of criticism, and the same genial piety. "\Ve liave read it with deep interest, and with ardent admiration of the au- thor's temper and genius. It is almosi impossible to laj' tlie book down, even to at- tend to more pressing matters. It is, without compliment or hyperbole, a most de- lightful volume. — X. T. Commercial. This is a most amusing and instructive book, by a master hand. — Bern. Rev. The author of this work proved himself, in the Footprints of the Creator, one of the most original thinkers and powerful writers of the age. In the volume before us he adds new laurels to his reputation. Whoever wishes to understand the character of VnQ present race of Englishmen, as contradistinguished from past generations; to comprehend tlie workings of political, social, and religious agitation in the minds, not of the nobility or gentry, but of the peojile, will discover that, in this volume, he has found a treasure. — Peterson's Zlagazine. His eyes were open to see, and his ears to hear, every thing ; and, as the result of what he saw and heard in " merrie " England, he has made one of the most spirited and attractive volumes of travels and observations that we have met with. — Trav. Hi gh Miller is one of the most agreeable, entertaining, and instructive writers of the age. We know of no work in England so full of adaptedness to the age as this. It opens up clearly to view the condition of its various classes, sheds new light into its social, moral, and religious history, its geological peculiai-ities, and draws conclu- 6io;is of great \a.\\xQ. — Albamj Spectator, The author, one of the most remarkable men of the age, arranged for this journey into England, expecting to " lodge in humble cottages, and wear a humble dress, and see what was to be seen by humble men only, — society without its mask." Such an observer might be expected to bring to view a thousand things unknown, or partially known before ; and abundantly does he fulfil this expectation. It is one of the most absorbing books of the time. — Portland Ch. Jlirror. NEW WORK. MY SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS; OR THE STORY OF MY EDUCATION. Br Hugh jNTiller, author of " Footprints of the Creator," " Old Red Sandstone," " First Impressions of England,'' etc. 12nio, cl. This is a personal narrative of a decph' interesting and instructive character, con- cerning one of the most remarkable men of the age. Ko one who purchases this book will have occasion to regret it, our word for it ! U ]Li:AS\:^T PAGES FOR YOUiNG TEOPLE ; OK, BOOK OF HOME EDUCATION AND ENTERTAINMENT. Bv S. Pkout Newcombe. With numerous Illustrations. 75c. tsr This work is designed for the pleasure and profit of young people ; and, as the title indicates, intended as an aid to Home Education. The great variety of subjects presented, consisting of Moral Lessons, Natural History, History, Travels, Physical Geography, Object Lessons, Drawing and Perspective, Music. Poetry, etc., and withal, so skilfully treated as to make truth simple and attractive, renders it an admirable family book for winter evenings and summer days. A very excellent book. History, philosophy, science, stories, and descriptions of games are all mingled together, and he who does not like the compound must be hard ) to please. — Fost. [ Pleasant pages, containing inform.ation on a great variety of subjects. Here we have science and art made plain and captivating. The lessons in drawing and per- spective alone are worth the price of the volume. And then a thousand questions which the intelligent young mind raises are here answered. — Parlor Magazine. This is indeed a home book of endless amusement. — Boston Atlas. An admirable book of home education. We commend it to families. — ATb. Spec. A work admirably adapted to the instruction and amusement of the young. — Reg. A pleasant book, full of all sorts of information upon all sorts of subjects.— Jo w. One of the most delightful works for young people we have ever met with. Few- persons, young or old, could examine its pages without gaining knowledge of a useful kind. It is one of the most successful combinations of the pleasant with the useful to be found. — Daily Advertiser. A book of not only " pleasant pages," but of singularly instructive pflges. Even people not so very young might be profited by its perusal. — South Boston Gazette. It presents much solid information, and opens before the young new fields of ob- servation. The youngsters will clap their hands with joy. - Scientific American. There is a great deal of valuable information communicated in a very simple and easy way. While it is full of useful instruction to children, it is also suggestive to those who are called to conduct their education.— Puritan Recorder. We like this book : it is well fitted for the family library. The young hke facts ; when these arc set forth in a pleasant way, the interest is greater than fiction ever awakens, unless the fiction is made to appear hke truth. — Godey's Ladies' Book. THE GUIDING STAR ; or, The Bible God's Message. By Louisa Payson Hopkins. With Frontispiece. 16mo, cloth, 50 cts. An excellent work to put into the hands of youth. It is written in conversational style, and opens up most beautifully, and with great simplicity, the great leading ev- idences that the Bible contains God's message to man. Those seeking after truth will find it worthy of frequent perusal.— Dk. Speague, in Albany Spectator. We cordially commend the work to parents, children, and Sabbath schools. — Cong. This volume should be in the hands of every youthful reader, and adult persons would find it not only interesting, but instructive. — Ch. Chron. The popular author of this book has conferred a favor on the public, for which she deserves something more than thanlcs.— Ch. Secretary. One of the most valuable books for youth that we have seen. — Cong. Journal. A book of more than common excellence. How often have we wished that all the youth of our land might become familiar with its contents- — ^h. Mirror. X CHAMBERS'S WORKS. CHAMBERS'S HOME BOOK AJsD POCKET MISCEL- LANY. Containing a Choice Selection of Interesting and Instructive Eeading for the Old and the Yoking. Six vols. 16nio, cloth, 3,00. This work is considered fully equal, if not superior, to either of the Chambers's other works in interest, and, like them, contains a vast fund of valuable information. Following somewhat the plan of the "Miscellany," it is admirably adiipted to the echool or the family library, furnishing ample variety for every class of readers, both >ld and young. We do not know how it is possible to publish so much good reading matter at such alow price. "SVe speak a good word for the literary excellence of the stories in tliis ■work ; we hope our people will introduce it into all their families, in order to drive away the miserable flashy-trashy stuff so often found in the hands of our young people of both sexes. — Scientific American. Both an entertaining and instructive work, as it is a very cheap one. — Puritan Bee. It cannot but have an extensive circulation. — Albany Exin-ess. Of all the series of cheap books, this promises to be the best — Bangor Mercury. If any person wishes to read for amusement or profit, to kill time or improve it, get " Chambers's Home Book." — Chicago Times. The Chambers are confessedly the best caterers for popular and useful reading in the world. — Willis's Home JournaL A very entertaining, instructive, and popular work. — iT. Y. Commercial. The articles are of that attractive sort which suits us in moods of indolence when Tre would linger half way between wakefulness and sleep. They require just thought and activity enough to keep our feet from the land of Nod, without forcing us to run, ^7alk, or even stand. — Eclectic, Portland. It is just the thing to amuse a leisure hour, and at the same time combines instruc- tion with amusement. — Borer Inquirer. ilessrs. Chambers, of Edinburgh, have become famous wherever the English lan- guage is spoken and read, for their interesting and instructive publications. They combine instruction with amusement, and throughout they breathe a spirit of the purest morality. — Chicago Tribune. CHAMBERS'S REPOSITORY OE INSTRUCTIVE AND AMUSING PAPERS. With Illustrations. An entirely New Series, containing Original Articles, p. 260, IGmo, cloth, per vol. 50 cents. The Messrs. Chambers have recently commenced the publication of this work, un- der the title of "Chambers's Repositoky of Ixsteuctive a.vd Amusing Tracts," similar in style, etc., to tlie " Miscellany," which has maintained an enor- mous circulation of more than eighty thousand copies ia England, and has already reached nearly the same in this country. Arrangements have been made by the ' American publishers, to issue the work simultaneously with the English edition, a volume every two months, to continue until the whole series is completed. Each volume complete in itself, and will be sold in sets or single volumes. ^r Commendatory Letters, Reviews, Notices, &c., of each of Chambers's works, sufficient to make a good sized duodecimo volume, have been received by the pub- lishers, but room here will only allow giving a specimen of the vast multitude at hand. They