Bolax, Imp or Angel—Which?

by Lester Chadwick

  CHAPTER IV.

  PLEASANT CONTROVERSY.

  Mr. Allen sat on the porch smoking, when Mr. Steck, the Lutheranminister, opened the gate and walked in. Mr. Allen greeted him cordiallyand invited him to be seated.

  The day was warm, but there was always a breeze on the corner of thatporch, where the odor of the honeysuckle and climbing roses, which gaveshade, made it a most inviting spot to rest.

  "Have a segar, Mr. Steck." "Thank you, Mr. Allen, I am glad to see youat home on a week day, it is so seldom you take a holiday." "Holidaysare not for men with a family to support; you may thank your stars, youare a bachelor." "That sounds as though you think I have a great shareof leisure time. Well, I acknowledge my duties in this village are notvery onerous, still I find enough to do. By the way, I have just been tosee Miss Ogden. It is wonderful how the poor girl clings to life. As Ileft her house, I met Amy and Bolax, the dear children asked so kindlyafter the dying girl, but Bo--now don't be offended Mr. Allen, I havealways taken a great interest in that boy having known him from a baby;he is wonderfully bright, makes such witty remarks," "and does suchtormenting mischief at times," interrupted Mr. Allen. "Well," continuedMr. Steck, "When I told the children how ill Miss Ogden was, Bo gave methis medal of St. Benedict, telling me to put it on the poor girl'sneck, and she would be sure to get well. I asked who told him that?Then Amy looked at me so earnestly and said: 'Oh, Saint Benedict cancure anybody. You know he was a great doctor when he was on earth, andhe was so good our Lord gave him power to cure people who wear hismedal.' 'Yes, and he cured Nannie,' said Bo, 'see I have the medal onher yet;' and lifting a daisy chain he showed me the medal on the goat'sneck." "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Mr. Allen, "that's so like Bolax, he is amixture of imp and angel."

  "Now my friend," continued Mr. Steck, "allow me to ask you, who havebeen brought up an Episcopalian, if you approve of such superstitions? Idid not suppose that educated Romanists entered into ridiculouspractices of this sort; putting faith in--well, I might as well say it:Idols!" "--Hold on, Mr. Steck, I am not versed in the theology of theCatholic Church, and do not try to account for a great many littlecustoms such as my little ones spoke about, but I'll venture to assertthey do not injure the souls or bodies of those who believe in them. Mywife never bothers me about her religion, never enters into controversy,although I have a notion, that on the sly, she is praying me into it."

  "And from what you say," remarked Mr. Steck, "I think her prayers arebeing heard. I don't object to the Catholic religion; I think many ofits doctrines are good and sound, but it would be more edifying to thegeneral run of Christians, if there were not so many superstitiouspractices allowed." "Come, now Mr. Steck do not condemn what you do notunderstand. I travel a great deal as you know, and often attendchurches of different denominations; but whenever I try to get anexplanation of their various beliefs, one and all answer me somewhat inthis manner: 'Well, I don't believe thus and so;' 'I don't approve ofthis or that doctrine,' etc. I never can get any of them to say rightout what they do believe. One point only do they all agree upon and thatis, condemnation of the Roman Catholic Church." Opening a memorandumbook, Mr. Allen took out a paper saying, "here is a hymn which I heardsung in a Campbellite Sunday School:

  "Come to me my little Children, Sing and raise your voices high; Sing of Jesus, not of Mary, Nor other popish patron saints; They can neither save nor help us, Nor attend to our Complaints; Tell your little popish neighbors How to Jesus they may go If they wish to get to Heaven, They must worship Him alone."

  "Very poor verse, but I copied it from one of the Hymn Books. Now, whatcan be gained by teaching children such absurdities? If you wereintimately acquainted with Catholic little ones, you would find theybring Jesus into their daily lives more than do those who are taught toridicule them."

  "Oh," said Mr. Steck, "I admit there are many ignorant preachers outWest, who think they honor God by abusing the Catholic religion, but younever hear me or Mr. Patton make use of an uncharitable word inconnection with any one religion."

  "Mr. Steck let me tell you that even the children of illiterate parents,who are practical Catholics, you will find able to answer questionsabout their religion, and keep Jesus in their thoughts. Just to give youan example: yesterday my wife went over to Miss Scrips and found hertying up a rosebush in the garden, the cook's little boy, about sevenyears old, held the branch for her, while doing this, he uttered a cryof pain, tears came into his eyes, but checking himself, he said: "Oh,if one thorn hurts so much how dreadful He must have suffered with Hishead all covered with thorns. Poor Jesus!"

  "Indeed," said Mr. Steck, "that was extraordinary. He must be anexceptional boy. Such a child will die young, or be a great preachersome day." "Well, I just tell this one instance," replied Mr. Allen, "tolet you see the impression made on the heart of Catholic children byconstantly keeping before them incidents in the life of Christ.

  "Papa! Papa!" was heard in the distance. Mr. Allen got up saying: "Thatsounds like Bolax." Going to the gate he saw a crowd of youngstersfollowing Bo, who was vainly trying to catch the goat. Nan was tearingdown the road with Roy, Buz and Don his pet dogs, in full chase afterher. It was too funny to see Nan turn on the dogs, stand on hind legsand with a loud Ma-a-a! start off again.

  "I wish I were a few years younger," said Mr. Steck, "I'd join in thechase." Mr. Allen tried to head Nan off, Bo kept yelling--"Papa make thedogs stop barking, it frightens poor Nan." In going to the rescue, Mr.Allen left the garden gate open, Nannie rushed in tearing over theflower beds, to the great dismay of the onlookers, especially Hetty whohad come out to see what the row was about, grumbling to herself: "Ifyo' flower beds is spiled, youse got yu' own self to blame, Mr. Allen,it ain't no sense in havin' so many live creters round de place no how."

  Pat came on the scene laughing in his good-natured way and catching thegoat led her off to the stable.

  "Don't whip poor Nannie," cried Bolax, "it wasn't her fault, it was thedogs that made her run through the flowers, but, oh--Pat don't whip themneither; it was the boys who sicked them on Nan." "I'll not bate any ofthem shure," said Pat, "Master Bo, it's yourself is the tender-heartedspalpeen after all." Mr. Steck patted the boy, who looked ready to cryand consoled him by promising him a ride on horse-back. "Good-bye, mylittle man. Good-bye Mr. Steck," said Mr. Allen, "come again wheneveryou want to see a circus."

  Papa did not say much about the wreck of his flower beds, seeing thedistress of his little boy. Hetty took him into the kitchen to comforthim and put on a clean blouse. Mamma, Aunt Lucy and Amy had been out allthe afternoon, so Bolax tried to amuse himself. Looking out of thewindow, he saw Buz, Roy and Don hunting something in the strawberrypatch. Off he started to see what they were after. To his surprise, allthree dogs were eating the nice big strawberries; he chased them out,and going through the fence went into the woods followed by the threerascals. Bo gathered all sorts of "plunder," as Hetty called histreasures.

  When Aunt Lucy came home, he called to her saying he had such abeautiful horrible bug to show her. "I know you'll like him, he's atremendous big fellow, I put him in your soap dish to save him for you."On opening the soap dish, however, the "beautiful horrible bug" wasnowhere to be seen, although Aunt Lucy looked carefully in every cornerand crevice for she did not fancy sleeping in a room with such company.

  To pacify Bolax for the loss of his treasure Aunt Lucy told him about astag-beetle her uncle had as a pet. "Uncle would put a drop of brandyand water in a spoon, and Mr. Beetle would sip a little, and then danceabout, sometimes he would get quite frolicsome, and behave in such afunny way, staggering round, going one-sided, try to fly and at lastgive it up and go into a sound sleep. When he awoke he would make abuzzing noise, stretch out a leg or two, then fly as well as ever. Unclekept him six months; I don't know how he happened to die, but onemorning he was stiff--we were all so sorry."

  Bolax listened, seeming quite interested, but when his aunt stoppedspeaking he began to whine: "But I want my beauti
ful horrible bug, Ijust do want him. Papa go upstairs and look for him, I had such troublecatching him in the woods. He has a red saddle under his black wings,and big horns, and stiff legs and red eyes. Please find him, Papa; Iwant to make a pet of him."

  Here Mamma came up on the porch, and hearing about her boy going intothe woods alone, was inclined to scold, as she had strictly forbiddenthe children to venture into lonely places without some one to watchover them. Bolax, then said, Adolph Layne had been with him. "Well,"said Mamma, "I'm glad to know that--no doubt, we will find your'beautiful horrible bug' in the morning. It cannot get away as thewindows are all screened. He may have the room to himself and Aunt Lucycan sleep in the spare room."

  Amy spied a Lady bug on the climbing rosebush, she caught it and gave itto her little brother to comfort him for his loss. Papa told thechildren never to harm a Lady bug because they are very useful insects."In fact," said he, "I would like to have them on all my vines andbushes, for they always feed on the plant lice, which infest ourchoicest flowers. Indeed, I never could think of a Lady bug as a mereinsect." "Oh!" said Amy, "why can't we call her Lady bird. She hasstrong little wings, and really seems like a tiny bird." "Well,"continued Papa, "when I was very small, I often caught the dear littlethings, and firmly believed they understood when I said: 'Lady bug flyaway home.' When one flew from my hand, I followed, watched her goinghome and found where she laid her eggs. She always selects a rosebush orhoneysuckle or a hop vine, because they are more likely than others tohave plant lice upon them. Lady bug's eggs are a bright yellow, small,flat and oval; when they are hatched out, the babies find their food allready for them.

  "At first, when just out of the egg, is the time the young ones eatmillions of plant lice; after a few weeks good feeding, they get fat,and round, and casting off their first skin appear in their shiningbeauty coats." "Thank you, Papa, dear," said Amy, I always did love'Lady birds,' but now I shall love them more than ever." "Papa, may Iask you, do you know anything about snakes?"

  "Snakes!" cried Mamma and Aunt Lucy. "Yes, Mamma dear, the poor thingseverybody hates them, and no one says a good word about them."

  "Ow! ow! help! for de Lord's sake!" It was Hetty's voice coming from thecellar. All rushed to the rescue, thinking the poor soul might havefallen. On opening the cellar door, Hetty was seen tumbling up thestairs, her eyes starting out of her head, scarcely able to articulate."Oh, Miss Allen, de debble is arter me. He down dere, I done seed himplain. Oh! Oh! I'm done frustrated to death!" All tried to pacify thefrightened creature, but it was no use. "I'se done gone dis time. Myheart's pumpin' out of me!" Mr. Allen went to see what could have givenHetty such a shock, when he too, gave a very undignified yell, as hecaught sight of a big black snake. Bolax ran to him, calling out, "WhyPapa, what is the matter, what made you screech?" "Don't come downhere," called Mr. Allen, "Lucy bring the poker." "Oh, what on earth isit, brother? A snake! I don't wonder Hetty is scared to death."

  "Oh, Papa, dear," called Bolax. "Don't kill him. Tommy Hoden gave him tome to put in the cellar to catch mice. I thought Hetty would be glad,but she is such a scare cat."

  Mrs. Allen told her sister to give Hetty some valerniate of ammonia toquiet her nerves, and let her rest for the evening; we will attend todinner; stay with her until she is soothed.

  "Bolax, come upstairs. What are we to do with you? Positively you muststop handling reptiles and insects; you will be poisoned some day."

  The little fellow listened to all his mother had to say, but seemedsurprised that every one found fault when he expected to be praised."Ma, dear," said he, "I didn't mean to frighten anyone. I'm not afraidof snakes, and Tommy Hoden is a good boy now, since you have him inCatechism class, and he wanted that snake for himself, but he spared itjust to please Hetty."

  "Well, dear, I believe you would not willingly give pain to Hetty, butyou are nearly six years old and it is time you should have some thoughtabout you, say your prayers and go to bed." Bo's prayer:

  Dear Jesus, Bless Hetty and don't let her be such a scare cat. HolyMother of Jesus, bless me and don't let me be doing wrong things when Imean to do right things; help all the poor and the sick, and all thepeople in the world and don't let anyone be cruel to animals. Blessevery one in the whole world, Amen. Oh, I forgot, bless Mamma and Papaand Sister and Auntie, but you know I always have them in my heart.Amen.