CHAPTER XXXI.
FIGHT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT.
Dick Lee was an unwise boy that afternoon.
He knew how to turn his hand to a great many things, thanks to hishome-training; and a woodpile was one of the matters he had learned howto deal with, but he had not taken hold of that of Mrs. Myers with anyheart for his work.
It was simply impossible for him to imagine that he was pulling in fish,or having any other kind of fun, while he was sawing wood, or even whilesplitting it.
There was, however, something almost vicious in the way he came downwith his axe upon some of the more obstinate pieces.
"He will be a very useful boy," remarked Mrs. Myers, as she watched himfrom the window; "but I fear I shall have some difficulty with theothers. They are very much inclined to be uppish."
Dick toiled faithfully; and he felt it as a kind of relief, late in theday, to be sent to the grocery-store, at the lower end of the village,with a basket that was to bring home the usual Saturday assortment forMrs. Myers.
He did well enough in going; but on his way home, if the truth must betold, Dick Lee loitered dreadfully. It was so nice a day, and he hadbeen so long at his woodpile, and he had had so little time to call hisown that week.
Over on the green, the boys of the village were playing a sort of"match-game" of base-ball, with a picked nine from the academy; andthere seemed no reason why Dick and his basket should not stroll alonginside the barrier-fence of the green, and see them play it.
That was where his unwisdom showed itself; for among the boys who werenot playing were Joe and Fuz Hart and all their "crowd," and this wasthe first time they had seen Dick on the green "all alone."
That would have been quite enough of itself, considering how black hewas, and that he was a "new boy" at the academy; but the additional factthat he had his basket on his arm opened the way to trouble for him allthe sooner.
He was standing still, on the walk near the fence, gazing at the battingand catching with so deep an interest that his mouth would stay open,when he suddenly found himself "surrounded."
"Hullo, Dick, what you got in your basket?"
"Groceries! Groceries! Fresh from Afriky."
"Let's see 'em."
"Jes' you keep off, now."
"Give us that basket."
"Don't you tech a thing!"
"What you got, Midnight?"
"None ob youah business. I's 'tendin' to mine. Put dat back, now, willyou?"
Dick had promptly retreated against the fence, in his surprise andvexation, and was defending himself and his cargo vigorously, but he wassadly outnumbered.
They were a cowardly lot: for their all but helpless victim had evenreceived several sharp blows, in return for his grasps and pushes; andthe matter threatened to end unpleasantly for him, when suddenly JoeHart felt his feet jerked from under him. Down he went, and over wentFuz on top of him; and then there were four or five boys all in a heap,with Dick's basket upset just beyond them, and Dick himself divinghither and thither after its late contents, and exclaiming,--
"Cap'n Dab's come! I's all right now. Jes' let me pick up some ob deset'ings."
There was a resentful ring in the last remark, as if he were thinking ofsomething like war after the recovery of his groceries; but it wasindeed the voice of Dab Kinzer, shouting full and clear,--
"Pick 'em up, Dick! we're just in time."
A boy somewhat larger than the rest, a good half-head taller thanDabney, but with a somewhat pasty and unhealthy complexion, had selectedFord Foster, as the shortest of the new arrivals, and demanded,--
"What are you meddling for?" just as he aimed a clumsy blow at his head.That blow did not hit Ford; but a shorter young ruffian had also pickedhim out, perhaps for the same reason, and the hit he aimed reached itsmark, for Ford had no extra pair of arms behind to box with. FrankHarley seemed, just then, to be remarkably busy with the heap of boys onthe ground.
"Spat!"--that was the way something sounded; and Dab Kinzer added,--
"Go for that fellow on the grass, Ford: I'll take care of the long one."
"You will,--will you?"
Spat--spat--spat!
"Oh! I see: you don't know how to box; weak in the arms too. Better gohome."
The tall boy was stepping backwards quite rapidly, with one hand on hisnose, and the other swinging wildly in the air above him; and Ford waskeeping the "fellow on the grass" from getting up, when all the noisearound them suddenly ceased.
"Dr. Brandegee!"
"Where? Where?"
"Coming across the green, at the upper end."
"He's coming this way."
Several of the late assailants started on a run at once; but Dab Kinzerhad caught a sharp whisper from Frank Harley, and he shouted,--
"No you won't, Joe Hart! Hold on, Fuz! That other chap must stay too.Give Dick back his groceries."
"Dey's hooked a pile ob 'em," said Dick, his eyes dancing with triumph."Jes' make 'em hand ober."
"Do you mean to say we've been stealing?" fiercely demanded Joe.
"What, me? me, steal?" almost gasped Fuz.
"They wouldn't do such a thing as that," said Ford, not quitecomprehending the situation.
"That's it," said Dab: "let 'em empty their pockets"--
Joe was indignantly turning inside out the side pockets of his neat"cut-away," and a small, brown-paper-covered parcel dropped upon theground.
"Dem's de cloves," shouted Dick, as he darted forward, and picked it up.
The fingers of Fuz almost unconsciously imitated those of his elderbrother, and with a like result.
"Dat's de cinnamon. If de oder feller didn't git de tea an' desal'ratus! Whar's de nutmegs?"
These, too, were forthcoming, as well as a paper of "indigo blue" forthe next Monday's washing, and other items which testified strongly asto "how much at a time" Mrs. Myers was in the habit of buying.
It was all over in less than half a minute, but Dick's assailants lookedvery much as if they wanted to sink right down through the grass.
"Go home, Joseph," said Ford; "go home, Foster. I'll write to yourfather that you're out of these things at your boarding-house. We _buy_all our groceries, where we live."
"I never touched a thing," roared Joe. "Somebody put 'em in my pockets."
"Don't say any thing more, Joseph," said Ford calmly. "If you don't getenough to eat, come over to our house: we won't let you starve. Give youall the bluing you want too."
They did not seem to need any just then; and there was such a crowd ofboys gathering that they were glad to take Ford's advice, and hurryaway. Even then a good deal more attention might have been paid them,all around, but for the excitement created in the mind of every boy wholooked at the great strings of fish Dab and his friends had dropped whenthey went in to the rescue of Dick Lee.
Questions as to where they were caught, and how, poured upon the youngfishermen so fast that it was not easy to dodge them all at once, orprevent a general stampede of the academy boys to Green Pond.
"They'd use up the boat in one day, and all the fish in the next," saidDab to Frank; "but where'd you learn to do what you did for Fuz andJoe?"
"Sleight-of-hand? Oh! one of father's Hindu converts had been a juggler.He taught me. They're the best in the world, but father doesn't like meto do much of it. We can have some fun with it yet, though. It came tome like a flash when I saw those things on the ground."
"Served 'em right. Spoiling 'em on the ground was next thing tostealing."
"Come on, boys," said Ford. "It's after five o'clock."
They were all glad to escape from the crowd, especially Dick Lee; and itwas not until they were across the street that the tall form of Dr.Brandegee came slowly down past the ball-players. He seemed particularlyinterested in that game. It was currently reported, indeed, that he hadbeen a first-class athlete in his younger days, and that he took a quiethalf-hour in the morning with his dumb-bells now, before doing any thingat all with his Greek and Latin.
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The "short-stop" was a well-built, sunburned student of at least twenty;and the doctor noticed how neatly he had been doing his work.
"Wish I could catch an equation as well as I can a ball," said the youngfellow, coloring a little, perhaps at the memory of something inmathematics which had "got by him."
"You will, I think. By the way, didn't I see what looked like adisturbance down here among the boys, just now?"
"Disturbance? Well, yes, I should say there was. Came near interruptingthe game."
"Any thing serious?"
"Well, it might have been. Some of the boys made a set on that littlecolored chap. Mean thing to do. I'd ha' stopped it myself; but thatKinzer boy, and the other two that board with Mrs. Myers, they clearedit all up in no time."
"No fighting, I hope?"
"Well, no; but I tell you what, doctor, the rest of the boys'll let thatnigger alone. His friends can box."
"Ah, yes! I understand. They stood by him. Wouldn't see him imposedupon."
"They just wouldn't. They're prime little chaps. The other boys werebigger'n they are. I'd ha' helped 'em, but they didn't need any help."
"No. Yes,--I see. It won't do to have any fighting, but then! H'm! Theystood right by him! Good-afternoon, Mr. Pulsifer."
"Good-afternoon, Dr. Brandegee. There, if he hasn't made me lose a hit!I'd ha' fetched it. But I'm glad I had a chance to set him right aboutthat scrimmage. I thought those three chaps were kind o' stuck up, buteverybody'll know where to place 'em now."
There was nothing like anger, or even disapproval, on Dr. Brandegee'sface when he walked away; but he was muttering,--
"Know how to box, do they? I thought I saw something like it. They're afine lot of young fellows. I must keep my eye on them. They'll be MENone of these days!"
They were only boys yet, however; and they were hardly arrived in frontof the kitchen-door before they began to make the proposed division ofthe fish.
Mrs. Myers came to meet Dick, and receive an account of his errand.
"You've been gone twice as long--I declare, Almira, come here and seethese fish. You have had wonderful luck, I must say. More'n we'll knowwhat to do with."
"I will attend to the cleaning of them," began Dabney; but Dickinterrupted him with,--
"Guess not, Cap'n Dab. I's cleaned loads ob fish. Won't be no time atall puttin' t'rough jes' a string or two."
"Dick will clean them," said Mrs. Myers; "but it's too late to cook anyfor supper."
She turned away into the house as she spoke, and took Almira with her.
"Now, boys," said Dabney, "we've just time, before supper, to go withthese other strings, and get back."
They would have been late indeed, if they had stopped to talk with everyone who wanted to admire Dab's big pickerel and Ford's remarkable bass;but a little good management brought them to Dr. Brandegee's in not muchmore than five times the number of minutes needed to walk the distance.The fish were handed to the door-opener with,--
"The compliments of Mr. Harley, Mr. Kinzer, and Mr. Foster," and a greatflourish of a bow from the latter, which could hardly be made to keepthat string company till the doctor should see it.
"Now for the minister's."
The good man himself replied to the ring at his door-bell; but Dabneywas half sorry he had consented to be spokesman this time.
"My young friends?" said Mr. Fallow inquiringly.
"Fish, sir," said Dab. "Some we caught to-day over in Green Pond. Wethought we'd bring you a mess of 'em."
He thought, too, without saying it,--
"Now I've made a mess of it. Why didn't I let Ford do it?"
"Thank you. Thank you, my young friends. Very kind and thoughtful. Won'tyou walk in?"
"No, sir, thank you. It's most supper-time. We must hurry back."
"Mary! Come and see these fish. Some very fine ones. Going? Indeed? Sawyou in church last Sunday. Hope I'll see you there again to morrow.Good-afternoon, my dear young friends."
"Good-afternoon, sir."
They walked away a little rapidly, but with a vivid and decidedlypleasant impression that they had given the pale-faced, earnest-eyedminister an extraordinary amount of comfort.
"The fish ain't worth much," said Ford. "It couldn't have been justthem!"
No, indeed, it was not, and they failed to make it out to theirsatisfaction; but it might have helped them if they had seen him handthe fish to "Mary," and say,--
"There, what do you think of that? The very boys I told you of."
"The ones you saw on the green, fighting?"
"Exactly. I must see Dr. Brandegee. They can't be altogether bad."
"Bad? No! There must be something about it. The doctor always knows. Hewill be able to explain it, I know."
Great was the confidence of the Grantley people in Dr. Brandegee, as toany and all things relating to "his boys;" and that of Mrs. Fallow wasnone the less when her husband returned from his evening call.
"Defending that colored boy? You don't say. The dear, brave littlefellows! Fighting is dreadful. Did any of them get hurt?"
"Hurt, dear? No; and they gave those young ruffians--H'm! Well--Davidhad to do a great deal of fighting, Mary, but we must not approvetoo."--
"My dear! I say they did right."
And the little woman's tired face flushed into sudden beauty, with herhonest enthusiasm over "those boys."
They had not reached the end of their day's experiences, however, whenthey left the minister's gate, or even when they arrived at their own.
At that very moment Mrs. Myers was once more standing in the kitchendoorway.
"Dick, as soon as you've had your supper, you may take one of thosestrings of fish over to Deacon Short's, and another to Mrs.Sunderland's. You may clean all the rest."
"Yes'm," said Dick vaguely, "but dar's on'y one string."
"Only one? Where are all the rest, I'd like to know?"
Dabney and his friends were around the corner of the house now, and herlast question was plainly directed to them.
"The rest of what, Mrs. Myers'?"
"Why, the fish. What have you done with them?"
"Oh! they're all right, Mrs. Myers," said Ford. "Fish are good forbrains. That's what we've done with 'em."
"Brains? What"--
"Exactly. Next to us three, the men that work their brains the hardestaround here are Mr. Fallow and my friend Dr. Brandegee."
"And you never asked me a word about it!"
"About what?" inquired Dabney. "I must say I don't quite understand. Doyou mean, about what we were to do with our fish?"
"Of course I do. I can't allow"--
She hesitated a moment, as if the next words were slow in coming; andDab helped her out with,--
"Can't allow what, Mrs. Myers?" and Ford added,--
"Now, Mrs. Myers, there's nothing healthier than fish. It won't hurteither of 'em. Is supper ready?"
"I hope it is," said Dab. "I'm getting hungry again."
Mrs. Myers looked at them in amazement; and so did Miss Almira, for, ifone thing was plainer than another, it was that neither of those threeboys understood the nature of her complaint. It did not seem to occur tothem, that she had, or could, or would claim any control over theresults of their day's fun; not even when she said,--
"I intended one string for Deacon Short, and another for Mrs.Sunderland"--
"Don't work their brains, Mrs. Myers," said Ford. "Don't need any fish.But then, if we have as good luck next time, we'll bear them in mind.We've kept enough pan-fish for breakfast, and the big ones'll be justthe thing for dinner."
That had been the plan of Mrs. Myers herself; for she had already saidto Almira,--
"It'll be a real saving, and the corned beef'll be just as good onMonday."
More talk would hardly improve such a case as that; and it was reallybeginning to dawn upon Mrs. Myers, that her three boy boarders had mindsand wills of their own, moreover, that they had not the most distantidea of failing to exercise them on every prope
r occasion.
CHAPTER XXXII.
OLD FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS OF HIS COME TO VISIT DABNEY.
"Boys," remarked Dab Kinzer, when they gathered in their own room aftersupper, "I can't say we've learned a great deal this first week; butwe've found a tiptop fishing-ground, and we've settled the Hart boys."
"Shouldn't wonder if Mrs. Myers feels a good deal more settled than shedid too," said Ford. "But I'm thinking what Frank Harley's going to dowith his fingers, when we can give him a chance. We've loads of funahead, or I'm mistaken."
"I won't try it on very often," said Frank. "Fun's fun, that's a fact;but I came here to learn something."
"My dear young friend," said Ford, with a sudden imitation of Mr.Fallow, "think of how much you've learned in seven days. Dab's beginningto know so much, he can't talk."
"I'm not just comfortable about Dick," said Dabney.
"Oh! he'll come out all right: the corn's mostly shelled, and thewoodpile can't last forever. He doesn't know how to run asewing-machine. She tried making him read aloud to her and Almira, lastnight; but Dick thinks she won't ask him to do it again. Don't betroubled about Richard: his future is safe."
Part of it undoubtedly; and the boys had "settled" more things forthemselves and him than those they mentioned.
They had settled their own position among the boys of the academy andthe village, old and young; for every soul of them had heard about "thebig fight on the green" before he went to bed that night. They hadsecured Dick Lee's position for him: not that they had given him a falseone, but that he would be safe to enjoy, almost unmolested, whateverposition his own conduct might earn for him. That was all any boy oughtto have, black or white.
They had done much, as Ford said, to settle their own position at theirboarding-house; but that was nothing of importance compared to theimpression they had made upon the large heart and brain of the statelyacademy principal. They had made a firm friend of him, and of otherswhose friendship was worth having.
All that was a great deal to have accomplished in one short week, butthere was much more that would require their immediate attention.
Books, fishing, lectures, base-ball, French, pigeon-shooting, elocution,kites, composition, nutting, and the academy debating society; and thelist of the future demands upon their time grew as they talked, untilFord exclaimed,--
"Hold on, boys: my brains won't stand any more till after I've eaten asupply of fish."
They ought all to have been able to think harder, after the next day'sbreakfast and dinner; but the "corned beef" came on Monday, and with it,as usual, came corn in other forms. "The farm" had done well that year,with that particular crop; but so had all the other farms, east andwest, and Mrs. Myers found her best market for her maize harvest at herown table. It would take a good while to dispose of what Dick hadalready shelled, and all she could do was to be liberal as to quantity.There was no fault to be found with her on that score, but Dabney didnot ask for any more recipes to send home to his mother.
The second week was much longer than the first. Saturday came aroundvery nearly in its own turn this time; but it brought with it such astorm of wind and rain as not only shut Green Pond out of all possiblecalculations, but kept the village green as well, clear of all boys.
It was a good time to write letters in, and those written were longones; but they did not contain a solitary complaint of any thing theboys had yet discovered in or about Grantley.
"Hamilton," said Mrs. Kinzer, after pondering a little over her letterwhen it came, "Dabney seems to be well satisfied."
"Mrs. Foster says Ford and Frank are."
"But I notice he doesn't say any thing about his appetite. I do hope heisn't losing it. He seems to be studying hard."
"Dabney? Lose his appetite in less than two weeks? No, mother Kinzer, itwould take him longer than that."
It was just one week later that he showed her a part of a curiousepistle he had himself received from Dab. It had evidently been writtenin a moment of what is called "confidence."
"I tell you what, Ham," he wrote, "mother doesn't know what can be donewith corn. Mrs. Myers does. She raised a heap of it, this year; and thethings she turns it into would drive a cook-book crazy. I've been givingthem Latin names; and Frank, he turns them into Hindustanee. It's realfun sometimes, but I sha'n't be the boy I was. I'm getting corned. Myhair is silkier, and my voice is husky. My ears are growing. I'd like afew clams and some fish, once in a while, just for a change. A crabwould taste wonderfully good. So would some oysters, and they don't haveany up here. We've had one good day's fishing, since we came; but we hadto go miles and miles after it. Now, don't you tell mother we don't getenough to eat. There's plenty of it, and you ought to see Mrs. Myerssmile when she passes the johnnycake. We're all trying to learn thatheavenly smile. Ford does it best. I think Dick Lee is getting a littlepale. Perhaps corn doesn't agree with him. He's learning fast, though,and so am I; but we have to work harder than Ford and Frank. I guess theHart boys know more than they did when they got here; and they didn'tlearn it all out of their books, either. We keep up our French and ourboxing; but oh, wouldn't I like to go for some blue-fish just now! Hasmother made any mince-pies yet? I've almost forgotten how they taste. Iwas going by a house, the other day, and I smelt some ham cooking. I wasreal glad I hadn't forgotten. I knew what it was, right away. Don't yoube afraid about my studying; for I'm at it all the while, except whenwe're playing ball or eating corn. They say they have sleighing hereearlier than we do, and more of it, and plenty of skating. Well, now,don't say any thing to mother about the corn; but won't I eat when I gethome! Yours all the while, DABNEY KINZER."
"Why, the poor fellow!" exclaimed Mrs. Kinzer. "It's enough to stop hisgrowth."
It was not many days after that, before Dabney received a couple ofboxes by express. The "marks" told where they came from; and he and theother boys carried them right up stairs, in the face of a kindsuggestion from Mrs. Myers that "they might take them right out into thekitchen, and open them there."
She had almost ceased from putting her wishes in any more dictatorialform; but she and Almira wondered exceedingly what might be the contentsof those boxes.
Dab was only a minute or so in finding out what was in one of them.
"Boiled ham! A whole one! Out with it, Frank. All that brownpaper,--why, it's a pair of chickens, all ready to roast."
"Something more's down under those slats," said Ford, in a tone of greatexcitement.
"Mince-pies! And they're not much mashed, either. It's wonderful howthey did pack them."
"Slats and shingles and paper," said Ford. "What can there be in thatother box?"
"Shall we eat first, or open it?"
"Open it! Open it! Maybe they've sent you some corn."
Opened it was, with a desperate display of energy.
"Ice!" said Frank Harley.
"Sawdust!" shouted Ford.
"Fish!" said Dabney. "Clams, oysters, crabs, lobsters."
Dick Lee had gazed in absolute silence up to that very moment; and allhe could say now was,--
"Ah-h-h! O-h-h-h! Jes' ain't dey fine!"
"Boys," said Dab, with a sort of loving look at the contents of thatbox, "do you suppose we can eat those fellows?"
"Eat 'em!" exclaimed Ford. "Why, after they're cooked!"
"Well, I s'pose we can; but I feel more like shaking hands with 'em allaround, just now. They're old friends and neighbors of mine, you know."
"Yes; but I guess we'd better eat them."
"Cap'n Dab," said Dick, "dey jes' knock all de correck pronounciationout ob me, dey does."
"Ford, Frank, I'll ask Mrs. Myers and Almira up here right away. Thoseoysters and clams have got to be eaten this very evening."
They did not need twice asking; and there was a thoughtful expression onthe face of Mrs. Myers when she looked from one box into the other. Itwas fairly on her tongue's end to suggest what share of those luxuriesshould be taken at once to Deacon Short's o
r Mrs. Sunderland's; but shestopped in time, for that thought was followed by another,--
"What could the boys have been writing home about her cooking and hertable?"
There might be something serious in it; for boarders were people whocame and went, boys or no boys, and Dab and his friends were just thekind of boys to "come and go." At all events, she could not object totheir having such a supply as that sent them; and she took up theresponsibility of all the cookery required, at once.
It was a feast while it lasted, and the effects of it upon the characterof Mrs. Myers's table were permanent.
There was no further danger that Dab's growth would be checked in anysuch manner as his mother had feared.
Nor was there any great doubt remaining as to the steadiness of hisgrowth in other ways, during his school days at Grantley; for he and hisfriends were now "settled;" and they had made that most importantsuccess in life,--a Good Beginning.
THE END.
Dab Kinzer: A Story of a Growing Boy Page 31
