THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES

 
 ANTONY BRADE.
 
 Tb "Eop. 
 
 
 Tlop<{>vpfr) tidbit <Jf pai-fico? f capo? wpr) 
 
 Fata 6e (cvarcrrj xAotpi)!' <<7T<i^aTO n-oirji'. K.T.A. 
 
 [Here] smiles the purple spring's bloom-bearing time; 
 And swart earth does her glossy green hair trim ; 
 Decks with fresh leaflets every bursting limb. 
 Here drink the pure and quickening dew of morn 
 The laughing meads ; and the soft rose is born. 
 
 The shipmen, lithe, plough the wide-foaming seas, 
 Bellying their sails with frolic Zephyr's breeze. 
 
 And, aye, the brisk-tongued bird-race plies its song ; 
 Kingfishers seaward ; swallows, roofs among. 
 
 MELBAGROS, Idyll. To Spring.
 
 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 BY 
 
 ROBERT LOWELL, 
 
 AUTHOR OB "THE NEW PRIEST IN CONCEPTION BAY," ETC. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the j'ear 1874, by 
 
 ROBERT T. 8. LOWELL, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: 
 PRESS OF JOHK WILSON AND SON.
 
 FOR you who recall the fluttering of school-book leaves, 
 at desks now gone to dust, and the waving of sunny hair in 
 the air of long ago ; childhood's holy friendship and early 
 ambitions that were never lost; to whom the breezy hills 
 and mist-loving vales and crackling, frosty, winter-walks of 
 boyhood are still clear cut, up in the sky of thought, as 
 Marathon and Platsea, and sheeny with a part of the same 
 glory that wraps those earlier fields of history, for you who 
 have been boys, or are boys, or like boys, this book is lovingly 
 written.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGB 
 
 I. ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S SCHOOL AND EAST- 
 HAM 1 
 
 II. MYSTERY ABOUT ANTONY BRADE ... 11 
 
 III. TALK AT THE BONFIRE 16 
 
 IV. MRS. WADHAM is INTERESTED 27 
 
 V. THE BLACK WATCH 46 
 
 VI. THE BOY'S OWN ACCOUNT OF IT .... 52 
 
 VII. TOWNE'S PLAN 64 
 
 VIII. ON THE EDGE OF IT 81 
 
 IX. THE DOING 84 
 
 X. THE NEXT MORNING 97 
 
 XL MR. PARMENTER ATTRACTED TO THE 
 
 FLAME 107 
 
 XII. A DISTINGUISHED FOREIGNER, WHO, PER- 
 HAPS, HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT 114 
 
 XIII. MR. DON FOLLOWS IT UP A LITTLE . . . 123 
 
 XIV. MR. DON HAS HOLD OF A CLUE .... 131 
 XV. THE MAKING OF A LANGUAGE .... 138 
 
 XVI. MR. PARMENTER STUMBLES UPON A SPE- 
 CIMEN 150 
 
 XVII. MR. DON AND ANOTHER JOIN FORCES . . 161 
 
 XVIII. TRAPPING, AND SOME AFTER-TROUBLE. . 177
 
 \ 111 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I'AGB 
 
 XIX. SOME FIGHTIKG THAT WILL DISGUST 
 
 BRUISERS 199 
 
 XX. WHAT HAPPENED TO REMSEN'S WATCH; 
 
 AND TARLETON'S EXPERIENCE . . . 218 
 
 XXI. THE CAPUT MEETS BRADE 227 
 
 XXII. THE RECTOR OF THE PARISH AND ONB 
 
 OF HIS PEOPLE 234 
 
 XXHL A YOUNG REPROBATE 240 
 
 XXIV. A BREATH OF FRESH AIR 258 
 
 XXV. SOME BOYS VENTURE ON THE FAIR 
 
 SEA OF PHILOLOGY 262 
 
 XXVI. A FIELD-DAY OF THE TRUSTEES . . . 281 
 XXVII. MR. DON CALLS UPON MR. PARMENTER, 
 
 ON BUSINESS 293 
 
 XXVIIL THE ROSICRUCIANS 304 
 
 XXIX. THE TURKEY FOUND, BUT NOT THE SE- 
 CRET SOCIETY 819 
 
 XXX. MR. PARMENTER MORE THAN EVER 
 
 ACTIVE 325 
 
 XXXI. THE TRUSTEES MEET 332 
 
 XXXH. MRS. WADHAM'S PARTY 342 
 
 XXXIII. WHAT THE COUNT is TO BRADE . . . 376 
 
 XXXIV. BENEFACTORS' DAY 383 
 
 XXXV. THE MATCH ON THE ICE 395 
 
 XXXVI. OUR STORY is ENDED 411 
 
 XXXVII. A PURPOSE FOR LIFE ,416
 
 ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S SCHOOL AND EASTHAM. 
 
 ALTHOUGH our story lies at least as much among 
 grown-up people as among boys, yet we begin it among 
 these, because our hero happens to be one of them. 
 
 Saint Bartholomew's School in Eastham, or St. 
 Bart's, as it is called for shortness, or Bartlemas, as 
 the boys call it in kindly nickname, stands, or ought to 
 stand, on high ground of easy climbing, surrounded by 
 higher ground on all the colder sides. Below, between 
 it and the town, lies a pretty lake, three-quarters of a 
 mile or a mile across, shored with in-and-out grassy or 
 wooded slopes, green in summer, almost or quite to the 
 water's edge, on all sides but the eastern. On that shore 
 is a shelving beach of sand and gravel. Near that side 
 lies the highway going up northward, white against the 
 high bank of the lake. There is a green and pretty 
 winding lane at the western side ; and on the northern 
 bank, approached by an irregular path from the school- 
 buildings above, are two or three boat-houses, two of 
 which are surmounted by flag- staffs. 
 
 The school buildings, which are a good mass of brick, 
 make a pretty broad show, and are already kindly taken 
 
 1 A
 
 ANTONY URADE. 
 
 into fellowship by great Nature, although at first foreign ; 
 for her friendly grass has drawn up elose to their feet, 
 and She is encouraging woodbine and ivy to play, as 
 they do, gracefully and freely on the brick walls, while 
 awnings over windows, here and there, match, with 
 their green or blue stripes, the earth or sky. 
 
 The house is somewhat impressive in the daytime 
 by its size; and in the earlier hours of night glowing 
 with bright light through a long row of windows in the 
 lower story, and here and there above. 
 
 What may be called a lawn for it is a good stretch 
 of green, though broken by scattered trees and shrubs, 
 and clumps of trees and shrubs spreads outwards and 
 downwards to the bank of the lake. 
 
 About these school-buildings of St. Bart's there is a 
 story, a story not indeed so long as that of St. 
 Martin's Church in the Strand, or University College, 
 Oxford, or the Round Mill at Newport even, and yet a 
 story which might, with pains enough taken, be worked 
 up into romance. 
 
 These ample buildings the local memory reports to 
 have been first thrust up into the air, boldly and ambi- 
 tiously, among the standing and living things of the 
 universe, for a "hat manufactory;" and in that capacity 
 to have " made a failure of it," as the neighbors express 
 themselves. They were still standing up, empty and 
 desolate, among the other things of the universe, when 
 the infatuation about "The Midland Summer House" 
 went through that part of the country. 
 
 Under the influence of this epidemic, which rose and 
 spread like any fever,. one or two retired city-men, and 
 three or four brisk men still in business in the city, 
 but lodging and spending their spare time among the
 
 ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S SCHOOL. 
 
 fields and trees, had put in their few thousands apiece ; 
 a country merchant or two had been moved to do as 
 much ; and two or three scores of saving farmers and 
 other country people had put in their hundred, or their 
 fifty, or their less ; and so altogether they had turned the 
 biff building; into a hotel and boarding-house. The huge 
 
 a o o ~ 
 
 rooms had been cut up with partitions into dining-hall, 
 dance-hall, parlors, and chambers ; a wing, two-thirds 
 as long as the main building, and one story lower, had 
 been pushed back from the western end, and filled, like 
 a beehive, with small cells, called bedrooms, on both 
 sides of a long, narrow passage on each floor; verandas 
 had been run along the front and wing; and a consistent 
 cupola, above every thing, caught the fresh breezes and 
 surveyed the broad country. 
 
 " The Midland Summer House," when finished, was a 
 joy to the neighborhood, and a hope and expectation to 
 the shrewd investors, and the no less shrewd holders- 
 off; for it was to bring society to the city-men's fami- 
 lies, easy and profitable practice to the medical men, a 
 market for the country-people, employment to all the 
 washerwomen, chore-women, masons, carpenters, paint- 
 ers, and whom not? 
 
 Besides all this, it was to add one-half to the worth 
 of every foot of ground within five miles from that 
 centre, or, in other words, within a circle of ten miles 
 diameter. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Parmentcr, of Eastham, was very ener- 
 getic and public-spirited about it. Mr. Parmenter, once 
 a country merchant, had now for some years had a 
 handsome place in the city, where (without a sign) lie 
 dealt in choice foreign fruits and flowers, including, 
 somehow, the specialties of " Aqua-rose " and " Meli-
 
 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 trech." He had been twice married, and twice a 
 widower. His experience, as we see, had been large 
 and varied. 
 
 He, like the others, had invested his money ; and, for 
 his own good and theirs, was busy in all the planning 
 and building; and then had a chief voice in securing 
 one Mr. Sharon Andrews, a "bright-colored, pleasant- 
 spoken man, who was understood to have been making 
 money in keeping "The Great European Casino" at 
 the corner of Utopia and Back-bay Streets in Boston, 
 and was willing to come for a year or two to " set the 
 enterprise on its legs." 
 
 With this successful gentleman, things lived and 
 flourished at the Summer House through one season of 
 free invitations, and of neighborhood assessments of 
 milk, butter, and vegetables, in which Mr. Parmeuter, 
 and some of his rich city-men, bore their shares. 
 
 During this time its passages and doorways and 
 piazzas swarmed with guests; the roads of Eastharn 
 flashed, and were lively with carriages and saddle- 
 horses, and scarfs and ribbons ; the passages of tho 
 house were redolent with " Parmenter's Aqua-rose," and 
 all the tables bright with crystal vases of " Parmenter's 
 Melitrech." It had its " hops " and balls, and concerts, 
 sacred and others; it had its private theatricals, and 
 almost its oratorio, which two members of the Handel 
 and Haydn Society nearly succeeded in getting up ; it 
 had its moonlight serenades, and pic-nics, and chowders, 
 and clam-bakes, on the lake and its shores, and its 
 ramblers and strollers in the woods. In short, it had 
 all the forms of elegance and intelligence which are 
 
 o o 
 
 usually exhibited by a good many (not perhaps first- 
 rate) fashionable young men and women, and a few
 
 ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S SCHOOL. 
 
 "fast" young men and some foolish young women, 
 when they are enjoying themselves and showing them- 
 selves off in the sight of rustics. It wound up the season 
 with dinners of "The Agricultural Union," of which 
 Dr. Evans was president, and of " The Farmers' Re- 
 serves," of which Mr. Waite, manufacturer at Weston, 
 was president. It had paragraphs in the papers. It had 
 done something toward making a name. 
 
 The second year it advertised early, and opened a 
 little late, with the launch of the yacht "Iris" on the 
 lake, and a reunion of " The Three Counties' Medical 
 Association;" languished through three rainy weeks; 
 and then Mr. Farmenter, having called a meeting of all 
 the persons interested, and then having furnished them 
 with a reasonable feeding of cold chicken and pickles in 
 the dining-room of the hotel, addressed them all aa 
 fellow-investors with himself; proposed a plan by which 
 Mr. Sharon Andrews who had been absent for a few 
 days should accept an extraordinary opening just 
 offered him in Chicago, and a committee of their own 
 appointing should wind up the affairs of the Summer 
 House, and secure the buildings and property to the 
 common benefit of those concerned. One of the city- 
 men moved the appointment of three gentlemen whom 
 he named, a farmer, the merchant of the place, and 
 Mr. Parmenter; and, after the going over several 
 times of the whole matter, the committee was ap- 
 pointed. Almost everybody grumbled, especially those 
 who " had always said so when they first put in their 
 money." Mr. Parmenter undertook to " run the house " 
 for the two and a half months remaining, in connection 
 with its clerk ; he carried it through ; lost only eleven 
 hundred dollars, he said, where he had expected to lose,
 
 6 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 at the least, thirty-five hundred ; the buildings and 
 furniture, after a year or two, were sold by auction, in 
 lots to suit purchasers ; Mr. Parmenter had bought the 
 land and buildings, and the bulk of the household stun ; 
 and, within a month after that, Mr. Parmenter had got 
 together a set of gentlemen, of different professions and 
 more or less note, as a Board of Trustees for a school. 
 Within three months they had secured an Act of 
 Incorporation for St. Bartholomew's School, Eastham. 
 On the Board there were two ex-judges, Allen and 
 Pearson, of one court or other ; one law lecturer, 
 Pethrick; the Rev. Dr. Cruden Baxter, one of the 
 editors of "The Supplementary Cyclopedia of the 
 Bible," now abroad ; the Rev. Dr. Farwell, a member 
 of several Committees and Boards ; Dr. Button, whose 
 name we will spell, if we have occasion to use it, with 
 two w's, to show that the accent falls upon the last 
 syllable (Dr. Buttonn was once accountant in a boot- 
 factory, and now for many years a priest) ; the Rev. 
 Mr. Manson, rector of the little parish in Eastham, and 
 editor of "The Church Post," which he pleasantly called 
 a pillar of the church ; the Rev. Mr. Merrill, a long, 
 sober-looking clergyman, member of half as many 
 Boards and Committees as Dr. Farwell ; the enterprising 
 Mr. Thomas Parmenter; Mr. Isaiah Don, who, though 
 a man of business, a director in a savings bank, last 
 year a compromise member of the legislature, was after 
 all most notable for being an admirer of Mr. Parmen- 
 ter and his success, and Mr. Pettie, a man with a face 
 like one of the lesser quadrupeds, but who had become 
 of some account on "Change by shrewd management of 
 an unexpected legacy. He was the eleventh member 
 of the Board.
 
 ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S SCHOOL. 
 
 As indicating the individual standing of the members 
 and their importance in the community, the Rev. Dr. 
 Farwell, one of them, a man of very moderate size, but 
 of large manner, after studying the written list for some 
 time, remarked to Mr. Manson, a, strong, hearty, and 
 hale man, who was a brother clergyman and brother 
 trustee, 
 
 " Among these 
 Eleven Trustees 
 Are three LL.- and three D.D.'s." 
 
 To this the other added, 
 
 " Two ?m-Doctored parsons, or chicka-D.D.'s. 
 
 " We must bring in two more, Mr. Parmenter and 
 Mr. Don. Well, we can bring them both in, in some 
 such fashion as this, I suppose : 
 
 " And a couple of men representing I D's." 
 
 " There's ten," said Dr. Farwell. " Who's left out ? '' 
 
 Mr. Manson looked at the list. " Mr. Pettie," said 
 he. 
 
 " Well," answered Dr. Farwell, with a solemn jocosity 
 of manner, " we can't make poetry of him." 
 
 There was the Board of Trustees of St. Bartholo- 
 mew's School. 
 
 The change in the buildings from the Midland Sum- 
 mer House to St. Bart's School was easily made. The 
 long rows of little bedrooms were thrown open to the 
 long passages between, and then hung witli curtains 
 instead of doors; and in this way made as good alcoves 
 for a boys' dormitory as if at first planned for them. 
 Larger rooms were kept here and there for tutors, and
 
 8 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 for household purposes ; some parlors became recitation- 
 rooms ; the dining-room stayed much as it was ; the 
 ball-room became a school-room ; a handsome share of 
 the main house was given to family use ; and the cupola 
 became an astronomical observatory, to be furnished 
 when the time should come. The thing was done, and 
 well done ; and, what was more, the buildings looked 
 well, and answered their purpose. 
 
 Thereafter the liveliness of boys, and the public 
 and private spendings of a large establishment, and the 
 success of a great institution, were to take the place of 
 the fashion and show which had so soon and so utterly 
 fleeted with the second season of the Midland Summer 
 House. 
 
 The town of Eastham, in which St. Bart's School 
 stands, and is the chief thing, is as pretty as almost any 
 country place with neat houses and some fine trees, and 
 that which gives it its greatest beauty, its lake. 
 
 As we shall have many readers who are very studious 
 and scholarly persons, and as some of them have already 
 got map in hand to fix their memory of our geography, 
 and as a lake is one of the best things in any landscape, 
 and people know it, we must be a little precise here 
 about this great treasure of St. Bart's and Eastham, and 
 show how it comes that there is a conflict of names in 
 maps and in people's mouths. 
 
 Now, all learned readers are, of course, aware of the 
 way in which the human race always makes its additions 
 to the stock of names bestowed by Adam. In all essen- 
 tial respects that way was followed by those members 
 of the race who took upon them the naming of this 
 lake at the seventeenth meeting of "The St. Barfs 
 Boat Club."
 
 EASTHAM. 9 
 
 Two classical factions in the school laid claim to the 
 privilege of giving it a Greek and a Roman name re- 
 spectively : the one, on the ground that the Greeks were 
 the finest men that ever lived, and the Greek language 
 was the finest language that ever existed, the Caput 
 said so ; the other, because it was a self-evident propo- 
 sition that the Romans had whipped the Greeks. At 
 length it was reluctantly arranged between the leaders 
 Gaston, then in the third form, and Burgess, in the 
 fourth, and accepted with acclamations by the multi- 
 tude on both sides, who were heartily tired of the dis- 
 cussion, that the water should bear a " Gra5co-Roman " 
 name, by the combination of the two proposed, which 
 were " Copais," from a lake in Boeotia, the largest that 
 the Phil-Hellenes could find in Greece, and " Trasy- 
 menus," from a pond in Etruria. " Copais-Trasymene " 
 it was to be for ever called ; Gaston, the Hellene, having 
 secured that ending, which he said was musical and 
 poetical; and a committee, consisting of the aforesaid 
 leaders, was appointed to convey the results of this 
 important deliberation to the map-rnakers and writers 
 of gazetteers throughout the land, and throughout the 
 world. 
 
 The committee, having divided the labor between 
 them, sent carefully written, and of course carefully 
 w/jrded, notes in abundance to the Messrs. Thompson 
 and Mr. Sharpe, and to Mr. Lock, and to Mr. Lcdwaite, 
 and to all the rest of the map and atlas men, and in the 
 end achieved this success : one of those publishers got 
 it printed " Eastham P.," and underneath, in parenthesis, 
 ("L. C. T."); three of them returned answer that 
 " they would attend to it when they made new plates " 
 (which Gaston, who was a learned fellow, said was put- 
 1*
 
 10 ANTONY BRADK. 
 
 ting off to the Greek Kalends) ; one got it down as 
 " Copious P.," and in explanation wrote that ho 
 "thought the rest was only boys' fooling." 
 
 A party in the school strongly set about nicknaming 
 it "Cop;" another tried to call it "Trasy;" and the 
 school settled down upon " Lake Thrash," and there it 
 is this day with that name belonging to it ; and the 
 boys of St. Bart's are resolutely determined never to 
 buy map or atlas made by any one of those men.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MYSTERY ABOUT ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 YOUNG Antony Brade had come to St. Bart's only 
 that fall, and, as has been seen, the boys soon found, or 
 fancied a mystery about him. It would have been diffi- 
 cult, perhaps, to trace the prevailing opinion to any de- 
 finite source ; but it had spread through the school, and 
 had stayed there, more or less strong and active, ac- 
 cording as it was fed, more or less often, from without 
 and within, by fresh supplies of conjecture. He was 
 generally thought to belong to some very important 
 family abroad ; he either might be the heir-apparent of 
 royalty, for some reason sent off and concealed a great 
 way from home, or he might be a son of some family 
 lower than royalty, who, for whatever reason (as above), 
 had been sent away to be educated in this country; 
 most likely because this country was the greatest in the 
 world ; and sent to the Rector of St. Bart's because " the 
 Caput" was one of the most illustrious scholars and 
 teachers in the world. It was not settled in this com- 
 munity whether the Rector was in the secret of Antony's 
 origin, or partly in the secret, or not at all in the secret ; 
 but it was a thing of course to the boys that the lad's 
 guardian in the city knew nothing further than that the 
 boy was to be watched over carefully, and that there 
 was plenty of money appropriated to his bringing-up.
 
 12 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 Outside the school, among the families that called 
 themselves "society" in East ham, an opinion of a some- 
 what definite character had found a place, that young 
 Brade was a Russian of high extraction and very great 
 expectations. 
 
 This started from some unknown source ; but gained 
 its chief circulation from the lively interest taken in it 
 for several days together by Mr. Greenwood, who talked 
 with as many people, and said as many things, as any- 
 body in Eastham. He had got most of his education at 
 Harvard, and a degree in law from Michigan, and was 
 now occupied, as it was understood, with " railroad 
 business," which allowed of his living quietly here, and 
 being one of the liveliest, if not most useful, members 
 of Eastham society,' and of his having all the daytime 
 and evening to himself, and working only at such con- 
 venient times as would not interfere with his own 
 pleasure, or that of others. 
 
 Mr. Greenwood had repeatedly discussed this subject 
 with much interest, never absolutely pronouncing for or 
 against the opinion ; but, as he said, "A story, starting 
 from an unknown source in this way, and which cannot 
 be referred to any author, is precisely the material of 
 all early history in every country, in Greece, in 
 Persia, in Rome, in Germany, in Scandinavia, in Eng- 
 land, in Peru, and nobody can remember how many 
 other countries." 
 
 This consideration weighed strongly with many in- 
 telligent persons. 
 
 At St. Bart's, in spite of the greatness of this mystery, 
 or because of the mysteriousness of Antony's greatness, 
 the boys took him among them pretty quietly, much like 
 any other boy ; yet there had been not a few silent on-
 
 MFS TEE Y ABOUT HIM. 13 
 
 lookers, when his trunk was unpacked, who expected to 
 see a crown roll out, or a purple robe unfolded, or some 
 strange implement or other fall to the floor. All these 
 were disappointed ; for young Brade's clothes (though 
 of better quality than usual perhaps) were much like 
 the clothes of other young boys, so many jackets and 
 trousers, so many shirts, so many pairs of socks, so many 
 drawers, so many flannel waistcoats. To be sure, a crown 
 stamped in gilding was indeed spied upon his prayer- 
 book; but, as it surmounted a stamped cross, almost 
 every one agreed that it marked no definite distinction 
 between Antony Brade and other Christians, although 
 one Will Hirsett held out as long as he could that 
 there was "just a little mite of difference he could 
 see it well enough, though he could not point it out 
 between that crown and others." 
 
 When the Russian theory made its way within the 
 school limits, the boys were not long in applying their 
 quick wit and broad intelligence to the investigation in 
 the new direction. Hatching, or Towne, or some one, 
 started the thought of putting in Brade's way a thing 
 which was especially national, and so would be a touch- 
 stone that would bring the secret out at once. Such a 
 thing exactly, the boys thought, was the famous " Russian 
 Imperial Kezan Soap " of Mr. Diogenes Smith, Pharma- 
 copeist. Half a dozen cakes of this " inimitable article " 
 they procured, through Mr. Parmenter going to the city, 
 at wholesale price ; and one or more of these, in flaming 
 labels, they put in the supposed young Russian's way, 
 but all without appreciable result. 
 
 Boys are not slow or scrupulous, within certain limits, 
 short of what seems to them unkind or rude, about 
 seeking to make their fellows satisfy curiosity ; and BO
 
 14 AX TUN 1' DRADK. 
 
 the mysterious new-comer had, from time to time, been 
 questioned, but as he had, the first time the subject of 
 his family was directly inquired into, galloped oil' with 
 a laugh, and said, " Oh, yes ! I'm a very great man, of 
 course ; " and the next time had told his curious young 
 friends that he had neither father nor mother, and was 
 embarrassed and pained whenever it was approached, 
 the result was supposed to have confirmed the mysteri- 
 ousness of his origin ; and if the curiosity was not so 
 sharp after a little while as at the outset, the only reason 
 probably was that curiosity will, like other things, lose 
 its edge and become dull when tried upon something 
 too hard for it. That he was an excellent scholar, and 
 as willing to work as he was quick at learning, no one 
 could help seeing, and no one could deny that he was a 
 very kind-hearted, obliging young fellow. So he was 
 a leading scholar in the Third Form, though one of the 
 youngest boys in it, and bade fair to be a distinguished 
 member of the school, as time went on. 
 
 Several things which bore upon the question, the boys 
 had observed about him. No parent or other relation 
 had visited him at the school ; his letters at first had 
 come addressed by his guardian on the outside, although 
 more than one boy was sure of having seen a lady's 
 delicate writing enclosed, which, from Antony's eager- 
 ness to read it, and tenderness after reading it, was con- 
 cluded to be his mother's. Latterly some said, since 
 this woman in black came he had received no letters 
 and wrote none ; and it was observed that, when others 
 were writing or reading letters, he generally kept away. 
 This at least was the rumor among the younger boys 
 with whom he most associated. 
 
 Now, however convenient this might be to somebody
 
 MYSTERY ABOUT HIM. 15 
 
 (perhaps his father and mother, who might be pretend- 
 ing to be dead), or whatever purpose it might answer, 
 yet practically it deprived the young fellow of a home, 
 or made him homeless. All this had been often enough 
 discussed, and public opinion at St. Bart's held itself in 
 suspense. 
 
 This last circumstance the loneliness of young An- 
 tony, in spite of his supposed lofty extraction occa- 
 sioned a pretty general feeling of compassion for him, 
 until it was found that he needed nothing of that sort; 
 and then, as he was very likable in himself, all the boys 
 of the school held him in more or less of tender regard, 
 as no other boy at the time was held. He was nick- 
 named sometimes "King," sometimes "Duke," some- 
 times "Royalty," sometimes "Your Highness;" but 
 boys' nicknames are never meant to hurt each other, 
 and are given and taken with equal indifference, and in 
 this case Antony answered to any of these names as 
 readily and as gravely as he would have answered to 
 the name of his family, or to that given him in baptism.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 TALK AT THE BONFIRE. 
 
 THE time at which our story begins was the early 
 October, and the day was going down cloudless. If any 
 good eyes were scanning the heavens, and had known 
 where to look, they might perhaps have seen a faint 
 smoke rising from somewhere between the school build- 
 ings and the horizon. The observer, then, if he had 
 gone till he came to it. would have found a group 
 of boys gathered about a fire, and in all sorts of atti- 
 tudes, lying, sitting, leaning, standing, and, for the 
 most part, silent, as we are apt to be (even boys) in 
 declining day, and about a dying fire. A man in plain 
 working clothes, whom they addressed as " Mr. Stout," 
 had just passed by, stopping to look at the state^ of 
 things, and taking, unmoved, while he stopped, a scat- 
 tering volley of teasings for leave to break up all sorts 
 of things for fuel. 
 
 Of course the little party had had its subjects of con- 
 versation before this time, and just now only one a 
 curly-headed, black-eyed young fellow is speaking, 
 leaning on his elbow, with his chin in his hand. 
 
 " That's her goin' along West Road, now " 
 
 "Where, Hutchins? Where?" asked several voices, 
 as most of the company turned and looked. He went 
 on:
 
 TALK AT THE BONFIRE. 17 
 
 " In black clo'es : she brings that swell girl with her to 
 church, that never looks at any of the fellahs. I s'pose 
 her mother tells her not to. They ain't what you may 
 call exactly ladies. Some o' the fellahs were with Brade 
 t'other day when he met her, and she only jest looked 
 sideways at him (I don' know whether she did look at 
 him), and he turned all c/ver first red, and then as pale 
 as a ghost. I shouldn't wonder if she was a watch over 
 him. They do have such things, I've read of 'em, 
 ' dianas ' they call 'em, to watch over girls, and see 
 that they don't get married, in Spain and Italy, and all 
 those places. I suppose Petei's can tell us how it used 
 to be in those times of his knights and maidens and 
 things he's so proud of." 
 
 A fair-haired, large-eyed, thoughtful-looking boy, on 
 whom the flame into which he had been gazing shone 
 brightly, at the moment, looked up at this appeal, but 
 seemed not to think it worth while to answer, although 
 at first his lips parted, and a voice seemed about to 
 come forth. 
 
 Hutchins's story had gone on swimmingly so far, and 
 his conjectures would, no doubt, have been equally 
 successful, if one of the company a thin, straight- 
 nosed, nervous-looking fellow had not spied here a 
 weak spot. 
 
 " Diana was a goddess. They don't call 'em ' dianas? 
 I know. I forget what they do call 'em ; but I know it 
 ain't that." But here the rest of the company, who had 
 tolerated the intrusion so long as they did not know 
 what efl'ect it was to have upon the substance of Hut- 
 chins's story, now finding that the objection only touched 
 a very immaterial point in it, cried out to him to go on, 
 and never mind about the goddess Diana. Indeed, one
 
 18 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 small fellow, who seemed to have studied to some pur- 
 pose, supported Hutchins, by saying that " the goddess 
 Diana did keep girls from getting married as much as 
 she could." 
 
 " There, Rcmsen ! Meadows knows," said another, 
 a big and rather loutish fellow, whose hat, turned inside 
 out, sat on the back of his head. " Hooray for Third 
 Form ! Hooray for the Great Middle Class ! " 
 
 Then, as the young mythologist was about to follow 
 up his success (as even grown-up human nature will 
 sometimes do) with communications of learning at 
 greater length, the new speaker set himself against any 
 indulgence of this sort. 
 
 " That'll do, Meadows," he said : " you ain't reciting 
 now;" and the young scholar, discomfited, resorted to 
 the feeding of the fire. 
 
 Hutchins, however, came to the rescue of his learned 
 supporter : 
 
 " Yes, Meadows has done very well. Towne, you 
 may go on where Meadows left oft*." 
 
 And a laugh went up against Towne, who said, 
 
 " Oh, I don't pretend to know any thing." 
 
 Hutchins, now re-enforced by Meadows's classical con- 
 tribution, restored himself again to his own satisfaction, 
 and to his leadership, by saying, 
 
 " I knoo she did something o' the sort," but then 
 seemed at a loss Avherc to begin again. 
 
 One of the company a pretty large little fellow 
 set him going once more. 
 
 O O 
 
 "But that ain't boys. Because they have 'em for 
 girls, that don't show that they have 'em for boys." 
 
 " Hooray for Villicks! " said Towne, at the expiration 
 of this speech.
 
 TALK AT THE BONFIRE. 19 
 
 Now Hutchins recovered the full swing of his ai'gu- 
 ment. 
 
 " Why shouldn't they have 'era for boys jest as well 
 as for girls? Can't a woman watch, I should like to 
 know ? ' The Black Watch ' I call her." 
 
 " The Black Watch was an English regiment," said 
 Towne, who seemed to have read something, and to 
 have information of some sort. 
 
 " Don't I know that ? " retorted the chief speaker. 
 u Haven't I got the book ? But if she's black, and if 
 she watches, ain't she a black watch ? " 
 
 Having thus settled Towne, he took up his interrupted 
 story about Brade. 
 
 " Well, after that he turned and looked after her ever 
 so many times, and began to cry, too." 
 
 This story seemed to have gained and grown in its 
 travels, not otherwise than as men's stories generally 
 gain ; for the same boy who had taken exception to 
 the name " diana " now undertook to set Hutchins 
 right in other points. 
 
 "Why, I was there, and he didn't keep turning 
 round, and he didn't cry. He only looked queer-like. 
 Perhaps it wa'n't at her at all, bashful." 
 
 " There ! " said Hutchins again, " I leave it to any- 
 body if Remsen ain't backiiig up all I said. I said she 
 was most likely watching him; and Itemsen says he 
 was frightened as soon as he saw her. Where's the 
 difference? I shouldn't wonder but* what she'd had 
 the charge of him before he came here. I shouldn't 
 think he'd had much schooling." 
 
 " That's a likely story ! " said Rernsen. " He must be 
 a very smart fellow, indeed, if he hasn't had much 
 schooling, to get on the way he's got on. An' I don't
 
 20 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 say he was frightened, he was queer-like, jest for a 
 little ; but he laughed and talked and played like any 
 person else after that." 
 
 Tom Hutchins had no thought of giving in. Feeding 
 the bonfire with such sticks and bits of combustible 
 material as were at hand, he answered, 
 
 " He signed his name in the big book, there, with a 
 kind of a tail to it, just like ay, jes 's if he was going to 
 write 'Brady,' and then he made an e of it. Burgeon 
 told me, he comes next to him. So he couldn't write 
 his own name very good, if that's the way. He's a 
 pretty educated man that can't write his own name 
 without blundering." 
 
 " Much you know ! " said the same thin, light-colored, 
 nervous fellow, who looked a little younger than the 
 other. He was still standing opposite, as if waiting his 
 chance. " He writes enough sight better'n you, Tom 
 Hutchins, any day. He writes better'n any fellow in 
 the school." 
 
 " Don't be personal ! " said the loutish young fel- 
 low before-mentioned, and whom Hutchins had called 
 "Towne." 
 
 Here several boys, mostly pretty small, as silent 
 as Indians before, broke in, 
 
 "That's a likely story!" 
 
 "A fresh chap like that! " 
 
 " Better than Lawrence ? " 
 
 " Better than ftamson ? " 
 
 " Better than Mason ? " 
 
 All which supplementary helps were gathered by 
 Tom Hutchins into one final and conclusive argument, 
 
 "You tell that to your grand-aunt's granny, Nick 
 Remsen."
 
 TALK AT THE BONFIRE. 21 
 
 It was evident from the number and eagerness of the 
 interrupters that the point interested a good many. 
 
 " Well, I was going to say " began the interrupted 
 speaker, rather confused, as if his explanation was not 
 quite ready. 
 
 "You want to make out that he's goin' to take the 
 shine off Gaston," said Tom Hutchins, quietly, as an 
 elder, to Remsen, not heeding his attempt to right 
 himself with the company. " Now, I tell you it won't 
 be one, nor two, nor three Brades that'll do that, if he 
 does belong to Third Form, an' a big old Dutch family 
 as long as your arm." 
 
 The incongruity of this descriptive phrase of Hutchins 
 seemed not to strike any of the boys; for with the 
 young race fancy adjusts itself more easily, and is less 
 hampered by taste, than in grown-up people ; and Rem- 
 S6n accordingly took no advantage of it. 
 
 " Who said he was a big Dutch family ? " said he. 
 "He ain't Dutch at all, but some sort of a nobleman, or 
 something that nobody knows any thing about." 
 
 " That's the way with a good many o' those kind o* 
 fellahs, those noblemans and counts and kings, I 
 guess," said Hutchins. "Nobody knows any thing 
 about 'em ; and the first thing you hear one of 'em's 
 got cotched in the paper, an' they find out he wasn't 
 any king and nobleman and such stuff, but a great, 
 long-tailed Irishman." 
 
 Hutchins had resented the comparison of the new- 
 comer Brade with Gaston. He was not the only one to 
 rate Gaston's scholarship highly. 
 
 " I believe that fellow Gaston could pretty nearly enter 
 college now," said a boy, who had a large mouth, easily 
 worked, and which gave him a look of drollery in saying. 
 a very common thing.
 
 22 ANTONY BRAflE. 
 
 " I guess lie could enter that ' Ulterior College ' you're 
 always talking about, Blake," said Hutching. "What 
 do they ask there for admission?" 
 
 " When a fellow comes," said Blake, " they ask him 
 whether he's made up his mind that he really wants a 
 degree, so that they can be sure he'll take it when they 
 give it to him. That's their examination. Then they 
 make him give bonds that he'll pay 'em five dollars for 
 his degree when he gets it." 
 
 The boys laughed at Blake's way of saying this. 
 
 "But what do they do all the four years waiting till 
 it's time to take their degree ? " asked Towne. " I guess 
 that's the college for me." 
 
 "Well," said Blake, " they take it as comfortably as 
 they can. Most o' their real work is writing petitions. 
 If it's a fine day, they send up a petition to the President, 
 
 he's an old man, a hundred and fifty years old for all 
 I know, and they tell him they think they should 
 enjoy a walk for their health ; and the old gentleman 
 says 'walking's very saluberous,' or some such word, 
 
 he's awful good-natured, 'and he'll go with 'em;' 
 and so they send him back word ' they're afraid they'll 
 walk too fast for him,' and he lets 'em go without him." 
 
 "When 'tain't a fine day?" asked Hutchins; and 
 added, " How do you spell that college ? " 
 
 "Ulterior;" said Blake. "I don't know how they 
 spell it. When 'tain't a fine day, they tell him the light 
 hurts their eyes. Then he takes oif a few days at the 
 beginning of a term, because they've just come, and a 
 few days at the end of a term, because they're just 
 going, and so" 
 
 "Look here, old Ultimatum," said Hutchins, "do they 
 use any books at that college ? "
 
 TALK AT TEE BONFIRE. 23 
 
 " They say they do," said Blake ; "but they give 'em 
 three or four days to look over a book before they go 
 into it, and express their sentiments." 
 
 "That's my college!" said Towne. "They'll hear 
 of me there some o' these days." 
 
 " It's the only place you ever will be heard of, I 
 guess," said Blake. 
 
 If our readers, further on in life, on the upper side of 
 that easy slope which leads from college or young ladies' 
 school straight up to the heights of fame and fashion 
 and fortune, and all that, object to the language of our 
 very young friends, that it is not elegant enough or 
 grammatical enough for the members of a great school 
 of the first class, let us remind them that most boys 
 disencumber themselves as readily of the hindrances of 
 grammar and spelling-book, when they can, as of those 
 of dress ; and that even " lady teachers," sharp and 
 sudden as they may be in rebuking mistakes, and 
 thorough in exacting spelling and parsing and syntax 
 and prosody in their classes, fall back easily from art to 
 second nature when out of recitation. For boys, too, 
 beside the attraction that other people find, common 
 old words and queer words have a little interest and 
 adventure, as well as homeliness, about them. These 
 boys will come to good English by and by. 
 
 The conversation (like most conversations of boys 
 round a bonfire, at any rate) was rather rambling; but, 
 as nobody was in a hurry, so there were some who 
 kept hold of the thread of the main subject. As soon 
 as the laugh settled down, Remsen began treating all 
 that had been said for some time back as altogether a 
 mere side-talk, and going back, 
 
 " I don't say but what there are impostors ; but Brade
 
 24 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 ain't one of 'cm. Why, if you just barely look at him, 
 you can see he's a gentleman. He ain't a common 
 person. A common, vulgar man never has a handsome 
 skin, soft, that way, like Antony Bracle's got; and he 
 don't have handsome hair and handsome eyes, that 
 way." 
 
 The late interrupters allowed all these points to go 
 unchallenged ; and even Hutching seemed not disposed 
 to argue them. He took another ground now : 
 
 "All boys are gentlemen, ain't they ?" he asked ; but, as 
 objections were beginning of a sudden to rise from every 
 side, he changed the form of his expression, and limited 
 its generalization : " All our fellahs, I mean, of course. 
 What do you say, Wilkins?" he said, appealing to the 
 largish small boy, who was ready and waiting to speak. 
 
 Here many hands poked the pieces of wood and 
 brands together, and several mouths puffed up flames. 
 
 " To be sure, all Bartlemas fellows are gentlemen," said 
 the boy who had been called upon, and whose features 
 and complexion perhaps imperfectly satisfied Remsen's 
 requirements ; for he had a smooth skin and soft hair, if 
 not the very expressive eyes which made part of Hem- 
 sen's catalogue of gentlemanly qualities. " Every rich 
 man's son's a gentleman, ain't he ? " he asked, a little 
 doubtfully ; for, in truth, the question was a deep-going 
 one, and these boys were groping among the elements 
 of things. 
 
 " Not without you give him an education, an' make a 
 gentleman of him," said Tom Ilutchins ; " and not always 
 then." 
 
 Remsen was inclined to go further than this : 
 
 "1 know they -used to say that anybody couldn't be 
 a gentleman if his father and grandfather wasn't one 
 too."
 
 TALK AT THE BONFIRE. 25 
 
 " And the boy himself, three (Arithmetic, ain't it ?) " 
 said Tom Hutchins. " But look here ! " he added, as a 
 still brighter play upon Remsen's words occurred to 
 him : " you say the father and grandfather were one 
 gentleman, that makes each of 'em a half-gentleman, 
 don't it ? Remsen's an old Dutchman. You go back 
 to Adam's flood, I guess, with your family, don't you ? 
 Rem, Shem, and Jacob, the three patri-arks, the fellows 
 that made the Ark, Rem's son, you see : that's where 
 Remsen came from." 
 
 Our smaller scholar, of antiquity, who has been called 
 Meadows, undertook to correct Hutchins's loose and 
 latitudinarian quotation. 
 
 "It wasn't 'Rem, Shem, and Jacob,' you old Hut- 
 chins," lie objected. 
 
 Hutchins laughed with the most absolute confidence, 
 and answered the objector as if he had him safely in 
 the palm of his hand, to be crushed or let go. 
 
 " Why wa'n't it ? " he asked. " Ain't his name Rem- 
 son to this day ? And after he'd been so long in the 
 flood, didn't his family settle in Holland, where it's 
 always been half under water?" 
 
 While the conversation was beginning to lag in this 
 
 o o ~ 
 
 way, several members of the company got upon their 
 feet, as if to disperse, the chief subject having been quite 
 forgotten, and this last poor witticism of Hutchins's 
 serving, like the cracker in the bottom of the Roman 
 candle, to scatter them. 
 
 " Let the little fellows go home," said Blake, " because 
 their legs are short, and they want to start early. I 
 propose to see this fire out." 
 
 The natural eflect of this speech was to stop all the 
 younger boys who had started to go. 
 2
 
 26 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 "My fathers and grandfathers," said Wilkins, glad of 
 so large an audience, " were all gentlemen." This he 
 said with much satisfaction, and with that kindliness, 
 and that condescension, and that easiness to be pro- 
 pitiated, which mild people show who are secure in the 
 enjoyment of a privilege which cannot be shared by 
 others. 
 
 " Your father used to make real good clo'cs, I know,'' 
 aid Hatching ; "but" 
 
 "But he didn't make 'em himself: his men made 
 'em," said the scion of a noble stock. " lie had ever so 
 many men." 
 
 Wilkins's gentility was allowed to stand where he 
 put it. Hutchins's attention was drawn to something 
 else. 
 
 "There's Brade, now, ain't it? Don't he walk like a 
 lordship?" he said ; and a boy drew near, with one of 
 those gaits peculiar to childhood, a sort of canter, 
 in which that age, feeling (no thanks to Mr. Darwin) its 
 born sympathy with lower living beings, expresses it 
 often by imitation. 
 
 Instead of coming up to the ring round the fire, the 
 subject of Hutchins's remark turned off down the play- 
 ground toward the West Road. 
 
 The boys, remembering suddenly, began to ask, 
 
 " Where's the woman in black clothes ? " 
 
 While they are waiting and watching, we leave them, 
 to take the reader to the house of a person who is grow- 
 ing interested in the mystery of our hero.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MRS. WADHAM IS INTERESTED. 
 
 IN Eastham, at that time, was living a Mrs. Malvina 
 Wadham, who had two sons at St. Bart's, and who 
 heard, in due course, the defective and conjectural 
 story of Antony Brade. For her, indeed, all ears 
 were wells into which ran countless underground rills 
 of information, and out of which she drew, as she 
 pleased. 
 
 To Mrs. Wadham few things were impossible. Her 
 style of self-assertion was of this sort : " When I say 
 a thing's got to be done, it must be a very strange 
 case, that don't often occur, or it's got to be done, 
 just as I say. When I put down my foot " (and she 
 was in the habit of putting down one of her solid 
 instruments of locomotion), "something" (very em- 
 phatically, and with a pause) " has got to start." She 
 had sent her husband out to some far land of promise 
 to make his fortune, while she administered, at home 
 what was generally thought to be a pretty snug for- 
 tune, already made. That she should take comfort out 
 of it, if she did (" though Dear knows," she said, " the 
 worry of managing so much the brain-work and 
 the mind-work is worth more than any satisfaction 
 there is in it)," but if she did take comfort in it, she 
 " had a good right to," she said, " for it was by her
 
 28 ANTONY DRADE. 
 
 advice, and by her lookin' to things, and seein' to 
 every thing and advisin', that it was what it was. She 
 hoped his children would realize that. Her advice 
 had always been jest right, jest the thing that was 
 wanted." 
 
 The name was said to have come, by some law of 
 " development," through " Wad-DELL " from shall we 
 say it ? "We do not like to confess, but yet, after all, 
 do find a certain pleasure in it. The " origin " of this 
 " species " was " Waddle." 
 
 This lady lived in Eastham, in a house which illus- 
 trated her assertion of herself. She had bought a small 
 bit of ground, and run up upon it a slight, thin, spread- 
 ing structure of boards, with gables and bows, and 
 bays, and pinnacles, and pendicles, and dormer-win- 
 dows, and (for any thing that we know) a clere-story, 
 and something atop that was not a clear story, but 
 half-roof; and so had covered her ground up. Then 
 she had hired a barn, of a farm-house close by, for 
 " her carriages and horses," and she was complete. 
 "It's only a summer veranda 1 call it. That's just 
 what it is, only a summer veranda. It'll do for me 
 in my widowhood," she said pleasantly, " and when 
 I go away, I shall sell it ; and that's the last of it, as 
 far as I'm concerned. That's all there is about it." 
 
 Climbers and creepers everywhere, and flowers in 
 pots on the piazzas and window-sills, had supplied the 
 place of trees and shrubs in summer; and now what 
 were left of them made a fresh and cheery house inside. 
 A good solid wood fire was blazing one November 
 morning, on handsome French andirons, toward which 
 Mrs. Wadham was stretched nearly at full length in 
 her chai*
 
 MRS. WADHAM IS INTERESTED. 29 
 
 This lady, as we have said, had heard of Antony 
 Brade and what there was of his story, and still more 
 what there was not of it, and she reasoned about it in 
 this way : "Who says you can't find out a boy's history, 
 and his antecedents ? " (this word with much distinct- 
 ness). " I should like to see a boy that I couldn't find 
 out, if I tried to " (and it is to be borne in mind that 
 her face was very square, and very set, when it was 
 set, and rather hard). 
 
 Her daughter Minette (whom, for some reason of 
 their own, the young men of her acquaintance called 
 " Toby ") was much like her mother, perhaps, in sub- 
 stance, but smoothed off considerably by some years 
 of costly education. To her, too, it seemed that the 
 secret of the boy might be found out. They both 
 agreed, the mother that any thing of that sort ought to 
 be known ; and the daughter, that any thing of that sort 
 might as well be known. " There was no occasion for 
 any concealment," the mother said : " if a thing was 
 honest and honorable, there was no necessity for it ; 
 and if there was any thing wrong about it, it hadn't 
 any right to be concealed, and the sooner it was known 
 the better for all parties." 
 
 The mysterious character of the Ryan family was by 
 no means unknown or unconsidered by the Wadhams. 
 
 " I'm sure, Ma," said the daughter, " there's nothing 
 about them: they're just like any other family that 
 has risen up. The mother 's not educated much, a 
 foreigner. The girl's a bright girl, I know from 
 having her in my Sunday class, and she's lady-like 
 enough, considering she can't have had advantages ot 
 society, and all that ; and then," continued Miss Min- 
 ette, making a concession that not every young lady
 
 80 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 will make, even in case of a person whom she does not 
 consider quite on her own level, " she's pretty." 
 
 "Yes, buby-pooty," said the elder: "big blue eyes, 
 and a smooth skin and a dab of red ; but then, as you 
 say, where does all their money come from ? I say 
 they're employed, most likely, to have an eye to this 
 young heir to whatever he's heir to; for I take it" 
 (dropping her voice, and giving a tone of inquiry to it, 
 and looking scrutinizingly at her single listener) " he's 
 heir to something, if it's only a common fortune, and 
 no title nor nothing." 
 
 But the daughter had either heard much less, or 
 attached much less importance to what she had heard, 
 for she said, 
 
 " I can't see exactly what ground there is for sup- 
 posing any connection between that boy and this 
 family. Why couldn't he be as great as you please, 
 and yet go to school, like anybody else, without a 
 family set to watch over him secretly ? " 
 
 The mother was equal to meeting this suggestion. 
 
 "Why ! that's their way of doing things, that's all. 
 Yes, that's their way. Why! he bears it on his front, 
 I'm sure, unmistakable ; and he has the finest of every 
 thing, no matter how I know it, but I know it, 
 the finest of cloth for his coat, and his vest, and his 
 pants, and the best of shirts, French fashion, and 
 handkerchiefs, plenty of 'em all, and all of the best 
 (I've seen 'em) ; and all marked and numbered just as 
 pooty " 
 
 "But all that," said the daughter, who seemed to 
 Lave powers of reasoning at least equal to those of her 
 mother, u don't show what the Ryans have to do with 
 him. It may all be, and I don't say it is not ; < nly I
 
 MRS. WADIIAM IS INTERESTED. 31 
 
 don't see what reason there is for thinking so. I don't 
 see any objection to any one's following up this clue (in 
 a proper manner, of course) ; and if it leads to the 
 Ryans, or through the Ryans, why, then he'll find out 
 two secrets, instead of one." 
 
 The good-natured tone in which she spoke disarmed 
 the otherwise foi'raidable and murderous -sounding 
 words " to the Ryans or through them" of any terrors. 
 
 " Then you agree," said the mother, as if right and 
 wrong, in any case about which they formed judg- 
 ments, were settled by the agreement' of the court, 
 "you agree that it would be well to find this thing 
 out, to probe it to the bottom. Now my way would 
 be this : I should go straight to head-quarters. I 
 should " 
 
 " But, Mother," said the daughter, " you can't make 
 it your business" 
 
 " That isn't the way I should do it, at all," interrupted 
 the mother, in her turn. " You don't understand. I 
 shouldn't make it my business. I should go where's 
 Eldridge?" she asked, interrupting herself in the middle 
 of a sentence ; and then, looking round and not seeing 
 him, she proceeded : " I should go to Saint Bartholo- 
 mew's School, and I should say, ' I want to see your 
 alcoves' (any parent, or anybody, has a right to go and 
 df-mand to see every alcove at any time, to see what the 
 accommodations are, and how they're kep' up). Mr. 
 Parrnenter maintains that principle. He likes to have 
 'em goin' and then comin' and tellin' him, so's to show 
 that he looks after things up there. Anybody is; an' 
 I've got two sons there." 
 
 "But, Mother," interposed Miss Minette, "you 
 wouldn't want to go and demand "
 
 82 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 "That isn't the way I should do it," said the mother, 
 who seemed equal to any emergency. " You don't 
 understand. I say anybody's got the right. I wa'n't 
 a-goin' to use it. I should go there to see the alcoves. 
 I should find out from Albert no, from Edmund (our 
 Edmund) which Brade's was, and one or two more. 
 I should have a friend with me. I should say, ' Look 
 here ! this alcove is very pooty, or neat, or snug,' which- 
 ever it might be ; and I should see all there was there. 
 Then I should send for the boys, ' with Mrs. Wadham's 
 compliments,' and apologize to 'em for having made free 
 with their alcoves ; and I should send for Brade last, 
 and I should compliment him, and put him in good 
 humor ; and then I should mention, incidentally, souve- 
 neersfrom home, and make alloosions ; and then, if I saw 
 that he was close, I should say, 'Never mind, dear, 
 another time: it'll do jest as well.'" 
 
 As Mrs. Wadham said this, in a very small and tender 
 voice, she patted, with lilt and many-ringed fingers, the 
 air, which, perhaps, to her quick mind, represented the 
 head of the mysterious boy. Having finished this scene, 
 she presented another. 
 
 "And if I should find his heart tender, and his eyes 
 swimmin', I should jest draw him up to me " (here she 
 suited the action to the word, and drew up to her the 
 shapeless air), " and tell him to put his head on my 
 bosom, and think I was his mother, and what a tender 
 name that was ! there wasn't any thing like a mother; 
 and not to be afraid to confide in me, for I was used to 
 such things. So I should sort o' pave the way, you 
 see." 
 
 Here she made a gesture with both hands, not quite 
 like any form of paving, but something like brushing
 
 MRS. WADHAM IS INTERESTED. o<3 
 
 slight trifles out of the Avay, which, perhaps, was as 
 much in her thoughts. 
 
 " Well, but, Mother, what would Mrs. Warren 
 think?" asked the daughter. 
 
 " Fiddles ! " said Mrs. Wadham, loftily, " for what any- 
 body thinks, when you're in the right." Then, being 
 carried off her feet (metaphorically) on the tide of her 
 own words: "Civility is a very good thing; and 
 courtesy is a very good thing; and ceremony, and 
 politeness, and all that, all very good things; but 
 not to interfere with dooty. Ceremony's one thing, 
 dooty's another." 
 
 "But, Mother," interposed the daughter once more, 
 " Mrs. Warren might be hurt, if you " 
 
 " I shall make it all right witli Mrs. Warren," said Mrs. 
 Wadham with dignity, feeling that she was older than 
 her daughter. " I shall make a point of sending for 
 Mrs. Warren, and tell her, in a lady-like way, ' I hope I 
 haven't interfered with any of her arrangements in 
 exercising my privilege of visitation ; and I'm happy to 
 find (if it should be so) that she doesn't need any sud- 
 gestions,' not reproof, nor instructions, I shouldn't 
 use that word, ' doesn't need any sudgestions.' That 
 will mnke that all right." 
 
 The daughter, who bade fair to be one day as big as 
 her mother, and perhaps to carry as much moral weight, 
 was not yet quite able to withstand the solid bulk of 
 her mother's advance, and perhaps, indeed, was inclined, 
 by curiosity, to let her go on. 
 
 At the moment, catching sight of some one coming 
 toward the open parlor-door, she got up from her chair 
 and walked toward him; but her mother, who kept her- 
 self in the practice of putting things together, having 
 2* c
 
 .34 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 obseivrd her look, or hearing a footstep, called out 
 promptly, 
 
 " Eldridge I Oh, it ain't Eldridge," she said, as no 
 answer came. 
 
 "Mr. Greenwood," said the daughter, and a small, 
 soft-voiced, sharp-faced, and rather melancholy-looking 
 gentleman, wishing the ladies "good day," came in and 
 was made welcome. 
 
 "Fine growing weather ! " he said, as he sat down, after 
 squeezing his soft hat into a pocket, and rubbed his hands 
 together. 
 
 " I do'no' what you'd grow in it," said Mrs. Wadham, 
 " unless you mean grow cold. It's cold enough, I'm sure, 
 for this time o' the year," and so she poked the fire, and, 
 with a vigorous thrust or two, brought forth obedient 
 flames. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Mr. Greenwood, stretching out one leg, 
 and rubbing the side of the knee, " didn't they use to 
 call these growing pains ? " and the face looked suddenly 
 and unaccountably droll. 
 
 Miss Minette smiled an appreciative smile. The 
 mother set her face with a special grimness, and then 
 formally relaxed the special grimness, and said, 
 
 " Oh, a joke ! " then paused. " What do you think of 
 our mystery now?" she added, after giving time for 
 things to settle from her guest's humorous effort, which 
 chilling pause he seemed to enjoy under his sadness, as 
 did Miss Minette, who laughed a short laugh. 
 
 " Oh," said Mr. Greenwood, " isn't that all settled yet ? 
 I hear but one opinion ; but then you know I live a very 
 retired and studious life." 
 
 "Settled! How?" exclaimed the solid lady of the 
 house, turning round upon her chair and facing him,
 
 MBS. WADHAM IS INTERESTED. 35 
 
 with the poker in her hand, and a fixed and steadfast 
 gaze in her face, her chin being a little dropped, and 
 her mouth hanging a little way open. 
 
 Mr. Greenwood certainly could be as sad-looking at 
 times, by nature or habit, as if the whole of life and 
 the world, and whatsoever ,is and whatsoever appears, 
 were a standing painful mystery to him. He was, when 
 one looked into his eyes, especially sad-looking. Miss 
 Minette seemed already amused, or ready to be 
 amused. 
 
 " I thought it was all settled that he was a young 
 foreigner," said the visitor, giving little encouragement 
 to any expectation of fun, but speaking very seriously 
 and gravely. 
 
 " Oh ! " said the lady, with a toss of her poker, " that's 
 an old story, that isn't up to the times. He's a for- 
 eigner, we know. Now the question is, what sort of a 
 foreigner? If we've got a young dooke, or a prince, or 
 a premier among us, I think we ought to know it, 
 I do ! I think it's no more than our dooty to society." 
 And again she fixed her gaze upon him squarely. 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Greenwood, "society's a good 
 thing : let's discharge our obligations to her. You 
 say he's a Russian?" 
 
 "No, I didn't say he was a Russian ; but it wouldn't 
 be strange if he was a Russian. But he may be a Rus- 
 sian, or he may be a Cir-cassian. What's the great 
 difference, when you get to foreigners, provided, mind 
 you, that they belong to the upper classes ? Only, if 
 there's any deceptio'n, we ought to know it. Decep- 
 tion's tryin' to outwit us, that's what deception is; 
 and we mustn't let 'em." 
 
 "I'm sure," said Mr. Greenwood, solemnly and earn-
 
 36 ANTONY 1UIADK. 
 
 estly, " I'm willing to give my little help to the detection 
 of a plot against society." 
 
 "'Taint consistent with our republican institootions," 
 she said, taking a fresh start. 
 
 To this Mr. Greenwood answered deliberately that 
 " he was not sure that it was." " And then," said he, 
 "if your sons are likely to be associating with a duke 
 in disguise, or a Czar of Bohemia, you've a right to 
 know what company they're keeping." 
 
 Mrs. Wadham's face relaxed ; but she could not 
 accept the political geography. "I guess you won't 
 find any Czar of Bohemia. Bohemia's a part of the 
 empire of Austria. I've been through it. Come to 
 Russia, and you're more like it. But the next thing 
 is," she continued, " what you're going to do about 
 it?" 
 
 " That's it," said her visitor, " what are you going to 
 do about it? If a little knowledge of foreign lan- 
 guages but I hear the boy don't know any thing 
 but English." 
 
 Mrs. Wadham did not overwhelm this suggestion 
 about English with irony or with scornful eloquence ; 
 but she met it with much shrewdness: 
 
 "He don't know ! What's he going to know except 
 just what's put into his mouth? But ain't he goin' to 
 have memories of his native land ? Squeeze a leaf, and 
 ain't there an aroma?" She illustrated this with a 
 geranium leaf, successfully. 
 
 Mr. Greenwood, in a low voice, said that, " if it was a 
 memory of the native land brought that out, he won- 
 dered what sort of country one particular kind of 
 cabbage remembered so strongly, that Mr. Pannenter 
 was raising, on his low grounds?"
 
 'MBS. WADHAM IS INTERESTED. 37 
 
 She continued, without check : " Yes ! can't you 
 appeal to 'em? Haven't we known of foreigners that 
 were as hard as you please ; but give 'em a little toone 
 upon your dulcinets and your castanets" (here Mrs. 
 Wadham illustrated, with her fingers, first the twanging 
 of melodious chords, as of a stringed instrument, and, 
 next, the airy touch which draws the responsive soul 
 from ivory keys), "and then you've got 'em." (Mr. 
 Greenwood applied his handkerchief to his eyes, but 
 only passingly, and said " that was human nature.") 
 
 Miss Minette was a musical person, and sat a little 
 impatient under this figurative representation. "I 
 don't know about those musical instruments," she said, 
 " but, Ma, that's the way it is in story-books." 
 
 " No, it isn't story-books ! That great, fat Gretkins 
 Waiter wasn't a story-book, that fell down flat, like a 
 shot, and kicked out her two great feet, as stiff as that 
 poker ! Now," said she, " that's just what I should try, 
 that's just what I should try." 
 
 Now Mrs. Wadham had said enough to warrant 
 her sitting still, and looking him broadly and steadily in 
 the face again, as having presented him with a very 
 complete " case." 
 
 "I think that's just what I should like to see tried," 
 said Mr. Greenwood. "It's like a chemical process, I 
 suppose," he continued, in a pleasant voice. " You " 
 
 " That's just it, exactly," she said, accepting the simile 
 as soon as she knew that a simile was coming, and be- 
 fore she heard it. So Mr. Greenwood did not follow 
 out the figure. 
 
 " Or like a mechanical appliance." 
 
 " Yes, yes, ' a mechanical appliance.' It's like a good 
 many things. Now what we want," she said, getting
 
 38 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 the lead again, as became her, "is a little what shall 
 we say ? Russian V Yes ! a little Russian." 
 
 " I thought," said Mr. Greenwood, diffidently, "that 
 we'd got a little Russian, and wanted to get into our 
 little Russian." 
 
 Miss Minette smiled. Mrs. Wadham did not recog- 
 nize this harmless attempt as a joke, but took it seri- 
 ously, and wasted no time over it. 
 
 " Well, we want the Russian language," she said. 
 
 " If you say so," he said, accommodatingly, " let's 
 have the Russian language. What's the evidence that 
 he's Russian ? That's settled, is it ? Certainly, his 
 hair curls, that's like Peter the Great ; and he's thin- 
 skinned. The air in those northern countries is so sharp 
 it takes off all the outside, ' the cuticle,' as the doctors 
 call it." 
 
 " Let's see the book ! Where's Peter the Great ! " 
 cried the mother; and as Miss Minette turned to a 
 bookcase, Mr. Greenwood added one little particular, 
 to prevent a possible disappointment: 
 
 " Unless they've got him there in his wig, which was 
 straight." 
 
 Miss Minette smiled. Presently, having found the 
 book, and opened it, she proclaimed the result : " You're 
 right : his hair is curly." 
 
 "What else is the child?" Mrs. Wadham asked, 
 witft a conclusive air, and repeated, " What else is 
 he? He ain't an American, that we know; nor lie 
 ain't an Englishman, nor a Frenchman. Then what is 
 he? Why, here's a story that says 'he's Russian.' 
 Now where does that come from? Where there's a 
 grain of fire, I say, there's a spark. I mean where 
 there's a spark, there's lire."
 
 MRS. WAD II AM IS INTERESTED. 39 
 
 " Both propositions are true and logical," he an- 
 swered. " I suppose we may say that where rumor 
 asserts a thing persistently, when there's no reason for 
 it, there must be something in it." 
 
 Mrs. Wadhani was too close and clear a reasoner, as 
 we have seen, to accept any poor work, for her argu- 
 ment. " How do you mean ' there's no reason for it ' ? " 
 she asked, looking at him with a most searching and 
 unflinching stare. 
 
 " Why, in this case," answered the acquiescing visitor, 
 " there's no interest to be served by representing him as 
 Russian. Nobody's going to gain any thing by it." 
 
 " Now, I see, you talk reason," she said. " What we 
 want is to try the boy with something that'll remind 
 him of his far-off home, you know ; and my opinion is 
 if we try him with a pretty little scene from his native 
 land, and a little song, or a few words of his mother- 
 tongue, we shall do it. Who is there that can talk 
 Russian ? There must be Russian ships coming into 
 Boston and Noo York every day." 
 
 "Not so often as that," said Mr. Greenwood, "not 
 so often as that." 
 
 " Well, they must have Russian Bibles ; and if I had 
 a Russian Bible, and a dictionary, I'd get enough, in 
 half an hour, to find him out, I'll be bound. He's only 
 a boy." 
 
 "You wouldn't undertake to make a 'Ranz des 
 Vaches' out of a Russian Bible and a dictionary, in 
 half an hour, Mother ! " said Miss Minette, laughing. 
 
 " I should like to see her have a fair chance," said 
 Mr. Greenwood, gravely. " She wants to prove to this 
 little chap at St. Bart's, and the rest of us, that he's a 
 Russian, of noble birth; and if she could take him
 
 40 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 unawares, and sing him a little simple, artless song, in 
 what she calls his mother-tongue, who knows what the 
 effect would be ? " 
 
 But this was going beyond Mrs. Wadham's limit, and 
 she applied a check. 
 
 " I haven't said any thing about singing a song, ran- 
 des-uac/ies or ren-dez-vous. No, I beg you not to 
 mistake me. I know very well what I'm saying. I 
 say, if somebody, not 1, not I, if somebody would 
 only sing a few words to him, a song of infancy, a 
 song of home, he'd touch the hidden springs, and 
 there'd be a gush " (there was a little confusion in the 
 imagery, here, but she evidently knew what she was 
 saying) "and a rush, and there it would be, you'd 
 have him." 
 
 Mr. Greenwood, before the weight and force of these 
 words, sat very meekly, and at the end he said, " Of 
 course you wouldn't sing it. Miss Minette would have 
 to do that for us " (" I beg you'll excuse me from 
 singing Russian," said Miss Minette) " of your mother's 
 composing," continued he, turning to her, with much 
 earnestness and a wave of the hand, all which precipi- 
 tated the young lady into a fit of laughter, in which he 
 left her and turned, gravely and silently, to listen to the 
 mother. 
 
 "It needn't be poetry," she said. "If I had to get it 
 out of the Bible, I should, most likely, choose an appro- 
 priate text: ' We confess we're strangers and pilgrims; 
 we want a better country, for this isn't our home.' 
 That would do! that would do! something like 
 that." 
 
 "Why not?" asked Mr. Greenwood, " if you could 
 only get the Russian Bible and the dictionary ? "
 
 MBS. WADHAM IS INTERESTED. 41 
 
 " They'd have 'em at the Depository, to give to the 
 sailors as they come in." 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Greenwood, modestly, "if we could 
 be sure, now, that every man in New York or Boston, 
 with a Bible under one arm and a dictionary under the 
 other, was a Russian sailor don't the Swedes, and the 
 Danes, and the Portuguese, go the same way ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wadham was not to be led off by any senseless 
 suggestions of this sort. 
 
 " What are we going to go round the streets after 
 sailors for ? What I say is, ' Go to the Depository ; ' 
 there you'll get your Russian Bibles, as many's you 
 want." 
 
 " The trouble is," said Mr. Greenwood, "Russian ships 
 don't come to this country, and so they wouldn't keep 
 any Bibles for 'em, that is, I don't think they would." 
 
 But Mrs. Wadham knew something about trade : 
 
 " Why don't they come to this country? Who brings 
 all the Russia duck and " 
 
 " Why, I suppose," said Mr. Greenwood modestly, like 
 a man ready to learn, " Russia ducks, like other ducks, 
 are migratory " 
 
 " Well, well ! " said the lady, " this doesn't bring us 
 any nigher to our point. If you can't try one thing, try 
 another, ./say," and she looked straight forward into the 
 boundless realms of thought, abstractedly, to see what 
 that other thing should be. 
 
 " You want to touch his feelings," said Mr. Green- 
 wood, now proving himself more serviceable and pur- 
 pose-like. " How would it do to show him some 
 affecting scene from his native land, the murder of 
 Peter the Great, or something like that ? " 
 
 "Was Peter the Great murdered?" asked the lady,
 
 42 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 turning from her meditation, and speaking like one who 
 was not in the habit of taking things upon trust. 
 
 " A great many Peters were, at any rate. Peter 
 something was ; and, I suppose, you'd be safe in saying 
 any Peter, for you know what the Russian way is. 
 They take the rightful heir, and put a crown on his head 
 (a splendid crown, heavy gold, and all covered over 
 with jewels), and then he sits on a great throne, 
 you've seen representations of them. Well, then any 
 man in the Empire has one shot at the crown, I don't 
 remember what the distance is, and, if he knocks it offj 
 then the emperor abdicates, and the man has the first 
 jewel he can pick up. ' Succession by Shot,' I believe 
 it's called." 
 
 "Suppose the emperor gets hit?" asked the lady, not 
 committing herself by look to a favorable or unfavorable 
 estimate of this information. 
 
 M If he dies, then that's called * Succession by natural 
 Order ' (or ' by the Order of Nature,' I forget which) ; 
 if he doesn't die, they try it over again." 
 
 Miss Minette was not as gravely affected by the 
 tragical character of the tenure of the Russian throne 
 as this story was calculated to make her. Indeed, she 
 laughed at it, and said it was a pretty state of things in 
 the Empire of all the Russias if that was the way with 
 them. 
 
 " This may be a little Czar sent here to escape that 
 ordeal," said Mr. Greenwood, diffidently. 
 
 " Well, well," said the mother, " that's neither here 
 nor there. You might have something out of history 
 that everybody would know. There was that burning 
 of Moscow, they used to have a panorama of it going 
 round. That would do, that would do. We could 
 easily get that up."
 
 WADE AM IS INTERESTED. 43 
 
 " How was it got up ? I haven't been in the world 
 as long as that ? " said her visitor. 
 
 " Why," said Mrs. Wadham, " here were great flames 
 darting out, and smoke rollin' off, and a drumming and 
 a thundering, and the Kremlin Tower comin' down" 
 
 "The Cruni'lin' Tower you mean, perhaps, if it was 
 coming down in that style?" 
 
 "No, I don't: I mean the Kremlin Tower. I know 
 very well what I mean ; and then the great bell come 
 down, ding-dong! ding-dong! and then the curtain 
 fell." 
 
 " And speaking of bells reminds me of the fair," said 
 Mr. Greenwood, with a great bow to Miss Minette. 
 " We can have the Fair of Nijni-Novgorod, on the Ice ; 
 and we're pretty sure of killing one bird with two 
 stones, if there's no member of the ' Prevention of 
 Cruelty' about." 
 
 " ' Two birds with one stone ' it is, I believe," said 
 Mrs. Wadham, gravely ; for it was evident that he had 
 got the proverb wrong. 
 
 " You're right, it is so," he answered, accepting the 
 correction handsomely ; " but why can't we have some 
 tableaux, whether we catch this little chap or not? It 
 would be fun for the Bartlemas boys, if you can get 
 them, and fun for everybody." 
 
 "Why shouldn't we?" asked Miss Minette, eagerly. 
 "It would be just splendid, wouldn't it?" 
 
 " Now you're on the track of something," said the 
 elder lady, who had set them upon this track. "Now 
 there's some prospect. Well, Mr. Greenwood, say the 
 word. When shall it be? You shall be stage-manager 
 and costumer." 
 
 "Are we going to have 'The Russian Succession,'
 
 44 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 too? or only 'The Burning of Moscow'?" he asked. 
 " We can have the one, or the two, or the three. The 
 Succession would be very effective, especially as we 
 should have to put Brade through it." 
 
 " Oh, let's have it by all means ! " said Miss Minette, 
 to whom the prospect seemed very suggestive of fun. 
 
 " We must have your mother close by to catch him, 
 if we knock him over, and to take his head in her 
 bosom," said Mr. Greenwood, whose plastic eye set up 
 for him already the future mimic scene. 
 
 "No, you don't, I thank you," answered that sensible 
 lady. "I ain't a-goin' to stand up and be shot at, not 
 for nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars a second. 
 He'll have to have somebody else for his mother, if 
 that's what she's got to do, I can't mother him." 
 
 " We can take out the balls, for any but the good 
 shots," said Mr. Greenwood. 
 
 " No, you won't catch me, good shots or bad shots, if 
 it's only pop-guns." 
 
 "Well, somehow, we must get his head into your 
 hands, and have that little song of home." 
 
 "That you won't get from me, I guess," said the 
 matron, again smiling, but with decision. 
 
 "And where are you going to get your Russian 
 words?" asked Miss Minette, conclusively. 
 
 "I suppose we could get those on a pinch," said the 
 future stage-manager. 
 
 "Then you begin to think there are ships coming in," 
 said the matron. 
 
 "No, no; but men who know Russian. I didn't mean 
 to mention it though." 
 
 ''You don't know Russian?" asked Miss Minette, 
 apparently in doubt whether he was in jest or earnest.
 
 MRS. WADHAM IS INTERESTED. 45 
 
 "You say so;" said Mr. Greenwood, with a tone of 
 regret : " I wish I could say as much. I had a painful 
 experience in that way." (Both ladies looked at him 
 with great interest and curiosity.) " I shouldn't like it 
 mentioned, for the aspirations of an ambitious young 
 man were crushed. I was appointed Secretary of Lega- 
 tion to Pekin, St. Petersburgh, I mean; but Mr. 
 Everett died, and the embassy didn't go. Nobody 
 knows that here, and you won't tell it, will you ? Now, 
 I am just working very hard, in a respectable and 
 remunerative way; but that was a sad damper. 
 N'importe!" he added, with a manly spirit. "Good 
 morning," and bowed himself out of the room, 
 followed hospitably through the entry by the younger 
 lady, and left the house.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 THE BLACK WATCH. 
 
 OUR young friends at the bonfire were questioning 
 where the lady in black clothes, who had gone up the 
 West Road, now was; and began to answer them- 
 selves. 
 
 M It's getting dark, down there : soon you couldn't tell 
 her." 
 
 But in every boys' gathering, as in every gathering 
 of men, there are always some who, finding themselves 
 gifted with extraordinary faculties, are not disposed to 
 keep the discovery to themselves. 
 
 " Oh, I could ! " said one of these lucky young per- 
 sons; and his reputation was at once extended by 
 Towne, who caught up his words and proclaimed 
 them. 
 
 "Will Hirsett says he can sec in the dark!" which 
 gave Tom Hutchins a chance to try his hand at one 
 out of the stock of figures of speech to which each 
 generation comes fresh: 
 
 " Oh, yes ! he's an owl." 
 
 Meadows took a higher flight for himself: 
 
 " / could see in pitch dark, I always could." 
 
 Another, a doughy-looking boy, having witnesseu 
 the strength and dexterity with which Hutchins had 
 wielded a grown-up man's metaphor, in calling Hirsett
 
 THE BLACK WATCH. 47 
 
 an owl, immediately handled one which he thought 
 as good, or better: 
 
 " Meadows is a fowl. Look here, fellows ! Meadows 
 is a fowl." 
 
 If Meadows was quick at his lessons, he was also 
 quick in his temper, too ; and so he took this latter 
 right up: 
 
 " And Fatty Dover is something else which begins 
 with jf and ends with I" 
 
 Here Hutchins, who had all along been the chief 
 speaker, hastened to use another opportunity: 
 
 " Take care, Meadows ! If you ain't a fowl, don't get 
 afoul of him." 
 
 But before the audience could fairly see this joke, 
 Remsen, Brade's champion, exclaimed in a low voice : 
 
 " There she is, now ! She's coming back ! " 
 
 " The Black Watch ! " said Hutchins ; and the time 
 being propitious for the taking up and fastening of a 
 name, several voices adopted it. 
 
 " Well ! Meadows and Hirsett are bright fellows to 
 see so fast, ain't they?" said Hutchins. "Now for 
 magic and mystery! Where's old Peters, with his 
 'shrivelry,' or whatever it is, he's always bragging 
 about? I should like to see him stick his nose into 
 any thing that's got any ' adventure ' in it, as he calls 
 it!" 
 
 The boys started from the fire, and hurried over to 
 that side on which the mysterious woman (dressed just 
 like a mysterious woman) and their own school-fellow, 
 with whom they supposed her darkly connected, were 
 approaching each other. They were away before Peters 
 had found utterance for the assertion that " they'd find 
 he wasn't a coward, when the time came." Squads of
 
 48 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 twos or threes got behind any thing (trees, or whatever 
 else) which offered a pretence of a screen. Some as 
 Will Hirsett, Fatty Dover, and others kept them- 
 selves aloof from all entanglements, on the open ground. 
 
 "He ain't a bit afraid," said a low voice. 
 
 "That's what you'd be, Fatty, if you were down 
 there," said another, louder, which might be recognized 
 as Towne's. 
 
 " He don't care any thing about her, I bet," said Will 
 Hirsett, still, however, keeping his face toward the 
 centre of all interest. By degrees all came forth of 
 their hiding-places, but it was to draw down nearer to 
 the West Road. It was strange how they had wrought 
 themselves up. 
 
 " Look here, fellows! " cried Tom Hutchins, " I don't 
 think this is very gentlemanly. I'm going off" and 
 accordingly he and others left the ground. 
 
 Remsen had not, like the rest, gone into covert, but 
 had followed Brade, at a slower pace, down toward the 
 road. 
 
 The silent figure in the black dress went steadily on- 
 ward ; and Brade and she, without ever showing any 
 consciousness of each other's neighborhood, or ever 
 turning toward each other, were drawing nearer to the 
 same spot. 
 
 "Hold on!" said the boys on the lookout, and Will 
 Hirsett as eagerly as any of the others. They even 
 advanced a few steps toward the two, over whom, to 
 the eyes of these fresh wearers of manhood, a mist of 
 glamour was thrown (how easily these things happen 
 to childhood !). 
 
 " I bet ye he's got to go," said Will Hirsett, getting 
 a little behind two or three boys.
 
 THE BLACK WATCH. 49 
 
 " Hold on ! hold on, fellows ! " said others. " Le's go 
 down!" said one or two, who were soon checked. 
 
 At length, while they looked, Brade stood still, just 
 as the dark figure went by (" Now ! now ! " said excited 
 voices). Remsen hastened to join him, when suddenly, 
 with a shout or cry, Brade started up the hill, eluding 
 all Remsen's efforts to stop him, and then Remsen, too, 
 followed him at full speed. The dark figure, as some 
 boys said, turned once; but the general impression 
 was that it moved on with the forward steadiness of 
 Fate. 
 
 But there was a commotion among the watching 
 boys ; and Will Hirsett ran round the corner of the 
 laundry, from behind which he peeped out. 
 
 As the two boys came on, Brade slackened his pace, 
 and then stopped. Remsen, in his furious speed, was 
 carried on beyond him. 
 
 " What did she say ? What did she do ? " asked the 
 boys of Remsen ; Will Hirsett's curiosity overcoming 
 his fear, and bringing him forward from his hiding- 
 place doubtless, with his eyes staring and mouth 
 yawning. 
 
 "Nothing," answered Remsen, panting and out of 
 breath. 
 
 "No, no! but what did she say? what did she do?" 
 the boys persisted in asking. 
 
 "Why, I told you the exact truth," answered the 
 besieged boy. "Now you want the exact falsehood, 
 do you ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! do tell us what she said," they besought 
 him. 
 
 " RUN FOR YOUR LIVES ! " said Remsen, in so peremp- 
 tory and threatening a voice that Will Hirsett and 
 3 D
 
 50 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 Dover instinctively started to run, although, to he sure, 
 they soon checked themselves, under the laughs of their 
 companions, and put the best (metaphorical) face upon 
 it that they could. Will Hirsett said that he " was in 
 fun," and Dover claimed that he " only just thought he'd 
 go away." 
 
 The appetite of these boys was not satisfied with 
 what they had already got. Some of the smaller fellows 
 began again the inquiry : 
 
 " Did she really say that, Remsen ? " which, though a 
 rhythmical utterance (indeed, not a bad ' trochaic 
 dimeter acatalectic' for young scholars, if we take ac- 
 cent in English for quantity in Gre^:), had no effect 
 upon the obdurate ears to which it was addressed ; for 
 Remsen was already running off; and now, calling Brade, 
 he, with his friend, left the company to themselves. 
 
 Towne was moving about, as if particularly important 
 and full of meaning : 
 
 <l I know something," said he, mysteriously ; and not- 
 withstanding Arthur Meadows's joke (which Arthur, at 
 least, enjoyed exceedingly), that " he was glad to hear 
 that ; for he had always supposed that Towne didn't 
 know any thing," Towne lost no time by attending to 
 him, but began bestirring himself, and calling out, 
 
 " Wilkins ! Wilkins ! Say ! look here, Willicks! " and, 
 having brought that worthy to himself, said loiully 
 enough for others to hear, " I've got a way to find 
 out!" and then, in a low voice, drawing \Yilkins apart, 
 at the same time began detailing to him some plan, over 
 which he himself chuckled a good deal as he told it. 
 
 Then, aloud again, he asked his confidant ' if that 
 wouldn't be splendid," and received his assurance that 
 it was " first-rate."
 
 THE BLACK WATCH, 51 
 
 If nothing has yet been cleared up, possibly this plan 
 (still more possibly something else) is yet to give us all 
 more light. 
 
 Here, as we wish to keep the good opinion and good 
 will of all our readers, we advise those who have no 
 mind for thought, to skip over this next half page or so, 
 which is written for such as will read it, if there are 
 any such. 
 
 As mysteries in human life are things which have 
 their whole being in human consciousness, and that is an 
 element more changeful and shifting, more full of tides 
 and currents, and waves and eddies, than is the ever- 
 flowing sea itself, so a mystery may, like a thing afloat 
 upon the water, be wafted into a sheltered cove, where 
 it falls and rises with the ebb and flow of tide, and is 
 left behind when the water has run out ; or it may be 
 flung aloft into sight on the cresting top of a breaker, 
 and drawn back in the blind disorder of its recoil, and 
 carried off; or it may be cast up and abandoned on a 
 beach, a thing of no account, or a clean and harmless 
 thing, or a thing foul, offensive, and pestilential ; or it 
 may, ere it be borne fairly within grasp of hand or ken 
 of eye, sink into the depths, and never more come up 
 to light of day. 
 
 This mystery of young Brade may be perhaps but a 
 harmless, pretty thing, perhaps no mystery at all; 
 perhaps, if we may keep up our figure, not more a 
 mystery than a summer boat, riding in still water a little 
 way offshore and not ad lift, but fastened, although the 
 moorings chance to be on the further side from us 
 unseen. 
 
 Perhaps, too, there is more in it than this.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE BOY'S OWN ACCOUNT OF IT. 
 
 MEANTIME, it must be supposed that the boy him- 
 self, though generally seeming indifferent, as boys do in 
 such cases, was sometimes annoyed at being the object 
 in this way of constant conjecture and occasional 
 watching. 
 
 That afternoon, when they had got a little way from 
 the rest, he stopped, hot and panting, from his run with 
 Remsen, and said, after some delay and with some 
 difficulty, though at the same time without whimpering 
 or breaking down: 
 
 " Remmy, I wish the fellows would stop, now ! They 
 might plague me, or just us boys in the school, but 
 they've got no business with other people." 
 
 Remsen, for his part, was willing to take a friend's 
 share : 
 
 " I'm sure they're welcome to plague me, too, Anty, 
 if they want to ; I don't care," he said. 
 
 " But," said Antony, seriously, " they've no business 
 to bring Mrs. Ryan into it." 
 
 *' Oh ! " said Remsen, " that's only their nonsense, and 
 it won't, do any harm. They've got a notion she's put 
 here to watch over you." 
 
 To Remsen, at his time of life, a romance of that 
 sort would, perhaps, seem as natural as any other 
 happening.
 
 THE BOY'S OWN ACCOUNT OF IT. 53 
 
 " But I never made-believe I was any lord, or any 
 thing; so I don't care about that," said Brade. " I don't 
 suppose any person believes it, and I don't mind " 
 
 His young companion was not quite so ready to let a 
 romance go out of life 
 
 " But I do believe you are something, Bradey ; I'm 
 pretty sure of it ; every thing looks like it," answered 
 Remsen, laying on piece after piece of probability, until 
 he had a pretty good pile. " And they do send away 
 their sons in disguise : don't we read about 'em in 
 books ? " 
 
 " But I told you I wasn't, Nick, I said I wasn't. I 
 never told anybody such nonsense. I'm just a man's 
 son, like any of the boys." 
 
 "But you never saw your father, Anty," argued 
 Nicholas ; " nor your mother." 
 
 " No, I never saw them," said Antony ; " but, then, 
 I know about them." 
 
 "But what was he?" asked his friend. "Do you 
 really know?" and it might have seemed as if he were 
 at the very brink of the mystery. 
 
 Brade was a little fellow to have the keeping of a 
 secret big enough for a man ; but for a moment he was 
 as thoughtful as a man, and then said : 
 
 " I know a good deal about him, to be sure I do ; " 
 and now again it might have seemed as if the mystery 
 were already almost open to the eye. 
 
 As they were drawing near to the buildings, they 
 turned off toward the play-ground again. 
 
 " Well, won't they let you tell ? " asked his com- 
 panion, eagerly. 
 
 Again Brade was silent, as they walked, and then 
 answered :
 
 54 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " All I know isn't much of a secret. I should like 
 to tell you, I'm sure, Rem. I will, some time ; " and he 
 locked his arm with Remsen's. " I can tell you my 
 mother was very beautiful, and very good," and he 
 hesitated and was bashful, as most boys would be, 
 and he put up his free hand and clasped it with that 
 which held Remsen's arm. 
 
 " Oh, I know she was ! I'm sure of it! She must have 
 been ! " said Remsen, who evidently felt almost, if not 
 quite, as strongly as his friend, and whose voice hesi- 
 tated just about as much. He drew Antony's arm in 
 closer to himself as he spoke. "And what was your 
 father, Anty?" he asked. 
 
 The fading of the daylight and the chilling of the 
 air very likely intensified the feeling of both, although 
 they probably had no thought that coldness and dark- 
 ness were symbols of separation and mystery. Here 
 there was a silence again, as they walked, and then 
 what seemed like an agitated movement of the young 
 sharer in (more or less of) a great social or family 
 secret. Remsen hastened with his sympathy : 
 
 " Oh, no matter, Bradey ! " he said : " if you can't tell, 
 I won't ask." 
 
 "It isn't any thing very strange, only I can't, now," 
 said Brade. "You tell people there isn't any thing at 
 all, won't you, Remmy ? There really isn't, I'm sure 
 there isn't. If anybody asks you, you won't tell them 
 there is any thing, will you?" 
 
 Remsen promised, as strongly as if he knew the 
 whole already ; and they turned again toward the 
 buildings. 
 
 After another silence as before, Brade went a little 
 further in his confidence :
 
 THE BOY'S OWN ACCOUNT OF IT. 55 
 
 " I know my father was an honorable man." 
 
 Remsen was quick to take this up. " There, that's 
 it ! I knew it ! " he said. 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean that!" said Antony. "I don't 
 mean so ; but she always said ' he was a man I might 
 be proud of.' " 
 
 " Why, I thought she died before you knew any 
 thing," said his friend. " I didn't know you ever saw 
 her." 
 
 Here was another bit of mystery. 
 
 " Oh ! my mother died before my father did," said 
 Brade, not clearing it up much. 
 
 " I'm just the same way," said Remsen, glad to be 
 able to share his orphanhood, " only I've got a father. 
 But who was it told you ? " 
 
 This question seemed to throw Aotony all back. " I 
 don't know ; let's let it all alone," he answered. " Mr. 
 Warren knows. Only I know there isn't any thing 
 very wonderful; and there isn't any harm in it, I know 
 that." 
 
 To this last assertion Remsen answered : " Oh ! 
 nobody ever thought of that ! What bad would there 
 be, if you had a great title ? " 
 
 Young people are pretty much like older people in 
 the matter of curiosity, only more frank and straight- 
 forward with it. So Remsen tried once more at another 
 point, leaving these that his friend might be expected 
 to feel too strongly about. 
 
 " Has Mrs. Ryan got any thing to do with you?" he 
 asked, in this way bringing them back to the point from 
 which they had wandered. 
 
 Poor Antony seemed to be struggling with the diffi- 
 culties of hi' position, unwilling to be so reserved
 
 56 ANTONY JiRADE. 
 
 with his friend, and yet unable to speak freely to 
 him. 
 
 " Remsen ! " he said, pulling the arm which was 
 between his two hands, "I don't want to talk any 
 more about my things. You see, if I know any thing, 
 I can't tell, because I haven't got any right to ; but it 
 isn't much." And, when his companion had promised, 
 Antony made a little further advance : 
 
 " Now mind, Nick, you won't say there is any thing, 
 if anybody asks you or not." Remsen promised 
 again, and Brade continued: "Then I'll tell you as 
 much as I can. She doesn't meddle with me at all, 
 but I know she's good. She's one of the best persons 
 that ever lived in the world, everybody'd like her, 
 and the boys mustn't insult her!" 
 
 Nothing that he had said had shown more feeling 
 than this; and Remsen, too, was very much moved. 
 They were near the buildings again, and lingered. 
 Remseu answered for the boys : " Oh ! they won't, 
 Bradey! they didn't mean any harm, they won't!" 
 Remsen's question had been fairly answered ; and yet, 
 if the boy thought it all over, he would see that little 
 change had been made in the mystery. Who Mrs. 
 Ryan was, and what she used to have to do with 
 Brade, was rather deeper in the dark than ever, be- 
 cause now it was plain that there was something 
 between them; and yet they had nothing to do with 
 each other. Moreover, it had been told him that 
 Brade's father was a " man to be proud of," and an 
 " honorable man ; " but who, or what, or where the 
 father had been, was still as unknown as before. And 
 then, too, there were some people that were keeping 
 Antony Brade from telling all he kne\v, which might
 
 THE BOY'S OWN ACCOUNT OF IT. 57 
 
 be little or much, but which was, of course, not so 
 much as those other people knew. 
 
 Some writers of novels describe what passes in the 
 minds of their several characters, as positively and 
 minutely as what these say and do. We cannot treat 
 the personages of our little drama in this way : they 
 seem to us too real. And so, of Remsen, we can only 
 say that boys of just about his cleverness, and bearing 
 such a relation as he bore to Brade, are capable of good 
 argument (wanting only experience of life), and art 
 more under the influence of feeling than men. The 
 track of reasoning which we have pointed out, Remsen, 
 we think, would be likely to take ; and we think that 
 Brade's positive statements, as to what his father was 
 and was not, being both few and slight, would be likely, 
 as time went on, and as he thought the whole thing 
 over, now and then, to grow less and less, in propor- 
 tion ; while that which was unknown and behind the 
 bars of secrecy, being capable of shaping into grandeur 
 and wonder, which Brade would well befit both in body 
 and spirit, and also, being capable of unstinted stretch 
 and growth, would be likely to fill more and more 
 place in his thought and memory. 
 
 The lamps were lighted when the two young friends 
 went in, and streams of boys, up stairs and down, and 
 this way and that, in the entries, were moving, as they 
 usually move in idle times. One boy, occupied with a 
 book, and another, idle, were standing under a lamp, in 
 a corner. 
 
 Boys never escape banter, from some one or other 
 
 of their fellows, when there is any occasion for it ; and 
 
 traces of the strong feeling which Remsen and Brade 
 
 had so lately gone through were still to be seen, 
 
 3*
 
 58 ANTONY URADE. 
 
 when they showed themselves in the hall, to the knota 
 and pairs of standers and walkers there. 
 
 "Hillo! what's the matter, Emperor?" called out 
 one of the loiterers, as the light fell upon Brade, who 
 was hurrying quietly past toward the school-room. 
 
 Brade neither stopped, nor made answer of any sort; 
 but Remsen took his place, and, going up to the boy 
 who had spoken, said quietly, 
 
 "Look here, Charley Leavitt ! he's just been telling 
 me about his father and mother, and he feels bad : 
 don't trouble him ! " 
 
 " Why, can't a fellow talk about his father and 
 mother, without feeling bau about it ? " Leavitt asked, 
 but lowering his tone, considerately. " His father and 
 mother may be very big ; but I suppose every fellow's 
 father's the same to him." 
 
 " Well, but his father and mother are dead," an- 
 swered Remsen, " and he don't know very much about 
 'em, because they died before he was born " 
 
 Just then an unexpected diversion was made, which 
 drew the conversation away from Brade, as well as 
 could have been wished. 
 
 "Look here!" said Towne, who was just coming 
 from the school-room, as Remsen had reached this 
 point, "how's a fello' goin' to be born when his 
 father and mother's dead?" 
 
 Blake, who was standing, reflectively, under the lamp, 
 now showed that he had his ears open. 
 
 " You needn't try that now, Towne," he said very 
 gravely. " It's how you can get along, now you are 
 here." 
 
 Brade and his orphanhood, and all that was unknown 
 about him, were forgotten by this time ; so Remsen
 
 TEE BOY'S OWN ACCOUNT OF IT. 59 
 
 
 
 followed his friend into the school-room, and found 
 him there, surrounded by half a dozen others, who were 
 making out their Latin, asking him questions which he 
 answered without book. 
 
 Brade himself seemed entirely happy now; and, when 
 their hanging light needed turning up, mounted to the 
 top of a desk with great alacrity, before any one else, 
 to set it right. 
 
 As he stood there, for a moment, he was certainly a 
 bright-looking fellow, and, to those who can be in- 
 fluenced by looks, decidedly interesting. He happened, 
 to be sure, to be a well-dressed boy, and, for that 
 matter, altogether well-dressed : from his collar and 
 neck-ribbon down to his well-cut shoe, with silken 
 braid for tie, all having the air of a refinement inborn 
 in him, and showing itself in every bend and joint of 
 his body ; and it was his good shape and features that 
 made his dress particularly becoming. Two or three 
 words more, as he is the hero of this story, we will add, 
 with our reader's leave, to his portrait. He had dark 
 hair, cut short, after the manner of school-boys of the 
 day, but wavy even in its shortness. A few freckles, 
 on his cheeks and across his nose, did not disfigure him, 
 but only showed the fairness and delicacy of his skin. 
 In fact he was, outwardly, a very good specimen of 
 school-boys. 
 
 An odd-looking, indeed a fantastical-looking boy 
 had been hovering not far away from this group during 
 the time that Brade had been among them, and with 
 his eyes very often turned to Brade, eyes which 
 showed a good deal of white between the iris and the 
 lower lid, and gave their owner a dreamy expression. 
 Soaietimes he drew near, and was apparently just
 
 60 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 ready to speak, and sometimes moved off again, but 
 never to any considerable distance. As Brade jumped 
 down to the floor, the boy, starting suddenly forward, 
 took him by the arm, drawing him toward the side of 
 the room, and saying, at the same time, 
 
 " Look here, Bradey ! I want to tell you something.'' 
 
 "Never mind Peters, Brade! lie can wait. What 
 does ' obvenerat* mean?" called out one of the studious 
 company engaged at the desk. " Oh ! here's Meadows ! 
 Come along, Meadows : we want to pump you." But 
 the new-comer, winding between desks and across 
 seats, found his way to his own books, and sat down by 
 himself. 
 
 Brade, who had moved a little way off with Peters, 
 now stood still and asked, like one going against his 
 will, whether it was " any thing very particular." 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " said Peters, " something very particular, 
 indeed. It won't take a minute ; " and he tried to 
 draw Brade aside still further. 
 
 " He wants to tell you about St. George and the 
 Dragon, or Sir William Wallace, or something he's 
 been reading!" Nick Remsen called out. 
 
 " No, I don't, really and truly. Really I don't," 
 pleaded Peters. Brade yielded again, and went a little 
 way further apart. 
 
 " May I trap with you ? " Peters asked. " You know 
 I'm pretty lucky." 
 
 " Oh ! that's all ! " said Brade. " You must ask Rein- 
 sen : I don't mind, if he doesn't. Was that all ? " 
 
 " No, it wasn't all," said the other boy, hesitatingly, 
 as if he had some reluctance about saying all that he 
 had to say. " Look here ! " he began, with a queer 
 sort of abruptness, " you didn't want any succor out 
 there, to-night, did you ?"
 
 THE BOY'S OWN ACCOUNT OF IT. 61 
 
 The most important word in this sentence not being 
 a boy's word, he slurred over, in his pronunciation, as 
 if a little afraid of it. 
 
 " Why no ! I didn't want any supper out there-," said 
 Brade, laughing. " I don't know what you're talking 
 about ; " and he looked over toward the others, as if 
 to see if they were watching. 
 
 , No one seemed to be attending to them (Rcmsen 
 being engaged in lively conversation with one or more 
 of the Latin-readers, the chief speaker of whom he 
 called Wadham) ; and Peters, having apparently satis- 
 fied himself of the same fact, said with great earnest- 
 ness, as if he had something on his mind or conscience 
 till he could get rid of it, 
 
 " They used to call it ' succor' when they went round 
 helping everybody, in the old times," he did not say 
 days of chivalry, " but I mean when that black lady 
 was there. You wasn't afraid of her, were you ? " 
 The poor fellow was thinking more of what he wanted 
 to say than of his grammar. 
 
 "Afraid of her?" asked Brade, impatiently. "No! 
 what should I be afraid of ? " 
 
 " You don't believe she's any thing but a common 
 woman ; do you ? " Peters asked. 
 
 Brade fired at this. " What do you mean by ' a com- 
 mon woman' ? " he asked. 
 
 " Why, a woman with great power," answered the 
 other, innocently, "one that can do more than a com- 
 mon person. They were laughing at me about chivalry ; 
 but I'd. have dared to go, if it had been necessary. I 
 would, indeed ! " Peters pleaded as if his character or 
 happiness depended upon Brade's believing him. 
 
 Antony's expression of indignation was changed, at
 
 62 ANTONY BIIADE. 
 
 once, for an expression of contempt, which Peters 
 seemed to feel deeply. 
 
 " She can't do you any harm, can she ? " Peters 
 asked. 
 
 To Brade, at this distance of time from the late 
 scene on the play-ground, and the talks with Rcinsen, 
 no painful recollections needed to have been called up 
 by such a reminder as this from Alonzo Peters ; but 
 he seemed now inclined to be angry at any reference to 
 what had passed ; and having turned his eyes again 
 toward the other boys in the school-room, as if to see 
 if any of them were hearing, he answered : 
 
 " No ! what harm do you suppose she's going to do 
 me ? You needn't come meddling between me and any- 
 body." 
 
 " I don't want to meddle," said poor Peters, who was 
 pitched upon such a key that he could not make him- 
 self understood. 
 
 " I should think gentlemen's sons would know better 
 than to insult a woman," said Brade. " If they want to 
 plague me, they may." 
 
 " Did they insult her? " asked Peters. "That's just 
 what the knights were for, to prevent people's being 
 insulted. But the fellows thought she was a sort of a 
 watch, or a sort of a woman with great power " 
 
 Brade interrupted him : 
 
 " But what fools they must be ! They're not babies, 
 to believe any such nonsense." 
 
 " Well," said Peters, " /didn't mean to insult her (you 
 know I've only got a mother), only, if you wanted 
 anybody to stand by you, I wouldn't be afraid." (It 
 was strange what a valorous young person this slight, 
 large-eyed, flaxen stripling professed to be.)
 
 THE BOY'S OWN ACCOUNT OF IT. 68 
 
 " I don't want anybody to stand by me about that," 
 said Brade ; " and I only wish not to hear any more 
 about it, please." 
 
 At this moment they heard the Tutor's signal, and 
 became aware that every one was hurrying to his own 
 seat for roll-call ; and so their conference suddenly 
 ended, with a hurried request from Peters, taking Brade 
 by a button, 
 
 " I can trap with you, can't I ? " so eager, that Brade 
 laughed, as he answered that " he didn't care." 
 
 " What did that old Peters want?" asked Remsen, 
 as they went to supper ; and when he heard the prop- 
 osition about trapping, which was all that Brade 
 reported, objected strongly to " taking that moony 
 fellow in." He yielded, however, to his friend's good- 
 natured mediation, and was persuaded at last that they 
 could get along with Peters easily, a conclusion which 
 he filled out by adding, " We needn't have him with 
 us much, anyhow."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 TOWNS' S PLAN. 
 
 BOYS' secret plans may not be very deep ; but there 
 is in laying them and carrying them out often immense 
 excitement and profuse concealment, which last, indeed, 
 sometimes defeats itself, and is the cause of discovery. 
 There are some boys who think themselves more cun- 
 ning than all the race of tutors, who may be abashed 
 perhaps, and depressed momentarily, by a discovery, 
 and then rally their self-confidence again, and brag as 
 before. So, too, there are others who accept these 
 heroes' estimate of their own capacity, and follow 
 them ; and others again, who, whether they believe in 
 their leaders or not, are ready for a frolic or a plot, and 
 tumble into it as they would tumble into a boat which 
 another was pushing off shore. No adventure is with- 
 out attraction for boys. Towne, as we may remember, 
 had professed to know a trick for discovering the hid- 
 den relation between the woman in black dress and 
 Antony Brade, and from the moment of its conception 
 worked pretty sedulously at it. 
 
 Wilkins was one of the first of his confidants, and 
 enjoyed the enterprise extremely. A good deal of this 
 confederate's activity was bestowed in giving intima- 
 tions, aside, to boys particularly boys larger than 
 himself that something good was going on. Others,
 
 TOWNE 'S PLAN. 65 
 
 not saying much themselves, laughed meaningly, when 
 spoken to about the secret, and gave it to be under- 
 stood that they knew all about it. In this way was 
 created a pretty general expectancy in the school. 
 Towne himself was going about making requests or 
 holding conferences, apart, with different boys, gen- 
 erally laughing and gesticulating much while he talked, 
 and having the appearance of being very busy. 
 
 Pie was not indiscriminate in these conferences, for at 
 the approach of certain boys as Remsen and others 
 he was at once silent, or drew away his listener. 
 Tom Hutchins he often addressed, and was listened to 
 a little loftily, as by one in advance of him. Most of 
 his confederates were of his own Form or lower. One 
 thing very inopportunely interfered with the devotion 
 of these cunning fellows to business, and very much 
 cut up the spare time which they could bestow on 
 their preparation for carrying out the plan, whatever 
 it was. 
 
 This inconvenient and ill-timed obstacle was the 
 keeping-in of many or most of the knowing ones 
 Towne pre-eminently, always for disorder some- 
 where or other, in school or dormitory or wash-room, 
 or elsewhere ; for not knowing lessons, or for chalking 
 backs, or kicking other fellows' feet, or tickling ears 
 in the recitation-room, or setting crooked pins, like 
 Bruce's caltrops at Bnnnockburn, with the point up, on 
 the seat of an unfortunate fellow reciting, who is using 
 all the wits he can find in his head upon Cajsar's accusa- 
 tives and infinitives and se and sibi, or the Greek aorist 
 participle, which he takes for a second person singular. 
 Day after day, as the sun slowly went down the western 
 side of the sky, he described his wide segment of a
 
 66 ANTONY BRADE. ' 
 
 circle over the head of Towne and his companions in 
 misfortune, scattered in the school-room with dreary 
 faces, sometimes bent over a book, and sometimes 
 turned reproachfully at the unsympathizing school- 
 room clock. The time had been when Towne had tried 
 the persistent practice of not learning, and persistent 
 assertion of his inability to learn the "lines" imposed, 
 quoting his father and possibly his grandfather in sup- 
 port of the assertion ; but as this, instead of bringing 
 him an easy remission, had heaped up the unlearned 
 lines unremittingly, he had of necessity conformed 
 somewhat to inexorable conditions, and taken to doing 
 some reluctant and indignant work at his task. He 
 made amends (as far as it would go) by complaining 
 aloud, out-doors, when at length, with all kept-in boys,, 
 he was set free for the afternoon at half-past four 
 o'clock. 
 
 What time he had to himself, however, he used 
 pretty industriously. In a corner of the gymnasium, 
 seated on one of the mattresses, until the noise of foot- 
 ball or hockey grew too loud to be endured passively 
 by a boy who certainly had a constitutional love of 
 play, if he had not a constitutional inability to learn 
 "lines," he was busy at "some black thing" (so it was 
 said), and had a door-keeper to watch against sudden 
 intrusion. As may be supposed, few of the boys cared 
 for Sam Towne's secret operations ; and Blake, of " Ul- 
 terior-College "-notoriety, said, in his absurd way, that 
 " old Towne was one of those fellows that would 
 climb up a tree to get a good tumble." Almost every- 
 body would be content to wait the development of 
 time to know his great secret. The post of door- 
 keeper, therefore, even though it combined the duties
 
 TOWNEES PLAN. 67 
 
 of general watch, grew tiresome and stupid, for there 
 was nothing to do in it. While things were in this 
 state, on the second or third afternoon, the shortening 
 days and chilly evenings giving warning of winter 
 coming, and making the blood in healthy boys run fast 
 to keep warm, Towne was singing " Dixie " in his cor- 
 ner, when Nick Remsen walked quietly in, to look for 
 a hockey-stick, which, as he said, he had left there, and 
 (as it happened) under the very mattress on which 
 Towne was sitting. 
 
 That industrious fellow, almost before Remsen had 
 taken the place of his shadow inside the door, had 
 managed to thrust under himself, and to spread himself 
 over, the greater part of a quantity of black stuff on 
 which he had been working with needle and thread 
 while he sang. 
 
 The song he continued, looking aloft at the beams 
 of the ceiling, and trying to seem very much taken up 
 with it. As soon, however, as he allowed himself to 
 espy the intruder, which he could not help doing soon, 
 and had asked him the apparently purposeless question, 
 " Where he came from ? " Towne rolled himself over, 
 carrying the mattress over him, and leaving the floor 
 bare for Remsen to satisfy himself. Now, of course, 
 Remsen, seeing so good a chance, instantly rolled the 
 mattress as far over as it would go, suppressing 
 Towne entirely under it, and then put himself on 
 top, to keep him down ; and of course Towne, like 
 Enceladus under .^Etna, made mighty struggles, which 
 Remsen set himself to resist. There is a wondrous 
 leverage in the joints of legs and arms, which, the mo- 
 ment Towne could bring them to bear, carried mattress 
 and boy together right over, for Remsen's weight
 
 68 ANTONY Bit ALE. 
 
 added to that of the mattress was not much ; but, as 
 the mattress fell to the floor, there fell, at the same 
 moment, Towne's secret. This looked like a black 
 gown, but whether feminine or academic there was 
 scarce time to see ; for Towne gathered it hurriedly up, 
 and, keeping it on the further side of himself, made it 
 into a parcel, while the other boy, swinging his hockey- 
 stick, departed, being met outside by Antony Brade. 
 
 At this juncture the door-keeper made his appear- 
 ance, and was sharply reproved ; " for what business had 
 he to go away just when a fellow was going to poke his 
 nose in where he wasn't wanted ? " Poor Wilkins (for 
 he it was who was officiating in the undesirable post of 
 watchman) excused himself on the ground that "he 
 hadn't been away more than a minute," and also that 
 " he had been there all the time," and ended with the 
 unanswerable appeal, "who could tell that a fellow 
 would be coming just then ? " which excuses, as there 
 was no help for it, and Towne was not an absolutely 
 irresponsible despot, with bowstring or beheading-block 
 at his service, were necessarily accepted. 
 
 Then Towne, taking the state of things as it was, 
 told Wilkins that " they must hurry up and get through 
 with the job, or their secret would be all found out ; 
 that he himself was not quite ready, but was ready 
 enough, he guessed ; and now was the time ! " Wilkins 
 began at once to be impatient, and danced, and looked 
 out at the door for other untimely visitors. Then, by 
 the leader of the great secret, three extraordinarily sig- 
 nificant whistles were given, outside of the gymnasium, 
 and then (having failed of effect the first time) were 
 repeated, and again repeated, and again and again 
 repeated, until at length, as Towne kept marching
 
 TOWNS' S PLAN. 69 
 
 about like a bagpiper, while he uttered his signals, one 
 boy after another, as if just waking up to the meaning 
 of things, came running to him, to the number of four 
 or five, for the most part pretty small lads. 
 
 One of these was sent straight off, with much 
 authority, to summon Wadham First, who w r as within 
 .sight, and the others were kept waiting till the leader 
 was ready for them. 
 
 Towne advanced, like a man full of a good deal, to 
 meet Wadham, and sent the messenger back to the 
 rest. 
 
 " Look here, Wadham," said Towne, " I've got the 
 best thing ! I want you to get a black dress from your 
 house, I'll take good care of it. I'm going to dress 
 up like that Mrs. Ryan, only in fun, you know, 
 just to see what Brade'll do. I was making one, but 
 they found me out, and I don't want 'em to know it." 
 
 Wadham, if not as enthusiastic as the contriver of 
 this scheme, entered into it with some spirit, possibly 
 because he may have known the state of things at 
 home. Accordingly, he undertook to supply what was 
 wanted ; and Towne, having pledged him to secrecy, left 
 him, to join his own followers. 
 
 These, with a lofty summons of " Come, fellows ! " he 
 drew off, not into, but behind the gymnasium, and there 
 held a secret conference with them, laying out plans 
 and assigning duties. 
 
 o o 
 
 Wilkins (of gentle blood, late door-keeper) claimed 
 and obtained the general office of what he called 
 " peekin'," asserting also that " a fellow'd got to know 
 what he \vas about to do 'peekin" well." 
 
 " Now, Wilkins," said Towne, " you'll have to be 
 sharper'n you ever was in your life." ("Why, I'm
 
 70 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 always sharp," said Wilkins.) "And," continued 
 Towne, not heeding this suggestion, " you'll have to 
 give a signal, you'll have to say something if a tutor 
 comes. But Fatty Dover's most importance. Now, 
 Fatty, you've got to rig right up, as soon's the lamp 
 goes out, and come to Royalty's alcove, and walk right 
 in, you ain't to show your face, remember, and, 
 quick as you come in (I shall be there, you know), quick 
 as you come in, I'll show the dark lantern right on you, 
 and say, 'Why, Mrs. Ryan,' or something, you know," 
 he said, with a little bashfulness, when he came to 
 authorship in the English language, however bold and 
 self-confident about the other effort of his mind, which 
 he was detailing. " I'll say something. Then you see 
 what he'll do." So said the author of this cunning 
 plan, confidently. Whether one plot would or would 
 not have differed much from another, to their appre- 
 hension, certainly this seemed to meet their approval. 
 Allowing a moment for his allies to take in the char- 
 acter of his contrivance at this culminating point, and 
 taking as cheers and as what grammarians call " rhe- 
 torical question" their inquiries, What he thought 
 Brade would do ? would he fight her ? or would he 
 be frightened ? he then went on to show how he had 
 provided for all emergencies and contingencies ; how 
 he first, and " Fatty " next, were to get out of Brade's 
 window, at the first alarm, and, as the contriver ex- 
 pressed it, " put for bed, flat-footed, over the school- 
 room roof." 
 
 " But they'll find that dress," said Fatty Dover, look- 
 ing into the future, as so many plotters have done 
 before. 
 
 " No, they won't find that dress," answered Towne.
 
 TOWNS '8 PLAN. 71 
 
 " You strip it off, like a duck sheds water, and chuck it 
 right over the roof, and get into bed, that's all you've 
 got to do ; and after they've gone and all quiet, I'll go 
 down and fetch it. Well, suppose they did find it," he 
 continued, second thoughts coming up to him, "it'll 
 be fun to have Wilson hold it up in the school-room. 
 Only," here third thoughts came in, showing that 
 our young friend had not bad feelings, "I wouldn't 
 like any disrespect of a respectable woman ; but I've 
 got that all fixed complete." 
 
 From the smile which brightened the leader's face, as 
 he contemplated his own skill and sure success in pro- 
 viding for the recovery of the dress, a smile, indeed, 
 which might be said to pervade his whole body, for it 
 not only drew out the corners of his eyes, and mouth, 
 and nose, but drew his elbows out also, and bent his 
 back and knees, it might be thought that, on the 
 whole, this last contemplated piece of cleverness was the 
 crowning contrivance of the whole plan. 
 
 The allies were eager to share in this part of the 
 secret, and in the leader's satisfaction ; but he put them 
 all off, with the assurance that " they'd know, bymby." 
 Wilkins claimed special confidence, on the ground that 
 " he was goin' to peek out for everybody." But he 
 teased in vain, Towne telling him that if he used that 
 word so much they'd call him " Peak o' Gibraltar " next 
 (asking if he wasn't right in supposing there was a 
 Peak of Gibraltar). There were some things that, like 
 a leader, he knew how to keep to himself; and, in short, 
 Towne kept his secret, and, having cautioned Fatty 
 Dover and the rest not to say a word or give a look to 
 anybody about the business, he dismissed them. 
 
 Now, having Wilkins alone, he satisfied that worthy
 
 72 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 confederate's curiosity ; for by this time, very likely, he 
 was itching to communicate. 
 
 " Look here, Willicks," said he, " if this ain't the best 
 tiling yet. You know that old empty cask the masons 
 put there, by the school-room corner ? Well " (and here 
 he chuckled), " a fellow that's only half good at gym- 
 nastics can let himself down off the roof there, as easy's 
 not. But that ain't all: it's big, you know; and I 
 wouldn't be afraid but what I could hide in there 
 against anybody, if he wa'n't too near. There ain't 
 any moon, now ; and you know my gymnastic dress is 
 all gray. Well, you can't see that, in the night." 
 
 " Loose, too," said Wilkins, " so you would not look 
 so solid, would you ? " 
 
 This support from the science of Optics, Towne 
 neither accepted nor rejected, in words, but continued 
 on his own line : 
 
 "You know the rebel cruisers were painted gray, in 
 the war, and our vessels couldn't see 'em. They'd run 
 right before their noses, an' they couldn't see 'em. As 
 quick's he'd gone by, I'd go up on the roof in a jiffy, 
 and into bed, before he'd get along upstairs." 
 
 To most of us the American navy is synonymous 
 with whatever is daring and successful ; and no doubt 
 these two American boys had the true feeling of Amer- 
 ican boys toward the pet and pride of the nation. 
 But Wilkins had yet a standard of comparison which 
 held its own, even in face of the American navy. 
 " Would you run in those clo'es, right before a 
 TOOTOR'S nose ? " he asked. 
 
 If we had heard this sentence spoken, we should 
 very likely have laughed at the ludicrous figure pre- 
 sented of Towne, in his athletic suit, capering invisibly
 
 TOWNE 'S PLAN. 73 
 
 before the unsuspecting eyes of an official, or we should 
 have seized upon the rhyme, and rung the changes on 
 it, perhaps. But Towne heard it in the same sense, 
 probably, in which the author conceived it, and to him 
 one word drew off the force of all the rest. "Yes, 
 sir," said he, " I don't believe but what I could." 
 
 " I don't believe you could before Mr. Bruce," said 
 the propounder of the question, " you, nor nobody 
 else." 
 
 The conversation had been turned aside by this new 
 element brought in ; and, as if the private conference 
 were over, the two boys walked away. As they passed 
 the gymnasium door, a new turn was given to their 
 thoughts ; for Remsen and Brade were chasing each 
 other on the ladders, up one, across another, down the 
 third, by the hands, as busily and as noisily as if their 
 lives depended on it. 
 
 "There's Remsen and Royalty!" said Towne. "I 
 wonder we didn't hear 'em. I hope they didn't hear 
 us, there's a window open." 
 
 Wilkins found comfort in the fact, to which he called 
 his friend's attention, that the two boys were a great 
 way off from the window. But this did not satisfy 
 Towne, who said that " boys could move." 
 
 " Let's go in and chase 'ern all over those timbers, in 
 the gymnasium," he proposed ; and added, in a whis- 
 per, " if they've been listening, and heard what we're 
 going to do, you take Royalty (he's the smallest), and 
 I'll take Remsen, and if I catch him, won't I ? " And 
 he slapped his thigh with strong emphasis. 
 
 The notion of the wise contriver, Towne, seemed to 
 be that a little advantage gained over the two boys 
 would keep up the ascendency of the great plot. Let 
 4
 
 74 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 us, therefore, look upon the athletic contest which is corn- 
 ing as a little skirmishing before the lines of the great 
 battle ; boyish, indeed, but into which, for the time, is 
 turned the whole current of young life. 
 
 Wilkins excused himself from his share, as not being 
 " much of a gymnast," and being obliged to save " him- 
 self for bymby, when he'd have to be pretty sharp." 
 
 " Come on, old Gray-breeches," cried Brade, who, 
 though a good way off, seemed to have overheard the 
 conversation. " Wilkins is pretty sharp, and he won't 
 try me. You're the man, and I'll give you plenty of 
 chance. I'm so ' small,' you know." 
 
 That epithet " Gray-breeches " might or might not 
 refer to the "gymnasium suit" which was to play an 
 important part in the approaching adventure. Brade's 
 face did not show whether it had or had not any 
 special application, for he was full of excitement for 
 the play. 
 
 Towne, too, as soon as Brade, sliding down a rope, 
 began to " dare " him, set off, at the utmost speed of 
 longer legs than Brade's, in pursuit. 
 
 Then, if their mothors could have seen them, there 
 would have been many a shriek, and possibly some 
 hysterics. Up and down bidders, up ropes and down 
 ropes, and down and up the same rope, along cross- 
 beams, springing and catching by the hands, swinging 
 up and catching by the legs, heels over head and head 
 over heels, what a race that was, with Kemsen and 
 Wilkins cheering ! llemseu, it must be confessed, twice 
 to Wilkins's once. 
 
 Where length and strength would have an advantage, 
 Townc gained ; where litheness and nimblencss, used as 
 fearlessly as on flat ground, could play their full part, 
 there Brade got the better, for lie turned faster.
 
 TOWNEES PLAN. 75 
 
 Towne tried familiar sleights, to lure his antagonist 
 within his reach. He sat up, with folded arms and 
 closed eyes, at a beam's end. He sat, with back turned, 
 in the middle of a beam, and counted aloud. He 
 asked such thoughtful and abstracted questions as 
 whether his hearer, whoever he might be, " supposed 
 there really ever was such a man as Duncigetorix," or 
 " What's the cube-root of a quotient ? " He busied 
 himself with carefully untying and tying a shoe. By 
 all these devices he got nothing but to be told that there 
 was such a place as Dunci-Towne, and he had better 
 not try scholarship. 
 
 Great struggles have their breathing- times ; and 
 when, flushed and panting, the two antagonists sat 
 astride of different beams, watching each other, then, 
 too, Towne offered, like greater generals, when worsted 
 or unsuccessful, like Artaxerxes to the Ten Thou- 
 sand Hellenes, or Pyrrhus, the Epirote, to the Romans, 
 that " Royalty " should give in. In return he received 
 a shout of scorn, and a challenge to reverse the order 
 of things : he might run, and Brade would follow. 
 This he accepted, and again the flight and chase began, 
 hotter than ever. 
 
 Brade got, every now and then, near the shod ends of 
 Towne's long legs and close to his hands. But once, 
 as he came, in the eagerness of pursuit, to the top of a 
 rope which Towne had just slid down and clutched it, 
 he swung over, and falling came down in a heap on 
 one of the mattresses, us still as a stone. Remsen 
 rushed up with a cry of alarm, and Wilkins, too, rushed 
 up ; and although Towne held off, and called it a " make- 
 believe," yet when he saw the two sympathizers in ear- 
 nest, and the lithe and handsome boy lying silent and 
 helpless, he also hurried forward to help.
 
 76 ANTONY DRADE. 
 
 Reniscn had not succeeded in getting the cap off the 
 face over which it had been thrust in the fall, and Wil- 
 kins had not yet thought of any thing to be done. 
 Towne had probably seen or heard of such things 
 before. 
 
 " Stretch him out ! stretch him out ! " said he, bend- 
 ing over, and laying hold of one of the half-doubled 
 hands : " that's the way they do." 
 
 In an instant he was dragged down, and had taken 
 Brade's place, receiving, as he went to it, two or three 
 sharp applications of the two friends' hands; such as he 
 had himself intended to apply. Then Wilkins, his sup- 
 porter, was tumbled down on top of him, with as many 
 or more like applications; and then Brade made his 
 escape by the door, followed Iby Remsen. 
 
 "I knoo he was only makin' b'lieve," said Wilkins. 
 
 " Let 'em go ! " said Towne, not questioning his ally's 
 sagacity, but wiping his own wet forehead with a great 
 colored handkerchief. " lie can't try that dodge again. 
 Come along, and I'll show you something. Look out 
 for those two fellows." 
 
 The coast was clear outside ; and Towne, with Wil- 
 kins in company, went warily but quickly over to the 
 hogshead. 
 
 " Look here ! " said he, peering in and lifting up a 
 piece of board, " I'd squat down low under this, and 
 then, if anybody should feel in, he'd think it was the 
 bottom, in the night, or he'd think there was something 
 under it, and he wouldn't want to feel down. Hullo ! 
 there's some water! it's good I saw it. Villicks, you 
 pour it out, while I look out for those two follows." 
 
 Wilkins proceeded with alacrity to his task, but 
 made no more impression upon the strongly grounded
 
 TOWNEES PLAN. 77 
 
 hogshead than he might have made upon the crater of 
 Vesuvius, by pulling at one side of it. Then Towne 
 gave his length of arm and weight of body to the 
 work ; and then the two together soon brought the 
 further chines of the huge vessel over, and, as they got 
 it to a balance, Towne cautioned his far-descended 
 friend " not to let it come down too hard, or they 
 would have Mr. Stout after them, for he was in the 
 barn." 
 
 Slowly and wisely they were lowering it, Towne, 
 with successive mechanical appliances, was at the same 
 time working and teaching. They were standing now 
 at that angle at which Atlas is represented in his most 
 authentic portrait, where his great hands grasp his 
 knees and prop his body, on which the world is resting. 
 The boys' hands were at the level of their knees, on 
 which the lower lip of the hogshead was resting, while 
 the experienced Towne was showing his subordinate 
 how "they were going to lower it to its side so 
 softly it wouldn't break a robin's egg," when, without 
 the slightest warning, while the boys were thus stoop- 
 ing, one talking and one listening, as they worked, 
 the storm-house door, close by, burst open, a rush was 
 made, " Oppidum ! " cried Brade's voice, and down 
 upon the most prominent and exposed part of each 
 laboring workman fell a flat blow, loud and far- 
 resounding. The effect was instantaneous, 
 
 u Outch ! " cried Wilkins, at his share of the infliction. 
 " Hold on ! " said Towne, in spite of his. But at the 
 word the hogshead went heavily to the earth, rolled 
 swashing and lumbering down the little slope, gained 
 strength with going, broke short off at the ground one 
 weakly clothes-post, and laid it low with a crash, then,
 
 78 ANTONY DRADE. 
 
 sidling round, was making across the green for another, 
 with a hollow rumbling, that sounded as if it enjoyed 
 mischief. Towne and Wilkins, with one glance, seeing 
 most likely from the beginning what was likely to be the 
 end, followed the two aggressors, overtook Brade, whom 
 they treated as he had served them, and could not 
 overtake Remsen, who in running easily kept out of 
 reach. As Mr. Stout came from the barn, with a quiet 
 but quick and business-like step, to the late scene of 
 action, Towne and his follower began to come back, 
 having evidently no intention of running away. 
 
 Mr. Stout was a thin, middle-aged man, with a strong 
 New England face. He walked with a hitch in his step, 
 as if from rheumatism. 
 
 Now he, having cast a look after the riotous hogshead, 
 and also called to it to " stop when it got ready to," 
 proceeded to the broken and overthrown post, lifted its 
 lower end, and gave a short glance at the break, and 
 ended by a nod of the head. The vagrant hogshead 
 had by this time missed the other clothes-posts and 
 brought up, lengthwise, against a bank of earth. Mr. 
 Stout called to Towne and Wilkins. 
 
 " I want you boys should bring that cask back, as 
 fast as it went away, and set it up just where it came 
 from." And this he said like a man that was accus- 
 tomed to do what he ought to do himself, and have 
 other people do what they ought to do. 
 
 " I'll do it, Mr. Stout," answered Towne, with great 
 alacrity. 
 
 " And when you've got it there, I want you should 
 leave it there," continued that definite man. 
 
 "Mr. Stout!" said Towne, " we didn't roll it down 
 at all, sir : all we did was, we tipped it down just as
 
 TOWNEES PLAN. 79 
 
 carefully as we could, or as anybody could, I don't 
 care who he is, we did, really." 
 
 " Yes, that's plain to be seen," said Mr. Stout, grimly, 
 as he set up the late involuntary agent of mischief 
 firmly on its broad base again. "You found him here 
 so dreadful uneasy and mischievous, and thrashing all 
 round, you thought you'd just lay him down where he'd 
 be quiet. I see all that plain enough. But now, boys, 
 I want you should let it stand where I put it, and I 
 guess it'll take about as good care of itself as you'll 
 take care of it." 
 
 "We will," said Towne, leading off. "Yes, we will," 
 added Wilkins. Then, turning back, the leader asked, 
 "Do you want us to put that water in again, that was 
 spilt ? " 
 
 " No, I thank you," said Mr. Stout, with a pause be- 
 fore the thanks. 
 
 Towne led off again, saying aside to Wilkins, " All 
 we wanted was to get the water out. Let's go and have 
 a turn at shinney." And they ran off. 
 
 As they disappeared, the other two came up hastily, 
 after stopping to confer a little on the way, and caught 
 Mr. Stout half Avay back to the barn again. Brade 
 planted himself in front of the busy-looking man, and 
 with a strongly persuasive look in his face, and holding 
 by the front of Mr. Stout's waistcoat, and being drawn 
 along, he said, 
 
 " Mr. Stout ! Mr. Stout ! Won't you put that water 
 in again, with your hose ? and won't you let us see 
 you? Do, Mr. Stout! won't you?" 
 
 " Boys are very good at asking for what they want, 
 don't you think they be?" said Mr. Stout, walking on, 
 as straight ;is he could.
 
 80 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " The engine's pumping now," urged the "boy. 
 
 " And we'll see how long it takes to fill it half full 
 with. the hose," said Remsen, adding an inducement to 
 Mr. Stout's curiosity. 
 
 " May we ? " asked Brade, shaking the front of the 
 waistcoat which he held. 
 
 " We never saw it go ; and I've got a watch," said 
 Remsen, continuing the line of his appeal. " Oh ! do 
 now, Mr. Stout ! " 
 
 " S'pose I should, what's the great hurry ? " asked the 
 man, used to boys. 
 
 " We want to do it before the other fellows come," 
 said Remsen. 
 
 Mr. Stout during all this urgency did not change a 
 muscle of his face, and now, with the same unchanged 
 look, he brought the colloquy to a happy end, by say- 
 ing, 
 
 " Well, there's no getting away from boys ; " and he 
 turned and walked back with them, amid their profuse 
 thanks. 
 
 Brade was stationed near the corner of the laundry, 
 to w r atch and give warning; and Reinsert took upon 
 him to handle the hose.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ON THE EDGE OF IT, 
 
 TIME was going on : the dark evening was drawing 
 near, and with it that chill was closing in, which seems 
 .to wait a little way off for twilight. The shouts and 
 cries of boys engaged, not far away, " at shinney " or 
 "hockey," came round the corner of the house, while 
 Brade stood anxiously on watch, and Remsen impa- 
 tiently coaxed the utmost out of the hose. Just as the 
 quarter-bell before tea began to ring, Remsen gave 
 a shout of success, to which Brade answered. 
 
 Towne had not stopped to look on at hockey, but had 
 with all his might, and with his friend behind him, gone 
 in for a share in that eager play. With no fear of con- 
 sequences, he rushed into the thick of the game, while 
 Wilkins, acting like a fellow who had knowledge 
 enough of anatomy to know where his own shins were, 
 and had sense enough to take care of them, kept well 
 outside. 
 
 On his way to the wash-room, and afterward, on his 
 way to tea, Towne was a little noisy and exultant over 
 some " high old time " that he was going to have. He 
 and Wilkins each got a few " lines" for disorder at the 
 table; and in the school-room, after tea, "lines" fell 
 upon them and others of their allit's from time to time, 
 for idleness and whispering, and passing notes ; and 
 4*
 
 82 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 when, at last, the signal for First Bedtime was given, 
 Towne and Wilkins and Fatty Dover were all called 
 back and received a lew more lines for disorder in 
 hurrying out of the school-room. 
 
 "Never mind, fellows," said Towne, partly in a loud 
 whisper, and partly in a low voice, as he saw the coast 
 clear of the departing tutor, "now for it ! You. Fatty, 
 must get your dress on as soon as the light's out in the 
 dormitory, and tutor all gone. I'll give the signal this 
 way : ' Ahem ! ahem ! ' You'll have to be listening, for 
 it won't be loud, but just the way you heard, ' ahem ! 
 ahem ! ' Nobody'll ever suspect that ; " and, to do him 
 justice, the signal had a very innocent sound. But 
 Fatty Dover was in a condition to need stiffening. He 
 did not seem to himself at all calculated to carry out 
 the chief part. 
 
 "'Tain't the chief part," said Towne; and as Dover 
 objected that Towne had told him it was, he was 
 assured by the leader that " it was the principal part, 
 but it hadn't got any talking, and it wa'n't dangerous, 
 for he, the leader, was to be in there, and he was the 
 only one that had got any thing to say." 
 
 The irresolute subordinate objected that " it was 
 close by Mr. Cornell's door." 
 
 " Do you s'pose I haven't looked out for that ? " asked 
 Towne, scornfully. " What sort of a fellow should I 
 be to manage things, if I didn't know enough to look 
 out for that? Mr. Cornell's going out, and he's going 
 to be out the whole evening. I heard him say so to 
 Mr. Bruce." 
 
 " So did I," said Wilkins. Others confirmed this 
 statement. 
 
 " You've only got to be spunky! " said Wilkins, whose
 
 ON THE EDGE OF IT. 83 
 
 blood of generations was in a glow. " Why, I've got 
 to be peekin' out all the time, and that's more danger- 
 ous than any thing else, ain't it, Towne ? " 
 
 Without heeding this question, in the press of his 
 duties, Towne gave or repeated his hurried directions. 
 " There's the five-minute bell ! " said he. " Now remem- 
 ber ! You, Fatty, get ready, as soon as the lamp goes 
 out, and start out when I give the signal, and come 
 right to Brade's alcove ; and, Wilkins, you come out by 
 Mr. Cornell's door, and watch ; and, if you hear any 
 stirring, ask if you may go and get a drink; and, 
 Fatty, that's the signal; quick's you hear that, follow 
 me right out the window, and then shut the window 
 down, and along the roof, just the way we've been 
 doing ; and, Leavitt, you and Ransom have got to make 
 sure and light a light in the wash-room, as quick as the 
 tutor's gone, and be washing away there like every 
 thing, all over your heads. There ! there ! " said he, 
 summarily bringing his instructions to an end, as the 
 tutor called out, " Towne ! Dover! Wilkins! Ransom! 
 Leavitt ! Tarleton ! late ! " 
 
 Towne tried the persuasiveness of words, and began 
 pleading that " he had had something very particular 
 to say to those boys, and they didn't know how time 
 went." But this well-devised though not strictly orig- 
 inal phrase fell flat, and answered no good purpose : 
 the leader and his followers were hurried away to their 
 alcoves, and left to find comfort in the coming success 
 of their scheme. In due course the lamp was put out, 
 and the tutor departed.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE DOING. 
 
 WHOEVER has lifted the curtains of boys' alcoves, 
 soon after their inmates have gone to bed, and has 
 looked lovingly in, has seen a pretty sight. Generally, 
 the faces are lying most restfully, with hand under 
 cheek, and in many cases look strangely younger than 
 when awake, and often very infantile, as if some trick 
 of older expression, which they had been taught to 
 wear by day, had been dropped the moment the young 
 ambitious will had lost control. The lids lie shut over 
 bright, busy eyes ; the air is gently and evenly fanned 
 by coming and going breaths ; there is a little crooked 
 mound in the bed ; along the bed's foot, or en a chair 
 beside it, are the day-clothes, sometimes neatly folded, 
 sometimes huddled off, in a hurry ; bulging with balls, 
 or, in the lesser fellows, marbles ; stained with the earth 
 of many fields where woodchucks have been trapped, 
 or perhaps torn with the roughnesses of trees on which 
 squirrels' holes have been sought ; perhaps wet and 
 mired with the smooth black or gray mud from 
 marshes or the oozy banks of streams, where musk- 
 rats have been tracked. Under the bed's foot, after a 
 hard share in all the play and toil of the clay, lie the 
 shoes, one on its side, with the gray and white 
 Bocks, now creased and soiled, thrown across them ; a
 
 THE DOING. 85 
 
 cross is at the head, some illuminated text at the side ; 
 and there, in their little cells, squared in the great mass 
 of night, heedless how the earth whirls away with 
 them or how the world goes, who is thinking of them 
 or what is doing at home, the busiest people in the 
 world are resting for the morrow. 
 
 All was still, that night, after the Tutor's going. 
 Then, as the great constellations, made up of tremen- 
 dous worlds, and the huge separate glowing stars, were 
 all going through their vast turning in the boundless 
 emptiness of space, so the lesser plan of Towne began 
 its working in the Lower Dormitory at St. Bart's. 
 
 Scarcely had all grown still, when two sounds, by no 
 means noisy, from the throat of the leader, announced 
 to the associates in enterprise and peril that the work 
 was to begin. A flash of light might have been seen in 
 
 o o o 
 
 the dormitory, and possibly something like a chuckle from 
 some young voice was followed by another chuckle from 
 another young voice. As the light lasted, many cur- 
 tains were shaken, and many faces appeared looking 
 out from them as suddenly as flashes of northern lights 
 show themselves all over the side of the sky. All in 
 the same moment came a cry of alarm from the upper 
 end of the dormitory, something like, " Get out, you!-" 
 and in that part might be seen, by a dim light prevailing 
 there, a female figure in black dress and hat, retreating 
 precipitately from a counterpart female figure in ghastly 
 white dress and hat, precisely like, in shape and making, 
 to the other, though on a somewhat larger scale. 
 
 In another moment the black female had scrambled 
 away from before the white, and disappeared behind 
 the curtain of an alcove, from which came forth 
 repeated cries of, " Keep it off! keep it off! "
 
 86 ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 All this could not be gone through with without 
 excitement, as indeed what street is there, in what 
 town, where a scene like this could be enacted, with 
 faces on all sides looking out upon it from windows, 
 without a good deal of excitement ? Curtains were 
 suddenly drawn aside, and now a gathering of young 
 figures in long white dresses began to take place in the 
 middle of the room, the white counterpart of the 
 woman in black having disappeared as effectually as 
 the black figure. There was still a faint light at the 
 upper end where the two apparitions had been. 
 
 The elder boys were asking and answering questions, 
 with here and there a little fellow standing near ; but, 
 of the small boys, most stood in the doorways of their 
 alcoves?, holding the curtains aside and looking forth 
 with curiosity or apprehension. 
 
 Even the younger boys at school learn a good deal 
 of self-control ; and therefore none of these committed 
 himself, hastily, by words. Two or three seemed to 
 understand the whole thing, and were laughing heartily, 
 and trying to keep down the sound. 
 
 One voice was heard, but half-restrained, exclaiming, 
 "What a fool that fellow is, to be frightened! He 
 thought it was a ghost, most likely ; and ghosts have 
 been dead these thousand years, there ain't any now ! " 
 And so, venting his indignation, the owner of this 
 voice was walking up towards the light which still 
 burned at the upper end, when all at once there was a 
 general flutter and dispersion of the small boys; the 
 light went out, a tone of authority was heard, close by 
 the side of this malcontent, saying, " Towne, go to Mr. 
 Cornell's door, and wait there ! " and a whining sort of 
 appeal from a third voice, " Mr. Bruce, sir ! please, sir,
 
 THE DOING. 87 
 
 may I go and get a drink?" at which there was a 
 many-throated laugh of derision from curtained alcoves 
 at the untirneliness of this request. Towne, also, 
 laughed a short laugh, as he walked. Moreover, while 
 these things were going on, all at once the larger boys 
 in the middle of the floor at the same moment were 
 saying, " We didn't have any thing to do with it, sir ; we 
 only came out to see what was going on," and were 
 told mildly to go to their alcoves, and thereupon dis- 
 persed. 
 
 Mr. Bruce had lighted a candle which he carried, and 
 went straight to the alcove in which the black figure 
 
 o O 
 
 had disappeared, and from which the cries of terror 
 had come, but which was now as silent as all the 
 others. 
 
 " Dover !" said he, drawing aside the curtain; and 
 Dover, in his usual voice, answered. All around was 
 altogether still. 
 
 " What were you making all that noise about ? " asked 
 the Tutor. 
 
 " I didn't know I was making a noise," said Dover. 
 
 "I judge it was you by the voice," Mr. Bruce said, 
 " calling, ' Get out ! ' or something like it." 
 
 " I was frightened, sir," answered Dover, treading 
 along the dizzying brink of discovery, if not with strong 
 and dauntless stride, yet with unexpectedly firm step, 
 if one might judge by his voice. 
 
 The Tutor bade Dover come to him after breakfast, 
 and in the mean time to keep his bed and go to sleep ; 
 and then went across the dormitory to the opposite 
 alcove. Here Remsen was in bed, and, like a sensible 
 fellow, was not making-believe to be asleep ; and near 
 the curtain, as the candle showed, was standing our
 
 ANTONY BIIADE. 
 
 young friend Antony, looking somewhat sheepish, but 
 quite as much amused at the recognition. 
 
 Mr. Bruce did not smooth the front of author- 
 ity : 
 
 " I'm sorry to have to speak to you " (Evade, though 
 he said nothing and looked down, had certainly not a 
 very guilty expression). " You know it's a very serious 
 offence, Brade," he said, "to be found in another's 
 alcove." 
 
 Young Brade looked up, ready to speak, but did not 
 interrupt. The Tutor paused. 
 
 "I didn't come to anybody's alcoA T e, sir," he answered. 
 
 " Of course you know what you're saying," said Mr. 
 Bruce. " You were in Remsen's alcove a minute ago : 
 do you mean to say you were brought there ?" 
 
 The boy stood in his long white night-gown, with 
 his bare feet on the bare floor, half full of fun, half full of 
 fear. 
 
 " Oh, no, sir, not that," said Antony. " But I mean 
 I didn't come up the dormitory to go to anybody's 
 alcove : I only ran in there to hide away." 
 
 Mr. Bruce's voice changed, decidedly for the softer, 
 and doubtless his face showed as great a change. 
 
 " Come to me immediately after breakfast," he said, 
 as he had said to Dover. " Now go to bed instantly, 
 Brade, and go to sleep as soon as possible." 
 
 Before the words were well spoken, Brade, in his 
 white night-gown, was scampering down to the other 
 end, and across the dormitory. 
 
 Mr. Bruce looked into each alcove as he went down, and 
 then up the other side. Towne, meanwhile, danced and 
 took different attitudes, as if to keep himself warm 
 and occupied, at his tiresome post. At length the Tutor
 
 THE DOINO. 89 
 
 came back and found time to attend to him, making 
 this little address: 
 
 "Now, Towne, it's very unpleasant to find you at the 
 bottom of all the mischief that's going on." 
 
 " I don't see how that is, sir," said Towne. " You only 
 found me walking along the dormitory as peaceable as 
 could be." 
 
 " Where do you belong, sir ? " asked the Tutor, 
 sharply. 
 
 " In Brunswick, sir. No, I wasn't thinking, sir : my 
 alcove's " 
 
 " Twenty lines for impertinence ! (Not a word, sir !) 
 Go straight to your alcove, and don't be found out here 
 again," said the Tutor. 
 
 " I won't, if I can help it, sir," answered poor Towne. 
 "I didn't mean" 
 
 " Not a word, sir ! " said Mr. Bruce ; and Towne went 
 away, with an inarticulate murmur, to his place. The 
 Tutor, having seen all safe, went his way. 
 
 When the flap of the spring-door, at the further wash- 
 room, showed that he was out of hearing, Towne exulted 
 as loudly as he dared, that, by that cunning trick of 
 impertinence, he had made Mr. Bruce forget to tell him 
 to come after breakfast. 
 
 Mr. Cornell's door was ajar, as it had been all the 
 evening, with a light shining through ; but no change 
 had taken place there implying that the occupant had 
 come in. Mr. Bruce had left every thing, outwardly, as 
 it ought to be. The dormitory had taken on again the 
 stillness of night, broken very slightly by what seemed to 
 be calls from one side to the other at the upper end. The 
 adventures of the night were not over, however, for that 
 unrestful place of rest. Towne's alcove and Dover's
 
 90 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 adjoined each other; Towne's being the uppermost, on 
 the right hand, on that floor. Between those two went 
 a loud whispering, growing often to a deeper voice. 
 
 "I want to go to sleep," said Dover, at last, a little 
 more loudly ; " and Mr. Bruce told me to. I chucked 
 'em over on to the ground," he added peevishly ; but 
 the other's success in pulling the wool over one tutor's 
 eyes made him anxious for further adventures. 
 
 " Good boy ! " said To wne, patronizingly. " If you're 
 afraid, I ain't : so here goes ! " 
 
 A voice from the opposite side came across the six- 
 foot alley-way, sounding like Ulterior Blake's : 
 
 " I say, Oppidum, you daresn't go out ! Mr. Cornell 
 '11 snap you up. He'll be just coming home, humming 
 a toone, just now, and he'll snap you up just as a toad 
 does a fly. I'll bet you two cents you don't dares't to 
 go out ! " 
 
 No answer came from Towne, though the speech was 
 intelligible, if not good English. In the stillness which 
 
 ~ ' O O 
 
 followed, a window might have been heard slowly open- 
 ing. Immediately a boy came from the opposite alcoves, 
 and, in a whispered shout, called out : 
 
 "Fellows! fellows! "Look out on the roof! Towne's 
 gone out, in invisible clo'es, to dodge Mr. Cornell! 
 Won't there be fun ! " 
 
 " It's dark as Erebus ! " said a very assured voice, 
 louder than the rest, as many windows were hastily 
 thrown up. "Ovdsv OUT" dxrwaai OVT I8nv fan. Rcmsen, 
 how do you expect us to see?" 
 
 "Hear that fellow! "said another. "I say, Gaston, 
 do keep your " 
 
 " Fellows ! fellows ! " said another voice, which was 
 certainly our friend Brade's, almost bursting with fun
 
 THE DOING. 91 
 
 and excitement, as he ran by several alcoves, " Towne 
 has gone out there to run before Mr. Cornell in his 
 gymnasium suit, so that he shouldn't see him ; " making 
 pretty clear, in spite of the confusion of personal pro- 
 nouns, that Towne had gone out on the roof to execute 
 some daring and hazardous feat of activity, with which 
 Mr. Cornell, the Tutor, was in some way associated. 
 There was a stir and flurry on all sides. Objections 
 and hasty discussions took place in several alcoves on 
 the school-room side, as between boys wanting to go 
 through and boys not willing to let them. 
 
 " Fellows ! you'll catch your death o' cold ! What's 
 the use ? " said some elder, gravely, probably the delib- 
 erate Blake. 
 
 Then a more authoritative voice : 
 
 " Thompson ! Mason ! Lawrence ! don't let those little 
 fellows out on the roof! Do make 'em go back to bed ! " 
 And, in compliance with this exhortation, Brade, Ran- 
 som, Leavitt, and others, were called by name, as if 
 already on the roof, and bidden (without apparent 
 effect) to go to bed. 
 
 " We've got blankets round us," answered several 
 voices. "Russell better come out himself." 
 
 Meanwhile, from the slight murmur to be heard out- 
 sido the windows, and the low cries of " Look out ! " 
 " Isn't it dark?" " Don't walk oif !" it might be known 
 that many boys had got through all difficulties to be 
 near Towne's feat. Cold had not stopped them ; dark- 
 ness had not stopped them; and there they were. 
 
 " gh ! sh ! " was cried, to enforce silence ; Remsen, 
 as before, explaining that there was going to be great 
 fun. 
 
 "Have you got it?" whispered a voice, somewhere 
 in the darkness below the common level.
 
 92 ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 "Yes!" answered another, somewhere in the same 
 direction, speaking in his ordinary tone, and therefore 
 easily recognized as Towne, and going on like a hero, 
 as he evidently felt himself. 
 
 "Now don't I wish Mr. Cornell was about three rods 
 off! but it's cold, I tell you ! " 
 
 The words reminded some of the others that their 
 clothes were thin, and they began to move ; but the 
 boys' proverb about the nearness of a person talked of 
 was strikingly illustrated on this occasion, as on so 
 many others. A good, manly tenor voice, a little way 
 off, was heard singing " Days of Absence." 
 
 Mr. Cornell ! Mr. Cornell ! " was the cry. " Down ! " 
 and some were heard fleeing; and some were heard 
 going down on the tin roof, with a sudden thud ; and 
 some were heard struggling with laughter. 
 
 "Sh! sh!" said that fearless and eager lad, 
 Remsen, again, going about. " Hold on ! Towne hasn't 
 got through yet," and the audience was still enough to 
 catch the faintest sound. 
 
 Feet without shoe-soles scurried over the ground 
 below. 
 
 " Sh ! " said the same eager lad. " Now look out ! ' 
 sh!" 
 
 There was a sort of scramble down there below, 
 where Towne seemed to be, and then a splash ! with a 
 suppressed shuddering " Oh-h-h ! " and Towne had evi- 
 dently met with a sudden surprise. 
 
 A roar of laughter started from many of the boys on 
 the roof, suppressed as soon as possible, and as much as 
 possible, but beginning, as hearty and genuine laughter 
 will, to spread. 
 
 " Get under the cover, Towne ! get under the cover! "
 
 THE DOING. 93 
 
 said Brade, his voice scarcely recognizable, for trembling 
 so with laughter. 
 
 " You better hold your clack, Royalty, or I'll crack 
 your crown ! " retorted the poor fellow, splashing. 
 
 " Plow do you suppose that water got back ? " asked 
 a quavering voice. " 'Tain't rained, has it ? " 
 
 This sounded like Wilkins. 
 
 " Wilkins, why didn't you let that water out? " said 
 Remsen. 
 
 Down below, the state of things had changed within 
 
 I O O 
 
 a few seconds essentially. Towne, whose leap to the 
 back of his great adventure (to use a figure), had been 
 so vigorous and masterful, now soused in chilly water 
 was not the same boy. His stout and tutor-defying 
 voice was changed. 
 
 " I ain't a-goin' to stay here and freeze ! I don't care 
 if he does catch me ! " he muttered. " I'll give it to 
 somebody for this ! " and then a floundering, and the 
 brattle of the water in the cask, cold-sounding 
 enough to make the very listeners shudder, implied 
 that the unexpectedly immersed hero was retreating 
 from his position. 
 
 " It is written," said Gaston's voice, " that the Greek 
 philosopher lodged in his cask ; but, as Towne ain't a 
 Greek philosopher, I don't see what he wants to take 
 up his habitation in a hogshead for." 
 
 Strangely enough there was no interference of the 
 much-talked of Mr. Cornell. 
 
 " Are you visible, Towne ? " Brade asked. 
 
 " I'll visible you ! " said the interrupted adventurer. 
 
 "He can't see you in that gray suit," said Remsen. 
 " Look out, fellows, if you don't want to get spattered, 
 if he comes up. Mr. Cornell wa'n't there at all," he
 
 94 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 continued, confidentially turning to those near him. 
 " That was Lawrence : we got him to sing like Mr. 
 Cornell." 
 
 But now a new element came in. 
 
 " Towne ! " cried Mr. Brace's voice, which had been 
 heard so often that evening, and which now came, 
 not from the ground, but from one of the dormitory 
 windows, showing that he had stolen a march upon the 
 absent inmates. The boys on the roof scuttled or 
 fluttered, whichever may be the better expression 
 for a noisy motion, which partook of those of tortoises 
 or seals, or the like, at the water's edge, and birds 
 startled from a brake. 
 
 " Come to that storm-house door, and I'll let you in," 
 continued Mr. Bruce. 
 
 "Whoever put that water," said Towne> going 
 away shivering, " wish I had him head in it." 
 
 The boys silently retiring at the presence of the 
 Tutor began to giggle, as poor Towne vented his 
 threats. 
 
 Mr. Bruce, having lighted the dormitory lamp, went 
 down, being doubtless listened to closely as he went, 
 step by step, and heard to turn the key of the back 
 door. 
 
 " Wait a moment, Towne," said the Tutor, who 
 seemed to find it necessary to repress the boy's eager- 
 ness to reach his alcove. " Follow me, if you please ; " 
 and then might be heard, coming along the hall and up 
 the crooked stairs, two sets of steps, one brisk and 
 trig, the other heavy, flat, and wet, even to the ear. 
 
 In the " Cross Dormitory " the boys were sitting up 
 in their beds, as the Tutor, with great gravity, and poor 
 Towne, looking pretty sulky and savage, went by.
 
 THE DOING. 95 
 
 From the sounds which came forth, it would seem that 
 neither admiration nor sympathy was the overpowering 
 emotion with the witnesses of the adventurous Town e's 
 present condition. Mr. Bruce stopped, just inside of 
 the large dormitory and near the lamp ; and near him, 
 of course, stopped Towne. The Tutor did not look 
 strictly along the alcoves, or he would have seen that 
 many faces, with very slight effort at concealment, were 
 peering out at the sides of the curtains. 
 
 The victim of misfortune was certainly a most ridic- 
 ulous figure ; for, whether the hogshead had been nearly 
 full, or whether he had gone into it " squatting," he was 
 soaked and streaming from his neck to his feet. 
 
 " Move about, Towne, until I've done with you," said 
 the Tutor, " or you'll spoil all the ceiling of the school- 
 room below. Distribute your streams a little." And 
 poor Towne began traversing, like a machine, a large 
 circle, laying the dust (if there was any) effectually. 
 
 " Mayn't I go to bed, sir ? " asked Towne, in a voice 
 intended, perhaps, to be severe and distant, but which 
 came near setting the whole dormitory off in a fit of 
 laughter. Tittering and repressed sobs did make them- 
 selves heard. Towne, nevertheless, kept up his best 
 dignity, and uttered one more sound : 
 
 I'm" 
 
 " Oh ! " said Mr. Bruce, " you've been going through 
 a preparation for going to bed, have you, sir ? Where 
 have you been since I saw you last ? I told you not to 
 let me see you here again." 
 
 " No more I wouldn't, sir," said Towne, " if you'd let 
 me have my way ; but you wouldn't." 
 
 Even the gravity of Mr. Bruce gave way a little 
 before the boy's pitiable figure. " You didn't r'emem-
 
 96 A V TONY BKADE. 
 
 ber the rules about bathing, I think ? " he asked, 
 smiling. 
 
 " I'm sure, sir," said Towne, stopping his round, and 
 dripping where he was, " this is pretty good keeping 
 the rules ; for if I went ' a-bathin' out of doors' it can't 
 be said but what I had a tootor to see to me." 
 
 This time the furtive laughter may have been with 
 Towne instead of at him. His pluck appealed to the 
 boys' sympathy, and possibly conciliated also the kindli- 
 ness of the Tutor ; for he certainly immediately released 
 the unsuccessful adventurer from his enforced round. 
 
 " Come, Towne ! have you got a rough bathing- 
 towel ? " said he ; and, having secured one from some 
 volunteer in an alcove, he took him into a bath-room, 
 where, after making him strip himself of his slight 
 clothing, which clung closely to him, and throwing the 
 soaked garments into the bath-tub, he gave him so 
 thorough a rubbing-down that poor Towne more than 
 once cried out, and came out of the operation glowing 
 all over. 
 
 Then Mr. Bruce sent him to bed in a night-gown, 
 borrowed, like the towel, and bade him " good-night ! " 
 
 " Isn't that hogshead a good place, Towne ? " " Did 
 the water fit you, Townie ? " were questions addressed 
 to the retiring adventurer, interrupted suddenly by the 
 arrival of Mr. Cornell in his room. 
 
 The dormitory, after this, was still.
 
 CPIAPTER X. 
 
 THE NEXT MORNING. 
 
 THE sun came up, next day, as he usually comes up 
 at St. Bart's, at that time of the year. First comes a 
 scattering of golden lai'gess far forward on the sky; 
 then a crowing of all the cocks, ns if they had not 
 begun and kept it up for three or four hours already, 
 to be sure to hit the time when it did come ; a general 
 standing-round of all trees, damp and frosty from the 
 night ; next the comfortable salutation of farmers, 
 smock-fro eked and respectable, across the way ; then 
 the blowing of the horrid steam-whistles ; next the 
 cheery ringing of St. Bart's bell ; then the slow, sober 
 sun himself. 
 
 The first use that Fatty Dover made of his morning 
 strength and intelligence, that next day, was to rush 
 out of the storm-house door, and by the hogshead, and 
 over the triumphant part of Towne's track of the night 
 before, searching all sides with his eyes, as he ran. 
 He went the length of the school-room, and along the 
 western end ; and then from where he stood he sur- 
 veyed anxiously the neighborhood, and then, disap- 
 pointed, turned back. 
 
 The wash-rooms were noisy that morning, with 
 anecdote and laughter, all drawn from the fruitful 
 experience of the night before. The jokes were poor, 
 5 o
 
 98 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 as most men's, and almost all boys' jokes are ; but boys' 
 jokes, if not those of men, also, answer as good a pur- 
 pose in the world as a great many devout and unselfish 
 writers profess to expect or to hope from their books, 
 which, as their authors say, will have answered their 
 purpose if one pious soul shall have received comfort 
 or edification from them. The amount of gratification 
 given to at least one person by each witticism here 
 would have pleased those friends of mankind. 
 
 Gaston, who ventured more into the province of clas- 
 sic history and invention than his neighbors, had given 
 Towne the nickname of " Jfvadvonwog " (anadyomenos), 
 which, as it was not generally imderstood, he explained 
 at large. " As Venus," he said, " had risen from the 
 sea, so Towne had risen " 
 
 " From the seo-a-s-k," said Thompson Walters, trying 
 a pun of his own. 
 
 This proceeding necessarily took from the freshness 
 of Gaston's joke ; but the boys, in the end, got as much 
 satisfaction out of it, for they called the hero of the 
 last evening " Venus ; " and young Meadows, who, like 
 Gaston, in lesser degree, had pushed into mythology, 
 started a demand of him for apples. 
 
 The hero himself tried to show that " that water was 
 one of the best things for him that could be ; for, if 
 anybody had tried to find him in it, ten to one he'd 
 have put his hand on the water, instead of him." 
 
 Remsen was spoken of as having been the woman in 
 the white dress, or the ghost, and commended ; but 
 Dover was quizzed by pretty nearly everybody who 
 knew how to quiz after any fashion. It seemed a 
 tender point with him, this morning, that he had not 
 been able to find the black dress, which Towue in his
 
 THE NEXT MORNING. 99 
 
 adventures had dropped and left behind ; and he was 
 asked " how he would feel if he should see Mr. Wilson 
 in that gown, making a fool of him before the whole 
 school." 
 
 Russell, a Fifth Form boy, had caught, and brought 
 away, a "poetical" outpouring of Antony Brade. This 
 Russell read, with great enthusiasm, and it was received 
 with much appreciation by the public in the wash- 
 room : 
 
 " ' A Towne leaned over a hogshead's brim, 
 
 To see its own face far down ; 
 And tumbled in. If it could not swim, 
 What else could it do but drown ? ' " 
 
 rt Pooh ! " said Hutchins, almost as soon as the read- 
 ing began, " you say Royalty wrote that ? I'm sure he 
 never wrote that ! I know I've heard something like 
 that, something about a ' town ' and a ' cask,' a 
 Senior in college couldn't do that." 
 
 " Blake's the fellow to tell what college fellows can 
 do," said Gaston. 
 
 " Where's Blake ?" asked several voices ; and when 
 Blake appeared, with his face and hair all dripping 
 from a wash-basin, and blowing water from his nostrils, 
 Hutchins appealed to him, 
 
 "Look hei'e, old Ultimatum! wouldn't it take a 
 'Senior' to write that?" 
 
 " He hasn't heard it," said the chorus. 
 
 Blake, however, was above any such necessity : 
 
 " That don't make any difference," he said. " At my 
 college, out there, the fellows get through with all their 
 literary work before they get to be Seniors. Seniors, at 
 Ulterior, do as they like. It's all practical work, then,
 
 100 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 ' scientific ' they call it, they keep tally at base- 
 ball, and keep ' time ' for fellows rowin'." 
 
 " Let's have the rest o' the poem," said Thompson 
 Walters ; and Russell went on reading : 
 
 " ' A Tutor's summons came o'er the spot : 
 
 That Towne began to rise : 
 A very wet Towne, by no means hot, 
 But all right otherwise.' " 
 
 So well received was this second stanza that when 
 Hutchins began to object that he " knew a poem by 
 some great poet, De Kalb, or De Forest, or some- 
 thing," he was called upon by many voices, in lan- 
 guage more vigorous than elegant, to " shut up." 
 
 " That isn't all of it ? " said Thompson Walters. 
 
 " Oh, ' lame and impotent conclusion ' ! " said Gas- 
 ton, quoting, no doubt, from some of his great books. 
 
 Russell was not inclined to forsake the rhyme, or 
 hear it disparaged : 
 
 " You'd better try it yourself, Gaston," he said. 
 
 " And do it in Latin," said Walters. 
 
 "I can," said Gaston, "if I try," and began to 
 think : 
 
 " De Oppido audivisti, 
 Et ejus sorte tristi " 
 
 He had gone pretty glibly over two lines, as far 
 as most rhymesters go well, and the flow of verse 
 was obstructed. 
 
 " And there you grow rather misty," said Walters. 
 
 " Now give it me, please, Russell," said the author of 
 the English verse, who stood at the wash-room door, 
 blushing; and, receiving it, blushing he disappeared. 
 
 In the younger wash-room a crowd of lesser fellows
 
 THE NEXT MORNING. 101 
 
 surrounded him and teased him for a sight, for the 
 fame of it had already reached them ; but he tore it 
 into a hundred pieces, and flinging them into Leavitt's 
 face escaped again. 
 
 At this point the veritable Towne himself appeared, 
 and a sudden whim seized several boys, all at once, to 
 shoulder him, and give him a triumph. There was 
 little time, but that only made them go about it the 
 more quickly ; and for the first thing had him up with 
 his head pretty hardly thrust against the ceiling. Gas- 
 ton called out from a distance, 
 
 " ' Sublimo vertice sidera feriam.' Fellows ! Fellows ! 
 you've made him see stars I " which could hardly give 
 Towne any comfort. 
 
 The rest, full of their work, said that " Towne had 
 taken cold, in saving himself from drowning ; " and 
 were just going to toss him in a blanket to cure him, 
 when suddenly the two-minute bell (which they might 
 have expected) struck. Down tumbled Towne, as 
 many a hero before has tumbled from a triumph, and 
 was left sprawling, to gather himself up, and go back, 
 as he was, to every-day life. The others scampered 
 up stairs or down, according as they were, or were not, 
 nearly enough dressed. 
 
 'Many were the delinquencies, besides Towne's, at 
 roll-call that morning, and many the losses of break- 
 fast ; but among those who were in their places at that 
 meal were Dover and Wilkins, b9th of whom had been 
 summoned to Mr. Bruce's room after breakfast. Dover 
 had begun to eat and drink with his usual appetite, 
 which was one of the best ; but a certain piece of intel- 
 ligence which gave, as it passed about, a pleasurable 
 excitement to his neighbors, disturbed Dover to such an
 
 102 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 extent that he accomplished far less than he was in the 
 habit of doing; and when the tables were dismissed, he 
 rushed hatless and breathless out of doors, and then 
 with a question at random, " Where is it ? " forward, 
 toward a most conspicuous object which had already 
 attracted the attention of passers-by on the road. 
 
 This object was a black dress, hung up and spread 
 out, to full length and width, on one of the pear-trees, 
 and surmounted by a woman's black hat. At first a 
 sort of astonishment seemed to open his eyes and to 
 slow his steps. He may have wondered, perhaps, how 
 it got there ; he may have been questioning how it 
 could be got down ; but, with his eyes wide open and 
 his lips apart, he made steadily for it, as if nothing else 
 existed. 
 
 Already boys began to pelt this tempting object with 
 whatever they could find; and then (alas for Dover!) 
 a large boy (Phil Lamson) set himself, as large boys 
 sometimes will, directly in the way, and faced him off 
 from whatever way of escape he tried. The shower 
 of missiles, for some reason, slackened and then sud- 
 denly ceased ; and then Dover tried as hard as he could, 
 and entreated his stopper to let him go. It was all in 
 vain. 
 
 Dover saw Brade under that tree ; and with him Rem- 
 sen, longer-armed than he. 
 
 He begged and besought to be let alone (" There's 
 Brade and Remsen now ! " said he), but could not get 
 away. 
 
 The cause of the stoppage in the flight of stones and 
 sticks was soon evident. " Dover ! " said a voice be- 
 hind him, as exactly measured as the fling of a lasso, 
 " I thought I told you to come to me after breakfast ; "
 
 THE NEXT MORNING. 103 
 
 and Mr. Bruce appeared, with Mr. Cornell, walking 
 leisurely. 
 
 " So you did, sir ; and I'm coming, sir ; but " an- 
 swered the boy, looking round toward the tree. 
 
 " If you don't want to make a butt of yourself, 
 Fatty," said Phil Lamson, aside, " clear out and thank 
 me." 
 
 On the South Road, close by the school-grounds, a 
 carriage had stopped in the way, within near sight of 
 the tree with the black dress. 
 
 " Eldridge ! " said a lady's voice, of that courageous 
 sort that is not afraid to go across any open space, and 
 encounter any ears (as in this case, Mr. Bruce's and 
 Mr. Cornell's), "how much time have we got ? I don't 
 want to miss that train. There ! that's an effigy ! It's 
 something those boys have been getting up. It's Science 
 or Learning, or something. (I wonder Mr. Bruce don't 
 see us.)" 
 
 The proper name she pronounced with great distinct- 
 ness. 
 
 " Ma ! " said Miss Minette Wadham, who was with 
 her, "don't you see what that is?" 
 
 " To be sure I do ! " said the mother. " I understand 
 it. Boys " 
 
 Eldridge ventured an assertion that "it looked to 
 him amazin' like one o' Miss Wadham's dresses." 
 
 " What ? No ! " exclaimed the lady, in excess of 
 amazement. "What? That ain't the dress I lent" 
 
 While the occupants of the carriage gazed at this 
 extraordinary exhibition, Antony and his taller com- 
 panion were very busy at the tree, but without climbing 
 into it. 
 
 " Brade ! " said Mr. Bruce, calling from a little dis- 
 tance.
 
 104 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 Just as he spoke, almost at the very word, a 
 sudden flame began to creep, and then to climb, and 
 then to leap up and over the dress, which was of some 
 flimsy cotton fabric; and in a few moments the tree 
 showed nothing on its leafless limbs but rags of glow- 
 ing red, and then of black tinder. There was no wind, 
 and the boys had had to run away from the falling 
 shreds of flame which for an instant came down 
 thickly. The two Tutors continued their leisurely 
 walk to the scene. 
 
 While this was going on, Mrs. Wadham worked 
 about in her seat, and seemed on the point of speak- 
 ing, and of course looked very red. It could not be 
 but that she should feel her dignity involved, at this 
 public destruction of a garment formally borrowed of 
 her ; and her daughter, we may suppose, could not 
 help sympathizing, as daughters do. Miss Minette, 
 however, had a smile on her face ; and, turning herself 
 away from the scene of the catastrophe, looked stead- 
 fastly in the opposite direction. 
 
 " It was loaned," said Mrs. Wadham, beginning the 
 process of recovering her self-assurance, " for the pur- 
 poses of investigation, of an investigation. Well," 
 she continued, a little flurried, but showing her native 
 strength, " all are to perish in the using. It ain't 
 showing much ceremony ; but we'll sacrifice ceremony 
 on the altar of investigation ! Yes, on the altar 
 of investigation ! Drive on, Eldridge ! Do your 
 pootiest ! " 
 
 " There's the Caput ! " was cried ; and there, sure 
 enough, not on the ground, but at his study win- 
 dow, looking out, he stood. 
 
 Most of the boys were already hurrying away, to
 
 THE NEXT MOENING. 105 
 
 make the utmost of their short time between breakfast 
 and prayers. Foot-ball was already in active play, and 
 foot-ball was the only thing in the world, now, to every 
 boy but Dover, Brade, and Remsen, and such others as 
 might have to do with the authorities, for the activities 
 of last night. 
 
 " I set it on fire, sir," said Brade to Mr. Bruce. 
 
 " And I gave him the match, I did, indeed, sir," said 
 Remsen, seeing the Tutor smile. 
 
 The scene at the tree over, the Tutors sought the 
 Rector. 
 
 They felt clear that the thing had been a masquer- 
 ade, to look like Mrs. Ryan (" the lady that came to 
 church with her daughter," as Mr. Bruce explained), 
 "because the boys thought she was a watch over 
 Brade." 
 
 " And Brade has set it on fire, I suppose," said the 
 Rector, "and no wonder." 
 
 Mr. Bruce added another piece of information, 
 that " he believed the dress was one of Mrs. Wad- 
 ham's." 
 
 " Well, certainly, if she lent it, that's her look-out," 
 said the Rector. " We must punish playing with fire ; 
 but I'll take off a good deal for the provocation. I'm 
 sorry to have Brade's score lose by another boy's 
 fault. Towne may learn wisdom some of these days." 
 
 Though the few minutes before Prayers, and the 
 Recess in the forenoon together, were not enough for 
 the examination of the young fellows engaged in the 
 fun of last night, it was all done with before dinner, 
 in time to go on the school-room slate that afternoon. 
 The result was that Towne came out, poor fellow, with 
 a special infliction of lines and bounds, as the chief 
 6*
 
 106 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 offender ; and the rest of the boys in that dormitory 
 were treated pretty evenly with lines proportioned to 
 their technical age or standing in the School, in order 
 of Forms. 
 
 The fire was not forgotten, but handled lightly this 
 time, with the reason given. 
 
 With this all were pretty well satisfied, except poor 
 Towne, who muttered that " when a fellow got wet 
 through and shivering, the way he'd been, they ought 
 to have compassion on him, and not punish him hard, 
 like that."
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 MS. PARMENTER DRAWN TO THE FLAME. 
 
 THE bkze of that dress of Mrs. Wadham's, if it had 
 not flashed into a great many eyes of Eastham people, 
 had yet been heard of in the post-office and the store, 
 and in many a private house and homestead of the 
 town, within a few hours after that dress had become 
 tinder. Public opinion had not satisfied itself " how 
 Mrs. Wadham's dress came to be on that tree," or 
 " how it came to be set on fire." That " she had lent 
 it to be a sacrifice or something," was part of the gen- 
 eral information, and was wrought-in through the 
 public discussions of the subject, but did not help to 
 make things plainer. 
 
 This contribution to the fund of general knowledge 
 was, most likely, made by Eldridge, who, in coming 
 back from the cars, made visits of some length to both 
 store and post-office. 
 
 One man there was in Eastham to whom the affairs 
 of Town and School were alike near; and to him was 
 many a question proposed, to find out " what those 
 boys had been up to, there, at Saint Bartholomew's 
 School." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter, a leading man and a leading trustee 
 of St. Bart's, had the reputation of keeping himself 
 pretty closely informed of whatever took place there.
 
 108 ANTONY BEADS. 
 
 The School, as it had happened, though still in its early 
 infancy, had had the benefit of more than half as many 
 heads as it had seen yea.'S ; and this variety and abun- 
 dance was said to be owing to the vigilant supervision 
 and unremitting interest of that active trustee. 
 
 Sometimes he was coming out of the stable ; some- 
 times he was looking into the kitchen ; sometimes he 
 was talking or asking about ai'rangements in the cellar. 
 He was occasionally bringing information to the Rector 
 of the School, and occasionally asking information from 
 him ; he was corresponding with parents, and he kept 
 up continual intercourse with the under-masters and 
 the boys. 
 
 This assiduous devotion was said not to have been 
 approved by any of the different heads, so far; and 
 one after another, like swiftly circling stars, had rolled 
 off into space. 
 
 Mr. Parmenter's way of discharging the duties of his 
 office of trustee, if not properly appreciated by the 
 several rectors, was very efficient in its kind. He never 
 left the other members of the Board in ignorance of 
 weak points in the administration of the School ; and 
 he never failed to administer comfort to the existing 
 Rector, and to excite him to noble effort, by showing 
 him how inferior his predecessor had been, and making 
 him familiar with the chief short-comings of the former 
 administrations. 
 
 With this active spirit in him, we may be sure that 
 it was not long before Mr. Parmenter put himself in the 
 way of possessing all the information that Avas to be 
 had. 
 
 The Reverend Mr. Warren, Rector of St. Bart's 
 School, was walking up and down upon the piazza, and
 
 PAEMENTER DRAWN TO THE FLAME. 109 
 
 apparently in that state of settled thoughtfulness iii 
 which one rests himself now and then, or draws himself 
 off from his care by looking for a while at this thing, 
 or listening for a while to that person^ 
 
 As he paced to and fro, he stopped at one time, and 
 fixed his eyes steadily, though not very actively, on the 
 figures of a horse and rider coming along the South 
 Road, and leaving behind them a little cloud of dust, 
 such as can be raised, even just before winter, in certain 
 conditions of our soil. The horse, as could be seen, 
 even from a distance, was a good one ; and his gait, 
 an easy gallop, showed good training. Having looked 
 in that direction for a moment or two, Mr. Warren 
 turned and walked again. 
 
 The rhythmic sound of iron-shod hoofs drew nearer, 
 was deadened for a moment, and then clattered up the 
 short road-way to the School buildings. The walker had 
 turned, at the end of his beat, and was coming back, 
 just as the rider was close at hand. 
 
 About the latter there was something of what is 
 called " air," as he sat his horse, with his heels de- 
 cisively down, the rein held lightly, and the whip 
 under his arm. He was a little stiff, perhaps, but looked 
 as if he knew that he was right, and as if there was no 
 other way of doing what he was doing than that. His 
 salute was something very definite also. 
 
 " Good morning, sir ! " he said, from the little distance 
 near the side-gate. " You've been having quite a piece 
 of fireworks, I hear." 
 
 "Why, no; nothing of any consequence, that I re- 
 member," answered Mr. Warren, and invited Mr. Par- 
 inenter, his visitor, to come in. 
 
 The horseman excused himself for want of time.
 
 110 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " One of our ladies has lost a portion of her ward- 
 robe, I'm told," he continued, smiling. " No disorderly 
 conduct among the boys, I hope ? It occurred to me 
 that it might be necessary to make some atonement. 
 Of course, we couldn't offer compensation exactly." 
 
 " I don't think any thing is to be done on our side. 
 If the lady lends a dress to her son or another boy, she 
 must look to the boy," said Mr. Warren. " I don't pro- 
 pose to do any thing about it." 
 
 " If it don't bring the School into any trouble," said 
 Mr. Parmenter, like one who felt that there were a good 
 many things to be thought of by men in responsible 
 positions. " People have a way of talking. You find 
 Brade, I suppose, a high-spirited fellow ? " he continued, 
 changing the subject a little, after having given his 
 hint. 
 
 " A very fine boy, and a very promising boy, every 
 way," answered the Rector of the School ; " with the 
 stuff in him to make a good Christian man, and a 
 satisfaction to his friends." 
 
 This thorough commendation, apparently gave much 
 satisfaction. Mr. Parmenter called to Mr. Stout, and 
 very courteously desired him to take his horse ("he 
 would be only a minute or two"). Then he formally, 
 and with precision, dismounted, and, coming upon the 
 piazza, seated himself on one of the settees, and busied 
 his hands with setting right some of the twisting of the 
 rattan, of which it waS made, while he talked. 
 
 " I believe," he said, " young Brade's birthday comes 
 to-morrow." Then, after a pause to give effect to his 
 minuteness of information, he said, " Am I right, sir ? 
 Perhaps it has occurred to you already, without any 
 suggestion. Of course " (with a bow, and interrupting
 
 PARMENTER DRAWN TO THE FLAME. Ill 
 
 himself) "I haven't any fear of your neglecting any 
 thing that concerns the intellectual part of the boys' 
 education. There were some things it was impossible 
 to make your prede " 
 
 Mr. Warren's face, it must be confessed, showed 
 less interest than annoyance. Mr. Parmeuter pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 "It's the custom, I believe, in foreign countries, 
 and a very graceful one, as it strikes me " (the word 
 "graceful" he made emphatic), "to have a good 
 deal of ceremony on birthdays. We can't make a 
 difference between one boy and another, but Brade is 
 a little homesick, and we might " 
 
 "Brade isn't homesick," said Mr. Warren. "There 
 isn't a happier fellow in the school." 
 
 " Perhaps our information differs," said Mr. Parmen- 
 ter, with sufficient gravity. "I commonly have inde- 
 pendent sources. I thought you might make a little 
 more of him. Perhaps a little special attention" 
 
 Mr. Warren had changed color, for some reason or 
 other, during this speech. He answered: 
 
 " Thank you : he won't be neglected." 
 
 Mr. Pannenter changed the subject again. 
 
 "I saw a very beautiful drawing, by one of your 
 family, I think, sir. Would it be too much trouble to 
 let me see it ? It was lying on the table in the front 
 room. That's it, I think," he added, having left his 
 seat and looked through the window. 
 
 Mr. Warren obligingly brought it, a crayon draw- 
 ing. 
 
 "By your sister, sir, I think I understood?" con- 
 tinued Mr. Parmenter. " There's a great deal of depth" 
 (emphatic) " in that. Is it after an old master ? "
 
 112 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 The drawing was of a western sky and sunset, as waa 
 indicated by the attitudes of such animated figures as 
 appeared in it. It was really so good that the splendors 
 flung upon the clouds, and showing through a row of 
 leafless larches and other trees, on a rising ground, 
 seemed scarcely to want the gorgeous hues of gold and 
 scarlet or crimson. 
 
 It even seemed to change, under the eye, to deepen- 
 ing or lightening of red, and burnishing or dimming of 
 yellow, as the colors change aloft while the sun is going 
 down, and promising a fine to-morrow. 
 
 " That impresses me very much, sir," said Mr. Par- 
 menter. " I wish you'd allow me to have it framed. 
 It's a jewel worthy of being set in an appropriate 
 case." 
 
 Mr. Warren excused himself, very absolutely, with 
 thanks. 
 
 Mr. Parmenter drew a parcel from his pocket. 
 
 " Perhaps you'd do me the favor, sir, to give that to 
 Brade, with my wishes for ' many happy returns ' ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said Mr. Warren, " unless you'd like to 
 give it yourself." 
 
 On this point Mr. Parmenter, a man of business and 
 experience, had notions of propriety, and said : 
 
 " I think it better to have every thing, as far as 
 possible, pass through the Rector's hands. You haven't 
 observed any communication between Mrs. Ryan and 
 you know, I suppose, they say she's a watch over 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Mr. Warren, impatiently. " There 
 would be no harm if there were." 
 
 " I don't feel so sure of that," said Mr. Parmenter, 
 deliberately, like one who felt his own responsibilities, if
 
 PAEMENTEE DEAWN TO THE FLAME. 113 
 
 not those of others also. " I'm not clear that it would 
 be safe to shut our eyes to any possible harm which 
 might befall one committed to our care. Have we ? I 
 think not." 
 
 With this expression of opinion Mr. Parmenter took 
 his leave ; mounted his horse in true style, grasping the 
 reins and a lock of the mane in his left hand ; setting 
 his foot deliberately in the stirrup, while Mr. Stout held 
 the head; springing and swinging himself over the 
 saddle. When he found himself handsomely in his 
 seat, he promised to do as much for Mr. Stout when 
 Mr. Stout should need his services in the same way, 
 and, putting his horse to an easy gallop, rode off.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A DISTINGUISHED FOREIGNER, WHO, PER- 
 HAPS, HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT. 
 
 THE main building of St. Bart's was large ; but the 
 chief merit in its appearance lay in the variety of its 
 outline, occasioned by the additions of different shapes 
 and sizes, according to the need of the time. 
 
 Its front doorway was good and substantial, a fair 
 oval of plate-glass showing, when the door was shut, a 
 large hall, with a handsome, winding staircase, on the 
 first landing of which stood one of those long clocks, 
 which hold so fast a place in the mind of one who knew 
 them in childhood. Over the doorway, and in front 
 of a lengthwise window, was a carving, which, to an 
 intelligent eye, was evidently heraldic : a " wreath," or 
 " torse," of red and white, bore an upright something, 
 which one, who knew the name of the School, and the 
 conventional symbol of its saint, might recognize as a 
 dagger or knife. The blade and handle of this were of 
 the same colors respectively, or, as they would be called 
 in heraldry, gules and argent. Beneath, in golden 
 church text, was the legend, " SURSUM," (upwards). 
 
 It was a harmless joke of successive Forms, as they 
 advanced in Latinity, to say that this motto was an 
 invitation to the Rector's study, in the second story. 
 
 The implement which, as described, decorated the
 
 A DISTINGUISHED FOREIGNER. 115 
 
 entrance to St. Bart's, had puzzled a good many visi- 
 tors. It was popularly called among the boys "St. 
 Bart's whittle ; " and new-comers to the School were 
 mystified, where they were capable of it, by hearing it 
 called his " whistle." The Rev. Mr. JVlerritt, one of the 
 Trustees, when fresh in office, had innocently taken it 
 for illustration one day as a church steeple, exhorting 
 the assembled boys to " remember the badge of their 
 school, that sky-pointing spire, and direct their 
 flight with unflagging wing still upwards;" and when 
 some one whispered an explanation, as he sat down, 
 astonished at the laughter which greeted what was 
 intended to be, and doubtless was, the point of his 
 speech, said that " the fault was the carver's, and not 
 his." 
 
 At this door, surveying this heraldic device, and 
 whatever else ornamented and distinguished the place 
 of entrance, was standing, on an afternoon in early 
 autumn, a foreign-looking gentleman, of large size and 
 distinguished air. He had tried the knocker with little 
 effect. Apparently those who ought to have heard and 
 come to this inanimate call were away, or were napping ; 
 and the only result of his experiment Avith the knocker 
 was the stopping of a little girl in the road, at a short 
 distance, who curiously watched his movements. He 
 proceeded next to ring the door-bell. While he was 
 still waiting, a small, slight, neatly-dressed man came 
 up (whose most noticeable feature, perhaps, was a set 
 of squarely trimmed whiskers and moustache), and said 
 politely : 
 
 "Perhaps I can help you, sir. I'm at home here. I'm 
 a trustee of the institution. Did you want to see the 
 Rector, sir? the Rev. Mister Warren?"
 
 116 ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 The foreign-looking gentleman turned at this address, 
 and, like a very courteous and distinguished foreigner, 
 saluted the Trustee, who had thus come to his help, and 
 thanking that gentleman for his kind offices, approv- 
 ing, perhaps, in his foreign heart, GrtflsGai SOIGI (stethessi 
 heoisi), as the boys of the Fifth Form might say, after 
 Dan Homer, this American habit of keeping Trustees 
 about the premises to wait upon strangers, inquired 
 whether the building was a hotel. 
 
 The Trustee, smiling as one whom a consciousness of 
 wit made good-humored, informed him that, " though 
 they had a good many boarders " (this, as conveying a 
 joke, and that in a language foreign to the hearer, he 
 pronounced quite distinctly), " this was not a hotel." 
 
 Answering this assurance with a simple interrogative 
 " So ? " and then asking pardon, the distinguished foreign 
 gentleman, declining to go in, accepted a seat outside, 
 and listened attentively to an account of the character 
 of the institution, of which his informant was a trustee. 
 Having heard this account through to the end (or at 
 least to a convenient place for the end), the foreigner, 
 drawing out his watch, said in outlandish but very in- 
 telligible English that " he wished the manufactories of 
 Weston to see. Might the gentleman only be so good 
 and tell him when he could next take the cars ? " 
 
 Having been informed by the Trustee that he had 
 " some two hours to wait," and having met this second 
 disappointment with the same interrogative monosylla- 
 ble as before, " So ? " he returned his watch (a rich-look- 
 ing and very foreign-looking watch) to his pocket, and 
 addressed the courteous and communicative Trustee : 
 
 " This is a school for boys ? " 
 
 The Trustee accepted this interrogative affirmation
 
 A DISTINGUISHED FOREIGNER. 117 
 
 with a readiness which implied satisfaction at having 
 made himself so well understood ; and the stranger 
 continued : 
 
 " If it pleases, how is called that little boy, with curly 
 head, who plays ? " 
 
 " That is Brade," answered the ready Trustee. 
 
 "'Bi'ead'?" asked the foreign gentleman, giving a 
 foreign turn to the name. " That is the best thing : the 
 first one of whom I ask is ' Bread ' ! " And he smiled, 
 repeating the name, " 'Bread ' ! that is good ; that is the 
 first wish. Might I with the young gentleman speak ? " 
 And to the Trustee's assurance that he might certainly 
 speak with any boy, if he wished it, he asked pleasantly, 
 "You think?" 
 
 " He is a foreign child, of very high family, it is sup- 
 posed, some think a Russian," said the Trustee, 
 emphasizing the word, as if this intelligence would 
 give the stranger an interest in the school or in the 
 scholar. 
 
 To this information the distinguished-looking gentle- 
 man listened attentively, but showed no surprise, and 
 answered only by the expressive monosyllable which he 
 had several times before employed to so good effect. 
 The Trustee hastened to call the boy ; and Brade, with 
 cheeks glowing and eyes bright from play, came for- 
 ward, turning to bid the " fellows " go on. 
 
 The stranger rose at his approach, went forward to 
 meet him, and at once engaged him in a conversation 
 of question and answer ; the Trustee having first dis- 
 charged what he evidently considered a duty, to be 
 gravely and seriously performed, by informing the boy 
 that " the gentleman wished to speak with him." This 
 duty done, the Trustee stood not far away from the
 
 118 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 interview, occupying himself, rather faintly, with several 
 boys, who, under the pretence of " tag," or some other 
 pretence, had contrived to bring themselves within 
 hearing. 
 
 " You have a good name," said the stranger. " You 
 are not of this country ? " 
 
 " My name is Brade, sir," answered Antony, looking 
 down a little and blushing, " and I came from Philadel- 
 phia." At the same time he showed the letters carved, 
 in the fashion of other boys, upon a hockey-stick which 
 he had in his hand. 
 
 " Ah ! so ! " said the stranger, looking to the Trustee, 
 who drew a little nearer, as if invited by the stranger's 
 look. The name the foreign gentleman, smiling, 
 spelled out carefully, letter by letter, " B-R-A-D-E, 
 Brade ; " and then, giving back the stick to its owner, 
 repeated, " B-r-a-d-e, Brade." 
 
 " You love to study very much ? " the foreign gentle- 
 man continued ; and having received the usual answer, 
 " Pretty well, sir," asked again, " You like not to play 
 at all?" and being answered that Antony "liked play 
 very much," he laughed and said, 
 
 " Your father liked to play when he was boy : this 
 gentleman, also, I think," looking with a pleasant smile 
 to the official of the institution for confirmation. 
 " Omnes,pueri, ludendi avidi fuimus : know you what 
 means that ? " 
 
 This sentence, Brade, with the gentleman's good- 
 natured help in repeating the words, and asking, 
 " What is subjectum of ' fuimus ' ? " translated pretty 
 well : " We all, as boys, have been eager for play." 
 
 This translation was accepted with a kindly smile, 
 and the gentleman asked : 
 
 " You learu Greekish ? Not ? "
 
 A DISTINGUISHED FOREIGNER. 119 
 
 Brade looked round, a little bashfully, to where the 
 other boys were, and then answered modestly that he 
 " had begun Greek." 
 
 At the mention of this new language the Trustee, 
 who had not been unintelligent or unmindful, at once 
 drew nearer. 
 
 " We teach Greek here, sir, of course," he said, " and 
 I'm aware that it is the language of the Russians, 
 that is, of the Russian Church." 
 
 " You are learned in Greek, self?" asked the cour- 
 teous foreigner. 
 
 The Trustee took care not to be drawn into a conver- 
 sation in that tongue, if the lively foreigner had any 
 intention of substituting it for honest English. 
 
 "You must excuse me, sir," said he. "I have two 
 daughters that know botany, and talk about their 
 * monogramic ' and ' cryptogramic ; ' but education was 
 not so much attended to in my day. I can do one 
 thing in Greek that not everybody can do, perhaps : 
 I know how to make Greek Fire? he added, smiling 
 with the consciousness of wit, and emphasizing the two 
 important words. 
 
 The foreign gentleman recognized the witticism, and 
 acknowledged it by a good-natured laugh. Some words 
 in a very foreign tongue he uttered, at which the Trus- 
 tee went through a shoulder-shrugging and grimacing 
 and gesticulating action, which no doubt seemed to him 
 most familiar and intelligible to a foreigner, and was 
 then asked, 
 
 " You were not soldier of the Greek-landish Free- 
 ings-wai-, the Liberation-war, perhaps ? Too young, 
 I think." 
 
 The Trustee modestly disclaimed the martial char-
 
 120 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 acter also, as well as the scholarly, " though he must 
 confess that he loved freedom, of course," he said. " He 
 had found out the Greek Fire when he was in the East 
 Bartlett Chemical Works." 
 
 The polite stranger seemed to get no definite infor- 
 mation from that hard proper name, although the 
 Trustee repeated it very distinctly. The latter polite 
 gentleman therefore changed the subject for one which 
 he, doubtless, thought more hopeful. 
 
 " I believe, sir, if I'm not mistaken," he said, " Greek 
 
 the Greek language is still the language of the 
 Church ? " Then, to make his meaning plainer, he 
 added, " I think the service-books the sacred books 
 
 are written in Greek ? " 
 
 The stranger caught his meaning (as he testified by a 
 courteous wave of both hands with a bow of the head), 
 and answered, 
 
 " ' The Sacred Books,' yes ; the evangelium, cer- 
 tainly." 
 
 " And of the Greek Church, I believe ? " interposed 
 the Trustee, with mild pertinacity. " The Russian is 
 the same, sir, if I am not mistaken," looking as if he 
 had " got " the stranger now. 
 
 The boys, who had contrived to come within hearing, 
 at the beginning of this conference with Brade, now 
 seeing what turn the conversation was likely to take, 
 began quietly to withdraw. The stranger-gentleman, 
 seeing this, hastened to take a formal leave of the little 
 fellow with whom he had been talking, asking, however, 
 very courteously, " permission " of the trustee. Hav- 
 ing obtained this, the polite stranger turned to 
 Brade : 
 
 " I will give you," said he, " according to your name :
 
 A DISTINGUISHED FOREIGNER. 121 
 
 you are called Brade ; I will give you some Greek by 
 your name." And, taking a heavy gold pencil from 
 his pocket, he wrote upon a plain card these words : 
 " BQadvg iadt eig OQyr t v n (JBradys isthi, eis orgen), and 
 gave it to the boy ; and, as he gave it, said mysteri- 
 ously, "There is a great secret for you to find out. 
 Some time you will find your name. I liked very 
 much to talk with you. Adieu ! " 
 
 So saying, with a very respectful gesture, he took 
 leave of little Antony, who made his acknowledgments 
 not uncourteously, though hastily, and who immedi- 
 ately, folding and putting away in a pocket the writing, 
 ran after his fellows. These, of course, seeing him 
 coming, loitered for him ; and then, having apparently 
 persuaded him to show them the paper, seemed to be 
 for a few moments puzzling their boys' brains over it, 
 as they walked with their heads all crowded together, 
 the most pushing of them being Will Hirsett ; and 
 presently after were all at play once more, as at first. 
 
 While the stranger had been engaged in writing, the 
 Trustee, seeing some one whom he addressed as " Mr. 
 Stout " pass, begged " to be excused for a moment while 
 the gentleman was engaged," and joined him, saying to 
 any who might hear, that "he would be back imme- 
 diately." 
 
 "A moment" is always longer than a speaker or 
 caller or shopper (or any one except a person waiting) 
 expects it to be. The strange gentleman, finding him- 
 self alone, walked quietly round the corner of the 
 house, in the direction which the Trustee had lately 
 taken, and looked. The broad barn-door stood invit- 
 ingly open, and sounds, such as men make, were coming 
 forth. He walked to it and entered. 
 6
 
 122 ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 Presently, from the opposite side, appeared the Trus- 
 tee. He looked hurriedly this way and that ; went 
 round the corner of the school-room, as he had just 
 come, and cast a hasty glance toward the boys' play- 
 ground. Then he looked toward the different roads ; 
 then went to the other corner, and looked toward the 
 barn, now sending forth no sound ; then came hastily 
 back to the front steps. 
 
 Here, having taken one last look all round, he 
 opened, and shut behind him, the front door, and 
 like one familiar with the ways of the place passed 
 up the stairs.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MR. DON FOLLOWS IT UP A LITTLE. 
 
 HANGING on the staircase was a very tolerable 
 painting, on a large scale, of the Acropolis at Athens, 
 and its ruins, by moonlight. Further up, on the same 
 wall, was a smaller painting of the Field of Marathon. 
 
 Upon each of these, whether intending it or without 
 any thought, the lively Trustee turned his eyes in pass- 
 ing. So, too, he looked in passing upon two engravings 
 of the Coliseum and the Tomb of Adrian, which were 
 hung upon the opposite wall of the upper entry. He 
 smelt of one of the flowers, and plucked a leaf from 
 one of the geraniums, which were standing in tiers in 
 a sunny bay-window at the front of the entry ; but he 
 scarcely made the slightest pause until, with a familiar 
 and assured tread, he reached a door, which he gently 
 and slowly opened to himself, passing into the room 
 beyond. Here he did stand still. 
 
 The character of this room which the Trustee had so 
 confidently entered would have declared itself to any 
 intelligent eye ; for books, on their shelves, made its 
 chief furniture and ornament. These were arranged, 
 not straight along its sides, and from floor to ceiling, 
 but in double cases, standing out as wings from the 
 walls and reaching about two-thirds up, having books 
 on the two sides and one end.
 
 124 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 Busts and statuettes stood atop of the several cases, 
 and behind and above these the room on the walls was 
 given to handsome photographs and engravings. A 
 long black cross occupied the middle of the chimney, 
 with a strong-lined engraving of Rubens's Descent 
 from the Cross on one side, and a like engraving of 
 Raphael's Transfiguration on the other. Underneath 
 the cross was an illuminated legend, " Fivov THCFTO^"* 
 
 Perhaps a single intelligent glance would have taken 
 in all this ; and there was a moment or two that the 
 Trustee lingered after coming inside the room, for the 
 gentleman who was busy at the study-table to.ok no 
 notice of his entrance. Presently, without looking up, 
 the student asked, " Who's there ? " 
 
 " It's I, sir," said the Trustee, with a gentle voice and 
 in unexceptionable grammar, such as became an official 
 of a great institution of learning, " Mr. Don. I didn't 
 wish to disturb you. How is Mrs. Warren, sir? She's 
 well, I hope ? and the children ? I wanted to inquire, 
 sir, if any one a foreign gentleman had been to 
 see you this afternoon." 
 
 Mr. Warren laid down, open, a book on which he 
 was engaged, and turned round to his visitor, deliber- 
 ately, a large-eyed, thoughtful face, of thirty four or 
 five years, needing a moment to bring his eyes to 
 bear. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Don, excuse me ! " he said, smiling at the 
 other's eagerness. "You came in so quietly that I 
 thought it must be one of the family. No ; no one has 
 been here." 
 
 " You were not far wrong, sir, I believe," said the 
 social Trustee. " I presume all who are connected with 
 
 * "Be faithful." Rev. ii. 10.
 
 MB. DON FOLLOWS IT UP A LITTLE. 125 
 
 Saint Bartholomew's School are, in one sense, of a 
 family : are they not, sir ? Have you a few moments 
 to spare (I'll lay my things down here, if you please," 
 proceeding to dispose of his hat and gloves, with much 
 kindness and courtesy, on the study-table, and seating 
 himself near them) " for something," he then added, 
 " which has an interest for us all, I think." 
 
 An announcement of this kind made a strong claim 
 for attention ; and Mr. "Warren assented, very readily 
 and definitely, and turned his open book, whose leaves 
 had been a little fluttered by Mr. Don's movements, 
 over upon its face, and sat all ready to hear. 
 
 " I was very happy, sir," continued Mr. Don, seri- 
 ously, as if he were beginning an autobiography (and 
 Mr. Warren listened with proportionate respect), " I 
 don't know what you may think of it, in being on the 
 spot as a representative of Saint Bartholomew's School, 
 when something happened which, I think, may prove 
 an entering-wedge, a turning-point, perhaps, sir, in 
 the history of young Brade." (At this name his hearer 
 looked still more curious for what was to follow.) 
 "Young Brade, you know, when he came to us was 
 reported as fatherless and motherless, if I am not mis- 
 taken? I believe the conclusion now is, that he's a 
 young ^nobleman from abroad, ah ! of course from, 
 abroad, if he's a young nobleman at all, for we don't 
 have them here." 
 
 By this time his listener had changed his attitude, 
 and his expression had become a mixed one of amuse- 
 ment and annoyance. As Mr. Don was about begin- 
 ning again after this correction of himself, Mr. Warren 
 said decidedly : 
 
 " Oh, no ; no, no ! he's a particularly fine little fellow,
 
 126 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 but I don't think there's any such mystery about Bratle. 
 I know some nonsense has been talked about him, in 
 Eastham, fun of Mr. Greenwood's, probably, and 
 the boys have got up wonderful fancies ; " but, after 
 this rather unsympathizing dash of cold upon Mr. 
 Don's account of his marvellous incident, he stopped. 
 
 Mr. Don himself was for a moment quite taken 
 aback; indeed, it might well be asked, Now, even if 
 Mr. Warren's mind, being sedentary and studious, was 
 not so active as those of others in inquiry, why should 
 he feel inclined to set himself against so natural and 
 reasonable an opinion ? Mr. Don's face was clouded. 
 
 "Pardon me, sir:" he said, when he began to recover 
 himself, and with a look of honest astonishment at the 
 backwardness of the Head of the School in information 
 about a boy under his charge which the community 
 about him were well advanced in. " I thought it was 
 taken for granted that there was a mystery about the 
 boy, although we possessed a clue to it, or to a part 
 of it." 
 
 " Oh ! " said the Rector of the School, pleasantly, " I 
 won't go so far as to say that there is nothing which 
 might be called a sort of mystery in the case. I'm 
 only saying that I'm sure there isn't a particle of that 
 particular mystery about him." 
 
 " In your opinion, sir, if I may be allowed to sug- 
 gest," said the Trustee, very gravely, proposing a cor- 
 rection ; " but I must be pardoned if I can't quite agree 
 with you, sir. I'm surprised that there should be so 
 great a difference." Then he added very patiently, 
 " Perhaps you will allow me to give an account of the 
 adventure in which I was a party myself, and which is 
 certainly not a little remarkable. It may affect your
 
 MR. DON FOLLOWS IT UP A LITTLE. 127 
 
 own opinion, sir. I hold in my hand an important 
 testimony to the character of the stranger," and he pro- 
 duced what seemed a letter, or the envelope of a letter. 
 
 " Of course," said the Rector of the School, cheerfully, 
 " I shall be glad to hear about the adventure, by all 
 means ; " and (having for whatever reason committed 
 himself already to the other side) he looked both amused 
 and curious. 
 
 " We may differ, sir, as to the bearing of the inci- 
 dent," said Mr. Don, who was at no loss for well-chosen 
 words ; " but I think we shall hardly differ as to its 
 interest and importance. As I came up toward the 
 School, about half an hour ago, I observed quite a 
 foreign-looking gentleman a man of distinction, I 
 think I may say, sir standing at the front door, look- 
 ing at our emblem. I offered my services, and told 
 him the character of our institution. At the time, a 
 number of boys were playing on the upper ground : he 
 singled out Brade, and asked if he might speak with 
 him ; said a great deal to him about his name, and said 
 there was a mystery about it, which Brade would find 
 out some day; said that Brade was like his father in 
 being fond of play. Oh ! I almost forgot, sir : he said 
 it was his first wish to see Brade, and he gave the boy 
 a Greek sentence, as he said, ' for his name.' The Greek 
 was very striking, sir. If all I supposed was Greek 
 was Greek, he talked it as I talk English. The re- 
 markable thing about that is, that Greek, if I'm not 
 misinformed (perhaps you can instruct me better, sir), 
 is the language of the Greek Church, I should say, 
 of the Russian Church. That seems to me an impor- 
 tant item, sir." 
 
 During the telling of this story, Mr. Warren's look
 
 128 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 of amused curiosity had undergone some change, and 
 he now looked a little puzzled besides. 
 
 "If it had been so, why should he say so much, and 
 yet say no more ? And did this remarkable foreigner 
 say all this before you ? " he asked. 
 
 "Not exactly before me, sir, I was at some dis- 
 tance." 
 
 "He was at the house-door?" asked Mr. Warren, 
 again. 
 
 "But he wouldn't come in, sir. I asked him, of 
 course, and he made a pretence of inquiring whether 
 this was a hotel." 
 
 " People do that, now and then : we're a big building, 
 and look something like it, outside ; and we were a 
 famous hotel, you know, once." 
 
 " But you see, sir," said the Trustee, who looked 
 deeper into things, " he would very naturally do that, 
 if he was desirous of concealment." 
 
 Mr. Warren smiled ; but it may have been that the 
 Trustee was too much taken up with what he was tell- 
 ing, to see the smile. 
 
 "And where's the wonderful paper that he gave 
 Brade for his name ? " asked the Rector of St. Bart's 
 School. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the Trustee, with alacrity, " I took the 
 precaution ; but I would first take the liberty of sug- 
 gesting, sir, might it not be well, in vie<v of the peculiar 
 character of the case, to send Mr. Stout after him ? A 
 little attention, perhaps, might not be altogether thrown 
 away. Beside the immediate result to Brade, I see the 
 possibility of an important connection for our school 
 in the future." (Mr. Don was a business man.) 
 
 " But, if he declined to come in, I don't think we
 
 ME. DON FOLLOWS IT UP A LITTLE. 129 
 
 can well force him in, can we? He's gone away?" 
 said Mr. Warren. " If he had wished to come in, I 
 should have been glad to see him." 
 
 " Yes, sir : he's gone away ; but it'll be an hour or 
 two before he can take the cars for Weston," said Mr. 
 Don, taking out and consulting his watch. 
 
 " He's going to Weston, then, is he ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir : ' to see the manufactories,' he said ; though 
 I suppose it would be easy to explain that consistently 
 with the theory : he comes here first and sees Brade, 
 and then says 'he has made a mistake, and is on his 
 way to see the Weston factories.' I should say that 
 might be easily reconciled : doesn't it strike you so, 
 sir ? It seems to me nothing is simpler," said the Trus- 
 tee, with much animation over a living secret involving 
 foreigners (perhaps, too, foreigners of the most exalted 
 rank) which was now passing toward its discovery, in 
 open air, through the channel of his own intelligence. 
 " Perhaps, if it wouldn't be too much trouble for you, 
 sir, to make a chance for a few words with him, you 
 woiild easily " 
 
 " No," said the Rector, with singular indifference to 
 the opportunity, "I think I won't do any thing about 
 him. You've got the paper that you were going to 
 show me ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Mr. Don, with less animation, " I 
 took the precaution (you think nothing is to be done, 
 sir) to go round the house and head Brade. It was 
 then he disappeared. I made this copy, however, 
 hastily," and here he presented an envelope. " If 
 it will give you too much trouble, sir," he added, in a 
 tone of disappointment, " Mr. Parmentcr, I know, has 
 Greek dictionaries." 
 
 6* i
 
 130 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " Oh ! I'll give what help I can ; but why not the 
 paper itself, instead of a copy ? " 
 
 "Why not, indeed, sir? You remind me; I didn't 
 think of that. I'll get it, and return it to the boy ; " 
 and Mr. Don disappeared, after snatching up his hat 
 and gloves, and bowing to the Rector of the School, who 
 was sitting at the moment thinking, and smiling at his 
 thought. 
 
 Mr. Warren, now, as his visitor was departing, re- 
 called himself, and turned to his work again.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MS. DON HAS HOLD OF A CLUE. 
 
 LOOKING neither at the Tomb of Adrian, nor at 
 the Coliseum, nor at the Field of Marathon, nor at 
 the Acropolis of Athens, on his way, Mr. Don, full 
 of his business, went straight about his errand. The 
 boys had moved ; but he sought them, out, secured 
 Brade, and then, followed at a little distance by the rest, 
 came back. It was a coincidence that, while with a 
 single purpose he was walking toward the play-ground, 
 the mysterious stranger came quietly along from the 
 barn, and with Mr. Stout, acting apparently as guide, 
 went toward the eastern road. 
 
 Mr. Don ascertained from the boy, as they walked, 
 that he had no recollection of ever having seen the 
 stranger before that day ; and he also made sure, by 
 judicious questions, that Antony had had no sympa- 
 thetic or instinctive drawings toward the supposed 
 agent. While Mr. Don, and Antony in his company, 
 were thus making their way through the front door, 
 and up the main staircase, the rest of the boys 
 Brade's playmates went as straight to the back door 
 and up by their own way, to the neighborhood of the 
 Rector's study. From that room a sharp ear might 
 have caught the confused sound of feet and murmur of 
 young tongues after the door had opened and let in 
 Antony Brade, together with the returning Trustee.
 
 132 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 The mysterious boy (looking not at all mysterious) 
 was affectionately saluted by the Head of the School, 
 and was invited to a seat, but managed nevertheless to 
 keep his feet ; and then, with his cap in his hand, looked 
 from side to side at the throng of books. 
 
 " They followed me, sir. I thought you'd allow them 
 to come as far as the entry outside," said Mr. Don, as 
 if in explanation of the sounds which had attended 
 him. (" This is the paper, sir, that I spoke of. I 
 brought Master Brade with me.) The others may pos- 
 sibly afford additional information." 
 
 Mr. Warren was looking at the card which had been 
 put into his hand. 
 
 " Shall I find a lexicon, sir ? (I think that's what we 
 used to call them when I went to Master Bradish, at 
 the Hollow, in our town "). And the intelligent gentle- 
 man, who with his eye-glasses was already scrutinizing, 
 at random and afar, the backs of books in different 
 directions, on the shelves, was eager to search. 
 
 At the word " lexicon," Antony first allowed his eyes 
 to wander about the crowded bookcases, and then 
 turned them timidly at the lofty embodiment of scholar- 
 ship who presided over St. Bart's School, and to whom 
 was referred now a question of interpretation in which 
 the boy was himself concerned. Very possibly, if he 
 knew of Pericles and Plato (and he at least knew of 
 Xenophon), there may have been a question in his 
 mind whether Greek was about as easy to the Rector 
 as it had been to the men of old days. If so, he was 
 probably comforted when he heard the Head of St. 
 Bart's thank Mr. Don, and decline the help proposed ; 
 and he showed all interest when that learned man 
 began to read from the paper :
 
 MB. DON HAS HOLD OF A CLUE. 133 
 
 " ' B Q a, 8 v$ icdi sis OQyrjv? That seems plain 
 enough, and a good motto too, 'Be slow to wrath.* 
 The first four letters are emphasized " 
 
 " Oh ! that's it," said the Trustee. " I saw they were 
 written wide " (which showed that the worthy man had 
 good eyes). Then he added, with the scrupulous polite- 
 ness which seemed habitual with him, " May I inquire 
 what they are, sir, if you please ? " 
 
 " They spell ' Brad,' " said the reader, who perhaps 
 had some curiosity to know what all this inquiry of Mr. 
 Don's was going to lead to. 
 
 " Would you be kind enough, sir, to read the orig- 
 inal the Greek once more ? " said the inquiring 
 Trustee, sliding forward on his chair, to bring both 
 ears nearer to the reader. 
 
 Antony listened in very good humor, if not so 
 eagerly. 
 
 The interpreter of the cabalistic sentence complied 
 at once, very obligingly, and read aloud the words, 
 emphasizing distinctly the syllable which, as he said, 
 was written as emphatic. " That first syllable ' Brad,' " 
 said he, " must be, as the mysterious gentleman said, . 
 4 for our young friend's name.' " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Antony, to this about his name ; and 
 then, when he found that he had spoken impulsively, 
 without having been addressed, he blushed and looked 
 abashed, like a modest young fellow, well brought up. 
 
 The Rector of the School smiled upon him, and 
 said, 
 
 " It's near enough, you see, Anty, for a play upon 
 words. The truth is, a foreigner couldn't get our 
 English a in your name very easily, and couldn't 
 put it into Greek ; but I think he must have been a
 
 134 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 pretty learned Theban. Did he talk a great deal of 
 Greek?" 
 
 " I said I thought I could make Greek Fire," said 
 Mr. Don, " and then he went off with what I supposed 
 was Greek." 
 
 " A happy thought of yours, certainly," said Mr. War- 
 ren, laughing. 
 
 Antony modestly inquired whether the Thebans 
 were very learned ; Mr. Don listening, as to some- 
 thing which might or might not bear upon the main 
 question. 
 
 " No," said the Head of the School, going very readily 
 into the subject with the boy, " the Thebans wero 
 Bo3otians. Pindar was a Theban, to be sure ; but they 
 were contrasted with the Athenians, though no part of 
 their country was more than fifty miles, perhaps, from 
 Attica. ' Boiotum crasso jurares ae're natum,' Horace 
 says, as you'll find some day when you get to him. 
 They were stupid." 
 
 By this time the Trustee was only politely waiting 
 for a pause. 
 
 " Pardon me, sir," he said, as soon as he civilly might. 
 " That first word or syllable, whichever it may be, I 
 think you said was ' Brad,' without the e, if I under- 
 stand rightly. Would you be so good as to read the 
 next two syllables, or words, as the case may be ? " 
 
 Mr. Warren at once complied, and read with patient 
 distinctness : 
 
 "'tV/V (us, is). 
 
 " Ah ! " said the Trustee, whose ears must have been 
 as good as his eyes, " there was another sound. What 
 is the next syllable, if you please?" 
 
 Mr. Warren again complied obligingly, and read the 
 syllable < ft,' (thi).
 
 MB. DON HAS HOLD OF A CLUE. 135 
 
 " Thank you, sir ; that's the sound that I missed. 
 The two would make 'isthy.' Now, sir, pardon me for 
 troubling you with another question (I think we may 
 come to something). Are the syllables which, if I 
 heard you rightly, you pronounced 'isthy,' emphatic, 
 as you said ' Brad ' was ? " 
 
 Being assured that the two syllables were not em- 
 phatic, he continued, with animation enough to draw 
 Antony's attention, and very likely to excite some 
 curiosity in the Rector of St. Bart's School : 
 
 " Then, sii', one more question : Could that be made 
 ' inski ' or ' iski ' ? " Then he added, as if repeating to 
 himself, " Bradinski, Bradiski." 
 
 " No : I wish it might, if it would do you any good ; 
 but Greek is as definite as any thing ever was. '"Jadi ' is 
 io0i " (isthi is isthi). 
 
 " Perhaps, sir," said the unwearied investigator, " you 
 would do me the favor to write 'iski' and 'inski' in 
 Greek ? " and he supported his request by holding out 
 his paper and pencil. 
 
 Mr. Warren wrote as he was desired, saying, while 
 he wrote, 
 
 " Now shall I dispose of your boys, oxitside there, 
 and Master Brade, here ? I suppose they would like 
 to be off" 
 
 " Oh ! certainly, sir ; certainly," said the Trustee. 
 " I thought you might wish to question them." 
 
 " Call them in, please, Anty," said the Rector ; and in 
 a moment three or four boys were ushered in, among 
 whom was Ilemsen, and among whom, too, was Will 
 Hirsett, conspicuous by the grinning of his broad 
 mouth. 
 
 "Boys ! " said the Rector, " we hear that there was a
 
 136 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 wonderful learned gentleman here this afternoon. Mr. 
 Don says he talked Greek ; and I want to see if we can 
 make out what it was he said." 
 
 Will Hirsett hitched himself up a little, as if prepar- 
 ing for his part of witness. The other boys looked a 
 little blank. 
 
 " Mr. Don told him something about * Greek Fire,' 
 and then the gentleman said some Greek." 
 
 " We can't remember Greek, sir," said Remsen. " If 
 it had been English, we might." 
 
 " If you was to say it over, sir," said Will Hirsett, 
 less afraid of trying to fill a few gaps in authentic his- 
 tory than Remsen appeared to be. 
 
 The Rector laughed. "I must guess, you know," 
 he said. " Was it ' TO TtiJQ TO sktymxov ' ? * or * ^ cphol* 
 yQaixjj ' ? " f 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Will Hirsett, with gratifying prompt- 
 ness. 
 
 "Which, Will?" asked his Master, while the boys 
 laughed. 
 
 " I think that was it, sir, what you said," answered 
 the well-inclined witness. Even Mr. Don seemed 
 amused. 
 
 " 'H <p^.o yQaixr t ? " | asked his examiner. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Will. " I think that was it." 
 
 " Or TO TIVQ TO stt.tp>ix6v ? " * 
 
 " It's one or the other, sir," answered Will Hirsett, 
 with unvarying satisfaction at being able to confer a 
 favor of this sort upon the head of the school. 
 
 " Thank you, William," said the Rector, sending a 
 glow of added pleasure over the boy's beaming face. 
 
 * Hellenic Fire. t Greek flame.
 
 MB. DON HAS HOLD OF A CLUE. 137 
 
 "Your testimony is worth fully as much as a good deal 
 that people give, about a thing they don't know." 
 
 This commendation completed William's gratifica- 
 tion ; and he handled his hat as if expecting that they 
 would all be dismissed now, because nothing could well 
 be added to what he had done. 
 
 So it was. 
 
 "Now you may go and play. Don't forget that 
 Greek, Will." And, promising not to forget, Hirsett 
 modestly led the way from the Rector's study. 
 
 Mr. Warren took his book once more. 
 
 " How do you get on with ' inski ' and ' iski ' ? " he 
 asked of the thoughtful Trustee. 
 
 " If you say, sir, that ' isthi ' couldn't be a hint for 
 * inski ' or ' iski ' (certainly the sound might suggest 
 ). I won't take up your time," said Mr. Don, regret- 
 fully or almost reproachfully, as if, somehow, the Rector 
 of the School was a little obstructive to science ; and so 
 he took his leave.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE MAKING OF A LANGUAGE. 
 
 THERE are very pretty walks, in different directions, 
 near St. Bart's School. One of the most beautiful of 
 these, up hill and down, and with many windings 
 among barberry-bushes and other shrubs and low trees, 
 was, in spite of its beauty, very little used ; for it was 
 only a short lane off West Road, not leading through 
 to any road, and was in one place beyond the houses 
 wet, where it met a marsh. Just beyond that marsh 
 it came to an end, near a disused brick-kiln. 
 
 It is not always bright weather, even in the whole- 
 some country ; and those rains had apparently now set 
 in which are said to "fill the streams before winter." 
 It was on a day which gave little encouragement to 
 walking (for it had rained a good deal) that there were 
 Bitting on a smooth rock, under very thick evergreen 
 branches, at the side of this lane, a girl and a boy. 
 The grass which bordered the roadway was, by this 
 time of the year, scanty and weak, and the leaves of 
 most trees were much thinned out; but everywhere, 
 unless under the covert where the children sat, was 
 moist. 
 
 The boy we have seen so often before that we know 
 him at once as Antony Brade : the girl, who was 
 dressed in plain black, was pale, with an interesting
 
 THE MAKING OF A LANGUAGE. 139 
 
 and thoughtful face, but brightened now, as by the 
 boy's company. She was rather older and taller than 
 her companion, possibly wiser also, for, at least just 
 now, she talked less and listened more. Now and then 
 she leaned forward, sometimes leaving her seat and 
 walking a step or two into the road, and looked each 
 way. Then she took her old position and listened, 
 smiling, and as if ready for her turn to speak. Young 
 Brade was beating the damp ground with a stick, his 
 hat lying meanwhile beside him on the rock, and all 
 the time he was speaking in rather a low voice, but 
 earnestly, and, as it would seem, upon the same subject 
 which had occasioned so much speculation and discus- 
 sion among people, young and old, of his acquaintance, 
 his origin or condition. 
 
 Oh ! I can do it ! " he said. " But it'll be pretty 
 hard, sometimes; but you'll see. Some things I don't 
 like, if I could only have your house for home : it's 
 just as if I'd got no home and no family." 
 
 The girl very cheerfully answered, tossing her head 
 with each merry exclamation of contempt : 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! pooh ! pooh ! pooh ! poo-ooh ! Master 
 Antony, never mind ! it'll come right, by and by, please 
 God ; " (and she seated herself on her seat, adjusting her 
 dress). " It won't be long, first, and then you can be 
 as happy as you please, Master Antony Brade." 
 
 This she said with a tone of good cheer, that conies 
 by. natural gift to womanhood, young or old. The 
 boy's spirits seemed more like the sky and the weather : 
 still, as we have already seen, it was not another's 
 strong spirit or cheery voice that was needed to give 
 him strength. He turned to her, with a pretence of 
 frowning, and raised his stick, threateningly :
 
 140 ANTONY SRADE. 
 
 " Don't call me that ! don't call me Master Antony ! " 
 he said drolly. " When we are all by ourselves, I am 
 sure you might call me ' Anty ' or ' Tony.' " 
 
 " No, no ! " she said, shaking her head and smiling 
 as she did so, and with a very lively and determined 
 tone, indeed, " No ! " 
 
 Then she added, with a very ceremonious voice and 
 manner, " When would I do it at all, Master Antony, 
 if not when we are all by ourselves ? Come ! we mustn't 
 lose our time. Isn't it good we've got our bower ? " 
 (spreading her arms, but rather narrowly, as if to avoid 
 shaking down the wet, and looking about upon their 
 quarters), " and we are able to meet, so that tiny 
 way we'll not forget each other." This, too, she said 
 mirthfully, emphasizing rather excessively the last 
 words. Here she turned her face round in front of his, 
 putting up her chin pertly, and receiving in return 
 a little slap upon the cheek. So their narrow retreat 
 was pretty merry and comfortable. 
 
 " Well, we'll begin our language right off," said 
 Antony, in his enthusiasm throwing up the stick with 
 which he was beating the earth so high that he struck 
 one^of the heavy, low-hanging, evergreen boughs, and 
 brought a whole shower of raindrops down upon them 
 both. At this both burst into happy laughter, and he 
 shook his curly, head, and she wiped her dress with a 
 handkerchief. 
 
 " Suppose," said he, as older philosophers have 
 made their suppositions, sometimes stretching very far 
 out into moving causes and into the strengths and 
 fastnesses of nature, and sometimes, too, bringing 
 great discoveries to men, " suppose we should shake 
 all the wet down, and then there wouldn't be any more 
 to come."
 
 THE MAKING OF A LANGUAGE. 141 
 
 Here was a philosophical principle involved which 
 the girl seemed to regard with little respect. " Why, 
 you foolish boy ! " she said, laughing heartily again, 
 " wouldn't you get all wet yourself, shaking it down ? 
 and wet all our bower, and our seats? What a boy 
 you are ! " 
 
 His foolish supposition coming back to him in this 
 shape of absurdity, he could not help laughing again ; 
 so, under those trees, damp as things were all about, 
 was as cheery a place as under many a well-shingled 
 or well-slated shelter from the weather. The girl ran 
 quickly forward to make her usual reconnaissance, and 
 back again, and, having seated herself as before, 
 smoothed out her lap, and said with great spirit : 
 
 " Now let's begin ! Who's got any paper?" and she 
 felt, long and thoroughly, in the only pocket she had, 
 without bringing out any thing more to the purpose 
 than a crumpled bit, on which were what looked like 
 sums in Arithmetic. This, they both said, would not 
 do ; and Antony kept on going through his pockets, 
 which he had already gone through more than once ; 
 but his search resulted in his finding nothing more than 
 a few small rolls and foldings and crumples of paper, 
 all of which, he said, were precious, as having parts of 
 a WORK in Greek and Latin on them, and a single 
 brown scrap, in which were wrapped up three or four 
 small stones, a few black seeds or berries, and a tangle 
 of twine. He restored the first, carefully and ceremo- 
 niously, to his waistcoat, and folded and squeezed up the 
 latter again, and put it back into his coat, and then 
 they both agreed that perhaps they could find a place 
 on the rejected sum-paper, and ended by saying that 
 "there was plenty of room, and it would do splendidly."
 
 142 ANTONY BBADE. 
 
 Now they spread it all out, and, after hastily looking 
 it all over, set themselves to their work ; and with what 
 spirit they went about it! One corner of Brade's 
 pocket furnished a pencil, caught in inextricable 
 meshes of pack-thread, and released after Alexander 
 the Great's fashion. 
 
 Nothing (unless looks) was ever so touching, so mov- 
 ing, so overcoming, so full of life and kinship as words ; 
 and how hard it is for the fire of life to die out of them ! 
 Language any worthy and noble language that we 
 know is so great and wonderful that men of long 
 thought and study are arguing, in books, whether 
 speech is a gift straight from God, or was felt out and 
 followed on by men's own wit and need. But who has 
 not, with some school-crony, knowing or not knowing 
 what Cadmus did for Greece, boldly made up a lan- 
 guage and sported it sometimes in the hearing of 
 grown-up men ; and initiated, with some show of form, 
 a playmate or two into its secrets ; dropped some of its 
 words upon the pages of a letter sent home, and left 
 them unexplained, his heart beating pretty high, and 
 his eye glistening at thought of what conjectures would 
 be there indulged, about the very deep things that 
 school boys get into ! Let our readers who are curious 
 in philepy, or speech-liking, look closely to the doings 
 of these two intelligent children of different sexes. 
 Here they will be likely to get as reasonable and fair 
 an account of the way in which languages originate, as 
 from the twins of Psammitiohus, who fit'xos t<fuvr t aav 
 (made the sound of the goat) or made their first utter- 
 ance in Scythian, or those of the Scottish king who 
 pushed straight out into the world of speech with well- 
 formed Hebrew.
 
 TEE MAKING OF A LANGUAGE. 143 
 
 Antony Brade and the young girl, his companion, were 
 now set down to the making of a language. A diffi- 
 culty presents itself before they begin. 
 
 "There are as many words in the English language," 
 said Antony, " as one hundred thousand ! we couldn't 
 make as many as that ; " and he laughed. 
 
 " Why, we don't want as many as that, to say all 
 we've got to say," said the girl ; and she belonged to 
 the sex who make the most use of that and other lan- 
 guages, and might be expected to know. " We could 
 say every thing with only a few." 
 
 " How many should we have to have, Kate ? " asked 
 Brade, "two hundred ? We couldn't get along with 
 two hundred, could we, if people use a hundred thou- 
 sand ? " 
 
 " Let's begin," said Kate ; " only you must remember 
 and call me ' Miss Ryan.' " 
 
 " Pooh ! " said Brade, at the last part of the sentence. 
 She looked thoughtfully at her paper. 
 
 There they sat, and did not begin. The first start 
 was made by Brade : 
 
 " Let's call mud ' modo? " he proposed, working the 
 end of his stick in the earth, " and we must change 
 all the letters of the alphabet : how shall we do 
 that?" 
 
 " We shan't have to do that," said Kate. " Different 
 languages have the same letters, and yet that doesn't 
 maka the languages the same. If you changed all the 
 words as much as i modo,' you wouldn't have to change 
 the letters." 
 
 " Oh, well," said Antony, brightening up as the task 
 was narrowed down, " if you only want words, I know 
 a way Russell made when he was in the Second Form j
 
 144 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 but then he let everybody into it at last, so that a 
 great many people could read it. We've got to have 
 one that nobody can read but just us two." 
 
 " But we needn't do just the same that he did. How 
 did his way go, Master Antony ? " she asked, emphasizing 
 the name, but looking up and smiling. 
 
 He was thinking ; but, as soon as he understood what 
 she had just been saying, he raised his stick, which he 
 had still held, though no longer playing with it, and 
 threatened her, drawing a frown upon his face over the 
 smile which kept place at his roguish young mouth. 
 Then he came back to business. 
 
 " Oh ! let me see," said he, conning the composition 
 which was to be the ground on which they were to 
 work out their language. 
 
 " I must look out," said the watchful girl ; and made 
 her walk to the road, and turned her eyes up and down 
 it quickly, and then came quickly back. 
 
 He had been studying the written words. 
 
 " Russell's way was to leave a letter out," said Brade. 
 " But I don't believe he meant it to be hard ; and, if a 
 word was a long word, he'd leave out two. But any- 
 body could find that out. Suppose we should leave 
 out half a word ? " 
 
 " Well, don't let's begin to write, until we've chosen 
 what we'll have ; because we haven't got much paper," 
 said Kate. " Take a word." 
 
 Antony looked up into the air, as if words and 
 ideas floated there, and before long had got a word. 
 
 "'Therefore' 's a good word. Suppose I want to write 
 to you, ' therefore I can't come.' I'd write ' fore,' but 
 then," continued he, hesitating, " you can't take half 
 of 'I'"
 
 THE MAKING OF A LANGUAGE. 
 
 " Make it small," said Kate, " make it little ' i,' with 
 a dot : ' fore (little) i, not me.' There ! they couldn't 
 make that out." 
 
 " Now, suppose I want to say, ' I've got another ball,' 
 or 'I've caught a muskrat,' little 'i'-'e' (how far 
 have we got ? ) ' I've-got-a-muskrat,' I, no, little 
 i-e, how are you going to divide ' got ' ? leave the 
 t on ? No : I'll tell you. He had another way. It 
 was : Take a letter from one place and put it in another 
 place ; take a hind-letter and put it in front. Pie left 
 his book down for anybody to find out ; but nobody 
 but me ever found out, and I never told anybody. It's 
 a real good way. Let's try that." 
 
 Now that things looked more definite, the paper 
 came forth and was put to use. Antony had a pen- 
 cil, and Kate Ryan wrote for both. Brade proposed 
 the making of a regular letter, which was to run in this 
 way: 
 
 " ' Dear Kate, I got your letter, and was very glad 
 when I got it. I got it last evening. I am glad to 
 hear that all are well. I went a trapping, and I '" 
 
 " Not so fast ! " said Kate, whose fingers went pretty 
 well, considering the dampness. " There ! now you've 
 got enough for a beginning. There ! you can take 
 that" (tearing off what was already written). "Let's 
 keep 'THE LANGUAGE' all on a separate piece. 
 You read." 
 
 To this arrangement the boy assented with great 
 readiness. 
 
 " You must only say ' Kate,' not ' dear Kate.' " 
 (" Well ! " said he, as if he did not care to argue that 
 point any more). " ' Ekat] " she continued, writ- 
 ing. 
 
 7 j
 
 146 ANTONY BBADE. 
 
 " Let's always put 'JT on to another word," suggested 
 Antony, following his paper. 
 
 " Well," she continued, " ' Ekati-tgo- ' " (following his 
 dictation, which he said was like Caesar's, only he 
 wanted a few more scribes) " ' ryou rlette dan 
 swa yver dgla nwhe itgo ti? " 
 
 They did not get along quite so fast as we have gone, 
 for they made and corrected a mistake or two ; but this 
 was the result which they came to, at the end of the 
 first sentence ; and there they stopped a little while, 
 to compare notes and exult. They were satisfied with 
 the look of it. They longed to put the acquired lan- 
 guage to use in their correspondence ; and, after the 
 first flush of excitement over their success, went on to 
 translate the whole of Antony's composition into their 
 own private language. The preliminary ' Ekati ' they 
 changed, on Kate's urgency ; and at last the whole work 
 stood complete before their eyes in this shape : 
 
 " Smis nryai tgo ryou rlette dan swa yver dgla niche 
 itgo ti. imdgla ot rhea ttha lal ear Iwel. itwen gatrappin 
 dnai tcaugh eon tmuskrai. Iwil eb ta rbowe sa lusua. 
 JB. A." 
 
 And then one thing struck one of the authors, Kate 
 Ryan : " Where a letter is doubled in a word, like 
 two ^>'s in ' trapping,' why can't we leave out one ? and 
 so in ' letter ' ? I'm afraid somebody will guess ' trap- 
 ping ' and ' letter.' " 
 
 In the making of so important a thing as a language, 
 the girl seemed to think the world interested, and 
 likely to be curious. Young Brade accepted at once 
 the proposition, and the dangerous '' and ' p" 1 were 
 taken out, leaving the words to which they belonged 
 much less suspicious-looking and much less liable
 
 THE MAKING OF A LANGUAGE. 147 
 
 to detection, now that the letters had been taken 
 away. 
 
 " Now," said Antony, " we must both have copies 
 exactly alike, so that we can remember, and we can put 
 a particular mark at those two words, so as to show 
 that the letters were left out on purpose. Now can't 
 we do any thing else to it ? " 
 
 The makers examined the effect of several proposed 
 improvements ; but, because these did not make either 
 The Language any better or the secrecy any greater, 
 they were all abandoned ; and it was resolved that, for 
 the present, the language should be tried as it was. 
 Brade, with many bows and much ceremony, and with 
 some laughter, practised the " Smis Nrya " with which 
 the letter opened, at first joining to these words others 
 in the ordinary vernacular, but at length turning all 
 into the Secret Language which had just come into 
 being, as " Smis Nrya, who od uyo odf n 
 
 Now they did not believe that anybody in the whole 
 world could make it out ; and Brade would not fear to 
 leave a piece lying on the ground so that anybody could 
 see it. 
 
 " Wouldn't it be good," he asked, " if one of those 
 great men that read inscriptions, or the Postmaster- 
 General, should try a piece of it ? " 
 
 These words apparently reminded Kate of her Avatch- 
 fulness, for she hurried to the road, looking longer than 
 she had yet looked toward the highway. 
 
 " There's something stopping away over on the hill," 
 she said, hurrying back. "Now we must be quick. 
 Have you made a new one? If we could rub out one 
 t and one p from this, it would do just as well as writing
 
 148 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 it over. Quick ! quick ! quick ! " and she spread out 
 the papei*. 
 
 With all the hurry, Antony took occasion to show a 
 little learning, acquired, as we may suppose, not long 
 before in the class-room, and still fresh to him, that 
 " the Ancients used to write with one end and rub out 
 with the other, vertere sty " 
 
 Kate unceremoniously broke in, bursting into a laugh 
 (children in good spirits are so ready to laugh) : 
 
 " Never mind the Ancients ! " 
 
 The Third-Form boy took good-naturedly this slight 
 upon his Latin, and, turning his pencil, began to rub 
 out the objectionable letters with its india-rubber ; and, 
 while he was busy with that work, Kate, finding the 
 freest and cleanest part of her paper, made a copy for 
 Antony, keeping for her own the first. 
 
 Then going into the road, and looking each way, as 
 before, she called hastily to him : " There ! go you right 
 in back there, into the ' cuddle ' " (this very likely was 
 their private name for some inner retreat or fastness), 
 and as she spoke she pushed him inwards from the 
 road. "Mr. Parmenter's coming!" 
 
 " I don't mean to hide ! " said the boy, positively. 
 
 " You must ! " she answered, with equal positiveness ; 
 " but I can't stay ! " and immediately set out in 
 the direction of the main road, and of what had given 
 her the alarm, walking steadily and quietly, without 
 once looking back or turning her head. 
 
 She bowed quietly on meeting a vehicle in which 
 were Mr. Parmenter and another person, to whom, as 
 they drove slowly, Mr. Parmenter was pointing out 
 with his whip, to the prospect on the grounds at the
 
 THE MAKING OF A LANGUAGE. 149 
 
 side. It was not likely that they would observe the 
 young girl in black, who brushed the moist bushes in 
 turning out for them. After passing them, in like man- 
 ner she kept her way without turning, as wisely as any 
 woman who wished not to show curiosity nor to attract 
 attention.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MB. PARMENTEE STUMBLES UPON A SPECIMEN. 
 
 THE carriage which Kate Ryan had just met went 
 on at a walk, but was soon opposite the place where, 
 in his nook of damp shelter, our young friend, the asso- 
 ciate language-maker, had been left. 
 
 Mr. Parmenter's eyes, as he drove, were still fixed 
 upon the fields, at the opposite side. 
 
 "We must turn before long," he said, " for there's a 
 bad place in the road, just beyond here, that our town- 
 authorities will have to look to ; but I've shown you 
 the whole ground." 
 
 His companion, whose tall neck showed a white cra- 
 vat, implying that he was a clergyman, was perhaps less 
 occupied with field and road than he, and at this mo- 
 ment exclaimed, 
 
 " Well ! there's a young chap has found a snug place 
 for himself! " and Antony Brade appeared, sitting on 
 his rock as before, though not now with his head 
 bare, and beating the moist earth with his stick. 
 
 The boy looked a little conscious and confused, per- 
 haps, but possibly not more than any boy of his age 
 might appear, when found in a strange situation like 
 this by two gentlemen, and having had their attention 
 directed to him. 
 
 " Good afternoon, Brade," said Mr. Parmenter, in a
 
 A SPECIMEN FOUND. 151 
 
 gracious tone, and lifting his hat from his head, cere- 
 moniously, in return for the salutation of the boy. 
 " I'm glad to hear you're such a good scholar, Bnule. 
 Don't you feel afraid of taking cold in there ? I should 
 think Mrs. Wales might have to prescribe for you, if 
 you sit in such places." 
 
 Then turning to the clergyman he said : " Brade is 
 the first scholar in his Form, I understand, Mr. Mer- 
 ritt." 
 
 " So this is Brade," said the other, looking well at 
 him. " I'm glad to see you, sir, and hope you'll live to 
 be the first scholar in the School." To Mr. Parmenter, 
 he added, smiling, " Boys have boys' constitutions." 
 
 The boy, after the way of boys, made no answer 
 to the compliments and complimentary wishes, but by 
 this time had found an answer to some one of the several 
 suggestions about dampness and danger, and was 
 saying, "It's very dry after we've sat here a little 
 while." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Mr. Parmenter, graciously, " this is a 
 place of resort for boys, is it? Rather a dangerous 
 practice," he added, turning to his companion. " I 
 think I shall have to speak to Rector Warren about it. 
 Well, Brade, I shall be glad to see you at my house. 
 Are you interested in works of art and taste ? You 
 know, Brade, where my house Mr. Parmenter's 
 house is ? I suppose all the boys of Saint Bartholo- 
 mew's School know my house ? Would you like to 
 come?" 
 
 To this invitatory address, which was palpably at 
 the same time dignified and elegant and hospitable, 
 the boy answered very much as modest boys gen- 
 erally do.
 
 152 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " Then I shall expect you, Brade : I shall request 
 Rector Warren to give you leave," said Mr. Farmenter, 
 even more graciously, and saluting him punctiliously. 
 He then backed his horse and turned his buggy, neatly, 
 on the narrow road. 
 
 " Did you observe any thing particular about that boy, 
 sir ? " he asked, in his formal way, of his companion. 
 " You know he's the mysterious boy." 
 
 "Not very different from other boys in the same 
 condition, I should say," answered the clergyman. "So 
 that's the mysterious Brade?" and then he added, with 
 a touch of that humor which is peculiar to a certain 
 class of minds, " ' Braid broad braids, brave maids.' " 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Parmenter, accepting the quotation, 
 with a courteous smile, " I suppose there may or may 
 not be something under it? It might be quite an 
 important thing for our School ? You observed I men- 
 tioned ' works of art.' I don't go so far as some of our 
 neighbors, in concluding right off that he used to live 
 
 O ' O O 
 
 in a palace ; but it might remind him of former asso- 
 ciations and surroundings " (Mr. Parmenter showed a 
 good choice of words). " I don't know whether you 
 observed any effect ? Plow do his manners strike you, 
 sir ? " 
 
 " I don't know how a nobleman ought to look " (" I 
 don't," said Mr. Parmenter, without interrupting). 
 "Doesn't somebody say he's a nobleman?" continued 
 Mr. Merritt. " I should easily say he might be foreign." 
 
 " There's a strong feeling in Eastham, you know ; and 
 Mrs. Wadham and Mr. Don have got a theory, I be- 
 lieve," said Mr. Parmenter with an impartial dignity, 
 like one who was ready to accept either side, according 
 to the weight of evidence. " They think he's a Russian,
 
 A SPECIMEN FOUND. 153 
 
 and Brade stands for Bradinski or Bradisloff (I don't 
 know Russian " ). (" Who does ? " asked Mr. Merritt.) 
 Mr. Parmenter smiled and went on : " or some other 
 he mentioned, a very distinguished family. Dr. 
 Farwell's got a Scotch theory " (" I know he has," said 
 Mr. Merritt), "a great family of Breadalbanes," con- 
 tinued Mr. Parmenter, dividing the stress of voice 
 between the first and last syllables. 
 
 " Breadal'bane," said Mr. Merritt, showing superior 
 knowledge by accenting the second syllable. 
 
 " If he should be a Russian," continued Mr. Parmen- 
 ter, going on to weigh that side, " it might be an im- 
 portant thing for St. Bartholomew's School to be a 
 connecting link between our Christian education and 
 
 O 
 
 the highest classes in that country (they all belong, I 
 think, to ' the Greek Church,' or to ' the Holy Eastern 
 Catholic Church,' you know about those things better 
 than I do), and it might be a step toward intercom- 
 munion." 
 
 " Rather a short one, I fear," said the clergyman, 
 again opening his vein of humor. 
 
 " I should think so," said Mr. Parmenter, smiling as 
 before, impartially, as if this were just as much his 
 opinion as the other. 
 
 "Don't you think it might be worth while to follow 
 it up a little, in a quiet way? Haven't we a right, in 
 justice to a pupil under our charge, and in justice 
 to ourselves, to ascertain the facts about a boy that 
 we're educating, if we can do it without exciting sus- 
 picion ? " 
 
 Mr. Merritt smiled, as if catching his friend's 
 thought. 
 
 " I suppose," said he, " we may gratify our cariosity, 
 7*
 
 154 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 if we can do it without exposing ourselves : is that 
 it?" 
 
 "Mrs. Wadham puts it ' on strong moral grounds,' " 
 said Mr Parmenter, by way of answer. He smiled as 
 he spoke, but added : 
 
 " I confess it admits of a question. Jsn't it a moral 
 duty to know all we can about one of our pupils ? in 
 case of wrong, for example, or danger. There may be 
 something kept from him. Can't we, if we choose, put 
 it upon the ground of moral obligation ? that is, if 
 we think best. I should say it depended entirely upon 
 that." 
 
 This last he said as if not committed to any 
 course, but as being capable of seeing his way pretty 
 clearly. 
 
 " Well, I don't know," said Mr. Merritt ; " we might 
 kick up a good deal of a mess. Somebody said (I be- 
 lieve it was Dr. Farwell) that Mr. Bates, the agent, or 
 guardian, or whatever you may choose to call him, said 
 Mr. Warren knew all about the boy." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter was hardly prepared for that sup- 
 position : 
 
 " I think that can't be so," he said, coloring. " I 
 presume that Mr. Warren would recognize my claim to 
 be informed." 
 
 Here was a slight pause, and then he said, 
 
 "The Rector is pretty clear-headed and sharp- 
 sighted, I suppose, about learned questions, the 
 question whether Hector (wasn't it Hector?) killed 
 Andromache; but bring him down to daily life, and 
 it doesn't follow that he'd use his eyes as well as those 
 of us that have to keep our wits about us all the time. 
 He doesn't think there's any thing foreign or remarkable
 
 A SPECIMEN FOUND. 155 
 
 about Brade (I should judge from what he told me). 
 What should you say ? " 
 
 " I should think there might be something a little 
 foreign in his accent, possibly Irish," said Mr. Mer- 
 ritt. " But I should be pi-epared to believe one thing 
 as well as another." 
 
 " That's it," Mr. Parmenter said. " The ladies sug- 
 gest that naturally, under the circumstances, being 
 incog, he would be left a good deal to servants. I 
 believe, however, Irish gentlemen have that and 
 Scotch, too as well as the common people. In this 
 country," he continued, drawing an appropriate reflec- 
 tion from his fact, " we should think it strange if any 
 educated man was to have a peculiar accent. I believe 
 I'm right, ain't I ? " 
 
 Mr. Merritt assented, and then, sticking like a parson, 
 as he was, to his text, said, 
 
 "I think you told me once that you had never 
 known of any foreign communication with him ? " 
 
 " No : I ascertained that without raising any sus- 
 picion or any curiosity. I got our post-master, old 
 Mr. Bancroft, to keep account of all the foreign letters 
 that went through our office, so as to show the impor- 
 tance of the Eastham post-office. That took the old 
 gentleman, and he kept account for two months. You 
 see I looked out for that." 
 
 " What visitors has he had ? " Mr. Merritt asked, at 
 the end of the sentence. 
 
 " He hasn't had any, till the other day. I never told 
 you about the stranger ? " 
 
 Taking his answer from his friend's face, Mr. Par- 
 menter went on : " Quite a distinguished-looking man. 
 I tried to get him to ride up with me from the cars ;
 
 156 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 but he preferred walking. I went up afterwards to 
 the School, and Mr. Don told me he had singled out 
 Brade from quite a number of boys, and talked with 
 him ; asked what his name Avas, and when he said 
 'Brade,' he laughed, and asked him if he knew who his 
 father was ; and then ' if he knew any thing.' Brade 
 said, 'Not much,' and then the man said, 'Good,' and 
 ' he was just the boy he wanted to talk to.' I found, 
 from the little conversation I had with him, that he 
 was a foreigner ; but I could not hear any thing about 
 him, afterwards. Nobody, except just at the school, 
 had seen him, or heard of him." 
 
 " That ought to be one of Robert Dale Owen's sto- 
 ries," said Mr. Merritt. " I don't see but what we're 
 coming on in the world, at St. Bart's." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter had still his comments to make, and 
 he made them, as follows : 
 
 " What he said to Brade might mean a great deal, or 
 nothing, just as you choose to take it. 'Does Brade 
 know Avho his father is ? ' ' Does he know any thing 
 about the mystery ? ' ' It's good he doesn't know much.' 
 ' He's just the boy that was wanted.'" 
 
 " Well, but you don't suppose so much of a plot as 
 all that ? " said the other. 
 
 " I suppose," said Mr. Parmenter, confidently and 
 sagaciously, smiling, " that a plot's a plot, ain't it ? a 
 spade's a spade. If there's a plot at all, why not a 
 whole plot? It's just as cheap, Avhile you're about it." 
 
 The sky had not ceased to threaten, and now looked 
 more threatening than ever; and the clergyman, like 
 a sensible man, held out his hand to the weather. 
 
 " Here it comes ! " said Mr. Merritt ; and, while he 
 gpoke, the two drew over and fastened the leathern top,
 
 A SPECIMEN FOUND. 157 
 
 and sheltered themselves, besides, with the boot. The 
 rain came quietly and steadily down, in the surest way 
 to soak the earth and all things on it. At the same 
 time the horse took the road handsomely, laying him- 
 self down to his work, and the lumps of wet sand and 
 gravel began to fly from his hoofs and from the wheels. 
 
 Mr. Parmenter had pretty well explained Mr. Don's 
 views and his own upon the subject, when Mr. Merritt 
 gave another turn to his thoughts. 
 
 " Our young friend '11 stand a pretty good chance of 
 getting soaked, if he camps out there much longer. 
 His high family won't keep the rain out. All the 
 Braids- m-skies and out-of-skies won't help him." 
 
 " Suppose we turn back and take him in?" said Mr. 
 Parmenter, reining up ; and, Mr. Merritt assenting, he 
 turned with some little manoauvring in the narrow 
 roadway, and went back as fast as they had been 
 coming. 
 
 " This was the place, surely," he said, stopping his 
 horse at a particular spot, and looking out. " There's 
 where we turned round before. Surely, that's where 
 the boy was." 
 
 He drove on slowly, turned round in the former 
 tracks, and came slowly back to the same spot. 
 
 This time, however, no opening in the shrubbery by 
 the roadside appeared. They laughed. 
 
 "This is one of the old stories of enchantment that 
 we used to read, invisible gates and so on. You see 
 what he's done, don't you? fastened those two boughs 
 together," said Mr. Merritt. 
 
 " That's very well done, Brade," said Mr. Parmenter, 
 in a very considerate tone ; " but I wouldn't stay out 
 here any longer, now it's raining. We've come to offer 
 you a ride."
 
 158 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 There was no stir or sign of animation behind the 
 green door ; nor to their repeated calling was there any 
 answer, any more than if the boy had not understood 
 English. 
 
 One part of the gentlemen's performance consisted 
 of a repeated blowing by Mr. Merritt through his thumbs 
 into his hands, so as to make a loud whistle. This he 
 repeated many times, because, as he said, " he knew from 
 his own experience that every boy understood that." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter was, it would seem, a man of resolu- 
 tion. " I should like to see," he said, aside, " what has 
 become of him ;" and, giving the reins ceremoniously 
 to his companion, he jumped out and set himself to 
 opening the way into the hiding-place. At the expense 
 of a pretty thorough wetting from the drops shaken 
 down and brushed through, he made an entrance, only 
 to find the bare rock, and the place empty. 
 
 " That's the Russian way, I suppose," said Mr. Mer- 
 ritt, " though I should have called it rather ' French 
 leave.' But you're dripping, my dear sir," as from 
 his secure retreat he saw his friend come back. 
 " Where's he gone, do you suppose ? " he asked, his 
 curiosity again overcoming, for the moment, his sym- 
 pathy and good manners. 
 
 " That I can't tell you, sir,-" said Mr. Parmenter, with 
 several slight coughs. 
 
 "What's that paper?" Mr. Merritt asked. "Per- 
 haps that's his father's patent of nobility." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter picked up the paper, a damp and 
 not over-clean bit, and, glancing at it, said: "It's 
 something I can't make out, a strange language." 
 
 " A find ! Suppose you bring it home," said his 
 friend ; " perhaps we can make some hand at it." And
 
 A SPECIMEN FOUND. 159 
 
 Mr. farmenter, having folded and put it into his pocket, 
 look his place, wet and chilling ; drew up the boot, and 
 soon had his horse going foster than before. 
 
 Through that side-road, so pretty in bright weather, 
 they splashed, and into the main road. Here was 
 Borne moving life. 
 
 " That's a remarkably nice-looking girl ahead there," 
 said Mr. Merritt : " we met her before. What new 
 lamily have you got here ? She'll get a precious soak- 
 ing, though, won't she ? " 
 
 " Yes, but there's Mr. Manson offering to hold his 
 umbrella over her! " said Mr. Parmenter. " He doesn't 
 care for weather either." 
 
 " But what's he got in his arms ? " asked Mr. Mer- 
 ritt, " a sheep ? " 
 
 Mr. Manson (whom our readers may remember, the 
 Rector and editor) had certainly something large on his 
 arm, under his cloak. 
 
 " I see his feet hanging down," said Mr. Parmenter : 
 " it's little Billy Carnes, the cripple. I saw him in Mrs. 
 Rainor's window, as we came by." 
 
 " We'll say it's a lamb, then. If it wasn't so rainy, I 
 should like to try Manson with your ' strange language,' " 
 said Mr. Merritt. 
 
 " Yes ! " Mr. Parmenter answered, keeping up his 
 horse's pace. " That girl belongs to a very respectable 
 family, lately moved in. Some people say the mother 
 is most likely the person that had the charge of Brtide, 
 or else is appointed to look after him. I haven't made 
 out yet, to my own satisfaction, whether there's any 
 thing in it. There's no intercourse between Brade and 
 them, that anybody knows of; but they're very well 
 off."
 
 160 ANTONY KRADE. 
 
 " In a country place," said Mr. Mcrritt, " the neigh- 
 bors would soon know it, if there was any intercourse, 
 to say nothing of scores of boys with two eyes and 
 ears apiece." 
 
 " I should know it as soon as any one," said Mr. Par- 
 menter, in a tone that implied a large reserve of power 
 and means within him : " my position is such, you 
 know, that not much is said or done that doesn't find 
 its way to me. It's important that it should be so." 
 
 The rain came steadily down, in a way to check con- 
 versation ; and the rate at which they were driving 
 brought their faces and hats and clothes against it, and 
 made it necessary to meet it manfully, or shelter them- 
 selves from it, as best they might. So, splashing 
 through shallow puddles, and flinging the mud from 
 wheels and hoofs, with now and then a snort from the 
 horse and a cough from his driver, they made their 
 way home.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ME. DON AND ANOTHER JOIN FOECES. 
 
 THE reader will not expect that Mr. Don, who does 
 not live in Eastham, should give up all his time to St. 
 Bart's, or to his friends in our town. He is a snug 
 man of business at home, and quietly thriving in the 
 world ; and this he would not be, if he did not look 
 after his own business, which is that of calico-printing, 
 on a good scale. It is because his business is in a safe 
 way, and that he conscientiously follows up his duties 
 in all other directions, that we find him so often tread- 
 ing the soil of Eastham, and making himself seen and 
 felt at the School. 
 
 More than one thing here now took up his time. 
 
 We have seen that Miss Minette Wadham was nob 
 disinclined to let her mother go forward and work out 
 her plan, if only she could be kept within certain 
 bounds of propriety. We have seen the plan formed 
 in their house to give harmless pleasure and to develop 
 a most interesting and attractive mystery. It is while 
 things are just in this state that our small but intelli- 
 gent and courteous friend made his way in ; and, in 
 answer to the salutations of the ladies, said that " his 
 wife assured him that he was looking very well ; that 
 he was not quite clear that she was right ; but sup- 
 posed that it was a proper compliment to her to think 
 
 BO."
 
 162 ANTONY BEADS. 
 
 Having thus smilingly introduced himself as put 
 forward and sustained by his wife, and having next 
 complimented the ladies on looking well, and remarked 
 the beauty of their flowers, and the comfort of a wood- 
 fire, he diverged a little. " You find your residence in 
 Eastham still agreeable, I suppose, Mrs. Wadham ? " 
 he asked. "Our boys the boys of Saint Bartholo- 
 mew's School don't disturb you ? " 
 
 This he said like one who, though he felt responsible 
 for the conduct of the boys, yet was pretty well assured 
 that there was little misconduct to account for. The 
 lady answered : 
 
 " I've got two boys there myself, you know, Mr. 
 Don ; and my boys were always brought up to respect 
 their mother, to ,respect their father and their 
 mother my boys were brought up ; and, if boys 
 respect their mothers, they can't be very bad." 
 
 This little sentence was uttered with so much de- 
 cision as to make it clear that she considered Mr. Don's 
 question met and answered. Mr. Don accepted it, 
 apparently, in that understanding. 
 
 " True, ma'am," he said, " the parental principle 
 the principle of parental respect in my opinion 
 underlies (I think that's the phrase now), it's at the 
 root of every thing. You commonly observe " 
 
 Mrs. Wadham plunged into speech : 
 
 " As for the parental principle, I say, teach 'em to 
 know their mothers. I know it's said, ' it's a wise chilci 
 that knows his father ; ' but I say let 'em know theii 
 mothers, and then you keep 'em in connection with all 
 that's pure and holy." 
 
 " It may be as you say, ma'am," answered Mr. 
 Don. Then gathering up again the thread of dis-
 
 MB. DON AND ANOTHER JOIN FORCES. 163 
 
 course, which had been brushed out of his hand, he 
 followed it : 
 
 " I've seen young men left orphans who have been 
 brought up without that restraining influence. J have 
 one in particular in my mind now " 
 
 " Yes : speaking of that, what do you think of the 
 mystery of St. Bartholomew's I call it ; there was a 
 ' Massacre of St. Bartholomew's ' once, you know." 
 
 Mr. Don moved in his seat, and looked intelligently 
 at her ; for, as our readers will believe, here was a 
 subject that he was ready for. He answered cor- 
 dially : 
 
 " I think we're in a way to get nearer to it." 
 
 The answer was so ready that Mrs. Wadham seemed 
 to doubt whether he could have understood her. 
 
 "About this young chap at the School, I mean, 
 nobleman's son, or whatever he is." 
 
 " That's the subject I had in my mind, ma'am," said 
 Mr. Don. 
 
 " It's the subject a good many people have got in 
 their minds, I guess," said the lady. 
 
 " But, excuse me, ma'am," said Mr. Don. " You 
 spoke of a ' Massacre.' Am I to understand that you 
 connect something of that sort with the history of the 
 young person we referred to ? " 
 
 " That I can't say," answered Mrs. Wadham, with 
 much meaning and authority in her look and voice. 
 " Mystery is what it is, now. I ask" (with a sort of 
 official tone) " what you think of it ? " 
 
 " Oh !" said Mr. Don, seriously, " I'm convinced there's 
 something in it, ma'am. I think it altogether likely 
 he's a nobleman's son, my own opinion is, a Russian 
 nobleman."
 
 164 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 Mrs. Wadham looked as if she carried in her pocket 
 a pass-key to the House of Things TJnrevealed. "I 
 suppose it can be known," she said, and sealed the sen- 
 tence with a single nod, as significant, if not as conclu- 
 sive, as that of Jove. 
 
 Mr. Don was not the man to shut the mouth of an 
 oracular cave, or to put brakes upon the wheels of ad- 
 vancing discovery, nor was he the man to precipitate 
 things. " You think it could be discovered, ma'am, 
 do you?" he asked. " I remember a remark our Rec- 
 tor, Dr. Nattom, once made, that ' if we could encourage 
 the hidden thing to come out of its shell, without 
 rudely breaking it ourselves, we were following the 
 order of nature.' " 
 
 "The 'order of nature' is all good," she answered; 
 " but I take it we're meant to be lords of nature. I 
 should say this secret will be discovered ! " and, having 
 nodded decisively, she looked steadily in his face. 
 " There's Eldridge ! " she said, suddenly, showing that 
 she could attend to two men at once. Then, throwing 
 up the window, she called out, " Eldridge ! I want you 
 to put Tommy directly into the light carriage, to drive 
 me." 
 
 It is to be supposed that if Eldridge had received his 
 proportion of that domestic wisdom which, as we have 
 heard, had been applied to the sons of Wadham, he 
 would go straight to the execution of an order, or a 
 suggestion of Mrs. Wadham, with a readiness beyond 
 that of submission to authority, with a feeling as if he 
 were furthering the operation of one of the Elements 
 of Nature. This time he answered, not strongly, " I 
 haven't been to dinner yet, Miss Wadham." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " she said ; " but I want the horse and
 
 MR. DON AND ANOTHER JOIN FORCES. 165 
 
 light carriage, right away. I sha'n't be gone long," 
 she added, considerately, for his comfort. 
 
 "Now," she said, "I'm goin' to St. Bartholomew's 
 School : I've got an end in view, I've got a pur- 
 pose, and a motive." 
 
 Mrs. Wadham's way of speaking a sentence like this 
 was sententious : whether to choose the right words, or 
 to give them a chance to take their full effect upon her 
 hearers. 
 
 Mr. Don was a very good listener, courteous and 
 grave, but not demonstrative. To what had just been 
 said, he answered, " Oh, yes, ma'am ! " 
 
 Mrs. Wadham looked at him as if she were not sure 
 whether he had altogether understood her. 
 
 " I say," said she, emphatically, " I've got a purpose 
 and a motive ! " 
 
 This phrase had evidently been chosen with deliber- 
 ation. 
 
 " Perhaps you'd like to go with me ? " she asked, 
 and was assured that "he would certainly go, with 
 pleasure, if it wouldn't put her to any inconvenience." 
 
 " No inconvenience about it ! " she answered. " I 
 ain't a living skeleton, and I always have plenty of room 
 in my carriages. Now, Netta, you might go and set 
 and talk with Mrs. Warren, while I'm about business. 
 That'll be treating her with proper respect. Yes." 
 
 To many persons, if they had heard the whole of 
 Mrs. Wadham's plans, this proposition would seem like 
 that among thieves, by which the one is to draw off a 
 partner or a clerk, while the other robs the till. To 
 people like the author of it, it seems to provide for all 
 the demands of propriety and kindness, while it answers 
 the first object, which is to enable the contriver of it to 
 accomplish his own purpose.
 
 166 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " So we'll put on our things and get ready, if you'll 
 
 go." 
 
 The daughter had more delicacy of perception, if 
 not more kindliness of feeling than the mother, and 
 she objected, while she nipped dead leaves from the 
 plants : 
 
 " But, mother, I don't see why you can't see Mrs. 
 Warren and ask leave to visit the dormitory. I don't 
 think there would be any difficulty " 
 
 " That would just spoil my plan : I can do that after- 
 wards," said the mother. " That is all very proper, no 
 doubt, in general : I make no objection ; but there are 
 other considerations that outweigh propriety, this time. 
 Well, Mr. Don, I'll go and get ready." 
 
 " And I'll beg off from going," said Miss Minette. 
 "You'll have Mr. Don." 
 
 " Perhaps I can take your daughter's place with Mrs. 
 Warren," said that mild gentleman. " I can't fill it, of 
 course, I wouldn't undertake to fill it ; but just to 
 make a call upon Mi-s. Warren, and I could join you 
 immediately, in the alcoves." 
 
 Mrs. Wadham was going, large and heavy, to make 
 herself ready, and answered, turning to Mr. Don, as 
 she went, " Yes." 
 
 " I can understand your feeling, if you'll allow me 
 to say so," said the gentleman to Miss Minette, who 
 was still engaged in trimming her plants. " I should 
 have some scruple myself, if I thought that any liberty 
 was going to be taken ; but, of course, that isn't the 
 intention." 
 
 " Mrs. Warren may make no objection, and may not 
 feel hurt," said Miss Minette (" No ! " interposed Mr. 
 Don) ; " but I don't like to ransack her house, without 
 leave "
 
 MR. DON AND ANOTHER JOIN FORCES. 167 
 
 " The house is, in one sense, Mrs. Warren's," he said ; 
 " but a school isn't altogether like a private house. It 
 must be open to inspection to a certain extent, at any 
 time. I can easily conceive that a lady at the head 
 of it might prefer that some examinations should take 
 place, informally, as it were." 
 
 Mr. Don spoke philosophically, and as one of the 
 Trustees of a school ; perhaps, too, as a man whose 
 curiosity saw a prospect of gratification, if Mrs. Wad- 
 ham could only have plenty of room and time. Miss 
 Minette had more delicacy : 
 
 " If mother was going on an official visit, if she 
 was a visitor, or on a committee, why, even then " 
 but as the sentence would have had little eifect, prob- 
 ably, if it had been finished, so it never reached any 
 end, for it was cut across by Mrs. Wadham's entrance, 
 and she filled a good deal of space, wherever she was. 
 
 " Couldn't you send a bouquet to Mrs. Warren ? " 
 she asked, as she came in. "You'll have enough to 
 make a show, after you've cut off a good many." 
 
 " Of course," said the daughter, " we've got plenty of 
 flowers ; but I should prefer sending them another 
 time, or taking them in my hand." 
 
 " Here! Here ! " said the mother, "let me take 'em." 
 And with very summary fingers she snipped and clipped, 
 and crowded the flowers into one of her hands without 
 any care for arrangement, and then putting the bunch 
 into Mr. Don's charge, and receiving his very courteous 
 acknowledgment, she said, 
 
 " There ! those shall be your share to take care of: 
 I like always to have my hands free to take the reins, 
 if any thing should happen." 
 
 During this time Eldridge had brought the carriage
 
 168 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 to the side of the house, where, from the top of a nat- 
 ural rock which was as level and smooth as if made for 
 the purpose, Mrs. Wadham and her guest stepped 
 down through the doorway of the vehicle, and after 
 she had given her daughter a parting direction to 
 " keep Mr. Greenwood, if he should come, for she might 
 have some use for him, and tell him, ' Not a word ! ' " 
 they were driven off. " Mr. Greenwood's been away," 
 she explained, " and I want to have my party." 
 
 No prettier road has its flowers gathered in summer 
 by children's fingers, and its stones piled by them into 
 walls and causeways, and bridges and houses, and few 
 smoother country roads have their dust raised by flash- 
 ing wheels, than that over which they went. In the first 
 place, there was a hill, and there were windings ; and 
 then the vai'ied grouping and size and shape of trees 
 gave change and beauty, even now, when their chief 
 grace and glory was no longer hanging upon them, and 
 made a shelter from the chilly winds ; while, through the 
 openings, the lake was seen, and the town, afar. 
 
 At St. Bart's, the cunningly devised programme was 
 carried out, with one chief exception. Before leaving 
 the carriage, Mr. Don had mildly expressed his purpose 
 of going with Mrs. Wadham first, and reserving his 
 visit to the Rector's family until afterwards. The 
 flowers were left lying on the seat. 
 
 " Just as you please," said Mrs. Wadham, who would 
 gain by the change a witness to her own cleverness, and 
 an adviser, and, moreover, a sharer in the question- 
 able proceeding in which she was engaged. " Now I 
 lead, and you follow. Eldridge, you'll walk the horse 
 along the road, up there, and mind and be here in 
 twenty minutes, from fifteen to twenty minutes."
 
 MR. DON AND ANOTHER JOIN FORCES. 169 
 
 So saying, she led the way rapidly, and with her face 
 set gravely and resolutely forward, not to the front 
 door, but round to that storm-house with which the 
 reader is sufficiently acquainted. Mr. Don followed, 
 without trying exactly to overtake her. As she got 
 her hand upon the latch of the door, it was suddenly 
 pushed open with a force that, coming unexpectedly, 
 and striking her not well planted on the ground, nearly 
 threw her over backwards. Mr. Don supported her by 
 one arm, and she successfully withstood the shock. 
 
 "A mite more," she said, gasping, "and my boys 
 would have been motherless, and I shouldn't have been 
 here to tell the tale ! " She made the tragic character 
 of the unhappened incident complete, by adding: "And 
 it would have been their own school-house door that 
 did it ! " 
 
 The three boys who had made the unintentional 
 assault stopped very politely to apologize, and Mrs. 
 Wadham received the atonement graciously : 
 
 " Only," she said, " I wouldn't come out of a door as 
 if I was fired out, for you may hit somebody." 
 
 Mr. Don, for his part, addressed two of the boys as ac- 
 quaintances, " Brade " and " Remsen ; " and Mrs. Wad- 
 ham promptly tui'ned to one of them, whom the reader 
 knows as Nicholas Remsen, and expressed great inter- 
 est in him, as being in her son Edmund's Form. " Oh, 
 yes ! I know it's Albert is in your Form," she said, cor- 
 recting herself, as the boy corrected her^ and then, 
 with great dignity, took leave of him, and said, 
 
 " Now, Mr. Don ! " and the door having been 
 opened more deliberately than the last time passed 
 through, into the house. 
 
 " You know Remsen, then ? " Mr. Don asked.
 
 170 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 "Remsen? No! I know-Brade, I spoke to him 
 just now. I've looked at him, many's the time, in 
 church. Now, this is our way ! " and she went straight 
 on upstairs, remarking, as she mounted stair after stair, 
 that " if people could go up a slope, as they used to have 
 it, up to the cupalo, in the State House " (Mrs. Wad- 
 ham very seldom miscalls a word, but that crowning 
 glory of the capitol is one that she names like most 
 people), " it would be ever so much more comfortable." 
 
 "How d'y'do, Therese?" she said affably to a nice 
 person, with a bunch of keys at her girdle and a pile 
 of white clothing on her arm. " I'm come to look at 
 your rooms, you see, to see if you've got 'em all right. 
 Mr. Don, you know," she added, partly withdrawing, 
 so as to let a portion of the Trustee be seen. " I sha'n't 
 need any help, Therese. I know my way. Who's 
 next to my Edmund, now ? Remsen ? or Brade ? " 
 
 Being informed that Thompson Walters was on one 
 side, and Blake on the other, she said adroitly, 
 
 " Brade's the one they call ' my lord.' I suppose his 
 room is very splendid. This is it, I believe ? " and she 
 drew aside a curtain. 
 
 This time she had hit rightly, as "Therese," who 
 kept close at hand, assured her, and disclosed a pretty 
 little place, not, at the moment, absolutely neat, for 
 some shavings, with a piece or two of paper, lay upon 
 the floor, and a roughish bit of wood, with a knife 
 sticking in ^it, lay on the little table. 
 
 A good engraving, from one of Raphael's well-known 
 paintings of the Mother and the Child, hung over the 
 bed, and there were several pretty photographs upon 
 the walls. 
 
 Mrs. Wadham seemed to see every thing at a glance, 
 and she dropped the curtain.
 
 ME. DON AND ANOTHER JOIN FORCES. 171 
 
 " Very pooty ! " she said, " plain, but very pooty. 
 Nothing very foreign-looking but the watch. Oh ! per- 
 haps you didn't see that watch?" and she drew the 
 curtain again. 
 
 Mr. Don had entered into more general subjects of 
 conversation with " Therese," whom he called " Mrs. 
 Latham." He had started that of heating, and was on 
 his way, doubtless, to that of ventilation and the rest, 
 when this appeal was made to him. We may suppose 
 that, whatever he was talking about, his eyes and ears 
 were ready for discovery. The watch he set out for with 
 all the alacrity that was in him. 
 
 " Indeed, ma'am," he said, as he surveyed it with his 
 glasses, " it's a very curious specimen ! " for under their 
 eyes lay a large as compared with watches of our 
 day, we might say a huge machine of silver, with a 
 high and broadly-overarching dome of crystal ; and 
 from this body came a great stalwart ticking, as unlike 
 the sound of modern time-pieces as was the accent of 
 our fathers of two or three centuries ago unlike our own. 
 
 " Two angels," said Mr. Don. " Foreign ! " Then, 
 looking closely, he read : " Diependorper, Haarlaem." 
 
 " That ain't Russian, though ! " said Mrs. Wadham, 
 thoughtfully. Soon she added, in a cheery tone : " But 
 we've got English watches and Swiss watches. How 
 do you suppose they ever carried such a thing as 
 that ? " asked the lady, having relieved her own 
 anxiety. " Had a servant, I suppose, to lug it in his 
 pocket, and take it out when his master wanted to 
 know what the time was. Silver, you see : couldn't 
 trust 'em with gold. That's the reason they did it," 
 she continued, finding confirmations for her theory 
 multiplying as she went on.
 
 172 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " Not very far out of the way," said Mr. Doii, com- 
 paring the notes of time upon its face with those of a 
 very good-looking gold watch which he took out of his 
 pocket, and speaking ti good deal as if the old horologe 
 had brought down with it a current of time from cen- 
 turies far off, and as if it were as marvellous that this 
 should hit that of to-day as that the eastern and west- 
 ern shafts of the great tunnel should come so wonder- 
 fully together. 
 
 " Ah ! " he exclaimed, putting his forefinger to the 
 crystal. Mrs. Wadham's head went instantly down to 
 see. 
 
 " That's some sort of lingo that's too much for me," 
 she said, leaving Mr. Don at work, with pencil and 
 paper, copying. 
 
 " Well, now for my boys ! " said the lady, and she 
 started off. " Have they got bedclothes enough ? " she 
 asked, feeling between the sheets. " Dear me ! what's 
 the child got here ? A turtle, I do believe ! " and she 
 drew her hand hastily out again. 
 
 Mrs. Wad ham was not a woman to take counsel 
 with her fears, when any thing was to be done ; so she 
 assailed the work again, and flung the clothes down 
 over the bed's foot; and there, uncovered, on the mid- 
 dle of the lower sheet, stood something more congenial 
 to boys than " turtles," and perhaps less foreign to their 
 beds, something between two plates of crockery, and 
 looking like rich pastry. She lifted the upper plate, 
 and showed a delicate, flaky pie. 
 
 " What things boys are ! " said the mother. " Now, 
 he's been home and got that, without letting anybody 
 know. That's my china. Well, we won't leave it 
 there," she added, taking it and looking round the little
 
 MB. DON AND ANOTHER JOIN FORCES. 173 
 
 room. " 'Twon't do to put it where it'll get him into 
 trouble. (If a tootor should see it, he'd take possession 
 of it.) What's in here, I wonder ? " and she opened 
 a small standing cupboard. " There ! we'll put it in 
 here," removing some of the rubbish of newspapers 
 which nearly filled it. " Ah ! what's this ? " and she 
 laid open another plate of pie, much like the former. 
 " Well done ! " she said, and then proceeded to explain : 
 " That child has a very delicate stomach. He always 
 liked to have something a little nice, between his meals, 
 if he felt hungry : I was so before him. Entirely dif- 
 ferent from his brother. He'll hardly take any thing, 
 if you'll give it to him, away from table." 
 
 A human sound, evidently coming from some hidden 
 overhearers, not far off, showed that there were other 
 occupants of the dormitory, beside those in sight. 
 
 She shut the door of the cupboard, and then called 
 Mr. Don's attention to the furniture of the little room, 
 among which a pair of boxing-gloves was conspicuous, 
 with portraits of pointers and setters and some highly- 
 colored lady on horseback. 
 
 " Every thing's very neat, Therese, very proper," 
 she said to the respectable person whom Mr. Don and 
 she called by different names, and who, though she 
 had in some way disposed of her pile of clothes, was 
 still busy very near them. " Now we'll see the other," 
 Mrs. Wadham said, and went across to the opposite side 
 of the dormitory. 
 
 " This boy ain't like his brother : this boy's all for 
 reading," in confirmation of which assertion copies of 
 the "Youth's Magazine" and some closely-printed 
 newspapers might be seen upon his table. 
 
 Mrs. Wadham was not, like many persons, satisfied
 
 174 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 to have the character she had given her son rest upon 
 her own statement only, but was entirely willing to put 
 it to a test ; either not observing or nqt regarding her 
 companion's looking at his watch, as if he were becom- 
 ing a little impatient, and felt the importance of time. 
 The lady walked straight up to this son's little private 
 lock-up, and, finding it fastened, went at once across, and 
 borrowed the other's key. The inside of the cupboard, 
 when opened, certainly showed a different set of con- 
 tents from that of his brother with the delicate stomach ; 
 for here was an open box of " devilled " ham, and a 
 large bottle of mixed pickles, in which was a fork of 
 silver or plated ware. " He seems to be doing pretty 
 well, too," said the mother, after a short pause. " But 
 this isn't business, you may say " (turning to Mr. Don). 
 " I ain't forgetting. Therese, I'm going to take home 
 this fork," and shutting the cupboard-door, without any 
 further remark upon the different characters of her two 
 boys, she returned the key to its own lock, and, hold- 
 ing the fork, said, " Now we'll go ! I saw a scrap of 
 paper on the floor in a room we were examining : I don't 
 believe but what I could wrap this fork in it, without 
 hurting anybody ; " and, going to Brade's sleeping-room, 
 she picked up a piece of paper, calling Therese's atten- 
 tion to it, as she did so, and promising to return it, 
 "if it was of any consequence." 
 
 " Let's see before we start," she said. " We can tell 
 pooty well if it amounts to any thing," and she looked 
 with some significance to Mr. Don, who was, or seemed, 
 entirely calm and unintelligent. " It's a boy's writing," 
 she said, having spread it open. " ' itwen gatrnpin ' she 
 read aloud, with growing animation, which seemed to 
 infect Mr. Don also, for he certainly listened, without
 
 MR. DON AND ANOTHER JOIN FORCES. 175 
 
 pretending to be unconcerned. " Well," she said, fold- 
 ing her fork in the paper, " I can't make any thing out 
 of it, any how. Remember, Therese, I'm answerable. 
 If you're ready," she said, addressing her com- 
 panion. Then, in a low voice, " This '11 come in very 
 good at our tableau." 
 
 Mr. Don turned and bade "good afternoon" to "Mrs. 
 Latham," and then followed the large lady out, and 
 down the stairs. As they went, sounds of steps and 
 quick voices (among these some quieter tones of a 
 woman) could be heard in the dormitory which they 
 had just left. 
 
 She took her way this time through the front hall. 
 As they went, she said : "I've been put back a little 
 with my party. I depend upon Mr. Greenwood ; and 
 he went off, just as I was giving out my invitations, to 
 his sister. It's a complimentary party to Brade, de- 
 jooney, in the afternoon, because Mr. Warren won't 
 let 'em come in the evening. I had to write to the 
 Russian Ambassador myself, and I did, autograph. 
 I told him about his young countryman, of exalted 
 family. I said his interest in him would bring him ; 
 but I wouldn't ask him to take that step. I'd bear all 
 expenses, both ways, here and back, gladly, gladly. I 
 wrote a second time, because I hadn't got any answer, 
 and set the day, and said my oifer would hold good, if 
 he come without any warning. I hope you'll meet 
 him." 
 
 Mr. Don expressed his pleasure at the prospect of 
 meeting so distinguished a personage, and they found 
 themselves near the door. 
 
 People are apt if their tho lights are sufficiently col- 
 lected in the moment of victory, to tax themselves
 
 176 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 with any excesses or short-comings which they can see 
 in their own conduct, in the pursuit of that glittering 
 prize. Mrs. Wadham said, as she went downstairs : 
 " There ! I don't know as I've hurt anybody." 
 
 " You haven't disturbed the arrangements of the 
 house, I think," said Mr. Don. 
 
 " I think not ! " she said. " Now," as she looked 
 about her, outside of the front door, which she had 
 chosen this time. " Oh ! here ! won't you take some 
 flowers for me, with a message, to Mrs. Warren ? " she 
 asked of an abstracted-looking boy, so far off that he 
 was obliged to come near, and she to repeat the mes- 
 sage, before he could accept or decline it. 
 
 " A message," she repeated, " and a bouquet to Mrs. 
 Warren, with my compliments, Mrs. Wadham's com- 
 pliments, and say that I didn't see any of the family 
 about. Eldridge ! those flowers ! " and having com- 
 mitted them to her messenger, who, without her recog- 
 nizing him, was no other than our friend Alonzo Peters, 
 and having taken in Mr. Don, and having settled her- 
 self thoroughly in her seat, she was driven away, at a 
 very good rate, by the undined (if he was still the 
 undined) Eldridge.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 TRAPPING, AND SOME AFTER-TROUBLE. 
 
 BUADE had made his way thoroughly into the man- 
 ifold life of the School. Remsen and Antony (with 
 Peters added) trapped together; and it may be sup- 
 posed that neither of them was so entirely taken up with 
 lessons as not to have a considerable piece of his heart 
 left to bestow upon the making and setting and visiting 
 of traps. Caesar, with his Belga? and JEdui, and Allo- 
 broges, and Aduatuci, and Helvetii, and his indirect 
 discourse, and whatever else there is about him, was 
 construed and parsed and understood. Some way was 
 made in Greek, too ; and glimpses of flashing shields 
 and spears and helmets were beginning to gleam athwart 
 the lively boyish fancy. Already Antony, though 
 hardly out of the alphabet, even professed a strong 
 drawing toward this foremost of earthly tongues. On 
 the other hand, Remsen, who was a bright fellow, 
 though he did not get through his work always with 
 the same steadiness, very honestly acknowledged that 
 " he did not like either of 'em, but Latin wasn't as bad 
 as Greek." 
 
 Trapping they both went into with equal heartiness. 
 
 Remsen had, possibly, a little more skill in getting up 
 
 traps; and Brade was as often good at choosing ground. 
 
 They were both equally untiring in following up their 
 
 8* i
 
 178 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 business; and as they had got leave to "set" in Mr. 
 Freeman's land, by being early in asking, they were 
 thought to have as good ground as any boys in the 
 School. In it was the pine wood, where, occasionally, a 
 hare, called by the boys from his winter dress a " white 
 rabbit," used to be caught. 
 
 Their self-chosen partner, Peters, was endured, and 
 really showed himself to have some skill and a great 
 deal of willingness. 
 
 One thing will be observed, that, as Brade's fortune 
 has already brought him a good deal into contact with 
 Towne, though they are not in any way intimates, so 
 it happens that, somehow or other, they are still brought 
 together in the life of the School. In this trapping, 
 while on one side of them (for the whole neighborhood 
 was parcelled out and appropriated) Will Hirsett had 
 got leave, with Meadows ; on the other, were Towne 
 and Wilkins and Tarleton. This last boy grumbled 
 much that his party had not got the other ground. 
 
 Babble-brook (or Brabble-brook) ran through the 
 whole ; and one particular piece of marshy ground along 
 that stream was in that lot. There was the most 
 promising spot in the whole neighborhood (if not miai^ 
 irjg ouov^tv^g, as Brade exultingly said, when Rem- 
 sen and he were making their first survey of their 
 domain on a breezy, warm afternoon in early October) 
 for finding muskrats. Tom Spencer, late of St. Bart's, 
 had, as the tradition ran, been in the habit of catching 
 them there "hand over hand." It was said that he 
 had bought with the proceeds the best pair of skates 
 in the School. 
 
 So now for the boys' trapping; and let the young 
 fellows skip straight over to Remsen and Brade, except
 
 TRAPPING, AND SOME AFTER-TROUBLE. 179 
 
 such of them as are wise enough to go along with a few 
 of us old-time school-boys in two or three beautiful 
 reflections here. 
 
 Are there any such dewy mornings as those that we 
 look back to in the young days of life ? Are there any 
 such warm, balmy, hazy afternoons as those that were 
 new to the fresh glance of the school-boy ? Tell me, you 
 that are limping, now, on the sunny side of the city-street, 
 with well-wrapped throats and rheumy eyes, and flabby 
 old cheeks, and hands stiffened to the grip of the 
 accountant's pen and leaves; or you that, in close 
 chariot, behind high-stepping horses and arrogant coach- 
 man, held up a red nose and shift a gouty foot unseen, 
 were there ever such goings-out as those, after school, 
 to the heart of the woods or the brook-side, forty-odd 
 years ago, before we knew enough to care for bonds 
 and stocks and shares, or to stop even for an instant, 
 on our way, or even to stay the busy blade of our knife 
 to hear the most startling story from 'Change ? The 
 breaking-up of camp, with tramping and champing of 
 horses, and clanking of accoutrements, and roll and 
 rattle of drums, and tan-ta-ra, tan-ta-ra of trumpets, 
 and rumble and din and clash, is an exciting scene; and 
 so the sailing of the huge, far-bound ship, with the 
 jostle of luggage and package and crate and passengers, 
 and the driving up of carriages and drays and wagons, 
 and a clatter of block and tackle, and a sound of down- 
 kept might of machinery, and a rush of steam, and a 
 flapping of sails, and a wafting of colors, is a scene of 
 life and bustle ; so, too, the sympathy of a listening 
 crowd, with fixed, burning eyes and pale cheeks, or 
 sliding tears or sudden sobs, will draw the speaker out 
 to the larger outlines of humanity; and so the setting-
 
 180 ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 forth, in full dress, with some smell of flowers, and a little 
 stiffness of posture, in lamp-lighted and smoothly-run- 
 ning coach, and with a sense of bustle and glare, as \ve 
 draw nearer to the house of many shining windows and 
 often-opening door where the ball or evening-party is 
 to be, keeps all the blood astir, if one is new to it. 
 
 But to get up early in the morning, with the mists, 
 all waiting for the sun to scatter them ; to tramp over 
 damp earth and wet grass, mingling our white breath 
 with the other vapors ; to feel, after a while, the slow 
 warmth of the great Heater on side or back ; to go, 
 crumbling the rotten leaves and crackling the dry limbs 
 under foot, leaping the rail-fence and stone wall; to 
 come down on one knee at our figure-four traps, to scan 
 and then to climb our sapling hickory; to guess the 
 time from a watch that always acted with a happy 
 independence of every other regulator and keeper of 
 periodical succession, in the universe; to hurry back 
 through all the bright cheeriness and glitter of morn- 
 ing, this was life at its best; was it not? When, 
 since, has life been better? Now for the boys of 
 to-day. 
 
 It was on the morning of exactly such a day school- 
 life not being yet fairly opened, and there being about 
 one good hour, and that not free of anxious care about 
 time that Remsen and Brade were going down West 
 Road, while a fog still lay over the face of a deepish 
 valley, just as preparations were going on all over the 
 land for the sun's coming-up. They were not quite so 
 talkative as if the hour were later, but hurried on, 
 speculating a little upon chances, but stopping for 
 nothing. As the day grew brighter, so they, being 
 part of nature, grew brighter with it.
 
 TRAPPING, AND SOME AFTER-TROUBLE. 181 
 
 There had been just rain enough the night before to 
 soften the ground without making it muddy ; but that 
 day all was clear. 
 
 From what they said, it appeared that, in spite of his 
 being " on bounds," and so, of course, having no leave, 
 Towne had gone down, and Tarleton and Wilkins ; and 
 moreover, from the hope which they expressed that no 
 " wolverine " had been along the line of traps, it seemed 
 that there was danger of some ill-minded persons 
 having stolen the "catch." 
 
 On the second hill, they met one Phil Rainor, whose 
 reputation was not good, and whose relations to the 
 St. Bart's boys had not been always friendly, for he 
 had, at one time, been thought to make a great many 
 dishonest pennies with the proceeds of his robberies of 
 the St. Bart's traps. Indeed, violent suspicions had, 
 more than once, gone on through the process of abso- 
 lute demonstration to much more practical violence; in 
 which (beside others) Towne, for his party, and Rem- 
 sen, for himself, had used arguments more weighty and 
 eifective than any that they knew how to make with 
 words. 
 
 Rainor was now, professedly, on the footing of a- 
 mutual understanding, although the Bartliolomajans 
 had not yet made up their minds that he was a changed 
 boy. 
 
 This time, at least, his hands were empty, and there 
 was no load in his pockets, or hanging about him. 
 This, the intelligent eyes of the two boys could see, at 
 a glance, almost as far as they could see him. There 
 was something, therefore, almost like cordiality, in their 
 hasty greeting as they ran by. 
 
 Phil Rainor, too, seemed more than usually hearty ;
 
 182 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 for he called after them: "That's your snare (ain't it?) 
 down there by Indian Rock ? Well, it's ketched a big 
 white rabbit ! " 
 
 This news, as may be supposed, put new spirit into 
 every limb of our trappers. Over the first fence they 
 went at such a rate that Brade tripped on a branch of 
 a tree, inside, and went down sprawling with Remsen 
 on top of him ; both picking themselves up in the short- 
 est possible time, and in excellent humor. 
 
 "Hurt your side, Anty?" asked Remsen, as Brade 
 held a hand to his bosom. 
 
 " It's the watch ! " answered Antony, showing, when 
 he took away his hand, a lump very large to be made 
 by any ordinary time-piece. 
 
 "Don't stop to look at it now!" said Remsen; and 
 on they went. 
 
 "He knows everybody's traps, doesn't he?" said 
 Brade. 
 
 " Yes," answered Remsen, " and I don't see what he's 
 round 'em for, unless for some badness ; " but it was 
 bright morning, and the boys were in good cheer. 
 Besides, they agreed that he had given them good 
 news, and that, if he had had any plunder with him, they 
 would have seen some sign of it. So Phil Rainor went 
 out of their thoughts absolved, for this time. 
 
 What they had said about Towne and others being 
 before them was true; for Towne and Wilkins, with 
 Tarleton behind, were coming up before our two had 
 got to their ground. Towne was in luck, too, it would 
 seem, as well as they ; for he swung in the air some- 
 thing which their quick eyes recognized as " a big 
 white rabbit." Beasts of that sort were rare ; and it 
 must have been a sort of golden shower for Towne to
 
 TRAPPING, AND SOME AFTER-TROUBLE. 183 
 
 have one, and for them to have one, on the same morn- 
 ing. 
 
 They quickened their steps ; although they said, as if 
 the same reasoning had passed through both minds, 
 " We've got plenty of time." 
 
 Towne added a caution that "they'd better hurry;" 
 a piece of advice which good people are pretty generally 
 ready to give to those later than themselves. Tarleton 
 added, quite as much in the usual style of boys, 
 
 " Mo ! you needn't hurry : you haven't got any thing." 
 
 Remsen and Brade were already a good way on, 
 running helter-skelter, when Towne's warning reached 
 them. 
 
 M We're going coj- rajjtara. * now," said Brade, like a 
 little pedant, perhaps ; but both were in fine spirits, and 
 so Remsen did not object, and Antony enjoyed it. If 
 Remsen did not understand, he was not at the trouble 
 to ask an explanation. 
 
 Time was short, and all the way was to be measured 
 back again to St. Bart's. So on they went, so fast that 
 they could not catch breath enough to make words 
 with. 
 
 " That fellow's cheated us ! " cried one, or both, as 
 they came within sight of their snare, and stood for an 
 instant, looking first at that, and then toward the right 
 and left. 
 
 " Hold on ! " said Remsen, " let's see ! the string's 
 all gone close to the bough! see that bit dangling!" 
 Then, showing a bit of white fur, which his sharp, and 
 practised eye had detected, " Sec here ! there's been a 
 rabbit in it, and a white rabbit, too ! " 
 
 " He's got away ! " said Brade, mournfully. 
 * As fast as possible.
 
 184 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 Remsen was a boy of experience in trapping, and he 
 said : " So he might ; but," he added, " no rabbit ever 
 got away from one snare and into another, right off! 
 And two such fellows ain't caught in one night, neither. 
 If any fellow'd do that, ho ought to be horsewhipped ! 
 He ought to be turned out of the school ! 'Tain't likely 
 he'd break that big cord we had ! " 
 
 There was much confusion of persons and things in 
 this speech, as, of course, in his mind ; but the wrong 
 was clear, and so Remsen kicked the tree, and threw 
 his hat on the ground, and stamped it with his foot. It 
 was pretty hard, after their cheery hopes, to find worse 
 than nothing, and to have the evidence before their 
 eyes that their snare had had and lost its game ! Brade 
 looked cast-down enough, while Remsen thus vented 
 his indignant anger on things in general. 
 
 o o o o 
 
 " I tell you what," said Remsen, " there's been foul 
 play! and look at the footsteps round here, plenty of 
 'em ! " and he turned away. " Well, leave 'em so ! " 
 he said. " Don't go near 'em, so's to scrape 'em out." 
 
 Brade proposed to make a round of their traps, as 
 fast as they could (for time was short) ; and Remsen 
 mechanically assented. 
 
 They made the round, with little hope, perhaps, but 
 in very short time. They found nothing. 
 
 " Well," said Remsen, " we may as well go back;" and 
 they set out for home. 
 
 The day came up, not with the thick-springing bird- 
 songs of June or May, to be sure, not with fragrance 
 of flower ; but it came up with splendor of sky and 
 sparkle of earth, and cheery sounds from the farm- 
 yards, and hammering of some carpenter or carpenter- 
 ing farmer.
 
 TRAPPING, AND SOME AFTER-TROUBLE. 185 
 
 It might not be true that our two disappointed boys 
 saw or heard much of what was going on ; but it was 
 true that their loss did not quite take away all spirit 
 from them, perhaps because they had morning blood 
 in them. 
 
 " Certainly old Towne wouldn't take ours, to trick 
 us," said Brade, " and give it to us when we get 
 up?" 
 
 " 'Tain't likely," said Remsen. " We sha'n't see our 
 rabbit very soon." 
 
 There was a smithy on that road, and, as they came 
 up to it, Rainor came out to meet them, holding in one 
 hand a forge-hammer, and in the other a bit of iron, as 
 if just from the anvil. 
 
 " Where's your rabbit ? " he asked, looking from one 
 to the other. 
 
 " We thought we'd leave him down there for some- 
 body to steal," said Remsen. 
 
 "Why! hain't ye got him?" asked Rainor, again, 
 looking very much astonished. Then, as the boys went 
 on, he went, on beside them, and kept up his talking. 
 "Ye see Towne's, didn't ye? Well, jest about s'ch 
 another whapper. I tell ye how you'll know your'n : 
 he had his right ear split down quite a ways, an' his 
 right fore foot bloody about the toes. I took p'ticklar 
 notice to him, for I come right down 'cross lots, jest 
 where he was. He was in your snare there, ketched 
 right round his belly. I should jest want to take a 
 look at Towne's, 'f I was you, white, and a brown 
 spot on his nigh shoulder." 
 
 " I suppose rabbits are all alike," said Brade ; " but 
 what's his ' nigh ' shoulder ? " he asked, puzzled by this 
 rustic word.
 
 186 " ANTONY BEADS. 
 
 " Why ! " said Rainor, " his left shoulder, of course ; 
 but rabbits ain't alike, not by a long chalk! Not that 
 sort, at no time o' year, nary two of 'em, never." The 
 negatives in this sentence would make a study for 
 philologists and grammarians, as showing the kindred 
 character and habit of two great sister-languages of 
 the Aryan stock, the Greek and the English. Ho 
 finished in this way: " an' there ain't two of 'em ketched 
 in a year, I was'go'n' to say." 
 
 Here he said "he must go back to the shop," and 
 left them. From this time our friends, though they 
 kept up their rate of going, went silently. 
 
 For some while, Antony, still hurrying on, was pull- 
 ing earnestly at something which he seemed determined 
 to get out of his pocket, but which, for its part, was 
 equally resolute not to come. He bent over, and 
 wriggled his body (still going on), and put up one 
 kuee, half stopping as he did so ; he worked the thing 
 one way and the other ; he pushed down, and then 
 pulled up again, until at length there came up to the 
 light of the morning a large, round, thick thing of 
 
 O O O ' ' O 
 
 silver, a strange-looking bivalve, with one of its 
 sides obscured by mist, doubtless from the heat of 
 the boy's body. 
 
 Nick Remsen wiped the mist off with his cuff; and 
 both Brade and he stopped and studied, conlidingly, 
 the dial-face, which now stood revealed in silver, under 
 a crystal dome rounded like that of the Capitol, or (to 
 be classical) like the bossy shield of Achilles. On the 
 broad plain of silver was an outside circle of Arabic 
 numerals, and an inner circle of numeral letters, the 
 former for minutes, the latter for hours. Other devices, 
 of angels and scrolls, we pass over for the time.
 
 TRAPPING, AND SOME AFTER-TROUBLE. 187 
 
 The boys studied the pointing of the two strong 
 arms. 
 
 " Only a little over half-past ! " said Rernsen, wiping 
 once more the glass, which was still smeary. " We'll 
 see Towne before roll-call : there's time enough ; " add- 
 ing, presently, " no Bartlemas fellow'd steal our rabbit, 
 of course, that ain't to be thought of." 
 
 As they came into the school-grounds, every thing 
 was quiet, with no signs of life abroad. Remsen led 
 the way over to the gymnasium. A board stood up 
 against the eastern end, on which was stretched, by 
 tacks, the fresh skin of a hare, or, as the boys called it, 
 " a white rabbit." Brade could not yet have got over 
 the feeling of their own loss, and still, so strong was 
 instinct in him, that he began, as soon as he saw the 
 raw pelt, to say something about "Marsyas," whose 
 skin Apollo had flayed oif. 
 
 Remsen, for his part, was altogether in serious 
 earnest. He walked straight up, in silence, to the 
 board, and put his finger on the green skin, although 
 he hardly needed the assurance of touch to establish its 
 freshness. 
 
 " He's carried off the head," said he, after looking 
 about hastily, on that side and on the back side of the 
 building. " There's the Tutor's bell ! " he said. " Why, 
 it can't be so late ! You saw what o'clock it was." 
 
 In spite of the authority of the watch, coupled with 
 the testimony of common sense, the boys hurried over 
 to the storm-house door, Brade saying, as they went, 
 " I thought it was very still all about." 
 
 Luckily for them, the boys were quiet in their seats ; 
 and the two, as they came inside the hall, could see 
 that something had been going on. They went silently
 
 188 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 to their places, and evidently were each marked tardy ; 
 but it was plain that the roll had not been called, and 
 they were safe for breakfast. Sam Blake looked half 
 across the school-room, till he caught Remsen's eye, 
 and then raised his brows, as if asking a question. 
 Remsen hastily shook his head. 
 
 The roll was called, and the boys went out orderly, 
 as usual, to their breakfast. Towne was inclined to be 
 communicative, as he commonly was, on the way, 
 turning round and saying something to a boy behind, 
 or calling out, in a loud whisper, to some one in front. 
 Remsen and Brade were unapproachable. One thing 
 he seemed to think would prevail with the latter. 
 Turning round and facing him, he said rhetorically, 
 with a good deal of gesture, " PEDICULUM CAPTAVT ! " 
 but he produced no eifect on the boy whom he so 
 learnedly addressed. In his eagerness to vent his 
 Latin sentence, he probably had not known how loudly 
 he was speaking. Gaston heard it, at some distance in 
 front, and immediately, in spite of rules and tutors, 
 burst out laughing. 
 
 " Towne Avants to say he's caught a rabbit," said he, 
 " and he says he's caught a ! " The word was whis- 
 pered in the ear of the next boy, and while poor Towne 
 looked amazed, and presently very sheepish, the commu- 
 nication passed from one to another as fast almost as a 
 message by telegraph, and everybody was laughing at 
 the Latinity which its author had uttered with so much 
 confidence and flourish. The smaller boys could hardly 
 walk for laughter. 
 
 "Towne!" said Mr. Bruce, the Tutor, "stand out 
 of the procession." And he took his stand at one side, 
 evidently not understanding things.
 
 TRAPPING, AND SOME AFTER-TROUBLE. 189 
 
 " What do you mean by such a disgusting sentence ! " 
 asked the Tutor. 
 
 " Why, I don't see how it's disgusting, sir. All I 
 meant to say was, ' I've caught a rabbit.' " 
 
 " Well, that isn't what you did say," answered the 
 Tutor. 
 
 " Why, Gas , why, sir, one o' the fellows gave it me 
 for good Latin. He told me that's what it meant, and 
 that's what I meant to say," said Towne, Avith evident 
 honesty. 
 
 " Gaston's Latin is well enough," said Mr. Bruce, 
 smiling ; " but you'd better take care of people's giving 
 you Latin till you know enougb to find out what it 
 means." 
 
 " Oh ! I don't mean to say it was Gaston " began 
 Towne, but stopped there, and smiled, too, like the 
 Tutor. 
 
 The procession had gone into breakfast, the blessing 
 had been said, the clatter of chairs had ended, and the 
 boys' chatter and the clink of knife and plate had 
 begun. Mr. Bruce wanted breakfast, no doubt, but he 
 had not done with Towne. 
 
 " That mud looks fresh upon your clothes, Towne," 
 said he ; and it was only after acknowledging that ho 
 had broken bounds, a thing which would bring a pretty 
 heavy penalty, that the poor lad was sent in to his fel- 
 lows, and Mr. Bruce followed. 
 
 The boys had gone to the dining-room in very good 
 humor, while the Tutors looked extraordinarily grave 
 and unconscious of the fun. As Towne came in, still 
 sheepish-looking, he nearly set the laughter all going 
 again : even Brade and Remsen could hardly resist the 
 influence ; and, as Towne sat down at table, they both
 
 190 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 looked at him, not savagely. Presently, something 
 happened which changed the condition of things. 
 
 A smoking, savory-looking mess was brought in, with 
 much gravity, by the head waiter, and set down in 
 front of Towne. At the sight, his late discomfitures 
 seemed to slip out of his mind, and a look of good- 
 nature and hospitality took possession of his face. 
 With the courtesy customary at St. Bart's, he immedi- 
 ately set his dish in progress, to share his dainties with 
 others. First it went to the Rector, and was duly 
 acknowledged, though not touched. Towne, though a 
 lazy fellow, and sometimes grumbling, was free-hearted 
 and loyal ; and as he looked up, blushing, to the Rec- 
 tor's table, wishing to see some of his rabbit accepted 
 by the Head of the School, his plain face was bettered. 
 " You fellows didn't get any thing this morning," he 
 said, across the table, " take some of our rabbit, won't 
 you?" and he set it forward toward Remsen and Brade. 
 It had been served up in style ; and the head and long 
 ears made quite a show, separated by a bit of toast 
 from the other members. 
 
 The two boys had already lost the expression which 
 they had brought in to the table ; and they both coldly 
 declined, Brade following Rerosen. Towne, perhaps, 
 had not observed the distance of their manner, for 
 he pressed his kindness on them, telling them that 
 " there was plenty, and that they need not be afraid to 
 take it." 
 
 Remsen went so far as to look closely at one of tho 
 ears, while the head was near him ; but he put no hand 
 to the dish. The owner was hurt. 
 
 " There are plenty more that'll take it, if you won't," 
 ho said ; a sentiment which was heartily responded to
 
 TRAPPING, AND SOME AFTER-TROUBLE. 191 
 
 by Arthur Dover, commonly called " Fatty," and by 
 Wilkins and others. The dish circulated, first to 
 Towne's two partners, then to others, and came back, 
 considerably lessened, to the hospitable first partner. 
 He showed, by his way of dealing with it, that lie 
 understood and appreciated it thoroughly, even though 
 he had not been able to give it its Latin name. 
 
 Breakfast passed : the rabbit was all consumed ; but 
 with this gathering coldness and storm, which were evi- 
 dent to all the boys in the neighborhood, there was an 
 uncomfortable silence at that part of the younger table ; 
 and others after Brade and Remsen were rather awk- 
 ward in speaking to Towne and his partners. All of 
 them were observed, as if there was a general waiting 
 to know what was to come. 
 
 Doubts, suspicions, disagreements, quarrels (it is good 
 that we have to go out of kindly English to Latin for 
 these words) are very serious things with boys, as well 
 as with their elders. Boys of good feelings have not 
 yet brushed through and thrown aside, or trampled 
 down, many estrangements and embittered friendships, 
 and so grown heedless of them. 
 
 In a case like this, between Towne and the two other 
 boys, it would be impossible to believe, without over- 
 whelming proof, that any of their own companions 
 could be guilty of downright and low thieving. There 
 are, of course, boys, as there are men, who carry teas- 
 ing, and what they call " practical joking " to the 
 utmost stretch of falseness, short of making actual gain 
 of it, at last. But to take, and carry away, and skin 
 another boy's rabbit; to eat the flesh and keep the 
 skin, this could scarcely be believed of school-fellows 
 anywhere; and, of course, of school-fellows at St.
 
 192 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 Bart's. Towne, or others, might make themselves ex- 
 ceedingly disagreeable, they might be even a stand- 
 ing nuisance, as confirmed "practical jokers" always 
 are ; but they would not steal, and then lie about the 
 theft. 
 
 Yet the thing looked badly, and must be explained. 
 
 This would be the natural reasoning of Remsen and 
 Brade. 
 
 As things stood, they could hardly get away from 
 the conclusion that he, or his fellows, had taken their 
 rabbit ; but they had not asked him " up and down." 
 This, therefore, they proposed to do. 
 
 Towne, sitting lower at the table, went out before 
 them; and, by the time they got well abroad, he was 
 already on the gravel, marking out the ground for some 
 purpose, attended by Wilkins and Dover. As Remsen 
 and Brade drew near, he stood up from his occupation, 
 and of himself addressed them. 
 
 Our readers already know the bright freshness of 
 that morning, and have felt the spirit and strength 
 which such a day brings up with it. 
 
 "What ailed you fellows, at breakfast? Anybocly'd 
 have thought our rabbit was rotten, or something, by 
 the way you acted." 
 
 This was certainly rather frank and manly. 
 
 " I should want to know where you got that rabbit, 
 first ? " answered Remsen 
 
 " Why, we got him out of the field, like anybody," 
 said Towne. 
 
 " But I should like to know whose snare you caught 
 him with," said the other. 
 
 " I don't see what that has to do with the goodness 
 of the meat," said Towne.
 
 TRAPPING, AND SOME AFTER-TROUBLE. 193 
 
 Remsen made an emphatic gesture with his head, as 
 he answered, 
 
 " A good deal to do with my eating him." 
 
 " Why ! why ain't Tarleton's trap as good as yours, 
 any day, I should like to know ? " said Towne. " I guess 
 that's a noo idea, that one fellow's trap's wholesomer'n 
 another's." He spoke like one that had common sense 
 on his side, but could not see what the other party were 
 driving at. 
 
 " And when did you ever know even a common rab- 
 bit get caught in an iron trap ? " asked the other. 
 
 Remsen was growing pale and agitated. Before he 
 spoke again, Bracle, who had been entirely silent, spoke, 
 and it was plain that he, too, was very much excited, 
 though in another way, for he was flushed. 
 
 "But did you take him out of our snare?" he asked, 
 directly. 
 
 " Take him out of your snare ! " exclaimed Towne, 
 now, for the first time, showing any understanding of 
 the case, or any real feeling. " No ! of course we didn't 
 take him out of your snare ! You don't suppose we're 
 thieves, do you ? " 
 
 Now the thing was brought to a point. The boys 
 suspected had denied, absolutely, that they had done 
 the bad thing suspected. 
 
 Wilkins had come immediately forward at the first 
 question, and had stood ready to come into the confer- 
 ence, whenever there should be a chance. Now, then, 
 Wilkins, the instant the denial had been made, sup- 
 ported it by testimony of his own. 
 
 " Why, I was the first one that got there," he said, 
 " and there he was in our trap when I got there." 
 
 This testimony seemed clear and conclusive : that 
 
 9 M
 
 194 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 very rabbit which had been skinned and eaten had been 
 caught fairly in the other party's trap. What could be 
 said ? Remsen, however, was still full of question. 
 
 Now, even lawyers, although they are men, and in 
 constant practice, seem sometimes to make poor work 
 of examining witnesses ; and Remsen had not the 
 experience of a lawyer. His questions, therefore, were, 
 most likely, not so well aimed or so well expressed as 
 they might have been. 
 
 "You didn't know there was a rabbit in our snare, 
 this morning? and his left ear was split down? and hig 
 right fore foot bloody, between the first and second 
 claws ? and a brown spot on his left shoulder ? " 
 
 " What are you fellows jawing about ? How was I 
 going to know ? I never went near your trap, I, nor 
 any of us,' either," answered Towne. " Suppose I had 
 known ? what then ? " 
 
 By this time, boys coming and going had begun to 
 stop, in the way, beside these excited disputants. In- 
 deed, quite a crowd was gathering. Outside of the 
 ring, Alonzo Peters was flitting about, paling and flush- 
 ing, and sometimes stopping, and seemingly on the point 
 of speaking. 
 
 " Let's go off, somewhere else," said Brade to Rem- 
 sen. " We don't want the whole school round us." 
 
 Remsen was too full of his subject to care about 
 surroundings. Towne, too, said that he " did not care 
 how many came round. They might come and wel- 
 come, for all he cared." 
 
 The bearing of Remsen's question is not, perhaps, 
 obvious to the reader; nor was it, very likely, obvious 
 to Towne. " What have I got to do with your rabbit ? 
 Why didn't you bring up your rabbit, if you had one ?
 
 TRAPPING, AND SOME AFTER-TROUBLE. 195 
 
 What did you do with him ? " And Towne laughed 
 scornfully. 
 
 Remsen drew his hand out of his pocket, and held up 
 a hare's head : 
 
 " There's something just like ours, any way," said he, 
 showing the ear split down. 
 
 " That looks amazingly like mine ! " said Towne. 
 "My ear was so." 
 
 Some of the crowd laughed. 
 
 "I do believe that's my head," said Towne, "I'm 
 sure of it," he added, gaining strength of conviction, as 
 he looked at it longer. 
 
 Of course the chance of an easy joke was not lost 
 upon the crowd ; and Tom Hutchins, accordingly, 
 made as much of it as he could, calling out, more than 
 once, 
 
 " Towne's head ! Towne says that's his head ! Twig 
 the long ears it's got ! " 
 
 " That's your head if you want it," said Remsen, too 
 much in earnest to see any thing like a joke in the 
 case; "but I want you just to take notice to the way 
 that left ear is split down, just the way ours was." 
 
 " Well, what did you do with yours ? " asked Towne. 
 " Did you let it go ? " 
 
 " Let it go ! " exclaimed Remsen : " it's likely we'd let 
 it go, we never had it." 
 
 " Well, if here ain't a pretty story ! " said Towne : 
 "coming here, getting angry, and abusing a fellah like 
 a pickpocket! I can't make out what you mean, for 
 my part." 
 
 Brade had had very little share of the controversy; 
 but he had stood close up t > the two main speakers, 
 with his face flushed and his eyes sparkling, and he
 
 196 ANTONY BEADS. 
 
 joined a good deal of dumb show to the discussion, 
 looking from one speaker to the other, and handling 
 the head when it was brought forward. He now 
 spoke : 
 
 " Rainor told us he was in our snare," he said. 
 
 " Then Rainor was mistaken in the place, I suppose," 
 said Towne. 
 
 "No, he said our snare, by Indian Rock," insisted 
 Brade. 
 
 " Well, then, Rainor lies, that's all. If he says that 
 rabbit was in your snare, Indian Rock, or any rock, he 
 lies." 
 
 " He told us right about the ear, any way," said 
 Remsen ; " and he said there was a brown spot on the 
 left shoulder. Dar'st you let us look at the skin ? " 
 
 Towne turned with some dignity to the gathering of 
 boys before he answered, and having looked hastily 
 round, as if to see what shape public opinion was 
 taking, he said : 
 
 " Of course I dare ; but I say, before all these boys, 
 At first, I didn't know what you were driving at ; but 
 if you're going upon the supposition that we're thieves 
 till we've proved we ain't, after I've told you we found 
 that rabbit in our trap, I won't have any thing to do 
 with it. I'll leave it out to any fair judges, to any 
 two monitors, I say Russell and Lamson." 
 
 At this moment the bell, which had not improbably 
 been waiting the issue of the discussion, for its ringer 
 was mortal and a boy, began to roll over and over, and 
 sound its " Ding ! " in one direction, and its " Dong ! " 
 in another, and the gathering of boys began to move, 
 some running off immediately to the house, some 
 walking leisurely in the same direction, and even those
 
 TRAPPINGS, AND SOME AFTER-TROUBLE. 197 
 
 who did not yet leave the scene of controversy became 
 restless, as if keeping their legs ready to go at the last 
 moment. 
 
 "Rainor is a great liar," said Brade, who seemed 
 ready to relent and to make up, and who was now 
 impatient to go, and had half started. "I believe 
 Towne." 
 
 " But weren't the white hairs sticking right under- 
 neath our snare, when we saw it ? " asked Remsen ; and 
 again the complexion of things changed. 
 
 " Here comes Russell, now ! " said Brade. " Let's 
 leave it to him and Lamson, as Towne says." And, as 
 Russell, in coming up from the home play-ground, was 
 turning towards the school-house, the crowd, foremost 
 of whom Brade was allowed to go, as being one of the 
 parties, and of the parties the one most impatient to 
 have the difficulty settled, joined him ; and Brade and 
 Remsen hastily set the case before him, from their 
 side. 
 
 "And you got your information from Rainor, did 
 you?" 
 
 " And I say," said Towne, " that that rabbit was in 
 our trap, when we came to it." 
 
 " And I say that I came there first," said Wilkins, 
 " and he was there when I got there." 
 
 "And you all agree to take our judgment?" asked 
 Russell. Where's Tarleton ? " 
 
 " I will," said Towne, " if you'll only agree to take 
 time to it, and find out all about it." " And I," said 
 Brade ; " and I," said Wilkins ; " and I," said Remsen. 
 
 " There ought to be some person to watch the traps, 
 till you get there," said Towne. 
 
 " Well, the fellow for that is Jake Moody ; and he'll
 
 198 ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 do it, if you could only get him," said Russell, chang- 
 ing to optative or potential, as he thought how little 
 time they could command. 
 
 Before the words were out of his mouth, and without 
 regard to time or season, Remsen went off, like a 
 flash. 
 
 "Then you're all agreed?" Russell asked, as they 
 reached the door. 
 
 All who were there answered " yes ; " and the boys 
 went in, crowding and jostling and pushing, to be in 
 time. 
 
 Dover and Wilkins were compelled to give way to 
 every other member of the little throng; and then 
 Eugene Augustus Wilkins asserted himself upon Arthur 
 Dover, who was smaller, and succeeded in getting in 
 before him. Before the last boy was fairly in the 
 school-room, Remsen came, out of breath, but answer- 
 ing the inquisitive look of Blake and others by a quick, 
 affirmative, satisfied nod of the head. 
 
 Outside stayed sunshine, on the hills behind ; and 
 near the door a small litter of hockey-sticks and other 
 remains of boys. A smothered storm of bitterness 
 und angry feeling had come through the door.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 SOME FIGHTING THAT WILL DISGUST 
 BRUISERS. 
 
 ONE of Towne's comrades in trapping was, as will 
 be remembered, one Guy Tarleton. This boy, by 
 some reasoning of his own, had convinced himself that 
 his party had been " choused out " of the best trapping- 
 ground by Remsen and Brade's party, and had borne 
 an undying grudge. He was counted a thick-headed 
 and rather brutal boy ; but, in the opinion of the 
 School, had a sort of instinctive readiness and skill in 
 contriving and working against such lesser beasts as 
 lived in trees, in holes, and in stone fences. 
 
 He had been noisy in the few minutes after morning- 
 school, before dinner, over the suspicion which had 
 been thrown upon his partners and himself, and pro- 
 posed to " make those fellows eat dirt." His bluster 
 had had, at that time, little notice taken of it. At 
 table he had been silenced by the Tutor for loud talk- 
 ing. After dinner, the pent-up current of his anger 
 found its way again. 
 
 Towne told him that two of the monitors were going 
 to settle about the rabbit, and went off to some out- 
 door occupation, leaving him unappeased. 
 
 In the few minutes after dinner he had found out 
 Brade, reading, on one of the stairs, and tried to pick a 
 quarrel with him, but to no purpose; for Brade told
 
 200 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 him, pleasantly, that " he was reading about Franklin 
 and the icebergs, and wanted to be let alone ; that 
 the monitors' settlement would all be fair, and that 
 he, himself, would have no quarrel ; " and so kept on, 
 though not quite unruffled, with his book. 
 
 Even the words " cowardly " and " mean-spirited," 
 uttered near him, disturbed him only long enough to 
 look up with a contemptuous and impatient smile, and 
 he was instantly at his book again, only begging Tarle- 
 ton to go off. 
 
 Of course, boys began to gather, for they could not 
 have the stairway to themselves ; and things went 
 pretty fast, and a great many words were said in a 
 short time, as usual in such cases. 
 
 There were alert and wary bystanders, as usual. 
 " Look out ! " said one of these, " you'll have old Cor- 
 nell after you ! " 
 
 " No," said another, of the same sort, " he isn't in : 
 go ahead ! " 
 
 So Tarleton went on to say that he wanted satisfac- 
 tion from Brade, or Remsen, or Peters, he did not 
 care which ; he was not going to be called thief for 
 nothing. And when Brade told him that they had 
 not called his party thieves, it would have been just as 
 good to speak to a bull or a bull-dog. He then insisted 
 that they should say that they were a pack of liars, 
 and so on, in the usual way of blusterers. " He did not 
 care which it was, some of them must give him satis- 
 faction." 
 
 " Remsen and I are the only ones," said Brade : 
 "Peters isn't a strong fellow." 
 
 " Then come on," said Tarleton, " let's have a fair 
 fight!"
 
 FIGHTING THAT WILL DISGUST BRUISERS. 201 
 
 "No," said Antony, " I've got a particular reason." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " said Tarleton, with the most emphatic 
 contempt. " Cowards always have." 
 
 "But I have," said Brade, notwithstanding the 
 cowardly sound of the words. 
 
 "Royal Highness is afraid, and Remsen daresn't, and 
 Peters is only just strong enough to take a licking," 
 said Tarleton, in a triumphant tone. 
 
 " There's the bell ! " said some one ; but, after a mo- 
 ment's hush, it proved a false alarm. 
 
 " Leave out Peters," said Brade, " and you may come 
 at me." 
 
 Now the bell struck, and at the same instant a boy 
 came down the upper stairs, to the first landing, at one 
 jump, while there was a general stir of the whole group 
 among whom he came so suddenly, and with such risk 
 to their limbs. 
 
 " Clear the way here, fellows ! What's up now ? " 
 said Phil Lamson, who had in this way so abruptly 
 come down to them ; and after shoving the belligerent 
 Tarleton, and one or two others, up into a corner, he 
 seized Brade by the shoulders, and, by his own weight 
 and the force with which he was going, made him run 
 before him to the school-room door. 
 
 At the door Brade escaped from him, and, turning 
 back, met the little crowd of boys from the stairs, and 
 called to Tarleton, "Remember! I said I would." 
 
 If a fight with fists be not quite so fearful a thing 
 to look forward to as the standing up to kill and be 
 killed with pistols or small swords, there is enough 
 about the looking forward to make the blood run 
 faster, and to lay strong hold of the thoughts of a 
 9*
 
 202 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 boy with good feelings. So it must have been with 
 Brade. 
 
 The bell was still ringing, when Remsen made his 
 appearance, and Brade joined him, and w r ent a little 
 aside with him, but keeping slowly on, toward the 
 school-room door. 
 
 " Perhaps two of 'em together will be able to do 
 something!" said Tarleton, sneering, as he went in. 
 
 " I've promised to fight Tarleton, and I couldn't help 
 it. I wish I could have kept out of it, but I couldn't," 
 said Brade to his friend. 
 
 " Why, he can't whip you, I don't believe, Anty," 
 said Remsen. 
 
 " But I wanted to be confirmed," said Antony. 
 
 " Oh, well ! I don't believe a fight'll stop you, if you 
 don't kill anybody, or gouge his eye out, or something. 
 If 7 had to fight," I'd fight." 
 
 " I used to," said Antony ; " but I wanted to leave 
 off." 
 
 The bell was silent, as he spoke ; and every one hur- 
 ried into the school-room, and to his seat, for the half- 
 hour after dinner. 
 
 The Rector of the School, or " Caput," as the boys 
 more often called him, coming in, as the bell stopped, 
 to read out the inflictions, was generally observed of 
 almost all the young eyes, and was thought by the 
 boys to represent dignity and scholarship and author- 
 ity very well ; for though he was, if any thing, rather 
 short, yet he had thick, curling black hair, and a clear 
 eye and ruddy cheek, and a good strong voice. 
 
 When the lines were read out for that day, as 
 everybody had been predicting, in the school-phrase, 
 that " Towne would have to catch it " for breaking
 
 FIGHTING THAT WILL DISGUST BRUISERS. 203 
 
 " bounds," he sat up straight, like a man of mark, before 
 his name was reached, and exchanged side-giances 
 with Wilkins and Will Hirsett, who was always at 
 any one's beck in the school-room. Brade's five lines 
 for tardiness that morning, being his first, were re- 
 mitted, as usual in such a case. 
 
 Ten lines were read for Gaston, for disorder in going 
 to breakfast ; and at this Towne nodded his head, em- 
 phatically, to one side, with a smile of much content, 
 as if clinching that infliction for the trick played upon 
 him about the Latin for rabbit. Gaston, before he be- 
 thought himself, made a half motion as if to rise and 
 protest on the spot, and sat looking indignant. Pres- 
 ently, however, a happy thought seemed to strike him, 
 and he set himself to writing very fast. 
 
 And so the list went on : disorder, tardiness, noise in 
 dormitory, misbehavior at table, received their awards. 
 Remsen had his five lines for tardiness. Taiieton 
 came off clear, this time. Towne got double for break- 
 ing bounds, and, with all his accumulation of lines 
 
 o ' 
 
 before, was in so bad a plight that he now looked quite 
 chop-fallen. Among his other companions in misery 
 was Wilkins, as usual ; and Wilkins's look was one 
 combined of surprise and resignation. 
 
 Brade's hand went up, but was instantly dropped 
 again: he looked uncertain. 
 
 Gaston's hand was instantly up, after the reading-out 
 of the lines, and stayed up ; and by this time he had a 
 smile of inward satisfaction on his face. His name was 
 called, and he stood up with a small paper in his hand, 
 and asked leave to read a plea for a mitigation of sen- 
 tence. 
 
 " Well ! " said the Rector.
 
 204 ' ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " ' My offence, as I understand it, sir,' " said Gaston, 
 reading, " ' was giving one of the boys the word pedi- 
 culus, which means lou '" ("No matter what it 
 means," said the Rector, " or say ' small beast of prey.' ") 
 " ' for cuniculus, which means rabbit. Now, with the 
 boys, a rabbit and a hare are the same thing; so, 
 in taking the word pediculus (lous small prey ) 
 for hair, I have only used that figure of speech called 
 Synecdoche, which is 'the taking of a part for the 
 whole.' Most respectfully submitted. Edward Gas- 
 ton.' " 
 
 The Tutor, who had doubtless heard the story of 
 the morning, began to turn over leaves, and to try to 
 smooth his face, so that the School began to smile. 
 When Gaston, being perfectly self-possessed and full 
 of fun, stopped, very meaningly, at the word " hair" and 
 then at " Synecdoche," little Meadows began to titter ; 
 Thompson Walters, a big boy, to giggle ; Hirsett (from 
 sympathy, of course), to snicker ; Brade, however un- 
 pleasant his deeper thoughts might be, could not help 
 smiling ; Blake went down upon his desk in a sort of 
 convulsion. The Tutor gave way moderately, as Gas- 
 ton finished ; little Meadows, Walters, Hirsett, Wilkins, 
 Blake, indiscriminately gave way, and the whole School 
 presently was in a roar, except Towne, who looked 
 indignant. 
 
 The Rector exchanged a few words with the Tutor, 
 and then announced that although Gaston had mistaken 
 a little the ground of his infliction, yet, considering the 
 ingenuity of his plea, the same figure of speech should 
 be applied to the penalty, a part for the whole, 
 leaving him two lines instead of ten. At this a great 
 many congratulatory eyes sought Gaston's, who hand-
 
 FIGHTING THAT WILL DISGUST BRUISERS. 205 
 
 somely acknowledged the indulgence, and sat down 
 very radiant with his success. 
 
 At this point, Brade had apparently made up his 
 mind and held up his hand resolutely ; his request he 
 brought up to the ear of the Rector ; and it was that, 
 as Remsen had to work out lines for tardiness, his own 
 might not be remitted. This was kindly refused. 
 
 Tarleton, whose ears were open to what was pass- 
 ing, fashioned, out of white paper, something which, 
 from its shape and size, might be taken to be a paper- 
 knife, or possibly a white feather, and this he set, for 
 a moment, against his head. It must have been rec- 
 ognized in the school as a conventional symbol of 
 something ; for Hirsett grinned, and Wilkins, as well as 
 others, looked intelligently at it during the moment 
 that it was displayed. 
 
 After denying Brade's request, the Rector, by way 
 of compensation, perhaps, gave him an outlined map 
 of Cisalpine Gaul to make, while Remsen was working 
 out his lines. This the boy did not accept so cheer- 
 fully as might have been expected, and, turning a little 
 slowly away, was just in time to see, as he doubtless 
 did, Tarleton's contemptuous look, and the knowing 
 smiles of some others. He blushed most deeply. 
 
 The afternoon half-hour went by : the free boys were 
 dismissed, and the others set about their expiatory 
 tasks. Brade put himself strongly to his map of Gaul. 
 
 Remsen had the once honored but now discredited 
 old watch on his desk, where many laughed at it ; some 
 of whom, perhaps, had wondered, heretofore. 
 
 Meantime, while, in the somewhat restless hush and 
 awe of the school-room, after school, as in the silent 
 Lower Places of the old Mythology, tasks were
 
 20f> AXTONY DRADE. 
 
 worked out, and fretful shades sought leave, again and 
 again, of the grim Ferryman (here it was Tutor Cor- 
 nell) to cross the boundary-stream, great things were 
 doing, out of doors. 
 
 As soon as school had been let out, Tarleton had begun 
 to grumble near the door, because he and his partners 
 had been accused of stealing another fellow's rabbit. 
 Remsen and Brade, as we have seen, were both in the 
 school-room ; and, of that party of trappers, the only 
 free member was the slight and unpractical Alonzo 
 Peters. This day he was a little late in making his 
 appearance, being among the last boys to come out ; 
 and there already was Tarleton, in a group of two or 
 three who had no play or business more urgent than 
 to stop and listen to him proclaiming his indignation. 
 Tarleton was a heavy fellow for his size, and not pleas- 
 ant-looking ; and the expression and ways of dog or 
 cat, or man, or other beast, provoking fight, do not make 
 him look better. 
 
 Peters came on, with his head in the air, sauntering 
 and abstracted, and was passing by Tarleton and his 
 surrounders, without seeing any thing strange in them, 
 although the by-standers opened out to each side, with 
 their eyes fastened very meaningly on the unsuspecting 
 Peters. 
 
 " They'll have to give us satisfaction," Tarleton was 
 saying. " We ain't to lose our trapping-ground, and 
 then be called a thief for nothing." 
 
 Saying this, he walked away to one of the heaps of 
 autumn-leaves swept up to be carried away, and kicked 
 it asunder. 
 
 " Here's Peters ! " said one of the by-standers. " He's 
 one of 'em, but you don't want "
 
 FIGHTING THAT WILL DISGUST BEUISERS. 207 
 
 " Peters ain't any thing ! " said Tarleton, contemptu- 
 ously. " He wouldn't dare to say his hat was his own ;" 
 and he looked at him with scorn. 
 
 This free use of his name attracted the attention of 
 the abstracted boy, and he stopped. " Why ain't I any 
 thing, Tarleton ? " he asked, in a tone very far from 
 warlike, indeed, in a deprecating and aggrieved 
 voice. 
 
 " You're no fellow to stand up for yourself: if a toad 
 jumped up at you, you'd go over," said Tarleton to the 
 admirer of the institution of chivalry. 
 
 "Well, I don't like toads," said Peters, taking this 
 for a serious accusation, whether it had been so in- 
 tended or not, and half confessing, while excusing it. 
 While he spoke, he resorted to the same pile of leaves, 
 and spread them asunder with his foot. 
 
 " Oh, well ! I mean you're a coward. There's no 
 use talking to you," said Tarleton. 
 
 " No, I ain't a coward," said Peters, holding himself 
 up as awkwardly and absurdly as a dromedary or a 
 giraife. The boys, who were looking on, laughed. 
 
 " I don't believe you'd strike a baby back," said 
 Tarleton. 
 
 "No, that's just what I wouldn't do," said Peters. 
 He was looking very pale, poor fellow ! and yet it's 
 only for his sake, and certainly not for Tarleton's sake, 
 or for our own pleasure, that we write this part of our 
 story. " And I don't approve of bringing people all 
 up, because one says another's wrong : it isn't the right 
 way. But who's done any thing to you, I should like 
 to know ? " 
 
 " I don't like to be called thief, just at this present 
 moment," said Tarleton, walking up to him, with his
 
 208 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 two fists down at his sides, like fighters in drawings, 
 and very likely in real life. 
 
 " I didn't call you a thief," said Peters, drawing back- 
 ward. 
 
 It must be said, for the witnesses of the scene, that 
 they did nothing to help on a fight, or, as it would most 
 likely prove, a flogging for poor Peters. 
 
 " A pretty fellow you are, to be talking about knights, 
 when they were fighting all the time, and you daresn't 
 strike your shadow ! " said Tarleton, as scornfully as 
 Goliath of Gath. 
 
 "I don't want to be swollen up, and all black and 
 blue," answered Peters. " What good does that do ? 
 You know very well it'll all be settled right ; and no- 
 body's hurting you at all." 
 
 " That's the way you like it !" said Tarleton. " You'd 
 better go, and send somebody else. Brade's showing a 
 pretty big white feather : a little piece of it'll do for 
 you." 
 
 " I ain't a bit more afraid'n anybody else, and every- 
 body knows Brade isn't a coward," said the pale, awk- 
 ward fellow : " but I don't see what good fighting'll 
 do." 
 
 " Some of you have got to take back about our being 
 thieves, or else you'll all have to stand up to it. You'd 
 better leave it to somebody else, that ain't a coward," 
 said Tarleton. 
 
 " Oh, no!" said Peters, as pale as possible, and with a 
 dampness on his forehead : " if anybody's got to do it, 
 I may as well as anybody. I'd rather do it than get 
 out of the way, and leave it for anybody, as if I was a 
 coward." The boy, judged by his looks and voice, 
 seemed not very far from tears ; but his speech was as
 
 FIGHTING THAT WILL DISGUST BRUISERS. 209 
 
 stout as if he were master of all arts of attack and 
 defence, and ready to use them the next moment. 
 
 " Well, what you've got to do is just to say you 
 know we didn't steal your rabbit, and you fellows lied;" 
 said Tarleton, laying down pretty hard terms. 
 
 This, of course, Peters, though pale as a sheet, re- 
 fused. Judged by the sight, Alonzo Peters might have 
 been thought a flimsy fellow ; and here he was, a sort 
 of champion for two others. 
 
 " Well, come on then ! " said Tarleton, setting off up 
 the hill. 
 
 Peters went silently along; and the boys, who had 
 already given their time to listen to the preliminary 
 discussion in words, showed great alacrity in giving 
 more of it to the final discussion now proposed with fists. 
 
 " Old Wilson will find you out, and you'll have ' The 
 Cap ' down on you," said one of these attendants, con- 
 solingly, while he walked. 
 
 The two principals (if our flimsily-made and almost 
 feeble-looking friend, Alonzo Peters, could be called a 
 principal) went on in silence, Peters a little behind, 
 but now and then, with his quick, uneven steps, getting 
 on close to Tarleton, and then falling back. Neither 
 Brade nor Remsen appeared, and Peters must meet 
 the occasion. 
 
 The accompanying boys, leaving the two others to 
 keep silence, if they would, talked pretty freely. 
 
 " 'Tain't fair, anyhow, Wadham," said one, whom the 
 reader will recognize by his mouth and ears as Hirsett. 
 " Tarleton's twice as big as Peters any day," a state- 
 ment not literally true, if one judged by the eye, for 
 Peters was the taller, though the other might a good 
 deal outweigh him.
 
 210 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 "But didn't old Pete stick up for himself? I tell 
 you ! " said Wadham, in a sentence of mixed construc- 
 tion. " Who'd ever ha' thought it was in him ? " 
 
 Certainly the ungainly and almost shambling ad- 
 mirer of knights and their doings seemed a very poor 
 match for the closely-knit, square-built fellow, who was 
 leading the way to a convenient field of battle. More- 
 over, while they were speaking, Peters might have been 
 heard saying, " I don't see what good there is in bang- 
 ing and .beating ! " 
 
 There was a large oak standing not far behind the 
 gymnasium, spreading over a broad stretch of what in 
 summer was greensward, and was now brown sod, a 
 favorite lounging-place for the boys during all the time 
 of out-door games. Under this stalwart tree w r as room 
 enough for all the clothing stripped off for base-ball; 
 and in any bright day of colder \veather, when the 
 ground at its foot was fit, it has been still a favorite 
 resort for its summer friends, because it haughtily holds 
 fast its strong leaves against the fury of all winter 
 winds, both damp and dry, and looks like a great 
 shelter, when of its weaker neighbors Dante's simple 
 story has come true, 
 
 " Come d'autunno si levan le foglie, 
 L'una appresso dell' altra, infin che il ramo 
 Rende alia terra tutte le sue spoglie." * 
 
 Most boys care little for natural objects, which only 
 stand still, and can do nothing for them. This tree 
 was nearer than common trees to the Bartholomeang. 
 
 * As by the autumn winds the leaves are lifted, 
 One after other, from the struggling bough, 
 Till to the earth all its green spoils are drifted. 
 
 Inferno, Canto iii.
 
 FIGHTING THAT WILL DISGUST BRUISERS. 211 
 
 " Old Quercus " the boys affectionately called it, out of 
 their books ; and, of course, soon, if not from the out- 
 set, gave to its surname a twist into English pronunci- 
 ation, which made two short words of it, and which led 
 Jake Moody to say that " he'd heard himself called a 
 'queer cuss ' a hundred times; but he didn't know what 
 these boys wanted to go and call that tree so for." 
 Near this fine old forest tree was a little group of three 
 or four evergreens, and straight on toward this Tarle- 
 ton strode, without stopping and without further speech. 
 lie threw off, hastily, his jacket under the tree, as he 
 passed, and went straight on, till he got the little clump 
 of evergreens between him and the West Road, from 
 which, though at a little distance, there was nothing 
 else to hide him. 
 
 " Now," said he, " if the fellow's got the heart of 
 a mouse as big as your thumb, let him show it ! I'm 
 ready for him." 
 
 Peters was not yet ready; for he fumbled at the but- 
 tons of his jacket, and tried, more than once, to get it 
 off before it was unbuttoned. 
 
 " I don't suppose I have got one," he answered to his 
 adversary's challenge ; "but I guess I've got the heart 
 of a boy, as I ought to have." 
 
 I tell you what," said Wadham, " that chap's got 
 grit in him ! Don't get flurried, Peters ! Let me help 
 you;" and he began to unbutton Peters's jacket for 
 him, as the boy's own fingers found it hard to do. 
 
 u I don't want to fight a bit," said this self-offering 
 champion ; " and I don't see any good in it: but I ain't 
 a coward, he'll find that out. I won't run away, and 
 let others take it ; " and he half sobbed as lie spoke, 
 while Tarleton seemed as steady as the old tree itself.
 
 212 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " Now," said Peters, moving up, as soon as he was 
 rid of his coat, to the other, who was waiting for him, 
 " what do you want to fight for ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I don't," said Tarleton, in answer to this last 
 appeal, " I only just want to box a baby's ears ; " and 
 he gave Peters a very solid slap on the side of the head 
 as he spoke. 
 
 Peters staggered, but came back again, facing his 
 antagonist. " Don't do that again ! " he said ; but 
 without making any assault, or even putting himself 
 in a posture of defence. 
 
 Meantime, neither Brade nor Remsen nor any one 
 else came near. 
 
 " No, I won't do that again," said the self-possessed 
 Tarleton. " I'll try this ; " and he struck him on the other 
 side of the head a heavy blow, which sent the victim 
 staggering in the other direction. 
 
 " I told you not to do that ! " sobbed Peters, recover- 
 ing himself, and coming back face to face with the 
 fighter. Then, suddenly straightening himself and 
 throwing back his head, he followed his instinct, 
 rushed forward, and, instead of striking loose, wild 
 blows, flung his long arms round the other boy, who 
 was acting without the least caution and was not at all 
 prepared for any such movement. Immediately, the 
 long arms being locked behind Tarleton's back, held 
 him, like the hug of a cuttle-fish, just above the elbow, 
 so that he could not lift a hand. 
 
 Tarleton, thus unexpectedly seized, made a sudden 
 and violent effort to break out of it, but, tripping back- 
 wards as he did so, fell to the ground, with Peters on 
 top of him. The on-lookers ran up. 
 
 " Don't touch 'em ! " cried Wadham, an injunction
 
 FIGHTING THAT WILL DISGUST BRUISERS. 213 
 
 which neither of the others seemed inclined to violate. 
 " Old Peters will take care of himself." 
 
 On the ground the fighter struggled fiercely ; but 
 the long arms held him fast. " Keep still, now, you'd 
 better ! " said Peters. 
 
 " This ain't fighting ! " cried Tarleton, from below. 
 
 " Why ain't it ? It's my way of fighting," answered 
 Peters, whose hands and arms, between the ground and 
 the other's body, must have been hurt in the struggle. 
 " You fought your way, and I fought my way. I showed 
 you I wasn't afraid." 
 
 " You dai'esn't face me ! " said Tarleton. " Let me up ! " 
 
 Alonzo Peters, howevei*, seemed to know what he 
 was about, and answered with spirit, 
 
 " No, I won't ! I won't let go till my arms come off. 
 I'm facing you now ; " and he set his teeth together, 
 and held on with new strength. The other, being thus 
 grappled, grew more and more indignant and furious 
 to no purpose ; and it may be supposed that, all this 
 time, his hair was tangling with dirt and grass and 
 chips, and his neck sharing in the discomfort. 
 
 " You shall get up when you promise to let us alone," 
 said the upper one, who, if he could only keep his place 
 and keep the other down, was, to all intents, conqueror, 
 and could dictate his own terms. 
 
 Of the three partners, it was Peters who was cham- 
 pion. 
 
 Whether Tarleton's writhings might not, by and by, 
 have changed the condition of things, and brought him 
 to the top, is a question ; but just now there seemed 
 little chance of this, for Peters, with his teeth set, was 
 exerting more will than strength of muscle, so long as 
 he could keep his wits about him. So far, although the
 
 214 ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 two had worked themselves about on the ground a good 
 deal, and had ruffled the grass and disordered their own 
 clothing, it seemed to have been done chiefly at Tarle- 
 ton's cost ; and, so closely had his grappler clung to 
 him, that he was still bound as fast as ever, and was 
 still as flat on the ground. 
 
 At this moment one of the by-standers raised the cry, 
 " There's the Cap ! " and all but the two combatants 
 scattered hastily. 
 
 " Let me up, you coward ! " cried Tarleton. " You 
 want me to be caught," speaking of himself as if he 
 were the only one concerned, as, in his own eyes, per- 
 haps, he was. 
 
 Peters saw things differently. 
 
 "I shall be caught myself, shan't I?" he said. 
 "You take that back, and promise not to insult us, 
 nor meddle with us, and I'll do it." 
 
 Many an abusive and many a sulky answer came 
 from Tarleton first, and one promise ending in " but " 
 At length, as solid steps were heard approaching, the 
 promise was given as the conquering Peters dictated 
 it, and with no reservation. Now Peters relaxed his 
 hold, and the two got up. 
 
 "I'm your witness, Peters," said a strong, young 
 voice ; and Russell, the monitor, appeared, ruddy and 
 tall and muscular. 
 
 " The Caput sent me up," he said. " He saw you two 
 fellows." 
 
 Russell then quietly helped the two to right them- 
 selves, ridding Tarleton's hair of some of its gatherings 
 from the ground, and smoothing Peters. Beginnings 
 of angry words he cut oft' short. 
 
 The conflict was over; and the chief bodily harm
 
 FIGHTING THAT WILL DISGUST BRUISERS. 215 
 
 had been clone to Peters, both of whose cheeks were 
 swollen, and whose hands were a good deal scratched. 
 
 Meanwhile the late on-lookers, scattered just as the 
 contest was very near its end, must have spread abroad 
 their reports of it as they fled ; for now, finding that 
 only Russell, a monitor, and not the Rector, had gone 
 to the scene of the battle, a good many boys some at 
 full speed were making the best of their way to the 
 spot. 
 
 Will Hirsett and Dover, with others, were walking 
 over the scene of the encounter. Not yet were Towne 
 and Wilkins, free from their imprisonment in the school- 
 room, to be found in this gathering, in which they had 
 a nearer interest than most others ; nor were Re in sen. 
 and Brade to be seen. Will Hirsett and Dover were 
 scrutinizing the ground. 
 
 "Here's where old Tarleton tipped right over back- 
 wards," said Hirsett, beginning to do the honors of the 
 place and share his better knowledge with the less for- 
 tunate ; " and, I tell you, if old Peters didn't hang on to 
 him!" he continued, in that style of mixed construction 
 in which boys surpass all their examples in the classics. 
 " Look how they scraped the grass up ! didn't they ? " 
 
 "What was it about?" asked Meadows, who brought 
 to the field the curiosity which animated Old Caspar's 
 little grandchild Wilhelminc about the great Battle of 
 
 o o 
 
 Blenheim. 
 
 " Why, you know," said the young historian of Quer- 
 cus-fight, " Remsen and Brade and old Peters said they 
 lost their rabbit, and Tarleton wanted to fight somebody 
 for callin^ him a thief: and so Peters wouldn't back 
 
 O ' 
 
 out, and he took it for all three of 'em; an' he got old 
 Tarleton down"
 
 216 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " Which beat ? " " Which beat ? " asked several eager 
 voices. " Yes, which beat ? " repeated Meadows, smooth- 
 ing over with his foot some of the ruffled grass, and 
 having his eyes fixed on the two combatants, while he 
 spoke to Hirsett. " Did Peters give in ? " 
 
 " No ! I didn't," answered the undaunted champion 
 for himself ; " ask Russell." 
 
 " He was on top when I came," answered Russell, 
 giving the fact in the form least offensive to the other 
 party. 
 
 " Oh, well ! it wasn't a fair fight : I tripped up," said 
 Tarleton. 
 
 " Peters got the best of it, that time," said Russell ; 
 and Peters's queer eyes proudly sought the recognition 
 of the cluster of boys who surrounded them. 
 
 "It was only chance that I went down. I could 
 flog him, any day : he daresn't try it over again," said 
 the warlike and unsatisfied Tarleton. 
 
 " I never wanted to fight," said Peters, as honestly 
 as before ; "but I wa'n't afraid of bein-g whipped, you 
 found that out. I didn't wait for Remsen and Brade." 
 
 "Hooray for old Peters!" cried Wadham. "The 
 prince of fire-eaters," added Meadows, who, as the reader 
 already knows, had a studious and literary turn, and 
 had doubtless read The Poets. Then the mixed multi- 
 tude (half a dozen or so of the younger-form-boys) 
 took up the completed couplet, in chorus, half-laugh- 
 ing: 
 
 " Hooray for old Peters, 
 The prince of fire-eaters ! " 
 
 And the whole company began to follow from the field 
 the two late combatants, who were walking away, each 
 by himself, but both keeping in company with Russell.
 
 FIGHTING THAT WILL DISGUST BRUISERS. 217 
 
 As the unwelcome song of triumph rose from the 
 boys behind, and urged its quick waves of sound into 
 the ears of the one whom it did not honor, he took it 
 hardly, and repeated his indirect challenge to a renewal 
 of the fight. This time the Monitor took it up. 
 
 " Look here, Tarleton ! " he said : " we've had enough 
 of fighting. It isn't the way of this School : it isn't 
 Christian. If a fellow's got any wrong, it's easy to get 
 it made right without going to fisticuffs about it. Every 
 fellow, except you, has agreed to leave that about the 
 hare or rabbit to two, to find out all about it, and 
 we've been down already seeing to it. What's anybody 
 going to find out, any way, by fighting about a thing?" 
 he concluded. 
 
 Tarleton, without answering, turned as if he had for- 
 gotten something, and went back. 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 WHAT HAPPENED TO REMSEN >S WATCH, AND 
 TARLETON'S EXPERIENCE. 
 
 IF the looking forward to a battle brings with it a 
 crowding of the brain and a clanging in the breast, 
 what a change does victory (especially one almost 
 harmless to both parties) bring ! What a playing about 
 the casing of the heart by the late stormy and turbid 
 tide of blood! What a happy tingling, all over the 
 body, by things hurrying to get back into their old 
 ways ! 
 
 The triumphant throng is half-way down the slope 
 toward the house. 
 
 Here Peters, the awkward hero of the day, suddenly 
 started forward ; for, as they were coming down, they 
 saw in front of them the storm-house-door open, and 
 Remsen and Brade sallying forth. Having hurried a 
 little way forward toward them, Peters then seemed to 
 falter in his purpose, and stopped. 
 
 Remsen was swinging, with one hand, by its long 
 chain, Avhat any eye, almost, in the School could recog- 
 nize alar, the famous time-piece of his forefathers, and 
 apparently threatening to let it go ; but the attention 
 of both Remsen and his companion was soon drawn to 
 the unusual appearance of the little throng which was 
 approaching them. The newly made triumphal song
 
 REMSEN'S WATCH, ETC. 219 
 
 was raised with much vigor by the accompanying chor- 
 isters as the two parties approached each other. 
 
 While Bracle and Remsen questioned, Alonzo Peters, 
 like a modest hero, had withdrawn a little, as if con- 
 scions of having deserved well of them and of the 
 community. The story was told with a little plain web 
 from Russell, and little varied and fanciful bits of warp 
 from members of the chorus. The story, of course, cul- 
 minated in the unexpected but entire success of Peters. 
 
 "How did he get into it ?" asked Remsen, looking at 
 Peters in the new character of a hero in single combat, 
 but taking things in a business-like way. 
 
 Wadham and Hirsett both undertook to answer, as 
 having had a large share in the encounter by looking 
 on at it. 
 
 " That trapping business ; " said one. " He said you 
 three were liars ; " added the other, leaving the subject 
 of his sentence a little hard to define. "He wanted 
 Peters to confess you were liars." 
 
 " What a fool he was, not to wait till we got out ! 
 He might have got an awful licking;" said Remsen, as 
 unsympathizingly critical as if Peters were a thousand 
 miles off in space, and further off in spirit. 
 
 The modest and withdrawing hero was quick to hear 
 this disparaging speech. " I showed I wasn't a coward," 
 lie said: "I stood up for everybody." Having said so 
 much, he began to walk away by himself. Russell 
 looked after him, and said, 
 
 " He's a spunky old fellow, though, Remsen ; and he 
 did it for you." 
 
 "He's a regular old brick!" said Wadham, not so 
 much seeking novelty as fitness in his phrase. "If 
 you'd seen him walk up!'.'
 
 220 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " I think you ought to speak pretty well of him, 
 Rernsen," said Russell. 
 
 " Well," said Remsen, smiling not ill-naturedly, and 
 addressing the younger by-standers, " tell him I think 
 he's as brave as Archimedes or Achilles and Wil- 
 liam Wallace, and Robert Bruce." 
 
 Meadows, laughing at Remsen's " Archimedes," set 
 off to give the message with much alacrity, as if he 
 thought that Peters would enjoy it as much as him- 
 self. 
 
 Now that every thing connected with the late battle 
 had been done with, Russell turned to Remsen, who 
 was still carrying the heirloom swinging by its chain, 
 and said curiously, " Oh, let's see the old watch !" and, 
 as Remsen held it up, Russell remarked upon the carv- 
 ings and lettering of its face, turning the long-time 
 implement round. " What does t^ayoQSvoazs (exagor- 
 eusate) mean ? " he asked, reading the very word, most 
 likely, which Mr. Don had carefully copied. 
 
 " My-grandfather told me," said Remsen, " it was out 
 of the Bible, and meant ' redeeming,' or something." 
 
 " Ho ! " said Will Hirsett, who, though young in 
 years, was already a little advanced in his acquaintance 
 with Language, "twig the old turnip!" and he, too, 
 stared with aU his eyes. 
 
 . Others came up, and there was quite a gathering 
 about the venerable relic. 
 
 " Who wants to buy ? " asked the owner. " This old 
 thing got me kept in to-day." 
 
 He did not add what very likely had touched him 
 more than any thing, that the old thing had become a 
 laughing-stock, that day. 
 
 A timid voice from Meadows, already back at the
 
 REMSEN'S WATCH, ETC. 221 
 
 outskirts, asked what the owner would take for it. 
 Many curious eyes gazed upon the small mass of ma- 
 chinery, incased in glass and silver, which had timed, 
 most likely, many a meal, and possibly some lovers' 
 meetings ; had been held to the delighted ear of many 
 a toddler, and allowed to go to his mouth without fear 
 of its getting into his throat. 
 
 " Ain't it a buster ? " asked Will Hirsett, keeping 
 safely outside of any competition or curious questioning 
 about its market-worth, perhaps because he had no 
 money, perhaps because he had no faith in Remsen's 
 intention of selling his heirloom. 
 
 "Will you sell it?" asked Meadows. 
 
 " No ! " said Remsen.. " Here goes ! " And, in spite of 
 several outcries, such as "I wouldn't," from Russell, 
 and "Oh, don't!" "Give it to a fellow!" "Give it to 
 me ! " from younger boys, he whirled it out of his hand, 
 and it struck with a thud, and a rattle or jingle, on the 
 bank near the gymnasium. 
 
 " Oh, too bad ! wasn't it ? " said Meadows and others ; 
 and a race began toward the spot where the long- 
 valued, but just now dishonored, relic had fallen. 
 
 " Let it alone ! " said Remsen ; and all but little 
 Meadows stopped short of the place. He went up to 
 it, and took a good look at it, as it lay. 
 
 "Shall I take it, and get it mended?" asked Mead- 
 ows ; but the owner said, " No ! " without giving any 
 explanation of his unwillingness to have any one else 
 own what he himself was willing to throw away. 
 
 Such things indeed, most things make only a 
 short-lived impression upon boys, even as upon men. 
 The by-standers began to disperse, remarking Remsen's 
 queer way of treating his watch : " If he didn't care
 
 222 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 any more for it than to fling it away, why shouldn't he 
 let another fellow have it, that would take care of it ? " 
 
 " I shouldn't think Brade would let him," said Hir- 
 sett, " because he liked it so." 
 
 " Where is Brade ? " asked Wadham. " He isn't 
 there. lie was there." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I saw him there," said Meadows. 
 
 But when they looked, with all their eyes, he was 
 not there. 
 
 Before this time the famous Peters had come back, 
 looking now contented and restored to every-day life; 
 and the knot of boys, considerate (like men) of the 
 lustre that was fresh on him just now, stopped to give 
 him an account of the treatment of the historic time- 
 piece, and pointed to the spot where it was lying. 
 Thereupon Peters, with his head in the air, walked 
 slowly up to the borders of the little knot, which still 
 stood, of that which had been gathered about Russell 
 and Remsen and the watch, and there stood looking 
 first over toward the rejected heirloom, and then tow- 
 ard the doer of the strange deed, as if to establish 
 some fanciful explanation between them. 
 
 When Brade appeared presently, coming from the 
 direction of the gymnasium, Peters ran to him, with 
 much alacrity, and gave him, volubly, such information 
 as he himself had gained. 
 
 Remsen, who heard it, laughed at Peters's manner, or 
 at what he said, but did not interfere ; and Brade, who 
 could hardly forget with what pride and confidence, no 
 longer ago than that morning, he had borne the long- 
 descended relic in his pocket, ran to the spot, with 
 Peters following, while Remsen and Russell walked 
 leisurely up to join them.
 
 REMSEN' S WATCH, ETC. 223 
 
 Brade looked at it, for a moment, as it lay in the 
 broAvn turf, on its back, like a stranded Gnllipagos 
 turtle, with his upper shell knocked in. He kneeled 
 and put his ear to it, and proclaimed that it was " all 
 going;" for the stout old thing had kept its honest 
 " works " together, and with a steady ticking was do- 
 ing its best to bear up. He took it tenderly in hand, 
 and looked it over carefully, and put it carefully in his 
 pocket. 
 
 If Remsen had been inclined to say any thing about 
 this disposition of the watch, something even more 
 pressing called his attention. 
 
 "What's happened to you, Bradey?"he asked of 
 his friend, who was hot and flushed, and looking as 
 if he might have fallen in the gymnasium. " You're 
 hurt, man ! How did you do it?" 
 
 " Oh, it isn't any thing. It doesn't hurt : it's only 
 a little scratch," said Brade. " Does it show much ? " 
 And, putting his hand to his face, he examined it as if 
 to see whether any blood had come away. 
 
 " What ails Tarleton ? " Russell asked, while Remsen 
 was occupied ; for Tarleton might be seen coming 
 down also, but walking fast over toward the kitchen 
 part of the house, and holding a handkerchief over 
 his face. 
 
 Boys' lives have a great many happenings ; for boys 
 are almost always trying at one or other of all the laws 
 of the universe, and practising with one or more of the 
 great elements of things. So they are never surprised 
 at what happens to each other. 
 
 Russell walked away to meet or overtake Tarleton, 
 and the others took the same direction, at different 
 rates of speed. The by-standers (for we still have a
 
 224 ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 part of our chorus with us) went fast, of course, to be 
 first on the spot. The principals as Remsen and 
 Brade, and (for the present, at least) Peters followed 
 more slowly. 
 
 Tarleton had stopped at a pump which stood near 
 one of the doors, and was washing his face. 
 
 " Let me see, a minute, will you ? " said Russell, 
 kindly, coming up and putting his hand under the 
 boy's forehead, and lifting up his face. The poor fel- 
 low, what with one or more black eyes, and a nose out 
 of shape, and lips all swollen, and a general smearing 
 of blood, was, certainly, a very sorry sight to see, and 
 our " chorus " looked at him in wonder, and then pro- 
 ceeded to do as Quintus Horatius Flaccus advises all 
 right-minded choruses to do : they began to pity the 
 wretched, and to speculate about the case. 
 
 " He's got a bad face, hasn't he ? " said Meadows. 
 " Did Peters do all that to him ? " 
 
 "No, I don't believe," said the conquering Peters, 
 " I hurt him so much as that : I didn't mean to. I don't 
 believe I did. Oh, no ! I'm almost sure I never did. 
 It almost makes me sick." 
 
 The bruised and disfigured object of their pity here 
 uttered himself, but very obscurely, because the gates 
 of his speech would not open very readily ; but he 
 seemed to say, turning to these speakers, " Do clear 
 out!" or "You clear out! will you?" an injunction 
 with which they partly complied, by withdrawing into 
 themselves, and keeping silence. 
 
 " I'll get something for you," said Russell. " Don't 
 wash any thing except just the blood ; " and, after a 
 moment's disappearance, came back with Mr. Stout, 
 who brought in his hand a piece of raw beef.
 
 SEMSEN'S WATCH, ETC. 225 
 
 "Fell right against two fists, I suppose, and hit, 
 just on his face. This had ought to be goose-skin 
 or ass-hide, by good rights," said the head man, not 
 unkindly; and some of the boys, accustomed to his 
 style of satire, laughed. He added, gravely : " but 
 this'll have to do : it's the best I've got." 
 
 How Tarleton came to this condition our faithful 
 chorus of intelligent by-standers have not settled, and 
 are still discussing, with many looks at Brade. 
 
 Russell, turning for a moment from his attendance, 
 took up the public expectation by announcing the 
 Referees' report, immediately ; then wrapped the meat 
 in a handkerchief, and led off the disfigured Tarleton 
 to the house. 
 
 Mr. Stout made this reflection : 
 
 " The strangest piece of the business is, that where 
 there's one chap that's met with an accident like that, 
 there's always another, close by, that's just like him, 
 and mebbe more so, and perhaps neither one of 'em 
 can tell how they got it." 
 
 He had not scrutinized the group of boys, to see 
 whether this general principle would apply to any of 
 them, but, without looking, he said, 
 
 " I see Brade has had a little tumble, too. I suppose 
 there's been some blowing. High winds are apt to 
 bring a good many things down." 
 
 Saying this, Mr. Stout took his wheelbarrow and 
 rake, which were close at hand, and went about gather- 
 ing his fallen leaves, of which one pile, at least, we know 
 to have been disturbed during the wor6y encounter of 
 Tarleton and Peters. 
 
 " Here come the Monitors ! " said thfo bfuvd, as Rus- 
 10* o
 
 226 ANTONY EEADE. 
 
 sell and Lamson drew near, followed by Towne. And 
 now all was expectation. 
 
 " Fellows ! " said Russell, " I see all but Tarleton are 
 here " 
 
 " If he hadn't been a fool, he'd have been here, too," 
 said Towne. 
 
 Russell went on : " We've been to the ground. Jake 
 Moody had taken his dinner down, and been there all 
 day. We found Remsen and Brade's track down and 
 back from the fence, Jake showed it. Then there 
 was one down by their snare, where Rainor says he 
 came, and a track just like it from there to Tarleton's 
 trap, and none the other way. Rainoi - 's gone away. 
 We think none of the fellows ever went to any trap 
 but their own ; but probably Rainor knows about it, if 
 any one." 
 
 " I didn't believe they ever did ! " said Brade, giving 
 his hand to Towne, who shook it heartily. Remsen 
 assented, without shaking hands. 
 
 No one could make out why Rainor should have put 
 one party's hare into the other party's trap ; but every- 
 body reserved his judgment. 
 
 The crowd dispersed, Brade loitering near Rus- 
 sell, and soon these two had a clear place to them- 
 selves, with no one in sight except Mr. Stout ; and he 
 was a little way off.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE CAPUT MEETS BEADS. 
 
 the two boys found themselves alone, as they 
 were left in the last chapter, Russell turned to Brade, 
 and asked : 
 
 " Did you do that to Tarleton ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and I feel ashamed of pounding into a fellow; 
 only then I couldn't help it," said Brade, apologetically. 
 " He called me all sorts of names, and abused us all, 
 and said he'd whip Peters or any of us he could get 
 hold of; and at last I had to tell him to let Peters 
 alone, and he might fight me. But he took hold of 
 Peters, you know ; and when I went up there, he came 
 at me in an awful way. He gave me this knock before 
 I stirred. I had to hit him ; and I'm sure I did not 
 give him more than half a dozen licks before he gave 
 out, and said I ' didn't let him have a chance.' " 
 
 " Well, it'll do him good, perhaps. It's his own 
 fault," said Russell. 
 
 A new voice spoke : 
 
 " Tarleton's got a pretty hard way o' gettin' a false 
 face," * said Mr. Stout, who, following his rake, had 
 come near them before they were aware, but who said 
 his say, as if not at all connected with their conversa- 
 tion. " It wouldn't cost much money to buy one, at a 
 
 * Mask.
 
 228 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 store ; and I guess he'd be just as well satisfied, and it 
 would do him just as much good." And Mr. Stout 
 moved on at his work. 
 
 " Now, what do you think about it, Russell ? I didn't 
 want to fight," said Brade, seriously. 
 
 " Oh ! I think he won't show it much in the course 
 of an hour or two," said Russell, " and it will do him 
 good." 
 
 " But it isn't like a Christian to fight," said Brade. 
 "I know that, very well ; and I wanted to be fit to be 
 confirmed ! But can you help it, always ? " Here, 
 after a pause, he shook his head, and added : " you 
 can't, can you ? " 
 
 He was evidently appealing as to an older and wiser 
 Christian than himself. 
 
 " I don't suppose you can always keep out of it," Rus- 
 sell answered. " It isn't Christian to be quarrelsome, 
 or to abuse another fellow, or to be a tyrant; but you 
 may get into it by taking another fellow's part, or you 
 may have to defend yourself; and, if you don't want 
 to, or only do it in self-defence, why I suppose it'll be 
 looked over, and if you're sorry for it," lie added, as 
 if he had forgotten a part of his argument. "You 
 know it's the heart, Brade : it mustn't be in your 
 heart." 
 
 " I'm sure it isn't in my heai't," Antony said, de- 
 cisively ; " that I'm sure : it isn't in my heart." 
 
 " You get a chance and go and ask the Caput. You 
 can talk to him as easily as you can to me," said his 
 adviser. 
 
 " But I couldn't tell him about Tarleton ? " 
 
 " He wouldn't ask you about any boy ; but he'll gc 
 into it, and he'll tell you every thing."
 
 THE GAPUT MEETS BRADE. 229 
 
 There was a short silence after these words, while 
 Brade stood thinking. Then he said, " I'll try," and 
 they parted. 
 
 Opportunities, in this world, often come rery timely 
 to our wants ; and so Brade found it now. He had 
 scarcely walked a dozen steps, after leaving Russell, 
 before the Rector of the School came suddenly upon 
 him, and called him by name, as he was slowly walking 
 and thinking. 
 
 " Let's go on together," said the Rector. 
 
 So here was a chance for the boy. 
 
 " Well, Antony, school-life seems to agree with you 
 pretty well. Was it Remsen's family-watch that made 
 the mistake about time, this morning? The hands 
 were caught together? Old fellows (or young fel- 
 lows) mustn't fold their hands in the midst of things, 
 at any rate, if they do, people must look to other 
 guides. But, if that's the only fault, it'll be easily set 
 right, in the watch. I suppose trapping, just now, 
 doesn't leave time for the ' Notes on Cffisar ' ? " 
 
 " I found the men's notes were better," answered the 
 boy, with a pleasant laugh, " and so I stopped." 
 
 "Well, that's just honest modesty. I suppose the 
 men's notes were better, no doubt. Yours were very 
 good practice, though," said the Rector. " I'd keep on 
 making notes upon things as they come, in lessons, and 
 reading, and any thing. Sometimes even boys strike 
 out something good ; and, at any rate, they learn to 
 handle things for themselves." 
 
 " I always keep a sort of a note-book," said Antony, 
 modestly. 
 
 " So do ; and tell me about your notes, sometimes," 
 said the Caput, " will you ? "
 
 '230 AX TONY DRADE. 
 
 They had turned the corner of the gymnasium, and 
 had passed " Quercus," and were now on the field of 
 the late conflicts. The spot must have urged upon 
 Tarleton's unwilling antagonist the question that he 
 was longing to ask. 
 
 o o 
 
 As they crossed the ground on which Peters had won 
 his unbloody laurels, and on which Tarleton had been 
 a second time worsted, not without blood, the Rector's 
 foot slipped on the damp earth. He probably had not 
 forgotten that the fighting of an hour or two before, 
 had been done here, and was not speaking altogether 
 at random, when he said, 
 
 " You haven't read, yet, about Kisus slipping in the 
 gore ? " 
 
 It was too dark to have seen any thing, unless very 
 showy ; and if Brade had thought of it, for an instant, 
 he might have felt sure that any slight blood drawn in 
 his encounter with Tarleton would hardly have fallen 
 to the ground at all, or, if it had reached the sod, 
 would have kept no place upon it ; but his voice shook 
 a little, as he answered hastily, 
 
 " I've heard the Fourth read it, sir, about the boxers. 
 It was pretty brutal, wasn't it?" 
 
 " Oh ! Nisus wasn't one of the fighters : he was 
 running a race, and slipped in the blood of a victim. 
 That fighting was pretty horrible and disgusting 
 work." 
 
 Now was Antony's chance, and he used it. 
 
 " If that had been now, sir, those fighters couldn't 
 have been Christians ? " he asked ; and while he asked 
 turned his face over towards the horizon, as if the 
 answer did not concern him much. 
 
 " I think not," said the Rector. " We excuse wars,
 
 THE CAPUT MEETS BRADE. 231 
 
 because nations make their people go into them : they 
 ought to have been done away with eighteen hundred 
 years ago. Mangling and slaughtering honest husbands 
 and sons is too wickedly foolish to think of, quietly. 
 Fighting, for the love of it, or for anger, or for mastery, 
 is brute's work. If you see a beast attack a person, 
 you may fight him ; if you see a ruffian attack a per- 
 son, he's no better; if a ruffian attacks you, you may 
 knock him off." 
 
 " That's all I did," said Brade, without thinking, his 
 spirits rose so suddenly. The Rector did not show any 
 consciousness of the slip. 
 
 " I should like to be confirmed, sir," said Antony, 
 with a steady voice, " if you think I'm fit," and so 
 brought his timid desire to a head, at once. 
 
 To those who serve at heavenly altars ; to those who 
 are, by ordination or occasion, ambassadors for Christ 
 to souls of others; to those who love God, or believe in 
 God ; to those who have any awe for God's breath of 
 life in the young, a call like this is both holy and touch- 
 ing. It is the seeking of the soul, already, Avhen blind 
 and helpless, blessed and gifted by its Maker and Re- 
 deemer, to come consciously into communion with Him. 
 The moments in which this vital work is going on are 
 moments of trembling precaution and hope, and wait- 
 ing, until the soul, still very new to our manhood, has 
 laid hold, and steadied itself, and is walking in the 
 Spirit. 
 
 " Of course, Antony, if you have the right under- 
 standing and feeling about it, it's just what you ought 
 to desire, of all things," said his spiritual pastor. 
 " Let's have a very high notion of it. The Christian 
 life is the living in the Spirit, instead of the flesh ; and
 
 232 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 ' the Spirit ' is the Holy Spirit. You were taken into 
 God's family before you knew any thing, and now 
 you're to declare openly being old enough to know 
 that you choose God's life, of yourself, and want to 
 live in it for ever. That's what you're doing, my young 
 brother ; and the Spirit takes part in it, and His part 
 He'll do." 
 
 " That's just what I want to do, whatever is to be 
 done," said Brade, simply. " God will have to help 
 me, I know ; and He will do that, of course. He helps 
 everybody." 
 
 " Of course He will. It's only through the Spirit 
 that we can live that life ; and He dwells in the Church, 
 for ever, to be with those that are living that life. 
 Jesus, our Lord, is that Life, and the Raising-up from 
 the Dead ; and it's the Spirit that enables us to partake 
 of Christ, in worship, and in self-denial, and in kind 
 doings, and in the great commemorative sacrifice of the 
 Lord's Supper. ' He that eateth rny flesh and drink- 
 eth my blood hath everlasting life, and I will raise 
 him up at the Last Day.' All that's as high as it 
 can be." 
 
 " And what'll I have to do ? " asked Brade, as simply 
 as before. 
 
 " What great thing, to match this great thing ? " said 
 t.*ic Rector, smiling, as one might judge from his voice. 
 " Just what the Catechism teaches about Baptism, that 
 Confirmation follows : ' Repentance, whereby we for- 
 sake sin, and Faith, whereby we steadfastly believe the 
 pi-omises of God ; ' and the Spirit Avorks these in us ; 
 and we must pray to get the Spirit ; and it is He that 
 teaches us to pray. You see that, the moment wo 
 begin, He does it for us by making us do it."
 
 THE CAPUT MEETS BRADE. 233 
 
 They had been drawing nearer, in the dusk, to the 
 noise of the play-ground, though they had walked 
 slowly. The rush of the tireless foot-ball kickers could 
 be seen, as well as heard, through the murk. The 
 Rector changed the subject of the conversation. 
 
 "We haven't had any more of the distinguished 
 stranger f " he said. 
 
 Brade laughed, as he answered, " No, sir. The boys 
 made plenty of talk out of that." 
 
 " Well, we've got great times coming, Mrs. WV1- 
 ham's party and Benefactors' Day. Every invited boy, 
 with a good record, shall go to Mrs. Wadham's." 
 
 Then, sending the boy off happy to his fellows, the 
 Rector kept on in his walk.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE RECTOR OF THE PARISH AND ONE OF 
 HIS PEOPLE. 
 
 IN the middle of one of the afternoons a beautiful 
 afternoon there was driving slowly down what is 
 called West Road one who, if judged by his appointments 
 of dress and horse and buggy, and his way of saluting 
 and being saluted by a neighbor or two, felt himself to 
 be, and doubtless was, a noted man of Eastham. In 
 short, it was no other than Mr. Thomas Parmeuter. 
 
 As he was just coming to the turn by the wood from 
 which we see out over the valley to the hills and the 
 one mountain-top beyond the Gap, a gentleman bounded 
 over the rail-fence at that place to the bank above the 
 road, startling the horse, and bringing him to a stand- 
 still. This gentleman was tall, large, a little solid 
 and heavy, perhaps, but strong and healthy, as his 
 action and figure and cheek and eye all showed. His 
 dress was that of a clergyman, ending in good thick- 
 soled shoes, now pretty dusty. 
 
 If both parties had timed the meeting, they could not 
 have met more exactly; but the walker apparently had 
 his thoughts upon the landscape ; for, in coming over 
 the fence, he turned toward the open West, and it was 
 only after a steadfast look to the hills and sky that he 
 became aware of horse-hoofs and wheels, and the man's 
 voice ; then, turning to the driver, whose horse seemed
 
 RECTOR OF THE PARISH, ETC. 235 
 
 to be recovering himself from a short fright, but was now 
 only backing on his legs, and starting with pricked-up 
 ears and moving nostril, saluted him cheerily and apolo- 
 getically : 
 
 " Oh ! Pardon ! How are you, sir ? " he said, lifting 
 by the rim a soft felt hat, and showing d,ark, auburn, 
 curling hair. Do you see that atmosphere ? (I wish 
 we had a good English word.) It's happiness to breathe 
 it, isn't it? And only look at those hills! as if they 
 were just standing still to enjoy themselves! That's 
 for my little cripple, Billy Carnes " (showing his coat- 
 pocket full of what, from shape and sound, might be 
 supposed to be nuts), "and this" (opening the breast 
 of his coat, and showing fern-leaves) " is for poor Mrs. 
 Rainor." 
 
 Whatever might be the reason, there was no corre- 
 sponding flow of kindliness from the other party to the 
 meeting, who was pretty evidently in a graver humor; 
 nor had his blood been wholesomely stirred up and 
 warmed like the parson's. After exchanging salutations, 
 he had listened patiently while the clergyman uttered 
 his cheery speech, assenting with " Very fine, sir," 
 to that part about the landscape ; and, when it was 
 done, said, smiling rather ironically, " You're quite 
 an athlete, sir (I believe that's the word). I don't 
 know what our friend Mrs. Weatherbee would say to 
 such agility. She's a candidate for Confirmation, I 
 believe ? " 
 
 "How do you mean: 'What would she think?" 
 asked the clergyman; then added, good-naturedly, "You 
 mean, How would she like to do it herself? I can 
 easily conceive of her objecting." 
 
 The other explained himself:
 
 236 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " I didn't know whether, with her habits, she might 
 consider the Rector altogether clerical." 
 
 " What ! " asked the active parson, with look and 
 tone of amused astonishment. " Pooh ! " 
 
 "She's been brought up an Orthodox,* you know," 
 answered the driver. Then, after a preparatory smile, 
 he said, " I believe she thinks Mr. Manson's sermons are 
 so short she can't make head or tail of 'em. She's 
 more critical, perhaps, than old Church people." 
 
 " Mr. Manson must look out," answered the Rector 
 again, good-naturedly ; " but I think Mrs. Weatherbee 
 and I'll get along pretty well together." 
 
 The parishioner had not yet said all that he had in 
 his mind. 
 
 " The Church Post is quite satirical, in its last num- 
 ber, I'm told," he said, touching his horse with the 
 snapper of his whip ; making him start, and then holding 
 him in. " You know, of course, better than I can tell 
 you. You know every thing that comes out in it, I 
 suppose. That's the understanding, I believe." 
 
 " Of course, I'm supposed to, and bound to, and do, 
 generally," said Mr. Manson. 
 
 Mr. Parmenter continued : 
 
 " The article I refer to is upon influential laymen. 
 I believe. The title is not very elegant, ' Lay-popes 
 and Nincom-popes,' or some such word, though not 
 very choice language, I should think. Perhaps you've 
 read it, sir ? " 
 
 " Certainly," answered Mr. Manson, smiling. 
 
 " I should think it might be somewhat unwise to 
 assail the great lay-body, which supports the Church, 
 
 * In New England, " Orthodox " means Trinitarian Congre- 
 gationalist.
 
 EEGTOR OF THE PARISH, ETC. 237 
 
 and furnishes the means for all its work, and all its 
 growth," said the objector. 
 
 "I should think so, too," Mr. Manson answered, still 
 smiling. 
 
 " Laymen don't like to be called asses ; and the great 
 business-men of the country consider themselves as 
 having some judgment, and being fit to exercise some 
 influence." 
 
 " To be sure," said Mr. Manson ; " but you don't 
 object to asses being called asses? and you don't object 
 to silly actions being treated as silly, do you ? I don't 
 know what a paper would be worth, that could not tell 
 the truth ? " 
 
 " Then I understand you to approve the sentiments 
 of that article ? " 
 
 " I wrote it," said the hearty priest, laughing ; " but, 
 Mr. Parmenter, let's understand one another: attacking 
 abuses or Avrongs isn't attacking the laity, it isn't at- 
 tacking persons at all. Only, if you fired at offences 
 that nobody was doing, you'd waste ammunition. 
 Sometimes a man's so close to a thing that he gets 
 hit with it, to be sure : that can't be helped, and there's 
 no reason to be sorry for it. It'll do 'em good." 
 
 " Sometimes no pains are taken to make distinctions 
 Avhere laymen are using a legitimate influence," said 
 Mr. Parmenter, " and the public are apt to look upon it 
 as a personal attack." 
 
 " But you speak as if you'd been hurt : you don't feel 
 personally aggrieved, do you ? " asked the cheery Rec- 
 tor-and-Editor, upon whom Mr. Parmenter's steady 
 gravity and tone of grievance began to make im- 
 pression. 
 
 " I can scarcely suppose that the Rector of this parish
 
 238 ANTONY BBADE. 
 
 would make an attack on me" said Mr. Parmcnter, with 
 dignity. " The parish would all take it home to them- 
 selves, if the attack was made, as one man." 
 
 The cheery priest easily recovered his equanimity. 
 Here he laughed, as he answered, in a jesting 
 tone, 
 
 " There is only about one man of them, altogether, 
 to ' take it home.' " Then, with a good-natured attempt 
 to overcome Mr. Parmenter's gravity, he added, in the 
 same strain, 
 
 " Happily our constituency isn't very large, count- 
 ing the six men that don't yet come to church, with the 
 two that have begun to." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter seemed to be in no humor for jests 
 upon so serious a subject. He answered : 
 
 " That's rather a strong way of putting it, I think. 
 Our parish is growing: the soil is uncongenial, but the 
 growth is steady. I don't know what the result of the 
 last year or two has been ; but it was counted a very 
 respectable parish when it was put into your hands. 
 A parish that contributed, if I recollect rightly, last 
 year, one hundred and eighty-seven dollars and over 
 forty-three cents, I think to diocesan missions, isn't 
 insignificant, I should say." 
 
 This answer seemed to be dictated by a wish to show 
 that the parish was doing as well as could be expected ; 
 that possibly it might do better ; and, if so, better work 
 was needed from the Rector. 
 
 " Oh, no ! I was only in fun," said Mr. Manson. " jPve 
 brought in a family or two, thank God ! If we had an 
 enrolment of bona-fide names, I fancy we could make 
 the beginning of a list. But let me tell you about that 
 article on nincompoops. It was made upon communi-
 
 SECTOR OF THE PARISH, ETC. 239 
 
 cations from half a dozen different places, and not out 
 of my own hand at all." 
 
 " You seem to have made it your own, pretty well," 
 said Mr. Parmenter ; then added : " That is, I judge so, 
 from what I hear." 
 
 " Certainly I went against the abuses full tilt, as 
 usual." 
 
 " So I suppose," said the other, with grave civility. 
 " Are you going my way, sir ? " Mr. Parmenter con- 
 tinued, drawing up his reins before starting. 
 
 "Thank you, no," said Mr. Manson, jumping from the 
 over-hanging gravel-bank as he spoke ; but taking care, 
 this time, to alight behind the carriage. 
 
 So, with mutual salutations, the Rector and his " in- 
 fluential layman " separated ; Mr. Parmenter rumbling 
 rapidly away, and raising a dust as he went.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A YOUNG REPROBATE. 
 
 THE Rectoi'-editor followed, for some distance, the 
 same road with the buggy, which soon went out of 
 sight. Before long, unmindful of Mrs. Weatherbee 
 arid of Mr. Parmenter, he crossed the bars by a leap, as 
 before, into a pasture where a dozen or more of fine 
 cows were feeding. 
 
 As he walked, with a quick, steady step, across the 
 field, turning his head from side to side to look it all 
 over, a figure of a boy rose from behind one of the 
 cows, a good way in front of him, and, turning away, 
 walked, as steadily as he, down toward the wood, in 
 the hollow. Mr. Manson did not quicken his pace ; 
 but he called after the boy by Christian and sur- 
 name. 
 
 " Philip ! Philip ! Rainor ! " he shouted, not with 
 much effort, but still loudly enough to be heard by any 
 intelligent ears. The call was altogether unheeded : 
 the boy neither quickened nor slackened his steps, but 
 walked straight on. The gentleman, smiling, with a 
 shake of the head, walked steadily after him. 
 
 At the rate at which the two were going, the distance 
 between would never have been shortened ; but the boy 
 scarcely entered the wood, and, passing behind two or
 
 A TOUNO EEPROBATE. 241 
 
 three of the outermost trees, was seen immediately 
 coming back, not exactly over the same ground aa 
 in going down, but aslant ; and now it might be seen 
 that he was carrying a book, which he seemed to be 
 closely reading, in such a way that his voice was heard, 
 now and then, through the still air of the afternoon, 
 as also was seen the emphatic accompaniment of his 
 hand as he read. 
 
 The clergyman smiled at this exhibition, and said 
 aloud, so that he might have been heard a good way 
 off, "Urn!" then turned a little from his own course, 
 so as to bring the two paths together. As they drew 
 near, the boy, at the sound of footsteps, looked up from 
 his book, and, like one that had been taught manners, 
 bowed his head, and said, " A good evening, sir ! " 
 
 Our readers will remember this boy's encounter with 
 Brade and Remsen, on one bright memorable morning. 
 He was a shabby lad, with ragged clothes and shoes, 
 and a sun-burnt cap hanging at the back of his head, 
 with the visor half-ripped off. His face was pale, sur- 
 rounded by straight, light-colored hair, and opened by 
 watery, bluish eyes, and a watering wide mouth, partly 
 open, showing large teeth. 
 
 This was the boy whom the reader has already met, 
 in the matter of the traps. , 
 
 Mr. Manson returned a kindly greeting, and, as he 
 spoke, held out, in such a way as to be readily seen by 
 the other, a squared, even, and apparently unbroken 
 package of paper " currency," from which an outside 
 paper-wrapper was turned back. 
 
 A change flitted over the boy's flabby face, and, by a 
 sort of instinctive motion, he put his free hand to his 
 trousers' pocket, while he fastened his eyes upon the 
 11 f
 
 242 ANTONY DRADE. 
 
 package of currency. The pocket seemed to be a 
 pretty full one. 
 
 " I want to have a little talk with you, Philip," said 
 the clergyman. 
 
 " I've got to drive Mr. Bancroft's cows home," an- 
 swered the boy, but standing still, with his eyes upon 
 the package, and with a very wakeful look. 
 
 " Would you rather meet me by-and-by, or stop 
 now ? " asked Mr. Manson. 
 
 " Well," said the lad, " I dono's I care about doin' ary 
 one of 'em." 
 
 The healthy-looking man who was talking with him 
 seemed in no way surprised or disconcerted by his un- 
 gracious tone, and answered gravely and decidedly, 
 
 " But I must have a talk with you ; and, as it wants 
 some time of sunset, perhaps I may as well do it now." 
 
 The boy answered in a surly way, "I dono's the's 
 any ' must ' about it ; " but he stood still, nevertheless, 
 and, with stealthy glances at the parcel of currency, 
 proceeded, deliberately, to put a grass-stalk into his 
 open book. Then reading aloud, " Page forty-eight : 
 ' and that was the last of him,' " he shut the book, and 
 put it away into a jacket-pocket. Another grass-stalk 
 he put into his mouth, and chewed diligently. 
 
 " You and I may differ very much in our ways of 
 looking at things," said the clergyman, with a large and 
 confident kindliness, which seemed to take for granted 
 that he could interest the boy ; " but I'll tell you what 
 I go upon : I'm sent out with a message to anybody 
 that's going wrong, to try to bring him right." 
 
 " You can preach that in church, can't ye ? " asked 
 the boy, looking away : " I don't belong to your church, 
 nor yet no other church."
 
 A YOUNQ REPROBATE. 243 
 
 "That's just one part of it," said Mr. Hanson ; "but 
 I've got just as much to say in a sitting-room, or in this 
 field. You needn't hear, if you don't choose to ; but 
 that doesn't make any difference to me about my duty." 
 
 " Don't it make some odds if I don't choose to hear 
 ye ? " asked Phil Rainor, but yet without moving to 
 go away. 
 
 " I'll try it," said the other, still holding the package 
 before him : " I want to help you to be a good boy." 
 
 " S'pose I want to be such a kind of a boy 's I please, 
 hain't I got a right?" asked the young good-for- 
 nothing, pulling and chewing a second grass-stalk or 
 two, witli much seeming indifference. 
 
 " If you mean whether I can tie you up, and " 
 
 The boy interrupted : 
 
 "I guess you'd hev' to ketch me fust, f one thing," 
 said he, shying "to one side, to show how he would 
 escape, if an attempt were made. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; that I shan't try to do : all I want is a 
 very few words," said Mr. Manson, waiting and giving 
 him time ; and, after hearing him, going on, quietly and 
 patiently, " There's a right and a wrong." 
 
 " Who says so ? " asked Rainor, who seemed likely 
 to permit no common ground to be established between 
 them, even upon truisms which had been accepted ever 
 since the world began. 
 
 The moralist allowed time for this interruption, 
 though he took no notice of the question, but re- 
 peated : 
 
 " There's a right and a wrong," making a good pause. 
 "A man that does right goes on well." 
 
 " Yes, Jim Fiske, that made so much of other folks' 
 money," said the boy.
 
 244 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " He was murdered by another man as bad as him- 
 self," answered the clergyman. 
 
 " Wall, Stokes, then, that murdered him," said the 
 young vagabond, readily, but not looking at the re- 
 spectable and kindly person, who was listening with 
 all patience, and who now answered, 
 
 " So far he hasn't gained, and he hasn't got through 
 yet. Well, now it's you that I want." 
 
 " You shall hev' me if ye can get me," said the boy. 
 
 " So I suppose ; and that's just what I expect to do. 
 Now, Rainor, did you ever feel ashamed or sorry for 
 any thing that you'd done ? " asked the moralist, begin- 
 ning from a new position a direct assault upon this 
 thoroughly entrenched young outlaw. 
 
 " I douo but what I have. Pooty sure I must 
 have, when it didn't turn out the way I wanted it 
 to," Rainor answered, promptly, from his (imaginary) 
 fortress. "I've felt 'shamed 'nough 'f other folks, some- 
 times." 
 
 "Why, I know better of you than that," said the 
 beleaguering moralist, heartily. " I've heard of your 
 having been a leading scholar in Sunday school." 
 
 The boy answered both bitterly and contemptuously, 
 chewing faster, and pulling and thrusting into his mouth 
 new grass-stems : 
 
 " Plaguy sight o' good goiii' to Sabbath school done 
 me. To hev' a teacher come along, 'th kid gloves, 
 light afore the class, when ye'd got your lesson all 
 perfict, an' was the best scholar 'n the class, 'n' look 
 tierce, 'n' say, ' yeVl ought t' look better'n that, to 
 come to Sabbath school ; ' 'n' I'd been half 'n hour 
 fixun up, a-purpose, 's happy 's could be." 
 
 The kindly man who was listening attentively threw
 
 A YOUNG REPROBATE. 245 
 
 up his head in a mute gesture of sympathy, and was 
 just about to speak, for the boy's lips quivered, and 
 tears actually showed themselves on his lids ; and there 
 he was this hopeless-seeming young rascal show- 
 ing good feeling, and proper pride, and worthy ambi- 
 tion, and a very serviceable regard for the opinion of 
 others ; but there was more yet : 
 
 " I never went to Sabbath school agin, an' in two- 
 three months they sent me round a one-legged doll, 
 or something, f my Noo-Year's present; 'n' a tract 
 roun' it, 'Let not the sun go down 'pon your 
 wrath ! ' I made a hole 'n it, and stuck it on our 
 old sow's tail ; an' she thrashed round, an' lay down on 
 it, an' mashed it, an' trampled it all into muck, in no 
 time." 
 
 The listener, being a parish-priest, may have known 
 from experience that there are a great many Sunday- 
 school teachers (one-third, two-thirds, occasionally 
 three-thirds of them, in a given school) who have no 
 training, or calling, or liking for their work : at any rate, 
 he did not, in any way, undertake the defence of that 
 Sunday-school teacher, or of the race of such teachers. 
 The little confidence which had been just brought 
 about by the sharing of this painful experience in the 
 boy's life promised much easier work in the establish- 
 ing of a common understanding between them than 
 
 O *~D 
 
 had at first seemed likely. As moisture, whether 
 spread through miles of earth or air, or rounded into a 
 drop, is a good conductor of heat and electricity, so is 
 it of feeling; so it was with these tears of Phil Rainor. 
 But if the package of " currency " was the subject to 
 be come at, they seemed to be no nearer, and getting 
 no nearer, as yet.
 
 246 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 "But then, I suppose, somebody called, to say that 
 there'd been a mistake, and to make it right, and to see 
 after you ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! ever so much ! 'N about three weeks, 
 teacher come to the door, 'n' stood a-talking 'th mother 
 on her bed, inside there, 'n' I was a-doin' chores, in the 
 yard, close by, 'n' said, ' Th' object was to teach the 
 children self-respect, 'n' respect for teachers ' " (" But 
 respect for God, first," suggested the listener.) " That 
 wa'n't it, fust n' last, nary one ; the' wa'n't no r'spect 
 for Him about it ; 'twas all 'bout the teachers and 
 scholars, an' that ' the' was a good many nice-dressed 
 children there, an' a fullah hadn't ought to be shabby 
 'n' dirty ' (I wa'n't dirty, 'f I was shabby "), here was 
 a little spasm of feeling and stoppage of speech, 
 " ' an' the' hoped I'd show a proper sperit 'n' be p'lite 
 'n' 'umble ; ' 'n' about a peck 'f apples come round to 
 mother 'n' a bottle o' rawsb'ry vinegar." 
 
 "There's where you 'felt ashamed for' your teacher, 
 I suppose ? " 
 
 "I guess I did," answered the boy, with a pecu- 
 liar " rising inflection," as elocutionists call it, at the 
 end. 
 
 " I don't wonder, and I can't say that I blame you : 
 you weren't well dealt with. Well, now I know where 
 you felt ashamed of yourself, when you left your 
 mother, and the neighbors came in and saved her." 
 
 A dark turn came over the boy's face at this ; and, 
 glancing at the sinking sun, he repeated what he had 
 said at the beginning, that " he must be looking after 
 Mr. Bancroft's cows ; " and he was turning off, accord- 
 ingly- 
 
 " Stay ! " said Mr. Manson ; and then, adopting the
 
 A YOUXG REPROBATE. 247 
 
 boy's vernacular, repeated the synonyme, "Hold on, boy ! 
 that isn't all of it. Do you remember how faithful 
 you were, when you came back, and how she said ' there 
 wasn't such another son in Eastham ' ? " 
 
 " That wa'n't nothin'," said the boy, not yet fairly 
 turning away, and even looking almost, if not quite, 
 bashful, under the effect of this commendation. In a 
 moment, he even came nearer than this to the fellow- 
 ship of good morals and good feelings within which 
 stood the respectable person who was now dealing with 
 him, and toward which the respectable person was try- 
 ing to draw him. Of himself he offered an explanation 
 of the dark-looking place in his history, which had 
 been just brought up. 
 
 " Why I left mother that time was 'cause she took 
 part against me, and pretended to scold me for not 
 bein' careful 'nough 'bout m' clo'es. I went off an' got 
 
 O O 
 
 a place to work, for next to nothin', 't fust, an 'hev' my 
 clo'es an' board. I was goin' to giv' 'most all I earned 
 to mother, an' do her chores ; an' the' wa'n't no danger 
 'f her dyin' nor nawth'n like it, no time ; the' wus al'ays 
 plenty o' neighbors comin' in, an' hangin' roun'." 
 
 Whatever was in Mr. Hanson's mind, he made no 
 attempt to interrupt or divert the boy from his story: 
 it seemed to suit his purpose very well. He helped 
 him on in it by asking, briefly, 
 
 " Did you stay in that place ? " 
 
 "No!" said the boy, with a strong emphasis; and 
 there followed something which seemed like a choking 
 in his scrawny throat, and something which seemed like 
 a heaving of his chest ; and these, with his turning- 
 round and kicking at a tuft of grass, showed a deeper 
 up-stir in his bosom than any thing yet.
 
 248 ANTONY BEADS. 
 
 This unwilling show of feeling was not meddled 
 with, and there was a dead silence. 
 
 "B'cause I had a little sore," Rainor began again, 
 after a while (and over-dainty and even delicate read- 
 ers must put up with the mention of the not-nice 
 ailments of their poor fellows, if they wish to come 
 near them and do any thing for them). Then there 
 was another pause and a dead silence. 
 
 " I couldn't help it ; an' I done the best I could 
 about it." (This came out piecemeal.) " I kep' it 
 washed out clean, an' put in a plug o' cotton-wool, 
 an' done the best I could," said the poor fellow, repeating 
 himself, while he handled his unsavory subject with 
 as much delicacy, perhaps, as he knew how to use. 
 "The' said 'I wasn' nice to hev' roun';' said 'the' 
 was sorry' (teacher'd ben givin' 'em a little moral 
 'dvice about me)." Here, with a last definite kick at 
 the tuft of grass, the much-broken explanation ended. 
 The thing had touched him deeply, and the hurt was 
 rankling still. 
 
 " That was all!" said his sympathizing hearer cheer- 
 ily. "Well, you'll do yet, Philip, never fear." The 
 voice brought Rainor round again ; and he looked up 
 also before he was aware. 
 
 "Now, look here!" said Mr. Manson, holding out 
 the package of scrip, xipon which the boy fixed his 
 eyes, as he was asked to do, but with a very unintelli- 
 gent lk at first, so much was he still occupied with 
 the painful thing just laid open. His look was, for 
 a while, as unrecognizing as if he had never seen any 
 thing of the kind before, or did not know enough of it 
 even to desire it. 
 
 This expression, however, did not last very long, and
 
 A IOUNG REPROBATE. 249 
 
 was followed by a look of something like confusion, 
 and then by a smile, which seemed as separate from the 
 rest as one of the little side-scenes on the stage is 
 separate from every other, however often made to com- 
 bine in order to some desired effect. There the smile 
 was ; but the face was not made up into any definite 
 expression, and so the smile was unemployed. 
 
 " You dropped this, and I picked it up. Now don't 
 let's lose the good understanding we've gained. Let 
 us keep on understanding each other" (for he might 
 not be sure that the boy was not sinking back again 
 into the saucy, clogged ness from which he had, with a 
 little timely and skilful help, just scrambled out). 
 
 " If you say I dropped it, I s'pose ye're goin' to give 
 it to me," Rainor said. 
 
 "No, I'm not, at all," said the clergyman. "I sup- 
 pose you know that one of these bits of paper would 
 send a man to the state's prison ? Now, don't say a 
 word yet ; for I'm going to keep on the right side of 
 you. I'm a friend ; and I'm perfectly willing to have 
 you know it. Now any one of a hundred of these 
 bits of paper would send a man to state's prison, by the 
 law of every country on earth." 
 
 " Some of 'em haven't got no state's prisons, nor yet 
 no money, neither," said the boy, proposing a correc- 
 tion, with a smile. 
 
 "Stay!" said Mr. Manson, shaking his head. "No 
 mocking, now, my boy! I'm going to keep you on 
 your best side. Remember that we understand each 
 other : I know your discouragements and mortifications. 
 You remember your geography, from school ? Do you 
 remember the name of any of those countries ? " 
 
 "Over'n Afriky, I s'pose, somew'e's, f one place*
 
 250 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " Savage ? or civilized ? (I'm glad you recollect.)" 
 
 " Oh ! savage, I s'pose : I shouldn't say they was very 
 civilized." 
 
 " Yes : all civilized nations make a great crime of 
 passing counterfeit money ; in some, the punishment is 
 death." (The boy began to grow paler, even, than was 
 natural to him.) 
 
 "I hain't put off 'n atom 'f it. But what's the 
 odds?" he exclaimed: "it's jest exactly 's good 's any 
 the' is goin'. 'Tain't none of it real money: they called 
 it merchandise." (This reference to third parties he 
 seemed to make unwittingly.) "It's wuth jest 'xactly 's 
 much as folks '11 take it for. What's two-three inches 
 o' paper wuth, any how ? " 
 
 "Now, stop! that'll do," said Mr. Manson, very 
 quietly. " Let's try to speak truth to each other. Plave 
 you passed any counterfeits ? " 
 
 "No, I hain't; but I know 'bout it." 
 
 " Well, don't talk to me as if you thought I hadn't 
 common sense, or didn't know how much you knew. 
 That's nonsense. You know, very well, that this is 
 wicked stuff, and the men you got it of wouldn't dare 
 to acknowledge it. It's only in the dark, and under 
 lies and cheats, that a man can pass them off." (All 
 this time Rainor looked agitated.) " Now, you've got 
 yourself into a very bad position, and it's hard to get 
 you out of it. If you were a man, you'd deserve to go 
 to state's prison for having those on you." 
 
 " Who says I've got any on me ? " asked the boy, look- 
 ing half-up, askant. 
 
 " This parcel's enough," answered Mr. Manson. 
 
 Instantly, as suddenly as if he had been preparing 
 for it, Rainor sprang toward the hand that held the
 
 A YOUNG REPROBATE. 251 
 
 fatal package, and made a snatch for it. Quick as he 
 was, however, he did not find this good-natured gentle- 
 man off his guard. Not only did the spring and 
 snatch accomplish nothing ; but the man, quicker than 
 he was, putting one hand in front and one behind, laid 
 the boy on the ground almost before he had made his 
 spring. 
 
 " It wouldn t be hard to searcli you, you see," said the 
 conqueror, putting his hand quietly at his throat, with 
 just effort enough to keep him down. 
 
 " No, ye don't pick none of my pockets ! " answered 
 the young prisoner, trying to speak and act like a 
 desperate fellow, and drawing a pistol from inside his 
 jacket, where he had kept one hand. 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! " said Mr. Manson, with a laugh : 
 " you don't think you can frighten me, do you ? That 
 thing isn't loaded, and, if it were, you wouldn't use it." 
 The boy said nothing, and certainly made no formidable 
 demonstration with the weapon, which was, apparently, 
 an old, six-inch smooth-bore of the cheapest sort. 
 
 The unwilling captive, however, began to squirm 
 upon the ground; and, as he writhed about, another 
 package, like the first, found its way out of his trou- 
 sers-pocket. 
 
 " Come, come ! " said Mr. Manson, taking possession 
 of this booty : " I'm not going to hold you or hurt 
 you. Get up, and put away that silly thing." 
 
 The late would-be ruffian, looking rather sheepishly, 
 obeyed ; but, as he got up to his feet, he said, glancing 
 at the hand which now held two packages, 
 
 " You hain't got any right to pick my pockets." 
 
 "Now, Philip," said the clergyman, in a patient, 
 kind voice, " this wicked stuff is no more property than
 
 252 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 the runnings of small-pox are property. I'm only your 
 friend : I'm not a constable, and I want to help you 
 out of trouble. You're worse than I thought, some 
 people would say you were too bad to do any thing 
 with, but I see you're not very far in yet." 
 
 " Pooty much 's they say, I guess : I s'pose they 
 . wouldn't give me a trial," said the boy, answering one 
 part. of the sentence. 
 
 " Xo, I think there's plenty in you to go upon : we 
 must make something of you." 
 
 "Not much, I guess," said the boy, not yet facing the 
 eyes that were looking steadfastly and thoughtfully at 
 him. 
 
 "You wouldn't have gained any thing, by getting 
 these," said Mr. Manson. 
 
 "You wouldn't have had no proof," interrupted 
 Rainor. 
 
 " You're mistaking fearfully. But we won't argue ; 
 and time's going. You'll have to drive your cows 
 shortly." (Philip looked, as if mechanically, toward the 
 sun.) " I want to get you out of this ugly business, 
 out of the men, and out of the thing." 
 
 " I haven't said nothing about no men," said the boy. 
 
 " I mean the men that sold you this vile stufi^ and 
 called it ' merchandise.' Don't talk. Let's consult as 
 friends. I want to get you out of this first, and then 
 make an honest boy of you. You're pretty deep in 
 this," he said, gravely and thoughtfully ; "but there must 
 be a way of getting you out, and then I know you're not 
 lazy, though, I hear, you've been a thief and a liar, and 
 I don't know what else." 
 
 " I hain't lied to you" said poor Philip, " V I guess 
 the most stealin' ever I done was I took a St. Bart's
 
 A YOUNG REPROBATE. 253 
 
 trap I thought they'd left. An' I put it back; but 
 they wouldn't hear to no reason." Then, with a look 
 of satisfaction, " Got into a squabble, though, 'mong 
 'emselves, t'other day ; but 'twan't the right ones, 
 'xac'ly." 
 
 " Was that something between you and the St. 
 Bart's boys, lately ? " 
 
 " About the trap, was quite a spell ago ; but I played 
 a trick on 'em, jest to show 'twan't so easy, all'a's, to 
 find out. I meant it for Remsen, there, 'n' Towne ; 
 but two-three others got into a tussle about it. I 
 wouldn't 'a' done it 'f they'd ben any ways reas'nable 
 'bout the trap ; nor I didn't want to set 'em fightin' 
 nuther." 
 
 " What was it that you did ? " Mr. Manson asked. 
 
 " Changed a white rabbit over from Remsen's snare 
 into the other fullah's trap," said the boy. " I wanted 
 Towne 'n' Remsen t' have a jaw over it, an' try an' find 
 out ; 'n' then not be so quick to think they knoo all 
 about it, an' another fullah didn't know nothin' an' was 
 all lies, to boot." 
 
 Ridiculous as the thrusting-in of bungling machinery 
 like this into the workings of the moral universe might 
 appear, Phil Rainor's story had the appearance of 
 truth. 
 
 " We'll have a better way than that, next time," 
 said the clergyman, smiling. " Do the boys know yet ? " 
 
 " I told Tarleton, one that fought about it." 
 
 " Well, I'll see that all made right. Now, we must 
 keep you out of state's prison." 
 
 " There's a plaguy sight o' smart fellahs, by all the 
 talk, gets " 
 
 Mr. Manson caught him up :
 
 254 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " A set of thieving, lying, gambling, swearing, fight' 
 ing, house-breaking, murdering, defiling villains ! You 
 must have done with all that sort of thinking, or the 
 One that I act for won't help you." 
 
 " 'Taint Tom Parmenter ? " the boy asked, making 
 free with the name, as country people are apt to do, 
 about any one who has grown rich among them. " My 
 gran'ther picked his'n " 
 
 Mr. Manson, with little curiosity to know what might 
 have happened between these ancestors, whether one, 
 more lucky, had picked the other's metaphorical pin- 
 feathers for him, or had picked him up where he had 
 fallen, or whether for an honest wage that one had 
 picked the other's peas or apples for him, cut short 
 the story : 
 
 " No, it isn't Mr. Parmenter," he said : " it's God. 
 Your father was respectable. Come, I'll walk with 
 you, while you gather your cows." 
 
 " My father worked himself into a hactic, an' went 
 off, 'fore I ever knoo him." 
 
 " Well, we must try to get you up to something re- 
 spectable ; but we've got to go on with it, no thiev- 
 ing, no cheating, no lying, we're to stop short off, and 
 start from where we are." 
 
 " If I say I will, I will," said the boy. " I'll keep to 
 it, 'f I die for't." 
 
 " I'll trust you," said his friend. 
 
 He paused as if to give Rainor a chance to meet him 
 half way ; but the boy was silent. Suddenly he broke 
 out: 
 
 " Sh'll hev' to do it m'self, V I tried once and 
 failed. 'Tain't's if I had any friends,' or en'thin' to go 
 'pon. Who's a-goin' to git me a place ? "
 
 A YOUNG REPROBATE. 255 
 
 " You'll have to take your chance for that," said the 
 adviser, quietly ; " but to be somebody, and not a villain 
 or a scoundrel, is worth all risks. You'll have to stick 
 fast. You're looking at it in the right way : only, if 
 you do go at it yourself, there's One to help you that 
 you don't believe in yet." 
 
 They walked . on silently for a few steps, down the 
 field. 
 
 " You'd better give me that currency," said Mr. Man- 
 son, decidedly. " Of course I shall see that not one 
 bit of it ever passes." 
 
 " I give cash for that scrip," said Phil Rainor; " but 
 I s'pose I must lose it." 
 
 " Yes, that's a loss I can't help : you'll have to bear 
 it. If you waked up, you know, with walls of fire 
 all round you, you'd jump through, though you might 
 lose some of your clothing, and get scorched, too." 
 
 Here was a pretty strong obstacle to meet, at the 
 outset, with a subject to work upon whose habit of well- 
 doing was so fresh and unstiffened as that of this lad ; 
 
 O * 
 
 but his befriender left it just as it was. 
 
 Rainor, without another word, began emptying his 
 pocket. The vile stuff Mr. Manson received with an 
 expression of disgust. Then, having longer and larger 
 experience of human nature, and of how things go in 
 it, he said (and pretty much in the boy's own ver- 
 nacular) : 
 
 " Perhaps you won't feel better right off; " then, as 
 he handled the wretched stuff, " Enough to make an 
 honest fellow sick, to look at it ! " and he read, from the 
 wrapper of one of the packets, "'Patent Exemption 
 Matches : open the other End ; ' and a counterfeit 
 Revenue Stamp ! "
 
 256 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 All this, except the first few words, might as well 
 have been an aside, as far as Rainor was concerned. 
 He seemed to have heard only those. 
 
 " Yes, I do, though," answered the poor scapegrace, 
 who had really made a very heroic move for a boy like 
 him, and might have been excused, if he had felt, as 
 yet, pretty much like one who has had a loathsome 
 tooth wrenched out, and has not got himself back quite, 
 and therefore does not quite know how he feels. " I feel 
 better, an' plagued glad I be I didn' git any further 
 into it, though one thing you can tell 'em, I never had 
 a mite 'f it 'fore this ; an' I hain't put off an atom o' 
 this." 
 
 " Remember we're on the way upward : we've made 
 a start," said his adviser. 
 
 As he spoke he took a penknife from his pocket, and 
 then, laying the packets, of which there were five, on 
 their edges, in one body on the ground, he slashed 
 deeply into and across them, in several places, and then 
 said, as he lifted himself up : 
 
 " Now, what we want is a match, to get rid of these 
 things on the spot, and put them out of the way of 
 doing harm." 
 
 Upon the word, Rainor, as such boys always can, 
 produced a match from his pocket, and Mr. Manson, 
 thus supplied, broke every package, and stirred the 
 whole pretty thoroughly up into a loose heap, inside 
 the newspaper in which they had been wrapped ; and 
 then laid the parcel upon the bare top of an imbedded 
 stone, repeating, as he did so, a line which, though of 
 course lost upon Rainor, doubtless brought some satis- 
 faction to himself:
 
 A YOUNG REPROBATE. 257 
 
 " ' Lustramurque Deo, votisque incendimus aras.' " * 
 
 Then, setting fire to the easily kindled mass, he for- 
 mally took off his hat, and said to the boy (what he 
 could understand) : 
 
 " Now, Philip, may God accept this as a little sacri- 
 fice ! " and he fanned the flames with the hat, till a 
 bright, strong blaze had got possession. 
 
 The boy must have both understood and sympathized 
 pretty well ; for he, too, took off, a little sheepishly, his 
 hard-worn cap, and applied himself to pushing together 
 the fast-burning pieces of paper to make sure that 
 nothing should be left of any of them. 
 
 The very last bit of paper was, before long, burned 
 into black and brittle uselessness, and was ground under 
 Mr. Hanson's heel, and then scattered with his foot to 
 the air and the earth. 
 
 " There, Philip," said he, "you've done the first thing 
 well. There'll be plenty more of it for you, like the 
 rest of us, if you live long enough. Doing right, after 
 wrong, will be hard, sometimes, and cost something ; 
 but it's the only thing. You'll hear from these scoun- 
 drels and their ' merchandise,' very likely, and you'll 
 have to be strong. Mind you, Philip, no giving-in, a 
 hair's breadth ! Let me tell you. Tell them, at once, 
 that you've burned their vile stuff, and that I know all 
 about it. Will you ? Promise me ! " (holding out his 
 hand). "On your honor!" (as Rainor promised). 
 " That'll do. God bless you ! " and he left the boy to 
 his cows. 
 
 * JEn. iii. 279 : " We purify ourselves to God, and with vows 
 we kindle our altar fires." 
 
 Q
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 A BREATH OF FRESH AIR. 
 
 THE elements of which this world is made up are, 
 happily, very different ; and as our healthy priest, with 
 every reason to feel thankful and happy over his work, 
 left the field and took the road, the musing stillness 
 of nature was broken only by his own quick arid spring- 
 ing footsteps ; while before him was the broad waste 
 of the sun's abandoned gold which the clouds were 
 decking themselves with. 
 
 Before long, there came up from some turn below 
 a very clear voice from a girl, as separate and free as 
 steam in cooler air, 
 
 " A little rose peeped through the fence 
 
 To find the golden sun ; 
 But careless fingers plucked it thence 
 Before the hour was done." 
 
 Mr. Manson quickened his pace ; and soon, turning 
 into a cross-road, came upon a bevy of young people, 
 of whom one was our friend Kate Ryan, and three 
 others he addressed, in returning their salutations, by 
 three different Christian names with the one surname 
 of Bemis. 
 
 He complimented Kate cheerily on her song, and, 
 failing to draw from her a second stanza (for, as she 
 said, " she knew no more of it"), applied a little moral
 
 A BREATH OF FRESH AIR. 250 
 
 of his own, that " peering after ' golden suns ' was dan- 
 gerous business," he gave his voice decidedly with those 
 of the Misses Bemis, that no one could so well as Kate 
 represent, at Mrs. Wadham's party, some character, 
 whatever it was (from which, as it would appear, she 
 wished to escape), and received sudden thanks from a 
 voice which had not before spoken for itself, and to 
 which he returned some pleasant compliment to " Mrs. 
 Ryan." 
 
 Then taking leave of them, after this momentary 
 encounter, which must have given a pleasant waft to 
 his spirits, he went on ; gladdened with the present of 
 nuts little Billy Games, the cripple, who was sitting at 
 a window, watching the not very abundant life upon 
 the road ; and ended by finding Mrs. Rainor waiting, 
 and a little impatient, for Philip's coming home. Very 
 naturally, as soon as a footstep was heard near the door, 
 a weak and rather peevish voice called "Philip ! " But 
 she was glad to sec her visitor. 
 
 Her room showed many little contrivances in carpen- 
 tei'ing, as shelves for flowers, and book-shelves, and 
 the like. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Rainor was not alone as the clergyman 
 entered ; for a pleasant-faced neighborly-looking woman, 
 to whom Mr. Manson's coming in seemed to give much 
 satisfaction, was sitting in a corner. 
 
 Mrs. Rainor had already set in motion her intelligent 
 consciousness and appreciation of her forlorn condition, 
 and they were expressing themselves in words. Mr. 
 Manson's strong, healthy nature could not only meet 
 and neutralize a great deal of this, but also give back 
 far more of cheerful and hopeful feeling. He listened 
 attentively and respectfully, with well-timed monosyl-
 
 260 ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 lables of sympathy, while Mrs. Rainor, in a sharp, plain- 
 tive voice, was giving a faithful account of " that 
 old trouble she took in the spine of her back the 
 February that father died ; and then this one, that 
 come on her at the pit of her stomach, and from that 
 straight to her right side." Then, as the thought of 
 supper (perhaps a little later than usual) grew strong 
 to her, she explained that " the way witli her was, she 
 would have a good appetite, and think she could eat 
 hearty, and enjoy any thing ; and when it come to the 
 scratch, 'twa'n't there, and every thing went against 
 her ;" and, as she added plaintively, " she was a woman 
 that did set a great store by her victuals." This appeal 
 to a character which, if nowhere else recorded to her 
 credit, was doubtless cherished in the memories of her 
 friends, seemed to bring some relief, comfort, perhaps, 
 could not be expected. 
 
 Mr. Manson got the conversation turned to her son, 
 of whom the mother seemed to have formed a pretty 
 impartial opinion : that " he was thoughtless, like 
 boys, and yet for all he was pooty thoughtful, and, 
 no doubt, he had considerable to try him ; but he 
 meant to be good to her. There was a time when he 
 and the St. Bart's boys didn't seem to get along very 
 well together for a spell ; but she didn't hear no com- 
 plaints now. Poor old' ' mother,' she expected, was a 
 burden ; but it was about as bad for her as anybody 
 else to be layin' there ; for, you know, Mrs. Weather- 
 bee " (to the neighbor in the corner, and in a high, 
 wailing tone, which contrasted strongly with the ener- 
 getic vigor of the words which it faltered forth), "when 
 I was any ways myself, I used to flax round lively, 
 I tell yow."
 
 A BREATH OF FRESH AIR. 261 
 
 The Pai-son was just showing, to Mrs. Weatherbee's 
 admiration, as well as to the quiet gratification of Mrs. 
 Rainor, his gathering of ferns, taken up with little 
 clumps of earth. They were very insignificant-looking 
 in their winter state ; but he was setting forth the 
 beauties of a green forest under glass, for which Philip 
 should make the frame-work, with Mr. Manson's super- 
 intendence. 
 
 The son came in while he was speaking; and he 
 considerately interrupted himself at once, and took his 
 leave, after giving Philip notice of the job in store for 
 him.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 SOME BOYS VENTUBE ON THE FAIR SEA OF 
 PHILOLOGY. 
 
 THE days of boyhood, as we need hardly tell those 
 who ever went through them alive, are days in which 
 we are sure that there is a world close by us, and open 
 to us, in which are Greatness and Glory and Beauty ; 
 into which world we shall, some time, go to get them. 
 Those are days in which hope is stronger than any 
 thing it meets ; in which, without consciousness of our 
 own riches, we have hold of a share of eternity, be- 
 cause things past, the achievements of the race, men 
 of the furthest ages, their words; the stands that 
 they made ; their daring, their indignation, their en- 
 durance, their faithfulness, their chances, failures, tri- 
 umphs, are not gone out of being, but are all 
 there. 
 
 The wondrous tongues of Greece and Rome are 
 great to the boyish fancy, because, as boys, we come, 
 through them, into a sort of common nationality and 
 relationship with all the wise and great who breathed 
 the earlier air of our earth. Latin and Greek live 
 yet, and thrill from mighty brains and hearts within 
 the same nature with ourselves. 
 
 Now there were boys of fancy at St. Bartholomew's 
 School ; and at least one current of ambition was set-
 
 ON THE SEA OF PHILOLOGY. 263 
 
 ting, at this time, toward discoveries in LANGUAGE. 
 We have heard already of "Notes on Cassar," and 
 have heard the friendly encouragement to Brade. Now 
 it was understood in the School that a couple of Bar- 
 tlenias fellows were doing what probably had never 
 been tried by any boys of any school : Brade, of the 
 Third Form, with help from Gaston, of the Fourth, 
 the foremost scholar, WAS MAKING A BOOK ABOUT 
 GREEK AND LATIN! 
 
 Such boys as had mouths most ready to open, as 
 Will Hirsett, for example, were open-mouthed about 
 this forthcoming wonder, but doubted whether the 
 Caput knew of it. Hirsett said " he knew that Brade 
 had an awful heap of paper to write it on " (which is 
 certainly one step toward book-making), and Ransom, 
 or somebody, " had seen him looking out ever so many 
 words in the dictionary, Greek words, when he 
 wasn't learning his lesson, and writing them down." 
 
 To questions asked directly of himself about this 
 great work, Brade answered, with a very natural look 
 of satisfaction qualified with mystery, that it was not 
 any thing yet, but perhaps it would be ; and Ilemsen, 
 when he was appealed to on the same subject, had said 
 that " Brade had got a notion in his head that would 
 astonish the world, as he (Remsen) thought. He did 
 not know exactly what it was himself; but it was a 
 very bright thing." 
 
 Mr. Hamersley, the new tutor, in whose recitation- 
 room was the largest table of all, had given Brade 
 leave to take his books into that room, for the purpose 
 of this work, for two hours, every other afternoon; 
 and certain specified boys were to be allowed to go into 
 it with him.
 
 264 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 On the second of thtjse afternoons, there were seated 
 in this room Gaston and Brade ; and on the great table 
 were two or three large books (like lexicons) lying 
 open, and a good deal of writing-paper, and an ink- 
 stand and pens. All this looked like a preparation for 
 business; but the two, like other boys, were as yet 
 engaged in conversation, and both looking at a trans- 
 parency in one of the windows which seemed not like 
 a part of the regular furniture of the room. This was 
 a copy of Collins's admirable painting of the " Sale 
 of the Pet Lamb," from Mrs. Hewitt's story. It had 
 all that exquisite and wonderful shading which is 
 characteristic of fine specimens of that sort of art- work, 
 and the boys were duly impressed. 
 
 " It's too bad, isn't it ? " said Gaston. " Do you sup- 
 pose they did really let it go ? That girl's pushing the 
 butcher's boy. She couldn't do any thing that way ! " 
 he continued, with the wisdom of a boy a little older 
 than the girl, and who had sisters at home, and knew by 
 experience their faults. Then he laughed, as he saw a 
 new part of the scene. 
 
 "Look at that youngster pointing off into the woods; 
 proposing to carry the lamb off, and hide it, isn't he ? 
 But they couldn't do it : they'd have to bring it back," 
 said he again, after a pause. " No, they needn't, though. 
 Why couldn't they keep it off in the woods, some- 
 where, and carry food to it ? " 
 
 Brade was silently watching the picture (if we may 
 so call a thing which is without color, but which repre- 
 sents most faithfully a scene of many-colored life), and 
 said, 
 
 " I don't know what they did do : I only just got it 
 to-day," and he looked a little longer. Then he said,
 
 ON TEE SEA OF PHILOLOGY. 265 
 
 " But there's the mother ; and the butcher is paying 
 down the money. If they sell it, they'll have to let it 
 go. They're poor, and they can't keep it : poor people 
 have to sell their things. It is too bad, isn't it ? " 
 
 "Well, I'll tell you what it is," said Gaston, smiling, 
 " a fellow mustn't be poor. If you get money, you can 
 take care of yourself, and have what you want to." 
 
 " But there are a good many poor," said the other, 
 "and they can't help themselves." 
 
 " Well, all I say is, you mustn't be poor. If a fel- 
 low can learn his lessons, he can learn a profession, and 
 then he can make his way." 
 
 " It would be good if we could stop the poor from 
 losing their things," said Brade. " That's one thing 
 Peters is after, isn't it ? Pie's always talking about 
 helping people." 
 
 " Peters has got some smartness in him," said Gaston; 
 "but he hasn't got any gumption. I don't believe it'll 
 come to any thing. I'll tell you, you'll have to get rich 
 yourself first : oh, you are / but I ain't. You won't 
 have to do any work, if you don't want to ; but I shall. 
 And my father always said, 'Work earns pay ; and good 
 work earns good pay.' " 
 
 " I mean to work all my life, just as hard as I'm 
 working now," said Antony, with quiet determination. 
 " Every man ought to work." 
 
 " If you don't work any harder than you're working 
 now," said Gaston, laughing, " I don't think it'll amount 
 to much ; " and then, without further words, but laugh- 
 ing, Brade gathered the papers toward himself. 
 
 " I'll take it down now," he said, " and then we sha'n't 
 look at it ; " and he went toward the window. 
 12
 
 266 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 " You won't have to do that, though," said Gaston. 
 " We needn't look at it." 
 
 " We've talked about it long enough," said Brade ; 
 and so he laid the transparency down on the table. 
 
 " What do you think we ought to call it ? " he 
 asked, his mind now full of the other subject. 
 
 Gaston seemed as full of it as he, and answered 
 readily : 
 
 "My father always says, 'You ought to have some- 
 thing steadily in your mind, and keep to it ; ' but he 
 says, ' It don't matter about naming a book till you've 
 got through ; ' and he's written books. He's written 
 several books." 
 
 "Wouldn't 'Analogy of Languages' be good?" 
 Brade asked. " Analogy means that, doesn't it ? " 
 
 Here there was a knock at the door ; and after a 
 parley, to make sure who it was, Remsen was let in. 
 
 "Yes, I should think that would do," said Gaston. 
 " Well, how much have you got, so far ? " 
 
 Antony was busy writing down the name, which he 
 read, as he finished, " The Analogy of Languages." 
 " You can't say Greek and Latin, can you ? because 
 there'll be others : there'll be English, and others." 
 
 " Why, there's Sanscrit ! " exclaimed Gaston, " that 
 everybody's making so much of: my father says 
 'they'll find out every thing by that,' and he knows 
 a great deal about languages." 
 
 "Oh, yes!" said Brade, eagerly, but modestly, "I 
 think I've thought something about that, that I can't 
 find in any book I've got." 
 
 " Yes ! " said Remsen, " he's made a discovery, I do 
 believe." 
 
 "Don't you suppose," asked Antony, glowing with
 
 ON THE SEA OF PHILOLOGY. 267 
 
 his expectation, " that it was called 'Sanscrit' because 
 it wasn't written ? " He was a little nervous, as lie 
 spoke. 
 
 " I don't know," said Gaston : " I've thought of that ; 
 but I never remembered to ask my father. I've heard 
 him talk of it, many and many a time. Let's see : 
 ' sans ' is French for ' sine, without,' that we know. 
 How do you make ' crit ' ? Let's see : ' ecrire ' is French 
 for ' scribere, to write,' ' sans-ecrit' If it's French, 
 I should think everybody would know it," and he was 
 evidently puzzled. Presently he assailed it again ; 
 " ' Sine scripto,' ' sin-script,' ' san-scrit,' it might 
 go so, couldn't it? and then people would forget what 
 it came from, perhaps. There's a word," he con- 
 tinued, thoughtfully, " look here ! 'tisn't the one 
 I was thinking of; but there's ' doubt ' with the 
 <&'" 
 
 " Look here ! " exclaimed Brade, triumphantly, 
 "'manuscrit' is .French, with the 'p' left out." 
 
 " So it is ! " cried Gaston, slapping the table. " Good . 
 In ' doubt ' you don't pronounce ' b,' but then you write 
 it." 
 
 " Hooray ! " said Remsen, beginning to dance, for his 
 part. " What have you got to now ? Isn't it fun ? 
 St. Bart's School is going to be heard from." 
 
 Our philologists must have made more noise than 
 they were aware of; for a giggling was heard at the 
 outside of the door, which showed that there were 
 more persons privy to the gratifying discovery just 
 announced than were contained within the walls of the 
 room. The faces, however, of the successful scholars, 
 radiant with joy, showed lillle concern about the promis- 
 cuous crowd of nameless plodders in the ways of learn-
 
 268 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 ing who might be loitering on the other side of the 
 secure fastening of their own retreat. They said no 
 word to them ; and Brade, in the full flush of the 
 achievement, occupied himself with making a record 
 of it, in enduring ink, his face all glowing with en- 
 thusiasm. 
 
 " One trouble will be that we don't know all the 
 languages," said Gaston. " We know," he continued, 
 confidently, " Greek and Latin and French and Eng- 
 lish, and you know German. How many is that?" 
 
 " Six," said Remsen, like a ready reckoner. 
 
 " Well, that's a good many, ain't it ? " said Gaston. 
 " As far as it goes, you know, it'll be good. Come ! 
 let's go on ! " 
 
 " Shouldn't you like to take it up to the Caput ? " 
 asked Brade. 
 
 "Yes; but let's get some more down first," said 
 Gaston. 
 
 Antony began pulling forth with his forefingers, from 
 his waistcoat-pockets, little rolls of paper, which he 
 proceeded to unfold, one after another, spreading them 
 out upon the table. Gaston seemed disposed to depend 
 upon his own head : at least he made no show of pro- 
 ducing memoranda. 
 
 " I've got a few," said Brade, and he began to read. 
 
 " Here's a queer one," said he, laughing in anticipa- 
 tion, " ' ^jwwxo) : ' * in Greek that means to cheic" 
 
 "Now, how do you suppose that ever came?" said 
 Gaston, with the eagerness of a scholar. " The curi- 
 osity of it is that a fellow that smokes don't generally 
 chew, and a fellow that chews don't generally smoke : 
 
 * " Smoko," if our readers will allow us to put it in English 
 letters.
 
 ON THE SEA OF PHILOLOGY. 269 
 
 I've heard my brother say so. There's a change that, 
 I suppose, might come round in the course of ages. 
 Chewing, probably, comes before smoking. They 
 used to chew, now they smoke. I wonder if there's 
 any Latin word like that. Look out smoke, or any 
 thing like it, in Andrews. I'm pretty sure there 
 isn't." - 
 
 Remsen entered into this very readily, and turned 
 over the leaves so fast as to get beyond it, each way, 
 before he hit the place ; but then he proclaimed that 
 " there was nothing like it there. There was ' smarag- 
 dus'" ("Oh! that's Greek," said Gaston, who had a 
 quick ear), "and 'smilax' and 'smintheus'" ("We all 
 know that's Greek," said Gaston), " ' and smyr ' " 
 
 " But there's nothing like ' smoco,' " said Gaston ; 
 " but I'll tell you, we had something in our French, 
 to-day, ' s'moquer ' " (Antony looked up from his 
 papers, at this new ' analogy,' if that is the name ; and 
 Remsen was tilting backward in his chair, awaiting, 
 with much equanimity, the progress of science. Gaston 
 went on), " ' s'moquerj to laugh at a fellow; when you 
 find him out, when you ' smoke ' him " 
 
 " But that's short ' o,' ' moq-uerj " said Brade, learn- 
 edly : " in Greek it's ' omega.' Besides, it's two words, 
 se moquer. Oh ! you're only joking. We mustn't have 
 any thing but what's pretty solid. I know the German : 
 it's schmauchen ; but in German it only means ' smoke.' 
 We've got German and Greek and English," he added, 
 summing up complacently. " There's another word I 
 don't suppose we could bring in, that's ' schmuckj 
 dress. You see 'smock' 's the same word, I'm pretty 
 sure ; and farmers wear ' smocks ; ' but then there's 
 some kind of a woman's dress called that, too. If it
 
 270 ANTONY BEADS. 
 
 wasn't for that, we could bring it under * smoke, 
 couldn't we ? You see v it's very light: they could make 
 tinder of it, and that's a sort of smoke." 
 
 "I shouldn't wonder if you could bring it in so," 
 said Gaston. 
 
 " If it wasn't a woman's dress," said Brade, doubt- 
 fully. " Well, here's another ! " and he smiled pleasantly 
 again, in anticipation, as before his first word, and 
 showed no trace of that excessive irritability which 
 seems to belong to men of words, but was apparently 
 happy in the harmless rewards which science herself 
 gives, " 'J&eop' (scor) : that means 'dirt,' 'filth.' That's 
 just like ' SCOUR,' isn't it ? I could not find any Ger- 
 man for that " 
 
 "They don't have any filth in Germany, perhaps," 
 said Gaston, laughing. 
 
 " Or they don't have it scoured up" said Remsen, 
 who, as it will be remembered, comes of Holland-Dutch 
 stock. 
 
 " There's French, I found, ' scoriej " said Antony, 
 resuming. 
 
 " Hah ! from the Latin ! " exclaimed Gaston, promptly ; 
 for Gaston, as we have seen, has a sharp nose. "Isn't 
 it Greek, too ? Where's the Lexicon ? " looking to 
 Remsen, apparently content with head-work for him- 
 self. 
 
 "Haven't you got enough?" said Remsen, to whom 
 the manual and mechanical part of science seemed to 
 come much like what would be drudgery, in any other 
 department. " 1 can't find Greek." 
 
 Brade hastened to fill the gap : " Yes, yes, it's the 
 same thing as ' XCOQ : ' * it's from that." 
 
 * Pronounced " score."
 
 ON THE SEA OF PHILOLOGY. 271 
 
 " Haven ' you got enough?" asked Gaston : " that 
 is, for a beginning ? " Then, himself suddenly feeling 
 the breath of science, he was carried away. " Oh ! " 
 said he, " do you suppose our word ' score ' comes from 
 that, because it's put down in black ? " 
 
 " Come ! " said Remsen, " now let's stop ! " 
 
 " Oh ! not yet, not yet ! a little more ! " said Antony, 
 disappointed. Then, with a generalship suggested by 
 the occasion, as Quintus Horatius * says, and possibly 
 some other people have said, a leader's genius is dis- 
 played, at a pinch, he secured Remsen's patience. " I've 
 got one of Nick's coming directly," he said. Gaston, 
 though restless, had enough of a turn for philology to 
 make him sure, for a while. 
 
 "There are not a great many," said Brade : " c rfjiw ' 
 (temno), I cut ; Latin, ' temnoj I despise ; for despising 
 is very cutting to the feelings, you know " 
 
 " Ho ! look here ! " burst out Gaston, laughing, " if you 
 despise a fellow, you cut him, don't you know you do ? 
 Yes, put that down ! put that down ! " and it was evi- 
 dent that Gaston's interest in the work was blazing up. 
 " What's Remsen's ? " 
 
 " ' diiptg ' " (dipsis)" said Brade, " Greek, ' thirst ; ' 
 Remsen found that. He says ' dip ' is the same thing ; 
 for when you're thirsty, you dip up something to 
 drink." 
 
 " Is that for fun, or serious earnest, Remsen ? " asked 
 Gaston, smiling. 
 
 " No," said Remsen : " why shouldn't it be, if there's 
 any thing between Greek and P^nglish ? " 
 
 "Well, what next?" asked Gaston: "that's not bad 
 for Remsen. Put it do\vn." 
 
 * Satirar. II. viii. 73.
 
 272 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " Here's one," said Brade, hesitating. " I don't know 
 about it : I don't feel quite sure." 
 
 " Give it to us, and let us judge for ourselves," said 
 Gaston. 
 
 Well," said Brade, "it's ' &/' (Hheima*), Greek, 
 ' winter ; ' ' hiemsj Latin, ' winter.' What I was think- 
 ing of was," continued Brade, hesitating, modestly, 
 over a venture of his own, in language, "'heimat,' 
 in German, means ' home : ' now, a man cares more for 
 his home, in winter, when he wants fire, and to be 
 warm and comfortable." 
 
 " Pretty good ! " said Gaston. " Besides, perhaps 
 their houses didn't amount to much, except in winter : 
 I don't believe they did. And there was one time, I 
 suppose, when they dug their houses in the snow, 
 that would be their home, winter-quarters, you 
 see." 
 
 With all this, time was going by, and the light was 
 lessening, as Remsen reminded them ; so even Antony 
 seemed inclined to hurry. He turned over, hastily, his 
 scraps of paper, and put away one or two of them in 
 his pocket again. Then, turning to Gaston, he asked 
 for his contributions to the stock. 
 
 " I thought of one," said Gaston : " ' nsido) ' (peitho), to 
 'persuade:' the stem of that is ' pith ' (nid in Greek). 
 Now, isn't that just like it? A fellow that's got pith 
 in him is the fellow to persuade." 
 
 " Come, fellows," said Remsen, " ain't you ready to 
 stop yet? You've got enough to carry up to the 
 Caput, and show him what you're doing." 
 
 * The double H will represent, perhaps, to English readers, as 
 well as any thing, the strong aspirate of this word, and leave its 
 shape as Brade had it.
 
 ON THE SEA OF PHILOLOGY. 273 
 
 " Would you put that in ? " asked Brade of the 
 author of the last contribution. 
 
 " Well, I don't know," answered Gaston. " Do as 
 you please. What hard work those Ancients must 
 have had, in thinking, when they'd got to turn it all into 
 Greek and Latin, in their heads ! " he added, showing 
 by the words a glimpse of boyishness rather surprising 
 in one who learned like a man, and often thought and 
 talked like one. 
 
 " Why couldn't they think as easily as we can ? " 
 inquired Remsen, in a matter-of-fact way. 
 
 " Why ! ain't it harder to think in Latin and Greek 
 than it is in English ? " asked Gaston, with smiling 
 assurance. 
 
 " But it was their own language, you know, just as 
 English is ours," said Brade, " except us Russians," he 
 added. 
 
 " Well, but I appeal to you : ain't Greek or Latin 
 harder to think in than English ? Take ' ^op^oo ' 
 (nomizo), to ' think ; ' you've got to have ' think ' in 
 your mind first, and then ' fopoo ' ; but in English it's 
 all one thing, isn't it ? " 
 
 To this ingenious and well-put argument, neither of 
 the other boys answered, perhaps not seeing their 
 way well through it ; but Brade, setting up again his 
 transparency in the window for the entertainment of 
 his friends, while he should be occupied, professed his 
 own purpose of writing out, very carefully, what they 
 had got already, in order to carry it to the Head of the 
 School. 
 
 " You've got that about the Sanscrit first, haven't 
 you ? " asked Gaston ; and being assured that that was 
 12* B
 
 274 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 at the top of the page, and should be made very plain, 
 he turned slyly to Remsen, as if leaving Brade buried 
 in his work, and therefore not capable of hearing or 
 seeing any thing besides. 
 
 " Look here ! " said he, aside, laughing. " Let's get 
 up a little more by ourselves. You write, and I'll tell 
 you what to put down. First say, 
 
 "'Greek'" 
 
 " I can't write Greek," pleaded Remsen. 
 
 " Well, there ! " said Gaston, taking Remsen's pencil, 
 and writing, * 
 
 " ' Mdiaai ' [ Mdsai~\, the same as ' MOVGO.I ' [ Moused], 
 the Muses ; from fiwaai [mosai] ' " 
 
 Here, notwithstanding his being so busy, his brother 
 philologist, Brade, slackened the steady working of his 
 pen, and was evidently listening in spite of himself. 
 Gaston went on : 
 
 " This verb means ' to seek,' or ' mouse out ' " 
 
 As he got so far, Brade's pen went on again ; but the 
 smile on his face showed that he had been allured 
 before he detected Gaston. 
 
 " Oh, don't ! " said he. " You put me out." 
 
 " You put yourself out," said Gaston. " You've no 
 business to listen. Here, Remsen, let's have one more " 
 (Brade kept himself hard at work) : 
 
 " ^xshts \_skelos~], Greek, ' leg : ' Neuter, Third De- 
 clension, Genitive (old) skelesos. Skelus, Latin, ' wick- 
 edness : ' Neuter, Third Declension, old Genitive 
 skelesis, 'ts,' in Latin, answers to 'os' in Greek, in 
 the genitive. Wickedness is transgression; transgres- 
 sion is walking over: with the leg you walk over. 
 That's the way it came to mean ' leg ' in Greek, and 
 * wickedness ' in Latin."
 
 ON THE SEA OF PHILOLOGY. 275 
 
 " Now, Gaston, stop, please ! " said Brade, " and let 
 me write." 
 
 At this request, made with much urgency, Gaston 
 abandoned active exertion in philology, and now pro- 
 ceeded to examine again and remark upon the trans- 
 parency. 
 
 " Isn't the little sister pretty, kneeling down and 
 giving it milk ? " asked Remsen. 
 
 Brade, busy as he was, looked up, as if he did not 
 hear, but still turning his silent and abstracted look 
 toward the subject of Remsen's criticism ; then, with- 
 out saying any thing, looked down, and busied himself 
 with his work again. 
 
 " There ! " said he, in a few moments, rising with a 
 smile of satisfaction, and laying down his pen with so 
 little thought that it rolled off the table and was 
 picked up by Remsen. " Look here ! ' Sanscrit : the 
 name probably derived from having no writings.' " 
 
 " That's as plain as printing," said Remsen. 
 
 " Do you suppose we can be the first that found 
 that out?" asked Brade. "I hadn't any book to 
 look it out in exactly," he said, with some appearance 
 of apprehension because of the importance of the thing 
 which was at stake. " Oh, see ! " he said, as he caught 
 sight of one of his scraps of paper which had escaped 
 being put into his pocket, and had fallen to the floor, 
 " I didn't know whether I ought to put this in or not : 
 'Limn (Latin, illumino ; French, enluminer), to draw^ 
 to paint) particularly in water-colors.' I think that 
 might come from Ai\ivi\ (limne), a lake, don't you 
 think it might, Gaston ? because a lake reflects every 
 thing, just like a drawing. What do you think of 
 that? I haven't put it down yet, because I don't
 
 276 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 want to put any thing down that we're not pretty 
 sure of." 
 
 This wise regard for the necessity of having all evi- 
 dence weighed, and judgment and deliberation used, in 
 whatever they did for a science so exact as philology, 
 met Gaston's approbation, too, who said at once, " Oh, 
 no ! it wouldn't do." The conscientiousness of our 
 young friends will be gratifying to men with the true 
 scholarly instinct, who know what Gaston and Brade 
 perhaps never thought of, that the happiness, if not 
 the lives of some hundreds of persons (philologists) is 
 depending upon that science's being not hastily nor 
 easily developed. 
 
 "Water-colors! water-colors! Has that got any 
 thing to do with it, do you suppose?" said Gaston. 
 " It can't, though, can it ? That only means mixed in 
 water." 
 
 " Come, Anty ! " said Remsen, with a tone of good- 
 natured indulgence, " don't find any more ; and when 
 you've been up, and got through, we'll go out." 
 
 The papers were gathered together, the books shut, 
 the transparency taken down, and then, apportioning 
 a load for each, they went forth and locked Mr. Ham- 
 ersley's recitation-room, the scene of hopeful and suc- 
 cessful work, behind them. 
 
 " Perhaps, some of these days, they'll say it was done 
 in there," said Brade, as many a discoverer or inventor 
 has said, with his lips or in his heart. " You'll go, too, 
 Gaston ? " he asked, taking Remsen's going for granted ; 
 and Gaston assented, only insisting that Brade should 
 be spokesman. 
 
 As the little procession approached the Rector's 
 door, Antony's heart began to feel more and more
 
 ON THE SEA OF PHILOLOGY. 277 
 
 strongly, perhaps, the greatness and the boldness of 
 their venture, for he began to lag. Gaston, however, 
 showed no apprehensions, and after a word or two, 
 to keep his more bashful comrade up to the purpose, 
 went straight up to the door of the Rector's study, 
 and knocked. 
 
 There was no answering sound. He knocked again : 
 there was no answer, still. Gaston began to laugh, 
 Remsen to caper, and Brade, raising his head from 
 listening, came forward, and Remsen followed. 
 
 " The Captain isn't in," said Nicholas. " Now, let's 
 be off." 
 
 Gaston, who was at home in any circumstances, flung 
 out his arm, and took an attitude. " ' No hope of gilded 
 spurs, to-day ! ' " he said, like an orator ; " ' O spein 
 falla !" : when suddenly the study-door opened, 
 and the Head of the School stood smiling at Gaston's 
 attitude and the expressions of the group, and then 
 invited them in. This introduction took off a good 
 deal from the solemnity of the occasion, but it also put 
 Brade at his ease ; and Brade was not only the bearer 
 of the treasures of learning and intelligence contained 
 in their papers, but was the chief author of them. 
 
 Gaston was not a bit abashed, and at once mentioned 
 the purpose of the party, beginning with an explanation 
 of the circumstances in which they had been found at 
 the moment of the opening of the door. 
 
 "We thought you weren't in, sir," he said, smiling as 
 he thought of it, " and so we were just beginning to 
 express ourselves" 
 
 " Pretty well done, I thought, so far as I heard and 
 saw," said Mr. Warren ; and, having seated them com- 
 fortably, asked, " And what now ? "
 
 278 ANTONY BRAVE. 
 
 "Brade," said Gaston, continuing to be spokesman, 
 " has got something he wanted to show you, sir. We 
 boys talk over the meanings of words sometimes, and 
 we thought we'd found out a few things that looked 
 right to us. We wanted to show them to you before 
 we did any more." 
 
 During this speech, Antony maybe supposed to have 
 been sitting in a state of trembling eagerness and ap- 
 prehension also ; and, as the Rector turned to him, 
 he got up, and modestly offered the manuscript. There 
 was no great deal of it as yet in amount ; but it was 
 evident, to a glance, that , what was there was made 
 very plain upon the paper, in clear, fair letters. 
 
 "Some more of our Greek, Antony?" the Rector 
 asked, as he took the paper. 
 
 " All sorts of languages, sir," said Brade : " I mean 
 different languages we're learning, two or three." 
 
 " Oh, ho ! " said the Rector, " we start with Sanscrit, 
 do we ? That's pretty far up." 
 
 Neither Antony nor Gaston offered a word, leaving 
 him to inform himself, as he would in a moment when 
 he began to read. 
 
 Mr. Warren read, and, as he read, he smiled. Gaston 
 began to smile contagiously. Antony began to blush 
 all over. The Rector looked up. 
 
 "Did you ever see Dean Swift's fun about Greek," 
 he asked Gaston, " where he says that 'Andromache' 
 was the daughter of an honest Scotsman named Andrew 
 Mackay, and kept his name; and 'Pygmalion' was 
 really Pigmy-lion, because he was a wonderfully brave 
 little fellow ; and so on ? " 
 
 Gaston, who, as we have seen, had a turn for those 
 things, and was not altogether blind to fun, even where
 
 ON THE SEA OF PHILOLOGY. 279 
 
 it made against himself, pricked up his ears at this, and 
 laughed, while he confessed that he had never read 
 Dean Swift. As for Antony, his face showed a mixture 
 of feelings ; for, while he smiled for ' Pigmy-lion ' and 
 ' Andrew-Mackay,' he looked as if he did not yet know 
 whether his own house of words had been blown down 
 or not, and was not quite content. 
 
 " I think you've got some pretty good things here," 
 said the Rector, encouragingly. " You've made a 
 capital beginning." Then, seeing the expression of 
 B rade's face, he added, "Why, beginners in science pick 
 up pebbles and clam-shells. You've done better." 
 
 " Some of it was half fun," said Brade, " and some of 
 it " (looking round at the others) " we thought might 
 be something, possibly. We didn't know." 
 
 " Well, I'd keep on with it : it's very good practice. 
 There's one thing you didn't think of here. Sanscrit, 
 you know, is a written language " (Brade blushed 
 more than ever, and his head went down a little, in 
 spite of himself; for, as the reader knows, the boys' 
 definition of Sanscrit was one of their strongest points ; 
 but a smile came out at the corners of his mouth) ; "in 
 fact," continued the Rector, "as thoroughly written 
 up and written down as any language ever was : but, 
 while you were about it, trying to make something out 
 of the name, I wonder you didn't get in ' Sauct-script, 
 sant-scrit, san-scrit,' because it's the sacred language 
 of the Hindus." 
 
 "Is that it ?" asked Gaston. "We didn't think of 
 that," said Brade ; but both looked encouraged, as if 
 they had been feeling in the right direction, after all. 
 
 "No: I believe it means 'perfect,' or polished,' or 
 something of that sort, really," said the Caput.
 
 280 ANTONY BBADE. 
 
 " That dishes our definition, sir, pretty well," said 
 Gaston. 
 
 " I hope to see something more of you, in this line, 
 yet," said the Rector : " as any thing turns up in your 
 lessons or in the lexicon, put it down, by all means." 
 
 So here the philologists took their leave, and brought 
 away their papers. Once fairly out of hearing, they 
 stopped to consult. 
 
 " We weren't so bad, after all, were we ? " said 
 Gaston. " Live and learn. I'm rather proud of that 
 'Sanscrit:' the Cap did something like it, that wa'n't 
 much better. I think we've come off pretty well for a 
 beginning." And now three pairs of nimble feet were 
 skurrying downstairs.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 A FIELD-DAY OF THE TRUSTEES. 
 
 ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S School had no endowment but its 
 buildings, most of which it had paid for itself already. 
 
 This fall, an announcement had appeared in the pa- 
 pers " that Thomas Parmenter, Esq., of Eastham, had 
 begun a system of graduated endowment" in St. Bar- 
 tholomew's School in that town ; and, as he wished to 
 benefit by the wisdom and experience of others, he 
 would be glad of communications from persons familiar 
 with the subject of higher education and the operation 
 of endowments. This piece of information was worded 
 in much the same way in different papers in which it 
 appeared, as any inquiring man, who read different 
 newspaper^, could easily assure himself. It was, in 
 substance, taken from a sort of circular letter which 
 the originator had sent to faculties of colleges, to heads 
 of schools, and to eminent literary men and scholars. 
 
 Of course, this publication and Mr. Parmenter's ac- 
 tion were early known in Eastham. In the first place, 
 the Trustees of St. Bart's School had been officially 
 notified of the munificent disposition of their fellow- 
 member, and had convened at the School, in tmusual 
 numbers ; Mr. Parmenter's carriage having gone ten 
 miles to bring Judge Pearson, who was hard to get. 
 This meeting had received an explanation of his plan
 
 282 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 from its author in person; his purpose being, as he 
 explained it, to endow by instalments. " For this rea- 
 son," he said, "he had used the word 'graduated.' 
 There were dangers in too sudden inflation by very 
 large endowments ; and there was, at least, safety in 
 endowing by degrees or step by step, as he believed 
 (in deference to classical scholars who were present) the 
 word ' graduated ' implied." 
 
 At this appeal to classical scholars, Mr. Manson 
 said, in an aside, " I'm afraid that word ' graduated ' 
 often implies very partially endowed, indeed, chiefly 
 endowed by their degrees." The members of the 
 Board generally smiled ; and Mr. Parmenter, having 
 accepted the interruption with a smiling bow, began 
 again : 
 
 " It wouldn't do for him to question the attainments 
 of college-men ; he took it for granted that they were 
 all learned, as Shakspeare, he believed, said, ' all 
 honorable men.' Possibly, too, the Trustees would 
 pardon in- him, as a man of business, a natural anxiety 
 to see to the operation of his own plan, and to help in 
 the administration of it." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter then informed the Board that " Mr. 
 Don, who was one of their number, would, he was 
 sure, do him the favor to furnish any explanation which 
 might be desirable for the action of the Board, while 
 
 O ' 
 
 he himself withdrew, in order to leave their consulta- 
 tion quite unembarrassed. He was aware that the 
 question of endowment was not perfectly simple. There 
 were evils to be guarded against. Endowments some- 
 times checked the spontaneous flow of liberality, were 
 sometimes a hindrance to life and progress, and occa- 
 sionally furnished incentives to extravagance. Perhaps
 
 A FIELD-DAY OF THE TRUSTEES. 283 
 
 he would be pardoned for using an illustration from his 
 experience in the country. The Trustees were aware 
 that he had devoted himself a good deal to the in- 
 terests of the country, and, among other things, to the 
 development of agriculture, indeed, from early life, 
 tie had been more or less practically familiar with agri- 
 culture. Now, he had had occasion, in connection 
 with agriculture, to use guano, as well as other kinds 
 of manure ; and he had observed that, while the manure 
 helped the development of good crops, it helped the 
 development of weeds too. He would here leave the 
 matter, asking the indulgence of the Trustees for 
 having occupied them so long, and referring to his 
 friend Mr. Don for any information which might be 
 needed in his own absence." 
 
 He then took his hat, and withdrew ; and the Trus- 
 tees had the matter before them, after a grave set of 
 vibrations from different members of the Board in 
 returning Mr. Parmenter's parting salutation. 
 
 There was the very moderate-sized and large-man- 
 nered Dr. Farwell, with one long-necked, sober-looking, 
 white-cravatted man; one short and squat man, in 
 white cravat ; several respectable gentlemen not notice- 
 able for their dress ; and one perhaps as likely to catch 
 the eye of a stranger as any, the hearty, wholesome- 
 looking Mr. Manson, who, partly behind the capacious 
 chair-back which rose above Dr. Farwell's head, was 
 reading, and with a pencil making notes. The life 
 of this organized Board soon began to show itself 
 after its manner. 
 
 " The first motion in order, I suppose," said the 
 long-necked serious clergyman. 
 
 "I think, myself," said the Reverend Dr. Farwell,
 
 284 ANTONY BEADS. 
 
 beginning in a tone, slow, measured, and important, 
 which implied keeping on, "that we have arrived 
 at an important era I think we may, perhaps, fairly 
 call it AN ERA in the affairs of this School. The 
 communication which has just been laid before us, as 
 a Board, strikes my mind I don't know how it may 
 strike other members of the Board, but, I confess, it 
 strikes my mind as what may be the inauguration 
 I will use the word ' inauguration ' for want of a better 
 the inauguration of a GUEAT DAY ! " (This last ex- 
 pression was pronounced with strong emphasis.) " The 
 general question of endowments particular endow- 
 ments, profuse endowments I am not at this moment 
 prepared to go into myself; but I think we can't be 
 mistaken in regarding this benefaction as an accession 
 of just so much power and force to this School." 
 
 " Yes," said a gentleman opposite with a face some- 
 what like that of a reflective racoon, though with much 
 more solid whiskers : " five thousand dollars is five 
 thousand dollars ; " and he relaxed the gravity of his 
 face, with a smile, for that expressed the thing, and 
 implied that the speaker knew more than that. 
 
 " I agree with Mr. Pettie," said the short and stout 
 clergyman, as if he, too, understood that thing about as 
 well as anybody: "five thousand dollars is five thousand 
 dollars." 
 
 " There is more involved in this case than that," said 
 a thoughtful gentleman, taking off gold spectacles and 
 holding them in his hand. " I don't wish to interfere 
 with any expression of opinion, or the offering of any 
 motion ; but, if agreeable to all the members of the 
 Board, I should like to call upon Mr. Don for an ex- 
 planation of the plan proposed."
 
 A FIELD-DAT OF THE TRUSTEES. 285 
 
 The President bowed, saying that the suggestion 
 seemed a very reasonable one. 
 
 Mr. Don assured the meeting that "it would give 
 him much satisfaction to comply with Judge Allen's re- 
 quest ; " and the general silence indicated that every- 
 body present agreed with him. Dr. Farwell, seeing 
 an occasion to give to that silence fitting expression, 
 said : 
 
 " Undoubtedly he spoke for himself it was emi- 
 nently proper, before any action was taken, that they 
 should have the case in its length, and in its breadth, 
 and in all its dimensions, before them, that they might 
 act understandingly." 
 
 When Dr. Farwell had thus put himself in the 
 proper attitude to the business, Mr. Don began : 
 
 "It had been (he believed) the intention of Mr. 
 Parrnenter until diverted, perhaps, by a suggestion 
 of his own (the speaker's) to give a full explanation 
 of his plan to the Trustees in person. The suggestion 
 referred to was one made by himself, without premedi- 
 tation, a mere thought of the moment, that the 
 Trustees would like to testify by some action their 
 appreciation of his liberality. This was simply his 
 own natural feeling. Mr. Parmenter's explanation to 
 himself had been brief. As he understood Mr. Par- 
 raenter, the plan was to endow with five thousand dol- 
 lars now, and, after an interval, with five thousand 
 dollars more ; after another interval, five thousand 
 dollars more ; and so on. How long it was to go on, 
 he could not say." 
 
 There was a pause, and, in the silence, a gentleman 
 who had not yet spoken, but who seemed as if he had a 
 good deal to say, inquired :
 
 286 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " Do we understand, then, that five thousand dollars 
 is already presented, is already in hand ? That is part 
 of the statement, I think? I wish simply to put the 
 thing into shape." 
 
 " Certainly, sir," answered Mr. Don ; then, being 
 familiar with propriety and parliamentary usage, turning 
 to the President, he said, " If I may reply to Judge 
 Pearson," and received a bow from the presiding officer. 
 Then he proceeded, " I should say, in the absence of the 
 Treasurer, that that amount, or its equivalent, is in the 
 Treasurer's hands." 
 
 "It is in the Treasurer's hands, sir, at this moment?" 
 repeated Judge Pearson, blandly. 
 
 "Yes, sir, so I understand, some days ago," said 
 Mr. Don. 
 
 " That seems to be conclusive, upon that point," said 
 the Reverend Doctor Farwell. 
 
 " Then I should like to inquire if there is no ob- 
 jection, and if I'm not taking the place of any other 
 gentleman," said the Honorable ex-Judge Allen, "for 
 the purpose of laying the subject still further open, 
 whether the principal or the interest is available for the 
 School." 
 
 " The interest, sir," said Mr. Don : " the principal is 
 part of a permanent fund." 
 
 " Then," said the Reverend Doctor Farwell, who had 
 a faculty for knowing just when he ought to speak, " the 
 case, as I understand it, is in this way : The principal 
 of five thousand dollars or five thousand dollars 
 is in fund ; is, to all intents and purposes, the com- 
 mencement of a fund, which fund is to be increased. 
 The interest of the five thousand dollars is to be used 
 for the School, as it comes in."
 
 A FIELD-DAY OF THE TRUSTEES. 287 
 
 " Will the gentleman," said Judge Allen, as soon as 
 Dr. Fanvell had put things into a shape satisfactory to 
 himself, " pardon my asking one farther question : I 
 wish to know the conditions attached to the donation ; 
 or whether the interest is placed unreservedly at the 
 disposal of the Trustees." 
 
 " As I understand," said Mr. Don, in answer, " there 
 are no conditions whatever, except the general condi- 
 tion that the interest of the fund shall be devoted to 
 the payment of the teachers of Saint Bartholomew's 
 School." 
 
 " That seems to settle the matter," said the long and 
 serious-looking clergyman, who had not sat impatiently 
 under the interruption of Dr. Farwell and the rest, but 
 had entertained himself partially, in the mean time, by 
 side-talk with different persons near him till his time 
 should come. "Whenever the Board is ready for rny 
 motion, I am ready to put it." 
 
 " It will be proper, I suppose, to accept the endow- 
 ment formally, and to thank the donor," said Judge 
 Allen. 
 
 " Without passing judgment upon the plan of oc- 
 casional endowment, which is only partially before us," 
 said Judge Pearson. 
 
 " What we've got, we've got," said Mr. Pettie, with a 
 smile. 
 
 "But expressing our willingness to take a few 
 more of the same sort," said Dr. Buttonn (whose name 
 we write with a second ' n,' to suggest its own pronun- 
 ciation). 
 
 " My motion " said the clergyman, who had waited 
 BO long. 
 
 " I cannot feel willing," said Dr. Farwell, senten-
 
 288 > ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 tiously, "I am decidedly unwilling to allow this subject 
 to pass to a vote without " 
 
 " We haven't any thing to vote upon yet," said the 
 mover. " My motion " 
 
 "I will wait for Mr. Merritt's motion," said Dr. 
 Farwell, " of course." 
 
 " My motion is," said Mr. Merritt, reading, " ' That the 
 Trustees accept, with much satisfaction, the munificent 
 gift of T. Parmenter, Esq., one of their number, and 
 place upon record their grateful appreciation of the 
 same ; that the Clerk be directed to forward a copy of 
 this resolution to Mr. Parmenter,' simply a formal 
 resolution of acknowledgment. We can now consider 
 the matter, and take such action as we may see fit." 
 
 "Whatever action the gentlemen may take will, of 
 course, be agreeable to me," said Judge Allen, putting 
 on his coat, which he had left on a chair. " I shall be 
 obliged to excuse myself." 
 
 Judge Pearson, too, "had engagements, and would 
 be glad of Judge Allen's company ; " and so the two 
 ex-judges took their leave. 
 
 " I was merely going to say," said Dr. Farwell, begin- 
 ing another speech, with something of his large manner, 
 and gaining more of it as he went on, " and I am glad 
 to have an opportunity of giving expression to my de- 
 cided conviction that this day may prove a turning- 
 point in the history of our School. Already, without 
 help, and under the excellent management of the 
 Rector of the School, we are paying our way, and 
 more, we are more than paying our way, I suppose 
 I might say, we are prosperous, without endowment. 
 Now we shall be able to do more " (emphatic) " than 
 we could before " (emphatic).
 
 A FIELD-DAY OF THE TRUSTEES. 289 
 
 Tliis was a good place to stop at; and, at this place, 
 Mr. Manson, who had kept himself quietly occupied 
 with his book and pencil until the judges, by going 
 away, had left the burden of debate and deliberation to 
 be borne by fewer members, said : 
 
 " Verse again : ' Do more, Than we could before.' 
 That's like your rhyme upon the Trustees." 
 
 Whether Dr. Farwell would have taken with per- 
 fect equanimity this obstruction to the flow of his 
 speech, if there had not been in it the reference to his 
 former success in a still higher department of letters, 
 we will not say ; but, as it was, he at once, with a wave 
 of the hand, disposed of the rest of his speech: 
 
 "That was all that I think it necessary to say; "and then 
 turned, smiling pleasantly, to his neighbor, and said, 
 
 " This, of course, was nothing : that was an accident, 
 and was entirely unintentional, unpremeditated. I 
 wasn't conscious, at the time of making that rhyme 
 (there it is again), that 1 was saying any thing more 
 than plain prose, the plainest prose. You know, of 
 course, I didn't mean to call that poetry ; but (you're a 
 literary man) did it ever occur to you that poetry might 
 not be confined to a few, the Sacra Vates, (what was 
 it we used to learn in our Horace ?) but was rather 
 appropriated to certain states of mind " (with a very 
 definite emphasis, for the doctor had thought these 
 things over), " states of exaltation ? So that we're 
 poets, just as we're eloquent, under what you may call 
 an exaltation of the faculties. You're a poet when you 
 feel lofty emotions. You're an orator the same way. I 
 don't know whether this ever occurred to you so ; but 
 it seems to me often that I could be a poet, that I 
 wanted only ' the divine afflatus,' the breathing." 
 13 s
 
 290 ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 " It seems A T ery probable," said Mr. Manson. "As an 
 editor, I should say that was all that was wanting with 
 most of our contributors." 
 
 " I never tried it on a large scale," continued Dr. 
 Farwell, sententiously, as usual ; " but I suppose that a 
 man does it when he's in the state to do it. You put 
 water into one condition, and it freezes : you put it 
 into another, and it boils. You put a man into the 
 condition, and he's a poet." (Here the vote was taken, 
 and Dr. Farwell interrupted himself long enough to 
 say " ay," and then continued.) " That idea struck me 
 so forcibly that I wrote a sermon on that subject once, 
 ' All Scripture is given by inspiration/ first show- 
 ing the general meaning of ' scripture ' (writing)." 
 
 " Mr. Don is coming with a proposition," said Mr. 
 Manson, and so lost (if he had never heard it before) 
 a summary of that discourse; for the speaker recovered 
 himself easily from his flight, and alighted in silence 
 among the discussions of the Trustees of St. Bartholo- 
 mew's School. 
 
 " I had in mind, sir," said Mr. Don, who had not been 
 in the Legislature for nothing, '' that it seems proper 
 to make some substantial recognition of the liberality 
 which has been announced to us, something more than 
 a passing vote of thanks. I know that it is not uncom- 
 mon to do it, in a lasting way. There's the Hemingway 
 Classical Institute and the Phillips Exeter Academy, 
 and others of that character." 
 
 " How would you propose to do in our case ? " in- 
 quired Dr. Farwell. " ' Pai-menter's St. Bartholomew's* 
 or ' St. Bartholomew's Parmenter's ' would be a little 
 harsh, wouldn't it?" 
 
 " Somebody else may give us five thousand dollars,"
 
 A FIELD-DAY OF THE TRUSTEES. 291 
 
 said Dr. Btittonn, with a smile. " I don't object : I 
 only think that we may be put to inconvenience if we 
 undertake to name the School after every donor. I 
 don't object." 
 
 " Couldn't we make it understood," asked Mr. Mer- 
 ritt, smiling, " that we'll adopt anybody's name that'll 
 give us so many thousand dollars, and put the sum 
 pretty well up ? " 
 
 " Of course," said Mr. Pettie, " a prospective endow- 
 ment isn't an endowment in hand." 
 
 " Suppose we adopt a system of graduated naming," 
 said Mr. Manson, " at ten thousand dollars a letter, or 
 twenty thousand, beginning with the Christian name ?" 
 
 " All this perhaps, which is only intended for fun, is 
 very well," said Dr. Farwell, with a genial smile. " I 
 should be sorry to check the flow of fun : it wouldn't 
 be good for boys, it wouldn't be good for men. I'm 
 inclined to join in it, I'm inclined to make it at proper 
 times ; but it is not business. As Beauregard, or who- 
 ever he was, at Balaklava, said of the charge of the 
 Six Hundred (I'm no Frenchman ; indeed, I'm pretty 
 much an Englishman about French) : ' Say magnific, 
 but non la gare,* it isn't war.' Is there any further 
 business ? If there is not, I think we may as well be 
 going about our own business." 
 
 Mr. Merritt, during Dr. FarwelFs modest utterance 
 of his quotation from Bulaklava, had slyly remarked to 
 Dr. Buttonn that " \vh;it was not French in it was 
 pretty good English, which was probably better than 
 their Mr. Sabot-Roquelaire would have done." 
 
 * A sentence mucli like this of Dr. Farwell's, in sound, is said 
 to have been uttered by Marshal Canrobert : " C'est magnifique; 
 mais ce u'est pas la guerre."
 
 292 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 This criticism Dr. Farwell overheard, and answered 
 good-naturedly : 
 
 " Don't you meddle with my French ! it's the French 
 of the Academy." 
 
 " Yes, you'd have learned better, in College," said 
 Mr. Merritt, facetiously. 
 
 While this little by-play was going on, other members 
 of the Board were engaged in conversation. There 
 was by this time a general readiness of the Trustees to 
 adjourn, when Mr. Don, saying that he saw the diffi- 
 culties about the name, suggested that there might be 
 some other way in which the Board could testify its 
 appreciation. 
 
 " You've voted to thank Mr. Parmenter," said Mr. 
 Pettie. " That's a beginning." 
 
 "If you do too much for one, you'll never be able 
 to encourage anybody else," said Dr. Buttonn ; " but I 
 don't object to any thing, I only make that sug- 
 gestion." 
 
 " As I understand it, sir," said Mr. Don, holding 
 faithfully to his purpose, " Mr. Parmenter is beginning 
 a series of endowments" 
 
 " You might combine two things in this way," said 
 Mr. Pettie. " The boys have a ' Pro-St.-Bart's-Day,' 
 in December, because St. Bartholomew's comes iu 
 Vacation : you can have something special, on that 
 day. Mr. Don tells me Mr. Parmenter's birthday 
 comes about that time. You might put 'em together." 
 
 " That would be a very proper subject for future con- 
 sideration," said Dr. Farwell, and, with general assent, 
 the Trustees rose and adjourned.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 MB. DON CALLS UPON MR. PARMENTER, ON 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 NEAR the top of one of the most eminent hills, and 
 just in the middle of Eastham, commanding a wide 
 view in all directions, was a large and very architectural- 
 looking house, which, as any one could tell you, was Mr. 
 Parmenter's. This gentleman our readers have already 
 met ; and to this house we shift for a while the scene 
 of our story, because Mr. Parmenter is not only a great 
 man in Eastham, and has a good deal to say and do in 
 town affairs, but also, as has been seen, carries great 
 weight in the affairs of St. Bart's School, and influences, 
 moreover, the fortunes of our Antony Brade. It is in 
 the forenoon of one of those fine days that make the 
 fall in New England the loveliest season of the world's 
 year. 
 
 A flag-staff went up from the top of the roof into 
 upper air, from which was commonly flying, in the lat- 
 ter part of the day, a red flag, with an angular device 
 of some sort, which the neighbors differently explained. 
 " Old Uncle Nat Burrows," at the foot of the hill (very 
 often to be found, in pleasant weather, leaning on his 
 stick, at his front gate), would say that " Tom Parmen- 
 ter was jes' like a boy about that : 's quick's ever he got 
 home from his store, he set to work an' histed that
 
 294 ANTONY BRADE 
 
 thingumy, to let folks know he was there, the way 
 they did at the State House ; " but what device it bore 
 neither he nor any one near him would pretend to say, 
 with certainty, most of the neighbors having settled 
 it that " it was some nonsense ; " and Mr. Chambers, the 
 carpenter, who had done " a sight of work in that house, 
 first and last," saying that he " didn't know, but had 
 always thought it was a square." 
 
 A short way went straight and steeply up in some 
 places by stone steps let into the sod to a little flat, 
 in front of the house; while a carriage-road wound 
 up, with easy and leisurely bend, to the same place. 
 The house had a great arch-way through the middle, 
 from front to back, and had plenty of windows in front, 
 and chimneys atop. 
 
 On both sides of the archway were verandas whose 
 floors were continuous with opposite platforms inside 
 the arch, on each of which opened handsome doors, 
 one from its size and style, evidently, the main 
 entrance. 
 
 Up the side-path to this house, that day, the reader's 
 friend, Mr. Don, had climbed, with some loss of breath 
 and weariness of legs, if one might interpret his atti- 
 tude and gait, as he stooped over, with his hand at 
 his side, after getting to the gravelled flat before the 
 house. 
 
 " ' Ah ! who can tell how hard it is to climb 
 The heights where Fame's proud pinnacle ' " 
 
 he uttered, as he could catch breath. 
 
 " Allow me to correct you, sir," said Mr. Parmenter, 
 who was opportunely in front of his archway, at the 
 moment: "'The height Avhere Fame's proud temple
 
 MR. DON CALLS ON MR. PARMENTER. 295 
 
 shines afar.' I'm familiar with that stanza, for I print 
 a very large edition of it every year, you know." 
 
 " No : you surprise me, sir," answered Mr. Don, re 
 covering his wind, and speaking a little like books of 
 the last century. " I wasn't aware of it, sir. I reiuem 
 bered the verse (or stanza), from the girls speaking it, 
 at school, when I was a boy. You publish, then ? " 
 
 " Yes, in connection with my business, I publish a 
 large edition of " Standard Selections from the Poets." 
 
 " Certainly a very desirable thing, sir, to have your 
 productions associated with the flower of our litera- 
 ture. As I frequently say, I can compare your situa- 
 tion here to nothing but a lord of the manor ; that is, 
 just about my ideal of what a lord of the manor would 
 be." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter loked verymodest at this compli- 
 ment, and, turning, instinctively glanced over the front 
 of his house, architectural and capacious, and answered, 
 with befitting self-depreciation : 
 
 " In a small way, only, sir, I'm afraid. We can't 
 have the reality, here." 
 
 Mr. Don had followed the direction of the owner's 
 eyes, and in looking upward caught the slow waving 
 of the emblematic flag (of which, indeed, if he had 
 known or remembered the habits of great families 
 abroad, he might have made good use in the carrying- 
 out of his comparison of Mr. Parmenter's position to 
 theirs), and found in it matter for conversation and 
 compliment. 
 
 " That flno- is a great convenience. I had a little 
 
 ~ j 
 
 business, and I knew I should find you at home. One 
 of your neighbors, sir, with whom I was talking as I 
 came, asked me what that figure was on it, I couldn't
 
 296 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 tell him. It had never occurred to me to ask. If you 
 were a druggist, I should say a hand and a pestle, sir. 
 Connected with ' Melitrech ' ? A very good device (or 
 whatever it's called) : ' Melitrech ' helped to build the 
 house, I suppose ? " 
 
 " No : that comes from a different source," said Mr. 
 Parmenter, seriously. " My relation to my, neighbors 
 and the town and Saint Bartholomew's School 
 is such that there may be a little curiosity to know some 
 circumstances about my family, a little more than 
 just ' he lived and died! ' There has been a proposition 
 to secure my portrait by Rose, the eminent artist, for 
 the Town Hall " (" I'm not surprised at it, sir," said 
 Mr. Don), " and," continued Mr. Parmenter, " I suppose 
 I shall be obliged to yield to the pressure, ultimately. 
 That's the result generally, I believe, in such cases. I 
 believe we generally yield." 
 
 This plural pronoun which he turned off so lightly 
 might represent the human race at large, or that upper 
 rank of it, the heroic, a sight of whom or of whose 
 photographs so many long to see. 
 
 " I'm ass-ured that the name is of some note : French, 
 I think, in very early times, Parlementer. You see 
 the French, 'parley,' ' parlez-vous,' ' Parliament,' ' Par- 
 menter.' Mr. Merritt knows French, and has taken 
 some trouble about it : I haven't given much time to 
 those things." 
 
 Mr. Don's face had assumed an expression of good- 
 natured amusement, which gained strength, and became 
 more and more pronounced, as the speaker went on ; 
 but when Mr. Parmenter stopped, and looked inquir- 
 ingly at his smiling visitant, Mr. Don hastened to re- 
 move any thought of incivility :
 
 MR. DON CALLS ON MR. PARMENTER. 297 
 
 " Pardon me, sir," he said. " I was thinking you 
 might well say your pennon (if that's the word) was 
 not ' pestle-lential ; '" and it was evident that it was 
 only the fun of this joke, within him, which had put 
 him into such merry humor, in spite of himself. 
 
 His host accepted the explanation, pleasantly, ex- 
 plaining that the device was one which Dr. Farwell 
 had found in a book, and was a hand flourishing a 
 scroll ; and this gave Mr. Don an opportunity to use 
 that vein of ready Avit and compliment which is seldom 
 at a loss in this world : 
 
 "Every thing flourishes with you, sir, I believe," said 
 he. 
 
 " That might be a little too much to say, perhaps," 
 answered Mr. Parmenter, modestly ; and here, like a 
 man of business, he left off his dissertation on the 
 probable eminence of his family, among the early 
 French, and turned to other things : 
 
 " Oh ! I see," he said, " about the flag. Yes : I didn't 
 go to the city. I was contriving a little improve- 
 ment here." (" I think you're never satisfied without 
 perfection," said Mr. Don.) " I want," continued Mr. 
 Parmenter, " to put something in the style of a plat- 
 form-balance here, that will throw up a draw-bridge, 
 under the arch, when a carriage comes upon it." ( u Very 
 ingenious, truly," said Mr. Don: "we can always learn 
 something, by coming up to Mount Fairfield.") " Then, 
 you see, with my draw-bridge down, anybody can walk 
 across from one side to the other, without being obliged 
 to touch the ground at all. Then, when a carriage 
 drives up, it comes upon the platform ; the draw-bridge 
 is lifted and caught by a self-acting hold, or spring. 
 Walk in, sir," and, leading his visitor up stone steps 
 13*
 
 298 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 under the arch-way, he ushered that polite person, who 
 made several bows, and uttered several compliments, 
 in undergoing the treatment, into the chief door of 
 what the proprietor called, as he opened it, " Fail-field 
 House." 
 
 " It wants a lady of the manor, sir, does it not, to 
 make it complete?" said Mr. Don, modestly, though 
 possibly not for the first time. " There are some 
 charming housekeepers, I understand, in Eastham, and 
 of course plenty of them in other places. I did hear 
 that Mrs. Osborn was likely to be the favored one." 
 
 " Perhaps they wouldn't come," said Mr. Parmenter, 
 smiling serenely around upon the furnishing of his 
 house. 
 
 " I've no fear of that, sir," said Mr. Don. " You have 
 but to ask, I think." Then, without impatience to press 
 the " business " which he had mentioned, he left the 
 subject of a lady for the house. " I believe, sir, I never 
 come into this room without thinking of some of the 
 apartments in the noble mansions abroad. This was 
 always a particular favorite of mine," he said, setting 
 himself before a picture on the wall, in which was a 
 hooded face, with a good deal of blue and some dark- 
 red drapery. " It may not be finer than many others 
 in your gallery, I call it, sir, I don't know whether 
 I am technically right, but there's a religious repose, 
 to my eye, about this " 
 
 " That's counted very fine, sir ; though I have several 
 as fine, or finer," said the owner, letting his eyes wander 
 over the richly framed treasures on his walls. " I think 
 I've often called your attention to this," waving with 
 his hand, and leading up to a corner of the room, where 
 heavy silken cords and tassels were arranged, as he
 
 MR. DON CALLS ON MS. PARMENTER. 299 
 
 showed, to draw and draw back a heavy silk-damask 
 curtain, so as to let in more or less light upon a fresh- 
 hued painting in which some pretty beings nymphs, 
 or sylphs, or fairies, merry and roguish-looking 
 were blowing, with fanciful and be-ribboned bellows, 
 on rosebuds and buds of morning-glories, which were 
 opening, at the breath. A good deal of really life-like 
 and comely drawing and coloring had been put into 
 this fanciful extravagance. 
 
 " A very happy conceit, sir, you observe, It's called 
 < The mowing of the Flowers.' " 
 
 " And yet I think (if you'll allow me, sir) you're not 
 conceited" said Mr. Don, emphasizing just so much, 
 and smiling just so much as was becoming to a man 
 who felt that he could, and wanted others'to feel that 
 he could, make a very neat joke without any appear- 
 ance of effort. " I have often admired this painting, 
 sir. I think, with you, that it's a very happy conceit, all 
 but the word 'blowing,' which strikes me as a little 
 ordinary. Doesn't it strike you so ? " 
 
 "WORCESTER, sir, I believe," said Mr. Parmenter, 
 like one who could quote authorities. 
 
 "I should suppose 'bloom" 1 was the more elegant 
 English," said Mr. Don, like one who, for his part, had a 
 choice in such things, and knew how to use our tongue. 
 
 " It's Worcester, sir. Mi\ Merritt objected a little, 
 too ; but I satisfied him." 
 
 Now Mr. Don saw a favorable opening for his busi- 
 ness, and mentioned it again. Mr. Parmenter accord- 
 ingly l.ed the way to a smaller room, which he pronounced 
 to be his ' Study.' He did not, however, omit to say, 
 as he passed a tall rosewood stand, on which, in the 
 middle of a purple-velvet cushion, lay a very black and
 
 300 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 somewhat odd-looking fiddle. " This is probably the 
 gem of my collection, a genuine Stradivarius, 
 a Cremona of the sixteenth century, one of the only 
 five known to exist in the world." 
 
 " I'm aware, sir ; but it's all lost upon me, I'm sorry 
 to say. I've no music in my soul, sir. Somehow, it was 
 left out. The business on which I came," continued 
 Mr. Don, as they seated themselves near a large desk in 
 Mr. Parmenter's "study," in the presence of an inkstand, 
 a broad, open dictionary, an illustrated almanac, a 
 Prayer-book, and a Bible, which gave a literary cast to 
 the room, " is partly public, and partly personal to your- 
 self. You mentioned, if you remember, the custom of 
 having some public recognition of those who have made 
 great endowments ; and you thought it might be as well, 
 in your case, to wait for the future, till after your de- 
 mise. I found myself unable to agree with you, sir ; 
 and the more I have reflected on it, the more it seems 
 to me eminently appropriate that it should be done 
 now. The living example, sir, to my mind, is a great 
 thing ; and I think you should be willing to waive per- 
 sonal feelings for the sake of principle, as I make no 
 doubt you would." 
 
 " I'll do any thing that's thought best, if I approve 
 of it" said Mr. Parmenter, in a business-like tone ; and 
 he looked into the blaze of the fire. Then he turned to 
 Mr. Don, with a smile, and added : 
 
 " I won't do any thing I don't approve of." 
 
 " What I should propose and I think it would meet 
 the views of the other Trustees would be to have a 
 celebration by the School, on some particular day, 
 your birthday, for example " 
 
 Mr. Parmenter sat, not as if taken by surprise, although
 
 MB. DON CALLS ON MB. PAEMENTER. 301 
 
 it seems always possible, in such cases, to take great 
 men by surprise. 
 
 "How does the suggestion strike you, sir?" asked 
 Mr. Don, after waiting for some expression. 
 
 Mr. Parmenter left his abstraction. 
 
 " I think," said he, " a proposition of that sort will 
 keep ; " and he smiled pleasantly. " There's no hurry 
 about doing me honor ; " and he stroked his face with 
 his broad hand. 
 
 Mr. Don was not to be easily moved from his purpose. 
 
 " That's your way of looking at it, sir : I must take 
 leave to differ. It isn't every day that a man gives 
 five thousand dollars to endow tutorships in a school, 
 at any rate, our school has never had any such bene- 
 factions. The question of a proper name, or title, has 
 been raised," he went on, as if the first point was by 
 this time pretty well disposed of: " how would ' Patron ' 
 do?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! " answered Mr. Parmenter, decidedly : " I 
 should object to that name, as unpopular and invid- 
 ious." 
 
 Mr. Don was embarrassed, but not long. He made 
 another proposition : 
 
 " It's proposed to call that fund ' The Sustentation 
 Fund : ' how would ' Sustentator ' do ? A little too 
 unusual?" 
 
 " Too Latiny, ain't it ? " asked Mr. Parmenter, who 
 occasionally fell to plain English. " How do you spell 
 it?" and he drew the open dictionary to himself. 
 " There is no such word in ' Worcester,' " he added, 
 after searching. 
 
 " An idea occurs to me, which might need further 
 development," said Mr. Don, by no means at the end
 
 302 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 of his resources. " We have an American word 
 suggested to me by the circumstances of your posi- 
 tion " and here, sitting up straight, and looking ear- 
 nestly into the fire, he thought vigorously. 
 
 The idea was, perhaps, a little crude as yet; for 
 Mr. Don's active mind labored with it in silence for 
 a moment, and then put it forth diffidently : 
 
 " 'Patroon' was the word which I had in my mind, 
 sir. Your position, here, makes it natural. A patroon, 
 as I understand it, is the chief man in the neighbor- 
 hood, and owns most of the land there. That corre- 
 sponds very well with your case, sir, I think." 
 
 " We never had any thing of that sort in this part 
 of the country," said Mr. Parmenter, rising, but not as 
 if he must absolutely reject it on that score : " do you 
 think it would go down ? " 
 
 " I put it forth as a suggestion : we can take it into 
 consideration," said Mr. Don, rising too ; " and I shall 
 feel it my duty to bring up that subject of a demon- 
 stration on your birthday, at the next meeting of the 
 Trustees. You haven't heard any thing more, I sup- 
 pose, about our mysterious boy, since the Stranger's 
 visit, the other day ? You were going to make in- 
 quiry at Weston, sir." 
 
 " Yes : there was such a man there, with a letter. 
 He'd been at Wale, Leavett, & Co.'s. Mr. Wale read his 
 letter ; but couldn't recollect his name. He said it was 
 some sort of a jaw-breaking name" 
 
 " Has he got the letter ? " 
 
 " No ; and he can't remember who it was from, 
 whether it was from the Governor, or Lieutenant- 
 Governor, or President of the Senate, or Speaker of 
 the House, or who. All he can remember is, it was 
 from some ' big bug,' as he said."
 
 MR. DON CALLS ON MR. PARMENTER. 303 
 
 " We might inquire of every one of those, if it was 
 important ; but they wouldn't be likely to remember." 
 
 " No, sir ; and we shouldn't want to make the mat- 
 ter too public by pushing it too hard. I wouldn't 
 recommend being apathetic, like Rector Warren, he 
 made it almost a personal matter, you know, sir, 
 but I think we can afford to wait ; " and, after this 
 hopeful forestalment of the future, he took his leave, as 
 courteously as he had entered.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE ROSICRUCIANS. 
 
 WHILE affairs, in the busy circle of the boys of St. 
 Bart's, and in the wise counsels of its Trustees, were in 
 this condition, there happened something to give a 
 little new interest to the every-day life of the School, 
 and concerning Brade and some of his friends. 
 
 Secret societies, which have come to the playing of 
 so important a part in many of our colleges, and which 
 have found their way into some schools, were forbidde j 
 here, as not being open and manly. Perhaps the 
 Rector's eye and the practised intelligence of tutors 
 may have been now and then eluded for a while, and 
 some transient and timid organizations may have had 
 two or three stealthy meetings, at long intervals, undis- 
 covered ; yet every thing of the kind was pretty thor- 
 oughly put out, and it might be said that no lasting 
 combination of that sort existed here. 
 
 Of this halcyon state of things an invasion seemed 
 now to be threatened. 
 
 A certain mysterious handbill, over copies of which 
 small groups of boys had talked and wondered, was read 
 by several tutors, and was made the subject of a little 
 comment, even among them. It was a printed bit of 
 paper, on which the first thing to draw the eye was a 
 red cross. Above this were the letters " B. R. C.," and
 
 THE ROSICRUCIANS. 305 
 
 underneath it, " Rosicrucians. This Brotherhood de- 
 fends the widows and fatherless, provides for the poor 
 and needy, and encourages each other. No initiation- 
 fee required. One black ball excludes from admission. 
 Per order G. M." 
 
 These though not arranged as on that paper nor 
 printed in the same type were the contents of the 
 handbill. The younger boys discussed it, when first 
 found, as it was, in several of their rooms, remarking 
 upon the cheapness of it, and " where they got money 
 from, to do all their works, if their members didn't pay 
 any thing ; " and so dismissed it. It appeared again ; 
 and then the boys, having ascertained that the wording 
 was just the same, and the printing just the same, 
 began to wonder " what fellow was sticking these 
 things about ? " Towne applied to it a witticism of 
 his own, which made no one laugh but himself, although 
 it was about as good as the average of boys' jokes. 
 " The Rosy-crutchers ! " he said : " who'll be a rosy 
 crutch?" Wilkins uttered another, about as good as 
 this : he called the name " Rosy Christians." Sam 
 Blake, coming along while several boys were making 
 their comments upon it, said it was just the thing that 
 he wanted ; for he " had been obliged to leave a dis- 
 consolate widow and several fatherless children behind 
 him, when he came to get an education, and he wanted 
 them provided for." Peters, though he read the paper, 
 with the others, made no comment ; perhaps because of 
 his general sympathy with chivalry. Brade had as 
 many of these thrust into his alcove as any one. 
 
 Night after night these things found their way into 
 the dormitories, and always into the same rooms, one 
 of which was Brade's, another Remseii's, and another
 
 306 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 Towne's. Where they were made, or how they were 
 distributed, no boy could tell. Several printing-presses 
 were owned in the School, and, except the red cross, 
 more than one of them was competent to do the print- 
 ing of this strange bill ; but then none of these presses 
 had done the work. Of course, if the printers had put 
 their name at the bottom of the paper, it would have 
 been a simple matter to read it ; but no such help to 
 discovery was there. There was the name " Rosicru- 
 cians," and there were the letters " B. R. C." and " G. M ; " 
 but these gave no information, and were, in themselves, 
 mysterious. 
 
 If the scattering of these handbills had happened 
 only once, all interest in them and curiosity about 
 them would have died out with the first reading, and 
 with the application to them of the usual amount of 
 comment and discussion and witticism ; but, coming 
 again and again, as they did, they kept discussion 
 astir ; and, of course, the Tutors very early, and in 
 time the Rector, became aware of the strange fact. 
 Meanwhile, as much in fun as in earnest, one of the 
 base-ball nines called itself ' Rosicrucian,' by anticipa- 
 tion of the next season ; beginning so early in order to 
 secure the name. This, as may be supposed, was not 
 of the older boys, for they had attained to too much 
 gravity and dignity to apply to any organization of 
 theirs a name from a mere transient occasion ; but 
 the " Rosicrucian " Nine was not the youngest, nor the 
 worst in the School ; for it took in Brade and Remsen 
 and Hirsett, and Albert Wadham and Tovvue, and 
 others of less note. Tarleton had been in it ; but had 
 withdrawn, on finding the general feeling to be strong 
 against him, and Peters half-filled his place.
 
 THE ROSICRUCIANS. 307 
 
 In adopting the name, the Nine adopted the device 
 of the red cross, to be worked upon a blue lozenge, or, 
 as they called it, " a diamond," on the shirt-front. 
 
 This adoption into the life of the School ought, per- 
 haps, to have satisfied the unwearied originators of this 
 handbill ; and it showed that, whatever unexplained 
 mystery there might be about it, there was, at least, no 
 apprehension of it, or scruple about meddling with it. 
 Still, at short intervals, the production of the papers 
 went on, and there was added, at the foot of them, in 
 print, " Seek the Association." 
 
 " Who can be doing it ? " everybody in that dormi- 
 tory asked, and " What's it for ? " 
 
 When the new words appeared, a gathering of boys 
 discussed the subject in Brade's alcove, three of his 
 visitors occupying places on his bed, and the rest sitting 
 and standing as they might. 
 
 " It's the way fellows get people to attend to 'em," 
 said Tom Hutchins, "by keeping on. It's the way 
 with advertisements. Why, look at Parmenter! Do 
 you suppose anybody'd ever hear of Melitrech and that 
 other stuff if he didn't advertise 'em ? He sends thou- 
 sands of advertisements away out West (he don't care 
 who sees 'em out there), and puts rhymes to 'em. 
 Blanchard told me so. ' A man out West Thought he 
 would test A better thing than honey : He drew a check 
 For Melitrech, And found 'twas worth the money!' 
 That's the way he does it." 
 
 " You made that up, Tom Hutchins," said Towne, 
 who was within hearing. 
 
 " No, I didn't, fact. Blanchard out here told me. 
 You ask him, sometime. He's got some prettier than 
 that, real poetry. I shouldn't wonder if he kept
 
 308 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 poets. They're poor, and don't have any thing to eat. 
 Look here ! " and then he began to repeat, " ' The 
 south-west wind ' " 
 
 " You've got it wrong ! " said Blake, as Hutchins 
 stopped. " Let a fellow try it, that's got a little poetry 
 in him ; " and, having sniffed, as if he were drawing in 
 some fragrance, he repeated, in a dainty voice : 
 
 " ' Of all the scents that load the air, 
 
 Where'er the zephyr blows, 
 The sweet wind leaves the others there, 
 And bears off Aqua-rose.' " 
 
 Blake left off, with his face and eyes lifted up, and 
 his right hand spread aloft, heedless of the "Encores" 
 which greeted this recitation. 
 
 " Well, but what's this fellow going to sell ? " asked 
 Leavitt. "He hasn't got any thing to sell, unless it's 
 red crosses." 
 
 " Well," said Hutchins, who, as we know, is some- 
 thing of a reasoner, " I tell you this chap's got deep 
 thoughts. He wants to make out of it." 
 
 " I don't believe it's any thing but trying to fool us," 
 said Remsen. " What do you say, Brade ? Don't you 
 believe it's just trying to fool us ? " 
 
 Brade laughed : " We haven't got any widows and 
 orphans," he said. 
 
 " Yes, we have, too," said Alonzo Peters, in an awk- 
 ward sort of way. " My mother's a widow, and there 
 are ever so many widows and orphans in the world." 
 
 " Oh, well ! " said Remsen, " the orphans are to take 
 care of their own widows. Everybody hasn't got to 
 take care of all the widows arid orphans." 
 
 " But who's going to look after the orphans, your
 
 THE ROS1CRUCIANS. 309 
 
 way, Remsen ? " asked Tom Hutchins, who has encoun- 
 tered Remsen before. 
 
 " I tell you," said Peters, fortified by this unlooked- 
 for support, " people have got to join together, to look 
 after 'em, and the poor : the Church is for that." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Towne, taking from his mouth, 
 and holding like a cigar, a bat, which he was pretend- 
 ing to smoke, "you're wandering from the subject. 
 What's this fellow printing these things and putting 
 'em in here for ? " 
 
 "Oh! it's some fellow that's doing it, of course," said 
 Remsen, giving, as the Chinese do, by his emphasis, an 
 entirely different meaning to the word emphasized. 
 
 " If we don't take any notice of it, he won't do it, 
 you see if he does," said Hutchins. " 'Tain't worth 
 making a fuss over, any how." 
 
 To this they generally agreed, and dropped the sub- 
 ject. In the School at large, it was not talked of, 
 now. 
 
 A night or two passed by, and then the printed things 
 appeared in a new guise, in the same rooms as before. 
 This time, there was a triplet printed below, in which 
 "land," "holy band," and "heroes stand" rhymed 
 together, as well as they rhyme in high verse like 
 " Hail Columbia ; " perhaps caught from that fountain, 
 perhaps original with the author, or some one else. 
 
 As this came soon after the talk of the different 
 visitors in Brade's room, and Tom Hutchins's rhyme, 
 quoted from Mr. Pannenter, had not yet been forgotten, 
 and as this doggerel appeared so soon after, the boys 
 began to say that it was a joke of Hutchins's, and not a 
 very bright one. Hutchins denied it, entirely, and said 
 " they must not put such stupid stuff on him : if he was
 
 310 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 going to make any thing, he'd make something better 
 than that." 
 
 The mystery, therefore, such as it was, had kept itself 
 mysterious, up to this point. Here a sort of jog was 
 given to it, which changed the condition of things. 
 
 There had been a foot-ball match between the Great 
 Middle Class, as the Third proudly and facetiously 
 called themselves, with the Fifth, on one side, and the 
 rest of the School on the other. Towne had kicked 
 hard enough for any three : every one had done his 
 best. Once Brade had run the ball up among every- 
 body, till Russell got a chance at it, and followed it 
 nearly out, when Lamson had gone at it and kept it, in 
 such a way that he ran it all the way down again. 
 Gaston had done wonders ; Wadham, the elder, had 
 distinguished himself; Burgess had done as well as 
 ever ; Peters had run the risk of personal harm, in an 
 astonishing way. Hutchins, Remsen, who had not 
 done honor to themselves, and worked hard for the 
 victory ? 
 
 In short, the field was manfully contested ; and all 
 who were engaged got hot, and pretty tired, when at 
 last the challengers (the Third) with their allies, the 
 Fifth, came out the conquerors by two out of three. 
 Gaston and Hutchins happened to leave the ground 
 together, and happened to be followed by Brade, whom 
 Peters joined himself to. It was not yet late, and the 
 greater part of the boys stayed where they were, for 
 more play. 
 
 Gaston and Hutchins had taken a short run, to try 
 their speed, and so had got a good way ahead. They 
 reached the house, while still the other two were so fnr 
 off that Peters's voice could not be perfectly heard, as
 
 THE ROSICRUCIANS. 311 
 
 he discussed the varied fortunes of the afternoon. 
 Already, though it was not dark out doors, some lamps 
 were burning in the house, and as they stopped not far 
 from the back-kitchen door, which stood ajar, and in- 
 dulged their curiosity by looking in, as they passed, 
 they saw the cook, to be sure, in the inner room, and 
 other women, too; but they saw something nearer, 
 which drew all their eyes. 
 
 " Ain't he too handsome to be lying there ? " asked 
 Gaston. 
 
 Now, though the reader may be too old and wise to 
 care, or may be impatient to see the connection of all 
 this with the Rosicrucians, we must linger a moment 
 here. This beauty, which delighted the clever Gaston, lay 
 not in wholeness, nor in symmetry ; for that which had 
 been a full-fleshed, evenly browned bird of the mid-day 
 board had been impaired a good deal in his integrity. 
 Much of his mighty breast had been cut off, and one of 
 his stalwart thighs. A broad, steep-sloping smooth of 
 white stretched down from his breast-bone which Gas- 
 ton, learned fellow, while he stood there, with grinning 
 face and watering mouth, twice told Hutchins was his 
 " sternum " under his strong pinion. About a fourth 
 part as much of a gray, mottled substance stretched 
 out, in like unbroken smoothness, beyond this white, 
 to where the neck, cut off, bounded the view. Under 
 the pinion, squeezed against his breast, " the way a 
 fellow carries a book," as the bookish Gaston reminded 
 Hutchins, who, all this short while, was talking only 
 with his eager eyes, was a stout gizzard. Such was 
 this sight ; and in such a state of incompleteness Avas 
 this once-splendid roasted bird, when seen by these 
 two hot and hungry boys.
 
 312 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 " There ! " said Gaston, who could not keep his learn- 
 ing down, and who, perhaps, having nothing better to 
 do, thought he could wear away a little time, while 
 still enjoying, with the sight, a feast on which his more 
 substantial senses were forbidden to make inroad, 
 "there! that stuffing just that sort of mixture of 
 colors is what the Greeks called ' yrotxtlo? ' (poikil'os). 
 It's a sort of" 
 
 " I should like to try whether it would ' kill ws,' I 
 know," said Hutchins, for the first time breaking silence, 
 and not only taking patiently his companion's learning, 
 but taking the trouble to make a play of words on what 
 he said. " Well, it's no good standing here : it only 
 makes a fellow hungrier and hungrier." 
 
 Gaston, however, was not so minded. 
 
 " Hold on a minute ! " he said. " Let's show it to 
 these other fellows." 
 
 Upon the word, the other boys drew near, of whom 
 the fantastic Peters was the most heard, discoursing of 
 the doughty deeds that had been done that day. 
 
 " Somehow," he was then just saying, " you don't care 
 when you get into it, do you ? " 
 
 Gaston nudged his companion, and repeated aside his 
 request : " Hold on, now, Hutchins ! " 
 
 " We're waiting for you fellows," he said to Brade 
 and Peters, as soon as they were near enough to hear 
 him in hbs common voice. " Now's your chance ! You 
 haven't been in, yet. That's for the conquerors," 
 (Peters and Brade, as the reader knows, were both 
 Third-formers, while Gaston and Hutchins were of the 
 Fourth), and, drawing back, he left room for them to 
 come between him and the coveted sight. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Peters, looking
 
 THE ROS1CRUCIANS. 313 
 
 through the chink of the partly open door, and seeing, 
 of course, that dainty dish which stood upon the table. 
 " That ain't for us f " 
 
 " We didn't open the door, really : did we, Hutchins ? " 
 said Gaston. " They opened it. Now, you've just got 
 to go right in, and ask for your share. There's Mrs. 
 Porter ; and there's Christina : they're all there, ready 
 to wait on you." 
 
 Brade, whether through wisdom and wariness, or 
 whether because he happened, at the moment, not to 
 have what healthy boys are hardly ever without, afl 
 appetite at any time, for any good thing, and for almost 
 any amount of it, said that " he was not hungry, and 
 did not want any thing." 
 
 This statement Gaston treated with contempt. 
 
 " You don't know what you're talking about, man ! " 
 lie said. " Look there ! " and then poured forth a 
 polyglot profusion of exclamations, as " En tibi ! idov ! 
 Voila ! There you have it ! " and he pointed to the 
 turkey. 
 
 Brade still declined ; but Peters said " he guessed 
 that he'd go in : he felt pretty hungry, for they'd 
 worked hard." 
 
 " That's sensible ! " said Gaston. " I wish I had your 
 chance. Only be quick! There isn't much gone yet; 
 but there'll be plenty of fellows here, before long ; " and 
 he looked up the road that led by the gymnasium to 
 the play-ground. 
 
 " Come, Brade ! " said Peters, not stirring yet : " you 
 come with me, won't you ? " 
 
 Fqr some reason or other, this seemed not to be 
 according to Gaston's plan. 
 14
 
 314 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 Before Brade could answer, Gastou " took the word," 
 as Frenchmen say. 
 
 " He'll come right in : she likes one at a time best. I 
 want to ask Brade a question." 
 
 So, pushing Hutchins to one side, and drawing Brade 
 by the button to the other, while the often-abstracted 
 Peters seemed about lifting his foot to enter, Gaston 
 addressed his captive thus : 
 
 " Look here ! What do you suppose ' turkey ' is in 
 Latin ? " (Peters still lingered, but with his queer 
 yes fixed hard at the temptation : " Go on, Peters ! 
 don't be too long ! " said Gaston, by way of parenthe- 
 sis.) " Don't you suppose " (to Brade, again) " they 
 had a" 
 
 "But they didn't know about turkey," said Brade. 
 It's a new thing, isn't it ? " 
 
 " The Romans must have known ! " said Hutchins. 
 " The Turks are a big people." 
 
 " Don't you suppose," Gaston continued, without 
 changing the character of his sentence, " they had a 
 word ' dindo ' ? You know the French (Rush in, 
 Peters ! ) " Gaston's voice trembled with the excite- 
 ment of the occasion. Then to Brade, again : " It 
 sounds like Greek Jiv" (din ). Peters was slowly, 
 and with a very uncertain hand, opening the door a 
 little, when the cook, whose ears were good, looked 
 toward them, and Peters started ; the other boys keep- 
 ing themselves out of sight, at each side. 
 
 Peters went, with his usual wavering and unsteady 
 step, across the floor of the back kitchen, and presented 
 himself, awkward and hesitating, to the authorities of 
 the inner room.
 
 THE ROSICRUCIANS. 315 
 
 Peters began to speak, and immediately there was a 
 laugh of scorn from within. 
 
 " I won't leave him," said Brade. 
 
 " No," said Gaston, whose plan now seemed to admit 
 of a change. "Go in and bring old Peters off! " and 
 he made way, and Brade went in. "Now, Hutchins! " 
 said the chief speaker : " there's a towel ! " 
 
 Brade went in to the relief of the undaunted 
 Peters, and found, when he got to his side, that that 
 boy had not succeeded. The cook was just saying, with 
 the utmost downrightness, to the applicant, " that it 
 would be a pretty thing for her to be giving a bit of 
 turkey to every boy that played foot-ball ; " and one 
 of those attendant women, who were to have been so 
 ready to help in the distribution of the reward to the 
 conquerors, craftily advised that " the turkey should be 
 looked after, where it was." Things therefore gave 
 little hope of rewards to the strenuous victors from the 
 play-ground. 
 
 The cook sent an assistant to bring the great fowl 
 in, and to begin cutting slices for the table ; and Brade 
 and Peters turned to go from the fruitless errand, 
 when suddenly there rose a cry from the assistant that 
 " the turkey was gone ! there wasn't sight nor sign of 
 it!" 
 
 Then was there running and crying out, among the 
 maid-servants of St. Bartholomew's School ; and, as 
 may be supposed, the two members of the victorious 
 Third were given to understand, in very plain English, 
 that their room was better than their company ; that 
 u the Rector would find it out, and then they'd have to 
 take their deserts; that if boys went on in this way, 
 there would be no living at St. Bart's ; " and as much
 
 316 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 more of wise thought and earnest exhortation, as half 
 a dozen excited and indignant women could put into 
 words in the space of a minute. 
 
 It was to no purpose, of course, that Peters rather 
 indignantly denied any business but just the honest one 
 of asking for a bit of turkey; and said that he had not 
 got even that. All eyes, his own included, although 
 they were different from other people's, could see that 
 where a turkey had been was nothing now but a large 
 empty dish, on which were a very few and slight, how- 
 ever savory-looking, traces of the great roasted bird 
 which a boy could not look at without wanting. 
 
 Brade assured the cook that " Peters was perfectly 
 innocent, and that he himself had only come in to keep 
 Peters company, for he did not want any turkey." 
 
 The cook's answer to all this was, " Of course not ; 
 what would he want turkey for? Boys didn't eat tur- 
 key, oh, no!" and another less angry, but not less 
 indignant female explained that " these two were only 
 blinds ; and, while they were talking, others were car- 
 rying off the fowl. That was the way of it." 
 
 Brade's face, as we know, was a very sympathetic 
 and communicative one ; and at this explanation it 
 went through sudden conscious changes. He had too 
 much presence of mind to call out to their late com- 
 rades at the door; and, after insisting upon giving his 
 word that they knew nothing about it, he hurried away 
 the unpractical Peters, who wished to stay and clear 
 himself, and got him out of the door. 
 
 Strangely enough, their troubles seemed only to have 
 begun within the house ; they went on worse, as soon 
 as the boys set their disappointed and indignant feet 
 upon the great earth that holds up every thing.
 
 THE ROSICRUCIANS. 317 
 
 Just by the door, apparently attracted by the tur- 
 moil, were Tutors Bruce and Hammersley, who had been 
 down at the play-ground when the match was played 
 Gaston and Hutchins were no longer to be seen. 
 
 The women, who had been so hard when talking to 
 the boys about the punishment that they deserved, now, 
 when they saw the Tutors, drew in, or threw away, a 
 good share of their hardness. " The turkey was gone," 
 they said ; " and it had been stolen. Orders had come, 
 express from the Rector, to have some for the boys' 
 supper, and it had been standing right there, upon that 
 dish, in open sight. The cook had seen it, and Chris- 
 tina had seen it ; anybody might see it, up to the time 
 these boys came in, five minutes ago, or less than that. 
 Then these came in, asking for a bit, because they'd 
 beat the foot-ball, and while they were standing there 
 the bird was gone, just the way it was then ;" and 
 here two of the speakers pointed to the sad emptiness 
 of the dish ; and one, to make the expression stronger, 
 took the goodly-sized and shapely piece of stone-china 
 between her two hands, and showed how light and how 
 utterly empty it then was. It was the opinion of the 
 cook and her chief associates that " the Rector ought 
 to know how high-handed the boys were getting." 
 
 The Tutors, without expressing any opinion, set up a 
 preliminary court of inquiry on the spot ; and the two 
 boys told their story, leaving out. of course, all other 
 names than those of one another. Peters came nearest 
 to mentioning a third party, when he said that " they 
 told him that any of the Third and Fifth could have 
 some turkey, by only going in and asking for it. That 
 was all he did : he just asked civilly, and they told him 
 he could not have any." The reader knows the story.
 
 318 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " If boys tell you, up and down, a thing, you must 
 believe 'em," said Peters. 
 
 " It ought to be so," said the Tutors. " Did you be- 
 lieve them, too, Brade ? " 
 
 "I didn't ask for any, sir," said Brade. "I didn't 
 want any. The girls were all laughing at Peters, and 
 so I went in, to stand by him and bring him out." 
 
 This story furnished a very imperfect explanation of 
 the turkey's disappearance, for it left that point un- 
 touched : it accounted for the doing of these two boys, 
 supposing it to be true ; and a boy's word, at St. Bart's 
 School, was always taken to be true, unless overwhelm- 
 ingly contradicted, which seldom happened. 
 
 So Brade and Peters, coming home as victoi's from 
 the well-fought field, are caught suddenly in unsuspected 
 toils. They had nothing to do with the carrying off 
 of the turkey : they can fancy how it went, but cannot 
 open their mouths, except to assert their own inno- 
 cence. 
 
 The Tutors go in before them, and Mr. Bruce turns 
 off (as the boys can easily understand), to report to the 
 Caput. 
 
 " Well, don't let's tell Gaston and Hutchins about 
 the Tutors," said Peters. " It'll serve 'em right, for 
 playing us such a trick." 
 
 To this Brade readily agreed, laughing at the pros- 
 pect ; but soothing his aggrieved companion with the 
 assurance that " those boys did not mean to get them 
 into trouble "
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 TEE TURKEY FOUND, BUT NOT THE SECRET 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 MR. BRUCE went straight to the Rector's study, and, 
 being admitted, found Mr. Wilson, the Head-Tutor, 
 already there. 
 
 " Something more about the Rosicrucians ? " asked 
 the Rector. " Mr. Wilson has just brought one bit of 
 information," and he handed to the last-comer one of 
 the now long-familiar cards of the " B. R. C." and the 
 Red Cross. 
 
 " Turn it over," said Mr. Wilson to his brother-tutor ; 
 and on the back appeared " Coena Lux. Reg. ap. Hoi. 
 XXIV. Hor. 8J, Hod." 
 
 " It would be astonishing," said the Rector, " if a 
 secret society, with feasting, could have been going on 
 under our noses, and with our leading scholar in it. 
 I'm told that Gaston calls his room ' Holworthy 24,' 
 after his brother's in college ; and this looks like a noti- 
 fication to supper, there, to-night." 
 
 " And there are only two boys in School that use 
 Greek or Latin that way, Gaston and Bracle," added 
 Mr. Bruce. 
 
 " Our two philologists ! " said the Rector, with a shake 
 of the head. 
 
 "And I've got something about Brade," said Mr. 
 Bruce.
 
 320 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 The Rector looked rather bl^nk at this announce- 
 ment, as if the clouds were unexpectedly thickening ; 
 and Mr. Bruce proceeded to tell his story about the 
 pillage of the lordly turkey, during Brade's and Peters's 
 visit to the kitchen. 
 
 " There's something much wholesomer in it, from its 
 all being under our own roof, at least," said the Rector. 
 "Then Brade and Peters say that they went in to 
 ask?" 
 
 Mr. Bruce explained their story, that Peters went in, 
 because he was told that he might, and Brade to bring 
 off Peters. 
 
 " Then you'll accept this invitation," said the Rector 
 to Mr. Wilson, " (it's at First Bed-time) and we'll wait 
 for further developments. They'd better be allowed 
 about three minutes to get comfortably together ; but 
 not more, for they'll be quick." 
 
 This arrangement having been made, the council 
 broke up. 
 
 At tea, Gaston and Hutchins, whom the reader will 
 remember to have been at the back-kitchen door while 
 the turkey lay on the dish, ate their supper like other 
 boys ; and certainly, if they had any consciousness of 
 a coming feast, they did not, by way of preparation, 
 spare the sliced turkey on the table. 
 
 After tea Gaston and Hutchins used the few minutes 
 of free time as industriously in play as any of the boys. 
 School went in, and time went on, to first bed-time. 
 Then Gaston and Hutchins went quietly out with the 
 lower-form boys. 
 
 There was no disorder in entry or room : the younger 
 fellows had their own subjects of conversation, among 
 which, as may be supposed, Brade's adventure with
 
 THE TURKEY FOUND, ETC. 321 
 
 Peters, and its probable consequences were discussed, 
 with much prudence about pronouncing any other 
 names than those of the two. 
 
 Among the rooms of larger boys all was quiet ; and 
 about Gaston's room, or " Holworthy 24," all was par- 
 ticularly still. 
 
 Within a few minutes Mr. Wilson quietly made his 
 appearance in the passage-way ; and then, if any heads 
 had before been appearing now and then at doorways, 
 if any occasional missile had before been hurled now 
 and then from one room to another, all sight and 
 almost all sound of boyish life was gone. 
 
 In this state of things, the Head Tutor walked 
 silently straight to Gaston's door, and without for- 
 mality entered. Two lamps were burning on the 
 bureau ; but, by a contrivance familiar to boys, the 
 unusual light was hindered from making a more than 
 usual show by barricades of books. 
 
 Four boys Gaston and Hutchins and Towne and 
 "Ultimatum" Blake were standing with their backs 
 toward the door, or rather Avith all their faces toward 
 the well-lighted top of the bureau. Towne had " got 
 himself up " in what he perhaps considered a holiday 
 rig ; for not only was his hat turned inside out, as we 
 have seen it before, but he had managed to put on his 
 coat upside down, with the tails falling like a cape down 
 his back. Hutchins and Blake were in their usual 
 dress, Blake at one end, where half of his face could 
 be seen drawn into a very comical expression, but 
 intensely silent, and with his eyes fastened unwaver- 
 ingly. Gaston had on what may have been meant for 
 a priestly garb from old Rome. His chief garment was 
 a sheet fastened about his neck and trailing to the 
 14* u
 
 322 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 ground, except where one foot, in a stocking, was'thrust 
 out behind. About his head he had a band of twisted 
 cotton-batting, and round that a purple neck-tie whose 
 ends hung down at the back. His face could be seen 
 in the looking-glass which hung over the chest of 
 drawei's; and it was overflowing with satisfaction. The 
 glass also showed, what the shoulders of the boys 
 otherwise hid, the ample remains of a huge roasted 
 turkey. 
 
 " Gentlemen," Gaston was saying, in a voice narrowed 
 down to the necessity of the case, " I bid you welcome 
 to this auspicious feast ! Under the nose of Wilson, 
 most vigilant of observers ; between the hands, as you 
 may say, of Bruce, most sagacious of tutors, per tela, 
 per hostes, have I, with the help of Hutchins, borne 
 this bird. Time fails. Draw swords, and march into 
 the beast, as I do ! " and thereupon he cut a thick 
 slice of breast and stuffing, and three knives more 
 assailed the savory meat. 
 
 There was a hurried noise of cutting, with a glad 
 murmur of voices and then a general munching of the 
 festive viands, all in a moment, when a new voice was 
 heard : 
 
 " I've come upon this invitation," said Mr. Wilson, 
 showing the card, while, before he had spoken three 
 words, the four feasters had faced about to any quarter 
 but toward the bureau. Gaston, whose eyes had taken 
 in the card and the Tutor at once, still kept a good 
 deal of the merriment in his face, with his cheeks stuffed 
 full of turkey. Blake increased the drollery of his look 
 at this unexpected diversion. In one hand stretched 
 out, he held his knife; in another a large piece of un- 
 bitten flesh from the great fowl.
 
 THE TURKEY FOUND, ETC. 323 
 
 " I'm authorized to invite the whole company to the 
 Rector's study," said Mr. Wilson, " with the turkey. 
 Gaston, you'll lead, with the turkey in the napkin ; and 
 all of you follow, just as you are. I'll come behind, 
 with one of these lights." 
 
 In this order, therefore, the procession set forth; 
 all but Gaston following Blake's example, in eating 
 most diligently as they went. Gaston's hands were 
 so occupied with the larger burden that he was de- 
 nied that comfort. Towne, having a leg and drum- 
 stick, could hardly hope, even with the most frantic 
 efforts, to make his bit much less conspicuous by the 
 time he reached the Rector's presence. 
 
 A strange-looking company they were ; but the Rec- 
 tor maintained his gravity. 
 
 " So these are some of our Rosicrucians, are they ? " 
 he asked. "And who's the head of your society? 
 You, Gaston?" 
 
 " There's no society, sir," said Gaston. " I happened 
 to have a turkey " 
 
 " Yes, I know the history of the turkey," said the 
 Rector. " First explain that card," pointing to it 
 in Mr. Wilson's hand. " Put all your bits of turkey 
 here," he added, spreading several thicknesses of news- 
 papers on the floor, on which they all made their 
 deposits. "Now, Gaston, explain that card, if you 
 please." 
 
 " This side of it is my side," said the boy. " I don't 
 know any thing about the other. This is just one that 
 I picked up." 
 
 " Read and explain your own side, then," said the 
 Rector ; and Gaston read and explained, a little awk- 
 wardly :
 
 324 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " ' Coena regalis luxus, apud Holworthy Viginti- 
 quatuor, hora octava et dimidia, hodie,' a supper of 
 royal luxury, at Holworthy 24, at eight-and-a-half 
 o'clock, to-day." 
 
 Amid the discomfiture of the feasters, this glowing 
 announcement fell absurdly. 
 
 " Now for the other side of the card, this stuff 
 about the Rosicrucians, who can explain it?" 
 
 Here Blake spoke : 
 
 " Nobody knows any thing about that, sir. That's a 
 sort of ghost : none of the fellows know any thing 
 about it." 
 
 "None of you know any thing about it?" asked the 
 Rector. 
 
 To this question all gave so definite and evidently 
 honest an answer in the negative as to make it clear 
 that Gaston's entertainment had nothing to do with 
 the Rosicrucians or any other secret society, and that 
 the " B. R. C." and the Red Cross were as much mys- 
 teries as ever. 
 
 The boys looked down at the booty on the floor. 
 
 " A liking for turkey's not a bad taste, Edward," 
 said the Rector ; " but a liking for turkey that isn't 
 yours is." 
 
 *' Blake and Towne hadn't any thing to do with 
 getting the turkey/' said Gaston ; " and Brade and 
 Peters. They didn't know any thing about it. I 
 don't believe they do yet," he added, smiling at the 
 thought. 
 
 But the end was come. 
 
 The little company of revellers was dealt with, first 
 of all, by ordering them, just as they were, down to 
 the kitchen, to restore their stolen food. Their proper 
 punishment was to come in due course the next day.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 MR. PARMENTER MORE THAN EVER ACTIVE. 
 
 PEOPLE with a strong turn for being busy have their 
 times and seasons, like other things and beings, and 
 sometimes are stirred up to special busyness. Our Mr. 
 Parmenter had his busier times. If we might use a 
 poetical figure about a man who was not poetical, we 
 should say that that strong sea-swell which had floated 
 on its bosom the grand project of "Graduated Endow- 
 ment" broke itself up into many wavelets of lesser 
 activity, before sinking back to the common level of the 
 sea. 
 
 The noise of the fights had reached the alert and 
 active ears of Mr. Parmenter, and not less the story 
 of Gaston's and Brade's ambitious adventures among 
 Words and Languages. The turkey, stolen and recov- 
 ered, had occupied his attention ; the traps, and Rainov's 
 supposed connection with them, had not escaped him ; 
 he knew of the Rosicrucian mystery. 
 
 In all these, Mr. Parmenter interested himself, and 
 with an amount of bustle unwonted even in him. 
 
 About the traps he satisfied himself from boys of the 
 School ; as to the turkey he made, in passing, personal 
 inquiry at the scene of the marauding ; complimented, 
 with dignity, the cook and Christina, in turn, on their 
 carefulness and skill, receiving, in his face, a smiling
 
 326 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 expression of satisfaction at being appreciated, and in 
 his back, when he turned it (alas ! cooks are not choice 
 in their English) the comment that " there were some 
 would be always sticking their noses where they 
 thought there was a hole : couldn't he leave the Rec- 
 tor of the School to look after his own kitchen ? " 
 
 He had convinced both Mr. Don and the Rev. Mr. 
 Merritt that they ought to go (as they accordingly did) 
 to ascertain whether discipline had been wisely admin- 
 istered in the case of Tarleton and his two unwilling 
 antagonists. 
 
 Lastly, he came himself on a friendly visit to Rector 
 Warren's study ; and, after a preliminary compliment, 
 as he looked round with a sort of salutatory wave of his 
 hand and hat to the books and other ornaments of the 
 room, that " he always felt awed, in such an atmosphere 
 of learning and taste," went on to speak of the various 
 happenings and doings in such a way as to show his 
 familiarity with School-topics, and his never-flagging 
 interest in them. 
 
 " The Trustees felt," he said, " that the School was 
 in able hands. He regretted that a secret organization 
 seemed to baffle the authorities, that sort of thing had 
 been too much for former Rectors." 
 
 Then he smilingly changed the subject to Brade's 
 treatment of Tarleton. He "supposed that some 
 people would recognize Brade's conduct as high blood 
 showing itself, a flashing-out of the diamond. He 
 didn't attach much importance to those things; but 
 there was no knowing how strong blood was, that might 
 be said to have filtered for centuries through pretty 
 choice clay. And then, he supposed, it wouldn't do " 
 (this he said by way of parenthesis, and with very evi-
 
 MR. PARMENTER MORE ACTIVE. 327 
 
 dent embarrassment) " for people who had some preten- 
 sions that way themselves to be hasty in saying that 
 old blood was not a very powerful instrument. He 
 himself, perhaps, was drawn by his descent to French 
 manners and tastes." 
 
 To this, of course, the Rector of the School, being a 
 well-bred and sensible man, assented, and said that " it 
 was very possible." This gentleman, as we have already 
 seen, was not enthusiastic on the subject of Brade's 
 mysterious birth. 
 
 Mr. Parmenter enlarged a little : 
 
 " He was gbad to find that Brade's abilities kept pace 
 with his future station, in this or any other country" 
 
 (a difficult figure, but boldly managed), " and that 
 he was going to turn out an honor to his position. 
 Mightn't it be well," he asked, "to put a boy like that, 
 
 like Gaston and Brade, for example, forward, with- 
 out spoiling them ? There were not many public occa- 
 sions, to be sure ; but a classical speech assigned to two 
 such boys as Gaston and Brade, for instance, on some 
 public occasion, might be a good thing ; for their 
 scholarship was creditable to the School. 
 
 There was a tone of recommendation through all 
 this, that, very likely, did not make it more pleasant to 
 the Head of St. Bartholomew's School. 
 
 He answered simply, " Yes ; very likely." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter, with much definiteness of purpose, 
 went on : 
 
 " There was one thing which, he thought, it might be 
 well to mention. Not many things, generally, escaped 
 him; but he had observed Brade particularly, at Church, 
 for the last Sunday or two, because (he believed) Brade 
 was a candidate for confirmation. Now, of course, his
 
 328 ANTONY BBADE. 
 
 behavior was always like a young gentleman ; but Mr. 
 Parmenter had observed one practice, which, perhaps, 
 might be corrected at once. All through the prayers, 
 Brade appeared to have his eyes shut, while his lips 
 w r ere moving. Now Mr. Parmenter did not know what 
 might be the custom in foreign churches ; but it would 
 not do to make exceptions or allowances here. St. 
 Bartholomew's was a Church School, and it must be 
 understood that whoever came to it must conform. 
 The rule of the Church was to follow the book with 
 the eyes open, was it not ? Mr. Parmenter thought 
 it might be well to speak to Brade privately. There 
 were other things, about the deportment of different 
 boys at their prayers, which he would reserve for an- 
 other time. He thought Brade's case important as a 
 candidate for confirmation, and brought up, perhaps, in 
 another way." 
 
 The Rector of the School, as we should expect, hav- 
 ing seen him through former visits of this sort, had sat 
 impatiently under the latter part of this speech, and had 
 risen from his seat before it was finished. 
 
 He answered a little unceremoniously : " He thought 
 very well of encouraging Gaston's and Brade's scholar- 
 ship ; but the other suggestion he could not accept. 
 He must take leave to be guided, in such matters, by 
 his own discretion. There was no question about 
 indulging foreign habits. The boy, he believed, had 
 never been inside of any place of worship in his life 
 but one sort; and he was going to be confirmed just as 
 he had been brought up. But the boy was singularly 
 truthful and earnest, as sensitive boys were apt to be ; 
 and in spiritual things must be treated with great re- 
 serve and delicacy."
 
 MR. PARMENTER MORE ACTIVE. 329 
 
 Mr. Warren spoke hastily ; but his visitor, with only 
 a slight change of countenance, accepted the difference 
 of opinion. It had not been without moral benefit, 
 probably, that he had had the practice, for many years, 
 of managing his temper and manners, in dealing with 
 customers from behind a counter. His control of him- 
 self, now, was just about of the same sort that we have 
 seen him apply to his horse, and with the same apparent 
 consciousness that what he was doing was the right 
 thing, and done just rightly. 
 
 " He was sorry that their views did not entirely 
 coincide," he said ; but then, by a sort of transition 
 that seemed habitual with him, changed the subject, 
 and congratulated the Rector of the School on " having 
 so good a set in his kitchen." He finished, in his usual 
 handsome way, by saying that " he had observed a 
 vacant place for a statuette " (the word seemed familiar 
 to him) : " might he be allowed to present a mate to 
 the figure of a martyr, in the corresponding place ? " 
 
 Mr. Warren thanked him, but declined : " the place 
 was already provided for." 
 
 The visitor departed ceremoniously, and in the hall 
 was probably unconsciously rehearsing the interview ; 
 for, with hat in hand, he was in the midst of an elabo- 
 rate bow to the emptiness before him, when the cheery 
 salutation of Mr. Manson, from below, interrupted. 
 
 Mr. Parmenter recovered himself; and, having ascer- 
 tained that his pastor "had a few moments' leisure," led 
 the way to the outside of the house, and there addressed 
 himself to the Rector of the Parish. To him he repre- 
 sented the propriety of exact conformity by the boys of 
 their School, when in Church ; and testified, from his 
 own observation, to sundry discrepancies.
 
 330 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " How do you manage," asked the parson and editor, 
 " to keep such a strong eye to earth when you're pray- 
 ing ? I couldn't for the life of me. I think the boys 
 behave very well; and it isn't a good thing to meddle 
 too much." 
 
 " It's as well to have things right, I suppose ? " said 
 Mr. Parmenter. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! but meddling too much is what I'm talk- 
 ing about. Here's one of the leading places in this 
 country: its Dutch neighbors, in Colony times, for 
 always trying to domineer, called it Boss*-town, and 
 the name's stuck to it ever since, just as the thing 
 has too, for that matter." 
 
 " I don't quite see the connection," said Mr. Parmen- 
 ter : " you can hardly call doing your duty ' meddling,' 
 I think." 
 
 " I'll tell you where to begin, though," said the par- 
 son. " Begin at the older people. There are some of 
 your Trustees that kneel in a very trusteeical way when 
 they're here, with nothing but their heads. There's 
 a missionary field for you to expatiate in. You'd better 
 go at them. It'll do 'em good." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter was grave and in earnest : 
 
 " The cases are not quite parallel, I think, sir," he 
 said. " The boys are under our control, to be brought 
 up as they ought to be. We can hardly apply the 
 same rule to grown-up people, who are their own 
 masters." 
 
 * To be exact as a philologist, Mr. Manson ought to have given 
 the true Dutch form, "Baas" (pronounced Bows), and not the 
 American form of it, "Boss." The Bostonians show the force of 
 traditional habit, in pronouncing the name " Baws-ton," to this 
 day.
 
 MR. PARMENTER MORE ACTIVE. 331 
 
 Here Mr. Parmenter, by an easy diversion, changed 
 the subject a little, changing his mind also. 
 
 " You're aware that there's to be a meeting of the 
 Trustees on Thursday, sir ? " he asked ; and having 
 given this turn to things, and received Mr. Manson's 
 answer, he courteously left him to pursue his visit to 
 the Head of the School. 
 
 As the visit does not directly concern our story, we 
 leave the account of it untold.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE TRUSTEES MEET. 
 
 THE meeting of the Trustees had been called to 
 occupy Mr. Parmenter's house on an evening during a 
 'three-days' absence of the owner. 
 
 The day had been rainy, and the night was so ; but 
 the room was bright with chandelier and candles, and 
 a quiet blaze of cannel coal from a long and very low 
 and open iron basket, laid across a pair of handsome 
 andirons. 
 
 A majority of the Trustees came. The Judges were 
 absent. Counsellor and Law-lecturer Pethrick had been 
 made sure of. 
 
 Dr. Farwell was bland to a high degree. Dr. But- 
 tonn twirled his thumbs, while he awaited whatever 
 action might be proposed. Mr. Manson was not, this 
 time, reading and pencil-marking, but apparently in- 
 dulging himself in absolute leisure ; talking, listening, 
 keeping silence, as might happen. Mr. Pettie wake- 
 fully held his place, looking out from under his eye- 
 brows, and entered into little conversation, as if afraid 
 of delaying the opening for business. Mr. Don was in 
 a condition of grave importance, as having been the 
 chief occasion of this meeting, and likely to have a 
 chief hand in the furtherance of its action. Mr. Merritt 
 was in a state corresponding to that of Dr. Farwell :
 
 THE TRUSTEES MEET. 333 
 
 where the Doctor was more than commonly spreading 
 and wise and beaming, the other was, perhaps, more 
 than usually quick and to the point. 
 
 Between Dr. Farwell and his friend a by-play liad 
 been going on, in which more than one familiar, 
 and therefore inoffensive, joke had been let off by 
 familiar hands. The younger divine had been already 
 called, with emphasis, a Merritt-orious trustee, and a 
 Merry-ttorious man, and also an e-Merritt-us officer. 
 Very likely even then the reverend Doctor had not 
 emptied his quiver of half the bright-tipped weapons 
 with which he wore it loaded. 
 
 The meeting was called to order ; and Mr. Merritt 
 retaliated by saying, as he leaned over, " And now Far- 
 well, a long Farwell, to all thy brightness ! " 
 
 Dr. Farwell entered upon business in the happiest 
 state. His eyes twinkled at each side of his nose like 
 lighted windows in fishers' cots nestling at each side of 
 a jutting promontory. (There's a pretty figure for our 
 tasteful readers !) He sat there, ready to do justice to 
 every thing in turn, and to carry all, if needful, along 
 with him. His last private act was to call Mr. Manson's 
 attention, aside, to the artistic taste and beauty of a 
 pair of andirons, of gold bronze, on the hearth, and 
 which represented furnace-men, shielding their faces 
 with mittened hands from the heat. 
 
 The minutes of the last meetins; having been read, 
 
 O ~ ' 
 
 and a pause ensuing, Counsellor Pethrick employed the 
 empty time in laying out the business, as " it seemed to 
 divide itself naturally, into two parts, each of which 
 was capable of further subdivision : I. Shall the Trus- 
 tees institute commemorations of benefactors ? a. Shall 
 individual benefactors be recognized in their several
 
 334 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 capacities ? b. Shall Mr. Parmenter be so recognized ? 
 II. What shall be the character of the commemora- 
 tion ? a. Shall it take the shape of a School holiday ? 
 b. What shall be the character of the public cele- 
 bration ? " 
 
 This systematic treatment of the subject had an 
 effect which it often has, of making everybody ready 
 to proceed to the immediate consideration, and, if pos- 
 sible, the speedy settlement of the business. Dr. Far- 
 well felt that it was his time to give that direction to 
 things. There was in him now no trace of pleasant 
 levity : he was all himself. 
 
 "We have heard," he said, "the matter well laid 
 out, laid out with the largeness of scope and accu- 
 racy of definition of a legal intellect. It was proper 
 it was fitting that it should be so laid out. He had no 
 doubt that every one present felt, as he did, the eminent 
 propriety of the thing. The word which he [Dr. Far- 
 well] had in his own mind to say was that, as there 
 were moments for reflection and deliberation, so there 
 were moments for action. It seemed to him that the 
 time had now come for action." 
 
 At this point his friend Mr. Merritt " moved that, in 
 order to bring the subject in a tangible shape before 
 them, the propositions which they had just heard 
 should be reduced to resolutions and acted upon sepa- 
 rately." Mr. Pettie offered a ready pencil to the mover 
 for this purpose. 
 
 The subject was now open for discussion, in the con- 
 sideration of the first resolution : Shall the Trustees 
 institute commemorations of benefactors ? 
 
 Upon this point the opinions seemed already pretty 
 well made up. Dr. Buttonn, smiling, said that " those
 
 THE TRUSTEES MEET. 335 
 
 sort of things tickled benefactors, amazingly." Mr. 
 Pettie "saw no objection: people when they give like 
 to be recognized." Dr. Farwell "did not know that 
 there was any objection : people give, because they 
 have got something to give. There is the broad fact. 
 The question is, Shall the fact be recognized ? Well, 
 Shall the sun be recognized ? Will you recognize the 
 rain ? Then, as to a public recognition. We are a 
 public body ; the world looks upon us as a public 
 body : we can't hide ourselves, we can't put our- 
 . selves out of sight, as a public body. We " 
 
 Mr. Merritt " thought that, if the Trustees were 
 ready, the first resolution might be submitted to a 
 vote;" and Dr. Farwell, falling back into his arm- 
 chair, expressed all the rest of his sentiments, as well as 
 his concurrence in the general tide of opinion, by a 
 wave of the hand. The resolution was adopted. 
 
 Upon the second resolution, about recognizing indi- 
 vidual benefactors, a great deal of good sense and 
 discrimination was shown. Dr. Buttonn expressed a 
 large truth when he said that " there were but three 
 hundred and sixty-five days in a year, and if you have 
 three hundred and sixty-five benefactors you may 
 have three hundred and sixty-five holidays ; and then 
 you'd have no time for school." 
 
 To this Mr. Manson answered that " each might take 
 his turn one a year for three hundred and sixty- 
 five years." 
 
 A difficulty was apparent here. Mr. Manson's prop- 
 osition could hardly be intended seriously to meet it. 
 Dr. Buttonn inquired whether " you could set a certain 
 stent, and say all who came up to that stent should 
 have a day ? "
 
 336 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 It " struck " Mr. Counsellor Pethrick " that this ar- 
 rangement might be inconvenient; for, unless you jet 
 your mark pretty high, you would not obviate your 
 difficulty, and, if you set it high, you seem to cut off 
 Mr. Parmenter, who (as the Counsellor understood it) 
 was only giving five thousand dollars." 
 
 " Excuse me, sir," said Mr. Don, for the first time 
 taking part. " I understand Mr. Parmenter to be giving 
 five thousand dollars at a time : he may give ten times 
 five thousand dollars, or he may give twenty times five 
 thousand dollars." 
 
 "But five thousand at a time?" said Counsellor 
 Pethrick, " and not more than five thousand, yet ? " 
 
 " Suppose we lump 'em all together, as I believe was 
 proposed last time," said Mr. Merritt, "and that'll 
 settle two of your resolutions " (looking at his paper). 
 " You'll recognize individuals, and you'll recognize 
 Mr. Parmenter, who is your first benefactor ; " and he 
 moved the adoption of a resolution to that effect. It 
 was carried. 
 
 It was now proposed that the Counsellor's second 
 head, with its two subdivisions, should be disposed of 
 in the same compact way : " There shall be a School- 
 holiday, with such arrangements for the celebration 
 as a committee may determine." The resolution was 
 adopted, and Dr. Farwell, Mr. Merritt, and Mr. Pettie 
 were appointed the committee. 
 
 Every thing seemed to have gone well. The evening 
 was rainy : the Trustees were all to sleep in Eastham, 
 there was no hurry. Instead of adjourning, there- 
 fore, when the business was done, the members stayed 
 together, talking ; the chairman of the Committee, Dr. 
 Farwell, remarking that, " in making their pkins, the
 
 THE TRUSTEES MEET. 337 
 
 Committee would have the advantage of hearing an 
 expression of the views of the Trustees." 
 
 " The Committee," said Dr. Farwell, " are establishing 
 a precedent for posterity, for all time. They will 
 want to have large views. They cannot prevent their 
 action from being scrutinized ages hence, it's one of 
 the conditions of their office. Posterity will say, ' Here 
 was a committee, composed of such and such members, 
 why did they make this arrangement? We see the 
 name of one Farwell here. What was the determining 
 consideration in his mind ? What was the ground of 
 his action ? ' " 
 
 Mr. Manson suggested that the chnirman of the Com- 
 mittee might leave on record, for posterity, an account 
 of the processes of his mind, in coming to a conclusion. 
 Dr. Farwell, acknowledging that this might be done, 
 thought that it would be better to have their action 
 explain itself, so that it might be said, " Here was such 
 a one (Farwell or any other) : his course is a track of 
 light." 
 
 "Suppose we talk it over," said Mr. Merritt. " What 
 is proposed ? You want something that the boys can 
 take part in." 
 
 " It occurred to me, sir," said Mr. Don, modestly, 
 " that a procession, with some decorations, perhaps 
 some exercises . There are two boys, Gaston 
 and" 
 
 " You must remember you've got winter," said Mr. 
 Merritt. 
 
 Dr. Buttonn, who had seen the inside of trade him- 
 self, said.: "It'll be a pretty good advertisement." 
 
 " Suppose it is," said Mr. Pettie : " it's all fair and 
 legitimate." 
 
 16 v
 
 388 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Dr. Buttonn, " I don't object at all. I 
 wouldn't object to any thing that's proposed." 
 
 Mr. Counsellor Pethrick, the moment it had been 
 understood that the Board was going to relax a little 
 of its order and stiffness, and be informal, had lighted a 
 cigar, and stretching out his legs, and resting his head 
 on the back of his chair, was comfortably and reflec- 
 tively blowing slow and long streams of smoke up 
 towards the ceiling. Acting on his suggestion, the 
 
 O O OO ' 
 
 Reverend Doctor Buttonn had cloven a huge lump of 
 cannel coal, and brought forth a blaze of light and 
 warmth. 
 
 Out of his serene infolding, the lawyer spoke : 
 
 " Parmenter's made a wonderfully good thing out of 
 that ' Melitrech.' Who gave him the name ? " 
 
 " One of the results of having a classical school at 
 his elbow," said Mr. Manson. 
 
 " And now he wants to have a Latin speech, on the 
 Great Day, eh ? " asked the lawyer. 
 
 "You'll have to have your ' exercises' in-doors, if the 
 weather isn't good," said Mr. Merritt. " It's proposed, 
 I believe, to give a Latin speech to one or two of the 
 best scholars, Brade, the Great Unknown, and Gas- 
 ton" 
 
 "There is something about that boy, isn't there?" 
 Counsellor Pethrick asked. " Mr. Parmenter went at 
 the guardian, or agent, Bates ; but Bates got his funds 
 through other people, and when Parmenter tried that 
 string he found there was a lawyer at the other end, 
 and it wouldn't come. Is he Russian ? or what ? " 
 
 "I don't believe he's any more Russian than I am," 
 said Mr. Manson. " He's quick at languages, you've 
 heard of that funny paper Gaston and he got up, but
 
 THE TRUSTEES MEET. 339 
 
 doesn't know a word of Russian. By all accounts, he's 
 a fine-spirited, generous-hearted fellow." 
 
 " I shouldn't like to dismiss the subject too hastily, 
 sir," said Mr. Don. 
 
 " Talking of a turn for languages," said Mr. Merritt, 
 drawing from a pocket a scrap of paper, crumpled and 
 soiled, "can anybody make something out of this? 
 You've seen it before," he added to Mr. Don, who, after 
 eying it sharply, said, 
 
 " The same document that was picked up, I think, 
 sir?" 
 
 " Yes : ' Ekat Nryai,' " said the possessor of the paper, 
 reading, with some grimace, and handing- it to his next 
 neighbor, who happened to be the Rector of the Parish 
 and Editor of the " Church Post." " There's one curious 
 thing about it, certainly : ' sioa ' is a good Anglo-saxon 
 word, I find, in the books." 
 
 Mr. Manson did not keep the paper; but having 
 glanced hastily at its front, and then at its back, put it 
 out of his hand. " Yes," said he, in answer to the last 
 speaker, "I believe there is such a word as 'swa' in 
 Anglo-saxon." 
 
 The Trustees, in one way or other, gave more or less 
 attention to the paper ; Mr. Pettie scrutinizing it closely 
 for a few moments, and handing it on, without com- 
 ment; Dr. Buttonn holding it long enough to say that 
 "he could understand the arithmetic, but wasn't any 
 hand at languages ; " Mr. PethricK eyed it only from his 
 comfortable distance as it traversed the circle ; Dr. Far- 
 well, with a face of happy blandness, read some of the 
 words, with emphasis and gesture, and called upon the 
 company to say how it compared with the Classic 
 Tongues, but hoped that he might not be asked to com-
 
 340 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 mit himself to a judgment. " There seems," said he, 
 " to have been some little doubt about the spelling, 
 here: ' gaterrapin,' no, it's 'gatrapin,' first with two 
 jp's, and then one scratched out." He turned with a 
 knowing look to Mr. Manson, sitting at his right : " you 
 know something about this, I saw you smile." 
 
 Mr. Manson disclaimed all knowledge of it, and "had 
 no opinion about it at all." 
 
 Mr. Don, as the attention to Mr. Merritt's paper 
 flagged, produced one of his own, containing a single 
 Word, of which no one present could make any thing. 
 
 " We shall have to make ourselves into an Inscrip- 
 tion-society, if this goes on," said Mr. Manson. " Where 
 did this last come from ? " 
 
 " I copied it from a very ancient and curious watch, 
 belonging to Brade " 
 
 " That old silver watch ? " asked Mr. Merritt. Oh ! 
 I know all about that: that isn't Brade's, it's Remsen's. 
 It never was Brade's ; only Brade had it. There's one 
 thing more about that other paper," he continued, re- 
 turnijag to his own, after having dismissed Mr. Don's, 
 " It's written in a girl's hand. That ' swa,' I think, is 
 rather curious." 
 
 " So you're going to have the celebration, and speechi- 
 fying;" said Counsellor Pethrick, who had taken no ac- 
 tive part in the examination of the papers. " You've 
 settled that ? " 
 
 " That's a sudden pop given to the Committee ; " said 
 Dr. Farwell, condescending to a familiar word capable 
 of a sudden emphasis, which he gave it, with his 
 lips, in uttering it. " Shall we resume our delibera- 
 tions ? " 
 
 " I'm getting a little sleepy," said Dr. Buttonn, who
 
 THE TRUSTEES MEET. 341 
 
 was a solid man : " there's a general understanding. 
 We can trust the Committee. Suppose we adjourn." 
 
 No one was unwilling ; and gathering itself up again, 
 from its relaxation, into an official body, the Board for- 
 mally adjourned. 
 
 " An informal Committee-meeting at Mrs. Wadham's 
 party?" asked Mr. Pettie, of the Chairman, as they 
 shook off the weariness of sitting. So it was agreed, it 
 being understood that one or two others of the Trustees 
 were likely to be there.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 MRS. WADHAM'S PARTY. 
 
 MR. GREENWOOD, as we have already heard, had been 
 away, just when his help was wanted, in correspondence 
 with the Russian Ambassador. He did not, however, 
 stay away for ever, and had, some time since, come back, 
 ready (and perhaps a little more than ready) to lend 
 himself to the carrying out of the projected party, and 
 all that belonged to it. 
 
 Yet weeks had gone on into the Uncounted Past, 
 since the first forecasting, in Mrs. Wadham's parlor, 
 and still the party had not come. This delay could not 
 have been owing to any fear of expense, for, as we have 
 seen, the lady was not niggardly. It was not owing 
 to the want of Mr. Greenwood, for Mr. Greenwood had 
 for some time been upon the spot ; yet already all the 
 almanacs had counted into December. The Trustees 
 had appointed ' Benefactors' Day " to come on the 
 Fifteenth. 
 
 The truth was, that Mrs. Wadham herself had been 
 away, on a short visit to the city. 
 
 Before going down, she had expressed to Rector 
 Warren her sympathy for " that young motherless boy 
 that they called a Russian," and had got leave for him 
 to come to her house to dinner. She had had him all 
 by himself; had had a most excellent chance to impress 
 upon him, with delicacy and good judgment, the lone-
 
 MRS. WADHAM'S PARTY. 343 
 
 liness of a, boy who had " no mother to come and tell 
 his little secrets to, and lay his head on her bosom ; " 
 and then, when doubtless his heart was tender, she had 
 adroitly touched upon languages, and asked him how 
 many he knew. To this Brade, like any reasonably 
 modest fellow, and also a free-hearted boy, as he was, 
 had answered that he supposed he did not know any 
 one language really, but he was learning ; and so he 
 gave her a short list of the tongues which a boy com- 
 monly learns at school, in fitting for college. Russian 
 was not among them. 
 
 In making his answer, it may be, indeed, that he re- 
 called to his mind, with some tenderness, his late work 
 on " The Analogy of Languages ; " and he may have 
 been even more tenderly conscious of his share in the 
 authorship of a whole Language ; but his list took in 
 a couple of old-time tongues, and a couple of those of 
 to-day, and there it stopped. 
 
 Mrs. Wadham had drawn things very skilfully to 
 this point; and, now, to get one step further ! This she 
 did also skilfully, by saying that " there were some fine 
 languages that they did not teach at St. Bartholomew's 
 School," and then suddenly, but with great delicacy, 
 springing upon him the word "Russian." 
 
 For an instant, Brade looked as if he thought that she 
 was making fun of him ; but presently he laughed, and 
 confessed that " he ought to know Russian, but he did 
 not." And when she asked him slowly, not with 
 "archness," which was not her style, but with broad- 
 ness and massiveness, lightened by a smile of intelli- 
 gence, " ' Sm iff Hryai, isn't it ? /Smis nryai ? ' " then, 
 as she would have said, she "had got him." As 
 soon as he fairly took in the two cabalistic words, ho
 
 34-1 ANTONY BEADS. 
 
 laughed, to be sure ; but at the same time he blushed 
 all over. She had touched a tender place. " It's all 
 safe with me," she said, to reassure him. 
 
 " That was a secret," Brade told her. " That was a 
 kind of unknown tongue ; " but Mrs. Wadham, though 
 (as she might have said) " very much the mother in her 
 disposition," was a woman of observation and experi- 
 ence. She saw for herself his blushes ; she saw his em- 
 barrassment. She might, perhaps, with some reason, 
 think that she had the key in the very wards of the 
 lock now. 
 
 If the reader will remember that these two words rep- 
 resented, in the private language which we saw under- 
 going its making, the beginning of a letter, " Miss 
 Ryan, I," he will not wonder at a little confusion, on 
 the boy's part ; but if he recalls that wish expressed 
 when " THE LANGUAGE " was made, that the Post- 
 master-General, or some great person, might light upon 
 it, he will believe that our young author must have felt 
 a stir and glow of pleasurable mystery and importance 
 at seeing Mrs. Wadham try her teeth upon the secret. 
 
 " Are we beginning to have a little confidence ? " she 
 asked ; and then, applying the method which she had 
 announced from the beginning, cemented the " confi- 
 dence :" 
 
 " That'll do for the present. It's all perfectly safe 
 with me;" and put him under her daughter's charge to 
 look at flowers and books, and whatever he liked. 
 
 Then Mrs. Wadham had made a visit to the city. 
 Her daughter cautioned her, beforehand, " not to make 
 a fool of herself with that language," and was assured 
 that she "would do just right about it, exactly, no 
 more and no less."
 
 MRS. WADHAMS PARTY. 345 
 
 Mrs. Wadham had been away from home, day after 
 day, for a good many days. No letters came from her ; 
 and it was thought at home, by Mr. Greenwood, who 
 smiled over it, and Miss Minette, who assented with a 
 smile, that " she must be pretty hard at work." " He 
 thought the first one she met, with a Russian Bible and 
 Dictionary under his arms, would satisfy her." 
 
 At length she had come back. " One thing," she 
 said, " she had found out, at any rate : it wasn't Rus- 
 sian, that was a clear case. It wasn't Russian." 
 
 " Well, let's see : how did the impression first get 
 about that the boy was a Russian ? " asked Mr. Green- 
 wood, thoughtfully. 
 
 Mrs. Wadharn was not easily stirred from her strong 
 and solid standing, wherever she might have set her- 
 self. 
 
 "I hope you don't think I mean to give up every 
 thing, when I say he ain't a Russian ? " she said. " A 
 boy may be a foreign nobleman, without being a Rus- 
 sian, I suppose." 
 
 " Oh, certainly ! " said Mr. Greenwood, whose stores 
 of education were always at his command, " a Livonian, 
 Lithuanian, Esthonian, Tongusian " 
 
 "Well, we'll take the rest for granted," said Mrs. 
 Wadharn. " lie can be something besides Russian ? " 
 
 " Why, he can be something else and Russian, too," 
 said Mr. Greenwood. " He can be a Finnish gentle- 
 man, that is, a gentleman from Finland, or he 
 may be a Kalmuc Tartar, that's harder to catch than 
 a Parisian accent, or Greek, cither. The Emperor's 
 'Emperor of All the Russias: ' there are plenty of 'em. 
 They all talk different tongues, and one can't under- 
 stand a word the other says, and not more than every 
 15*
 
 846 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 other word he says himself. I doubt if I could have 
 understood the Russian Ambassador. It would depend 
 upon what part of the country he came from, it 
 would be just as it happened." 
 
 "I thought you knew Russian? " said the lady, whose 
 memory was good. 
 
 " Ah ! I don't make myself clear," he said. " I was 
 just saying that one Russian don't understand another, 
 and he may be a Russian in every hair of his head. 
 If you can't know 'em all, you take any one. I chose 
 Old Muscovite, as central, including Cossack." 
 
 " I don't see much use in having Russians, at that 
 rate," said Mrs. Wadham. "Well, that doesn't any 
 ways excuse the Russian Ambassador. My note was 
 English ; and there's only one English, I think." 
 
 What methods she had used in her research 
 whether she had shown her manuscript to some one in 
 the peculiar guise of a Russian seafarer, as Mr. Green- 
 wood thought likely, or had been in correspondence 
 with men learned in languages she carefully kept to 
 herself. From her saying that " she had naturally, 
 during her visit, met with several distinguished schol- 
 ars," it might be thought that she had communicated 
 with professors of the neighboring university. 
 
 One thing she waS emphatic about : that " she her- 
 self was as near to that boy, and as near to his secret, 
 as anybody was : she had touched a chord ; she had 
 opened an avenue." 
 
 Mr. Greenwood and MissMinette were anxious about 
 the party and the tableaux and the fun ; but Mrs. 
 Wadham set all apprehensions at rest. " The party," 
 she assured them, " would go on. She should give a 
 particular character to it. The boy might not be Rus-
 
 MBS. WADHAM'8 PARTY. 347 
 
 sian ; but that didn't matter. He was something. Mr. 
 Parmenter had, most likely, thought it was pretty 
 sharp, going to Mr. Bates. Who couldn't go to Mr. 
 Bates? Anybody would think of that. Mr. Bates 
 didn't know any thing. All Mr. Bates knew was the 
 money was sent him, twice a year, as regular as the 
 clock. If he wanted more, all he had to do was to 
 say so. That was what Mr. Bates knew. The party 
 was for her sons and their friends, and she should give 
 a particular character to it. : ' 
 
 Mrs. Wadham needed no long time to feel again the 
 influences of home and habit ; to be full of herself 
 again and of her plans ; to be well seated, and to get 
 the reins of things well into her hands, and well- 
 charged with electric sympathy between the driver and 
 the animated and inanimate things that she controlled. 
 
 The eyes of Eastham had soon followed her progress 
 on more than one errand to and from the pretty cottage 
 in which Mrs. Ryan lived with Kate and one domestic. 
 The general mind of Eastham, too, to which that of 
 Eldridge contributed, and also that of Uncle Nat Bor- 
 rows, who hobbled about Mrs. Ryan's out-door chores, 
 exercised itself daily, at store or post-office, with these 
 and other things. It knew that one of Mrs. Wad- 
 ham's visits and this, as it happened, on a very raw 
 and chilly December's day had been " to see the fruit- 
 trees;" and recalled the fact that "there wasn't but 
 about one old gnarled apple-tree and two-three damson- 
 plums, on that place ; and they couldn't be expected 
 to be doing a dreadful sight, not at that season of the 
 year." The general mind drew forth from its stores 
 the fact that " there was some folks that wanted to 
 make out that there was something underhand between
 
 348 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 the Ryans and that handsome-looking Brade boy, up 
 there, to the School." 
 
 So, in discussing this visit, the general face of East- 
 ham wore a smile of wonder ; and it was " guessed 
 them fruit-trees wa'n't all." 
 
 Much the same process was gone through with, in 
 the discussion of another visit, "to taste Mrs. Ryan's 
 water." The public said : " To be sure, there wa'n't no 
 water in Eastham but what was good ; but, if there 
 was any water in Eastham that most gen'lly had a 
 kind of a washy taste, spring and fall times, it was on 
 that Farebrother place. Most likely Miss Wadham 
 wanted something more'n that." 
 
 Therefore the public smiled at this also. 
 
 Then there was at least one other visit, "to ask 
 Miss Kate to take part in a tableau at her house " 
 (Mrs. Wadham's). " This," in the opinion of the same 
 public, " looked all square and business-like ; but it 
 was well known to them (the public) she'd praised up 
 the Roossians to Miss Ryan, and Miss Ryan told her she 
 didn't know nothing about the Roossians. Now, what 
 she wanted was to find out if there was any thing 
 between that boy and them ; and, if she'd only asked 
 the neighbors, they could ha' told her fast enough that 
 he'd been seen with one or t'other of 'em more'n once " 
 (" yes, time an' time again," Jake Moody said) " 'thout 
 any smellin' round apples an' plums that wa'n't there, 
 an' drinkin' water that wa'n't no great, no time o' year ;" 
 " an' that wouldn't show that he was a Roossian," added 
 the public ; " if any thing, jest the exact contrary, for 
 the Ryans wasn't Roossians." 
 
 The public, therefore, felt reasonably hurt at Mrs. 
 Wadham's taking such a method, without availing
 
 MBS. WADHAM'S PARTY. 349 
 
 herself of the information already possessed by the 
 public. 
 
 The lady had her own way of going on, and went 
 her own way. 
 
 As for the coming festivity at her house, we know 
 what amount of information she has shared with Mr. 
 Don, and we remember how she enjoined secrecy upon 
 Mr. Greenwood. Now Mrs. Wadham had given it to 
 be understood that the forthcoming affair at her house 
 " was not going to be a great climax of a party, a 
 ball, or any thing like that. It was just a pleasant little 
 entertainment, that's what you might call it, an 
 entertainment, pleasant and agreeable, of course (she 
 couldn't have any thing that wasn't pleasant and 
 agreeable). It was for her sons' friends, and to show 
 a little attention to that young stranger in Albert's 
 Form." 
 
 Now, to the Eastham circle that festivity, however 
 it might rank in its relations to the great world of 
 fashion, was not a small thing. It was an approaching 
 event; and intimations had been fleeting through the 
 community, keeping men's minds, and maiden's minds, 
 astir. 
 
 As before the strong wind from the north comes 
 down and possesses the lands, we see, up towards the 
 pole, a flashing and glancing like that from icy scimitars 
 and javelins of a dread spectral army of fleet Scythians, 
 gathering from all the frozen seas and lands ; or as, on 
 or about the morning of the great St. Martin of Tours, 
 the wise eyes that greet the earlier day see every- 
 where a staid, still-standing fog, and brighten with the 
 hope of " Indian Summer," and, hoping, watch the 
 hours until the sun, all things now being ready, sends
 
 350 ANTONY DRADE. 
 
 off the fog, by this time thinned to mist, and lays all- 
 open the smoky haunts of vales and woodlands where, 
 never to be caught, if followed after, all things seem 
 offering up their incense ; or, as when beneath the 
 league-deep and unlighted seas, while one or other con- 
 tinent is trembling with the shock of hosts, or feels the 
 crash of rotten empire or of heart-eaten party going 
 down, the Nereid or Triton, whose head is pillowed on 
 the twisted cable, conscious, in sleep, of thrilling mes- 
 sages that are passing to and fro between the two 
 halves of the world, turns on the other side, so, before 
 Mrs. Wadham's " entertainment," there were flashing 
 intimations and waiting hopes and thrilling communi- 
 cations, and watching of signs and tokens. 
 
 The boys of St. Bartholomew's had caught an ink- 
 ling of the preparations that " Wadham's mother was 
 making for a jolly show ; " and we are very sure that 
 the lucky fellows, of the three upper forms, who, it was 
 understood, were going, wished it might come, although 
 they took the time between in comfort. Blake regretted 
 that "he had an engagement for that afternoon, but he 
 
 o o * 
 
 hoped to see part of it." 
 
 On the other hand, of the younger girls of Eastham, 
 those who, under the self-adjusting machinery for in- 
 taking and out-shutting the rising candidates for " so- 
 ciety," might look forward to being present, some 
 doubtless felt, as some good and pretty girls, else- 
 where, that "they didn't want to see those nasty boys 
 (or those great ugly boys)," while, to others, these 
 youthful men were radiant with all that gelatinous and 
 phosphorescent glory and beauty which, to the females 
 of different degrees of age, dwelling in college towns, 
 clothe the young forms of Juniors, Sophomores (shall
 
 MBS. WADIIAM'S PARTY. 351 
 
 we say Freshmen too ?) preparing to be the hope and 
 light of the world. 
 
 Mrs. Wadham had become all strong again, evenly 
 weighted, equal to every thing. 
 
 The party came. Between the hours of half-past 
 two and half-past five o'clock in the afternoon, all was 
 to begin, go on, and be done. 
 
 The boys were early, and the elders were not late. 
 The lady of the house was red and hot, in contrast to 
 the wondrous coldness out of which her guests came in ; 
 for of the energetic atoms of her blood great numbers 
 were rushing this way and that, and of these a great 
 many were crowded behind the thick, but porous 
 covering of her face, and busied themselves with put- 
 ting forth, in countless beady drops, a dew like that 
 upon the garden's broader leaves ; but, hot or other- 
 wise, she was Mrs. Wadham. 
 
 Miss Minette had on a gay company manner, and was 
 very lively with the gentlemen from St. Bartholomew's, 
 'and with some of its boys. 
 
 The house was fragrant with sweet flowers, and warm 
 as the balmiest days of spring; and so Mr. Parmenter, 
 and so others, told the hostess. 
 
 Mr. Greenwood, bright and bustling, moved about 
 the rooms with prompt and lively bow and recovery, 
 making every one feel at home and curious for the 
 pleasant little entertainment, which was to make one 
 of the chief occupations of the afternoon. 
 
 Among the guests the city-gentlemen of the neigh- 
 borhood, with their families, appeared, of course. Mr. 
 Manson, with the Rector of the School and one or two 
 of the Trustees (of course, Dr. Farwell, and his Com- 
 mittee), were there. There, too, of course, was Mr.
 
 352 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 Parmenter. A select number of the younger Easthara 
 people, including the young Misses Bemis and Miss 
 Ryan, were there ; and, not to be too particular, there 
 was the estimable widow, Mrs. Osborn, sought out 
 by all the more gallant gentlemen as very bright and 
 chatty. 
 
 Brade was presented to Mrs. Osborn and some 
 younger ladies, and satisfied all reasonable demands, 
 in being neither pert nor sheepish. Refnsen shared in 
 the attention paid to his friend. Brade himself put 
 forward Peters, and brought him out as much as he 
 would bear. 
 
 Russell was there, and Lamson, and Gaston, and 
 Meadows, and Hutchins, and Towne. Our friend Blake 
 was missed. 
 
 Boys, with fresh-trimrned hair and careful neck-ties, 
 in twos and threes and half-dozens, ready for fun, and 
 more or less full of it, were everywhere. 
 
 The Russian Ambassador, " without," as Mrs. Wad- 
 ham said, " affording any explanation not the least " 
 was absent. " Mr. Greenwood," she said, " had done 
 the best he could, under the circumstances ; " and this 
 information Mr. Greenwood supplemented by saying 
 modestly that " he had told 'em to scare up the foreign- 
 est-looking fellow they could find, among those Russian 
 consuls, and send him on." 
 
 This was Mr. Greenwood's information to the com- 
 pany; but to Mrs. Wadham he had given privately a 
 much more important piece of intelligence : " He was 
 sure, he told her, there was something between Brade 
 and that Count Blakisoff." 
 
 " How do you mean something between 'em?" she 
 asked, gravely, being not disposed to accept statements
 
 MBS. WADHAM^S PARTY. 353 
 
 without sufficient examination, even when time was 
 very pressing, and not disposed to have other people 
 thread her mysteries for her, or get the start of her in 
 finding information. 
 
 "Nearly connected," said Mr. Greenwood, feeling the 
 pressure of time, " family relation. That's why the 
 Count's round here incog. He's under an assumed 
 name." 
 
 " What do you mean by an assumed name ? " she 
 asked. " You mean that Blacksop isn't his name ? 
 What is his name ? " 
 
 It was evident that, even if time pressed, she felt the 
 importance of using time. 
 
 " I don't believe it's very far off, a little disguised. 
 When there was a king of Naples, he travelled as Conte 
 di Palermo ; King of France, Comte de Versailles ; 
 Benjamin Thompson, Count Rumford. Must have an 
 eye to this fellow. Watch him with Brade." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Mrs. Wadham, receiving his information 
 without any formal acknowledgment, and reserving 
 herself for her own judgment and guidance. 
 
 This hurried conversation had been snatched in the 
 very midst of the throng of duties. 
 
 The Count Blakisoff's remarkable appearance more 
 than confirmed Mr. Greenwood's account of the stand- 
 ard by which he had been picked out for a guest of 
 Mrs. Wadham. Although, like many eminent men 
 from other lands, he was not large, yet he 'had his 
 sandy, northern hair brushed down over his forehead, 
 and yet brushed out to right and left with such per- 
 fect soldierly smoothness, and on his face bore such 
 an amount of sand-colored hairy clothing, trimmed 
 to so great variety of ornamental shape, as whis-
 
 354 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 kers sweeping 'out over his shoulders; lip-locks drawn 
 across each way so stiffly and so far as to seem 
 to court collision and affront ; his very eyebrows 
 spreading out strongly to each side beyond his tem- 
 ples ; beside these a chin-beard going down and 
 tapering to a strong point ; to say nothing of his 
 yellow gloves and the " frogs " upon his queer-looking 
 coat, enough to overrun half Lower Egypt, that who- 
 ever lifted up his eyes in any direction could not fail to 
 see this wondrous man. Many were looking at him al- 
 most all the time ; and some of them, considering that he 
 was a foreigner, took turns in staring at him and then 
 facing about and making fun of him. The lady of the 
 house herself talked of him at a short distance, much 
 as she might talk of a horse or a lamp-post. 
 
 She carefully discharged the duties of a hostess by 
 bringing up one and another with the address " Count 
 
 (I don't remember his name), this is my friend 
 
 (Dr. Farwell, or Mr. Parmenter, or Mr. Merritt, or Mr. 
 Don)," and commending them (to herself) as they 
 bowed and were bowed at with the brief words, half- 
 aside, " That's it," as if both she and they had acquitted 
 themselves well in a foreign language. 
 
 Of all the Russian nationalities, the general conclu- 
 sion was that this gentleman was a Cossack ; and most 
 people were satisfied with Mr. Greenwood's assurance 
 that " he himself was one of the few persons in this 
 country, probably, to whom the Cossack language 
 presented no difficulty whatever." 
 
 Now, foreigners are not insensible ; and, where their 
 honest ears have never been attuned to the jargon of 
 our English speech, their eyes are delicate of intuition, 
 and their hearts quick to feel, in a strange land. Mr.
 
 MBS. WADHAM^S PARTY. 355 
 
 Greenwood was not unmindful of the claims of hospi- 
 tality, but came from time to time (of course his time 
 was precious), and made a point of treating the well- 
 bearded guest with marked attention. He told Mrs. 
 Wadham, aside, on one of those excursions, that " he 
 had not shown him Brade, till by and by ; and this was 
 the most extraordinary fellow, Russian to the back- 
 bone, not an English word in him." 
 
 To Mr. Greenwood's ceremonious attentions, the 
 foreigner responded, mostly, by solemn inclinations of 
 the body. His words were very few, although these 
 few were often so effective as to amuse the only intel- 
 ligent hearer (Mr. Greenwood) very much, and make 
 him, before returning a sprightly answer, look round to 
 see whether some little intelligence of the wit or wis- 
 dom might not make its way to others. " He's a Rus- 
 sian of the first water, or rather ice," he assured the 
 company, on leaving him. It added to the force of the 
 Cossack gentleman's wit that he was never once seen 
 to smile. 
 
 " But how's he going to do business at the Custom 
 House," asked one of the city-men, " if he don't know 
 any English ? " 
 
 Antony Brade, of whom all the guests had doubtless 
 heard more or less, not only had much made of him 
 by the hostess, and was encouraged by Mrs. Osborn's 
 amusing herself with him, and was introduced to the 
 Misses Bemis and others, but also, we may be sure, ex- 
 changed a look or two (not many), and a word or two 
 (under a little embarrassment) with Miss Kate Ryan, who 
 was with them. As it was he, chiefly, with whom this 
 " entertainment " of Mrs. Wadham's was associated, he 
 was well looked at and admired, mostly by the female
 
 356 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 part of the company, Avhile there were some, both 
 male and female, who said that he looked much like 
 any other boy. He certainly took things very quietly, 
 and enjoyed himself simply and freely, as a boy with 
 fresh clean blood in him ought to enjoy himself. The 
 boys, generally, talked and laughed, among themselves, 
 and moved about ; and so did JBrade. 
 
 Mr. Don confessed that he had two desires which he 
 hoped, somehow, to have gratified, in the course of the 
 evening ; and these were to have a little communica- 
 tion with the Count Blakisoff, " who had to him," he 
 said, "very much the appearance of the ideal Russian," 
 and to bring young Brade into communication with that 
 nobleman. 
 
 The hostess had arranged for the boys having a good 
 feed, soon after they got to the house. " Boys like to 
 eat," she said, " and I'd give 'em plenty. 'Taint as 'tis 
 with grown-up people : after they've eaten, boys want 
 to go right at something. We can put 'em to acting 
 right away. My Edmund and Albert'll both be there, 
 among 'em," she added. 
 
 This plan, therefore, was adopted ; and while the elder 
 guests, among themselves, talked of the last change of 
 hours upon the Railway ; of whether anybody could re- 
 member a year in which the Rock-crystal Ice Company 
 had begun cutting so early as that year (having, as one 
 of the city-men said, a heavy contract to fill) ; of the 
 last demand of" The Welded Workingmen" (of whom 
 Mr. Greenwood absurdly said that " he would rather 
 hear of a few well-doing workingmen, than of any num- 
 ber that had well-did ") ; and while they handled the 
 statuettes, and pulled some leaves of the geraniums, 
 there came in to them such sounds as a crowd of boys
 
 MRS. WADHAM'S PARTY. 357 
 
 make, when they are stuffing their mouths so fast and 
 so full that the words have to climb over lumps of 
 frozen cream or salad, and junks of cake, and yet are 
 jabbering with every mouth of them all. These things, 
 taken together, were appetizing to mouths and stomachs 
 more advanced in years. 
 
 " Did you ever observe," asked Dr. Farwell of Mr. 
 Manson, and his eyes twinkled merrily, "what a 
 sympathy there is between people's stomachs? You 
 may convince their heads " (emphatic, with an accom- 
 panying gesture of the shut hand, with the thumb on 
 top, brought toward the breast), " you may persuade 
 their hearts " (with like emphasis and gesture) ; " but 
 give 'em roast turkey " (emphasis and gesture as before), 
 "give 'em fried oysters, give 'em chicken salad, and you've 
 got 'em 'ung rapaw /'* (Now, Merritt, don't you be 
 laughing at my French : it's very good French)." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter was mannerly and inclined to impres- 
 sive conversation. His approach to Mrs. Osborn was 
 particularly ceremonious and polite ; Mr. Don, at the 
 same time, retiring from her side with the remark that 
 " he was glad to have his place so well occupied." 
 
 The din of boys began to slacken ; and Mr. Green- 
 wood, who had appeared and disappeared, continually, 
 announced from the middle of the folding-doors, " An 
 entertainment consisting of a piece of the life of a great 
 foreign people, the Russian." The word caught the 
 general ear ; and a little buzz of questioning, together 
 with a looking round to see where the exhibition was 
 or what place it was to come from, followed. Boys 
 
 * The French of our excellent divine is a little peculiar. 
 Judged by the ear, this was probably meant for what some would 
 pronounce " en rapport."
 
 358 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 with marks of feeding on them began to come in; little 
 Meadows, with his mouth still full and active, and with 
 a piece of cake in his hand. 
 
 A most inspiriting strain from a French horn, which 
 the boys all greeted, with subdued acclamation, as 
 " Ned Prouty, from the village," stirred up the blood 
 in an instant, and then stopped as suddenly, in the 
 midst of a note, as if it had been killed. Then, at a 
 side of one of the larger rooms, into what some of the 
 gentlemen, who were not unintelligent, thought was 
 surely the supper-room, but afterwards determined to be 
 " that big library-room of Mrs. Wadhnm's," folding-doors 
 were opened, and then silence crept over almost all the 
 company. A movement took place to secure good 
 stands for seeing ; Mr. Parmenter gallantly helping 
 Mrs. Osborn forward, and Hutchins and Remsen and 
 Towne and Wadham First doing the same for the 
 Misses Bemis and others. Kate Ryan, who, as Hutchins 
 said, was, by all odds, the prettiest girl in the room, was 
 not to be found. 
 
 The hostess, having seen her guests arranged, took 
 the foreign nobleman, with words in English, and a 
 wave of the hand in the language of nature, and sta- 
 tioned herself and him at a side door from the entry, in 
 full view. 
 
 Mrs. Wadham announced that "all this was Mr. 
 Greenwood's, she had left it all to him." 
 
 The room which had just been opened had been 
 wondrously fitted up. An ice-hill, down which a host 
 of capped and furred and mittened people were going 
 on hand-sleds, as if for their lives, made a side scene. 
 An icy plain stretched from this side to the other, with 
 booths and tents, and a prospect of domes and towers
 
 MRS. WADHAM'S PARTY. 359 
 
 beyond. At the left side was a throne, gorgeous to 
 look at, and on it sat a royally-dressed young person, 
 with a resplendent and far flashing diadem above his 
 commanding brow. Over his head was a rich canopy, on 
 whose front was an eagle, with a most imperial crown. 
 
 " The river Neva, in winter," said Mr. Greenwood. 
 " St. Petersburg close by ! " 
 
 It was a splendid scene of ice and snow. 
 
 " It makes you cold all over, doesn't it ? " said a boy's 
 voice. It was from Peters, whose fancy was lively, and 
 whose speech was impulsive. He had not heeded the 
 general stillness, and was abashed, when he found that 
 he had made himself heard by the whole company. 
 
 " Wouldn't I like to be on one of those hand-sleds ? " 
 said Towne, with much less unconsciousness. 
 
 " Who's that king or whatever he is ? " asked a good 
 many of the company. " Is this Master Brade ? " Mr. 
 Parmenter asked. 
 
 The boys applauded ; a buzz of approbation went 
 over the whole room ; while in a little louder voice, 
 but not obtrusively, Mr. Parmenter called Mrs. Osborn's 
 attention to " the happy effects of the various-colored 
 booths ; " and Mr. Don, to Miss Minette, admired the 
 general gorgeousness of every thing. Mrs. Wadham 
 announced that Mr. Greenwood would explain. 
 
 Mr. Greenwood, the Master of Ceremonies, spoke 
 aloud : 
 
 " It had been the purpose of his Majesty, the Empe- 
 ror," said he, " in providing this entertainment, to have 
 it accompanied by a series of Russian airs ; but, as the 
 Russian air is harsher than we are accustomed to 
 breathe (and our own" shrugging his shoulders 
 "is cold enough, just now, in all conscience), it was
 
 360 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 thought best to modify the programme. You have be- 
 fore you, ladies and gentlemen, in a compact form, ' the 
 Heir of all the Russias.' " 
 
 Miss Minette made her part of the room very lively, 
 a little noisy, perhaps, but very lively. 
 
 There was a general good-nature, and everybody 
 laughed, unless, perhaps, the Cossack gentleman ; and 
 then a dead silence came again, into which was uttered 
 the last part of some pointed sentence which Mr. Mer- 
 ritt was uttering to Dr. Farwell, under cover of the 
 general excitement. 
 
 " the air of it, hasn't he ?" 
 
 As soon as a new buzz of applause, at the Czarevitch's 
 graceful salutation of the company, offered another 
 " cover," the Doctor reciprocated (for wise men show 
 their wisdom in nothing better than in their unbending) 
 by saying, with his eyes twinkling, " Pie's an airrogant- 
 looking fellow, certainly." 
 
 So the divines were evidently not without their share 
 of the general hilarity. 
 
 The Master of Ceremonies continued: 
 
 "The Czarevitch (vitch is the Czar that's going to 
 be), on coming to his throne, takes it out with him, and 
 seats himself upon it. The scene that follows is to 
 exhibit to the world the fact that that which is supposed 
 to be one of the strictest despotisms is consistent with 
 the most absolute democracy. You will see the Rus- 
 sians exercise one of their dearest prerogatives, that 
 of shooting at the crown. This privilege is common to 
 the lowest and the highest, and lasts three days. We 
 shall let you off with two of them. The weather, you 
 observe, is wintry ; but it's warm work, as you may 
 suppose ; so the Czarevitch will be able to keep himself 
 comfortable, in that respect."
 
 MRS. WADHAM'S PARTY. 361 
 
 Mr. Don, while the amateur Master of Ceremonies 
 was giving this information, had, on his tiptoes, lightly 
 found his way across, and taken his silent stand beside 
 the Cossack, to whom, on approaching, he had gone 
 through with a lavish dumb show, of bows and wavings 
 of the hand ; and pointing to himself and then to the 
 floor, by way of implying, in the language of universal 
 nature, that he intended to occupy that spot ; while a 
 third pointing, to the courteous foreigner, implied that 
 its being near him gave the place its great attraction. 
 
 Mr. Don was not wrong in expecting to be met half- 
 way, in the language of universal nature. The foreign 
 gentleman talked it with shoulders and elbows, and 
 hand laid to his frog-covered heart, wonderfully. 
 
 The performance divided the attention of a consid- 
 erable part of the company, even with the lively Mas- 
 ter of Ceremonies and the counterfeit presentment of 
 the Czarevitch ; and the sight of this intelligent foreigner 
 engaged in a well-meant attempt to exchange courtesies 
 with a polite American was too much for the self-con- 
 trol of most of the younger, and a good many of the 
 older witnesses of it. It must be confessed that there 
 was something extremely droll at times, perhaps, to 
 excitable spirits, overpoweringly droll in the look of 
 the distinguished guest. 
 
 Our young friend who represented Russian empire 
 showed himself made of stuff like other mortals, when 
 the man happened, while looking his very solemnest, to 
 lay his foreign forefinger by his nose. The Cossack 
 gentleman was again the object of thoughtless mirth. 
 His own behavior, meanwhile, was exceedingly digni- 
 fied, as he employed his hands on the abundant hair 
 of his face. 
 16
 
 362 ANTONY BEADE. 
 
 The breach of good manners grieved those who had 
 good manners most at heart. Mr. Parmenter had not 
 been unobservant or indifferent ; and, in behalf of pro- 
 priety and hospitality, uttered aloud the statement 
 that " he should be sorry to see any forgetfulness of the 
 laws of courtesy, and was confident that nothing of 
 that sort would take place." 
 
 The lady of the house was herself mistress of the 
 occasion. 
 
 " Tell him," she said, " that we enjoy him " (" His ap- 
 pearance is certainly peculiar," she said, without much 
 sinking of voice, to those about her, because she knew 
 that he could not understand more than one person in 
 the room, or, possibly, two), " and tell him there'll be 
 refreshments after the play about his country. That 
 goes to foreigners' hearts as quick as anybody's : every- 
 body understands eating." 
 
 While Mr. Greenwood was giving this agreeable 
 message to the noble foreigner, a voice was heard, in 
 moderate but prevailing tones, from a corner in which 
 a number of gentlemen were gathered : 
 
 "That's singular, now. How can you account for 
 that coincidence ? That's the very thing I was saying 
 a little while ago." 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Manson, "and you observe she says 
 there'll be ' ung repaw ' pretty soon, too." 
 
 " Not quite the Parisian accent, perhaps, but " 
 
 " Pretty good ! " said Mr. Merritt, who, as we" have 
 seen, can make some pretensions in the languages: 
 "un repas, a feed." 
 
 Mr. Greenwood was quick-witted and ready enough 
 to devote a little side attention to his Cossack noble- 
 man. He interrupted himself:
 
 MRS. WADHAM^S PARTY. 363 
 
 "My friend," he said, "the Count Ultrovian Blakisoff 
 has the remarkable versatility and the wonderful facility 
 for languages which make his countrymen so desirable 
 to colleges and places of education. Entirely unac- 
 quainted with English, he can instantly master the 
 phonetic signs, when written distinctly, which represent 
 it on paper. While the Czarevitch is waiting impa- 
 tiently, as you see him, for the performances of his 
 dilatory subjects to begin, the Count may, perhaps, be 
 persuaded to gratify us in a way that will astonish 
 those to whom opportunities of witnessing such ac- 
 complishments are rare." 
 
 There was now a decent silence, and the faces of the 
 company were generally smoothed. The representative 
 of Muscovite majesty recovered himself. Mr. Green- 
 wood, with an elegant stride, and placing the heel of 
 his right foot in the hollow of his left, with such an 
 air as almost to disturb again the general gravity, 
 planted himself in front of the Count, and, drawing 
 with a flourish from his pocket a paper on which were 
 a few musical notes and some words, presented it with 
 a low bow to the foreigner, and said something which 
 was not English. He then hastened to the side of 
 the scenes, and apparently gave a direction. 
 
 The Count took the paper with as much gesture as 
 he had before bestowed upon Mr. Don, held it at arm's 
 length, and suddenly burst forth in song : 
 
 " Mee langguidge ees the Roosshin tongs : 
 Hi spake hit like a buck ; " 
 
 And then, with the modesty and simplicity character- 
 istic of accomplished foreigners when they hare distin- 
 guished themselves, solemnly handed the paper back.
 
 364 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " Do they grow Cossacks in Ireland ? " asked one of 
 the city-men; and to more purpose was heard the 
 wise voice of Dr. Farwell, asking whether a phenom- 
 enon of that sort a man's singing right off, in a 
 language that was perfectly strange to him was to 
 be explained in the same way that a stutterer could 
 sing a thing that he couldn't read a word of. 
 
 This revelation was, as Mr. Greenwood had predicted, 
 sufficiently astonishing ; and the rooms were all in a 
 flutter. It would be too much to say that all faces 
 were serious ; for there had been something a little 
 peculiar, after all, in the pronunciation and accent, 
 and the voice for a voice coming out of such an 
 ambush of hair was rather slender ; but just then 
 Ned Prouty's all-enlivening horn took captive every 
 ear, as it struck up " March to the Battle-field ! " 
 
 Mr. Don was a man ready for occasions. With au 
 intelligent look he presented to the eyes of the foreign 
 linguist a soiled and crumpled bit of paper, like the 
 " document " which we have seen, to which paper he 
 pointed, and of which he asked, with a most expressive 
 raising of the eyebrows and throwing of the head on 
 one side, a question whose " waste " alone, like water 
 from a mill-wheel, ran out in the words : " This ? any- 
 thing?" its strength having been spent in the face 
 above. 
 
 The stranger, with his hand again upon his frog- 
 enveloped heart, looked at the paper, and to the ques- 
 tion in the universal language assented strongly with 
 his head. 
 
 This scene had not been lost upon the eyes of Mrs. 
 Wadham, who turned and watched it closely. 
 
 Suddenly a shot was heard, and the representative of
 
 MBS. WADHAM'S PARTY. 365 
 
 majesty put his hand to his head. Of course all eyes 
 were fixed upon the stage, and all was still; a smell 
 of gunpowder mingled itself with the sweet scents 
 of flowers and pocket-handkerchiefs. 
 
 This time no harm had been done apparently. 
 
 Mrs. Wadham declared that " she supposed her time 
 was come : she never could stand fire-arms." Some of 
 the gentlemen jocosely asked " Champagne ? " 
 
 The Manager assured the company that "probably 
 few, if any, bullets of lead remained in the rifles, as he 
 had employed a careful hand, with a No. 3 Faber's 
 lead-pencil, to draw all the balls, and substitute some- 
 thing more comfortable." 
 
 The little descent from dignity in this about the 
 pencil was probably intended for a certain class of 
 minds. The boys appreciated it. 
 
 " I think I may safely assure the ladies, on Mr. Green- 
 wood's authority," said Mr. Parmenter, " there is not 
 the slightest danger." 
 
 o o 
 
 A voice from the group of Trustees in the corner, 
 which our readers may be able to assign to its owner, 
 said, " I think I should bawl if I was that chap on the 
 throne." 
 
 The ladies moved uneasily. Some of the gentle- 
 men, laughingly, thought it was time to adjourn. A 
 lovely female figure rushed upon the stage, in splendid 
 robes that matched the Czarevitch's. " That's Miss 
 Ryan ! " said the Bemises ; and then a Russian of the 
 Russians, with sheepskin hat, coat, trousers, mittens, 
 and boots, and a beard of much the same general 
 character, appeared. He and his wife and seven chil- 
 dren, in a line, bore his formidable weapon. He kneeled 
 upon his knees, first took off his hat in obeisance to his
 
 366 ANTONY BEADS. 
 
 liege lord, and then, resuming it, he and his family 
 arranged the gun upon their shoulders, in a slope up to 
 the wife ! and so it reached from him, squatting at one 
 side of the stage, close up to the princely potentate's 
 crown, with his head inside, at the other. 
 
 " Your scene is very w r ell got up indeed, sir," said 
 Mr. Don ; " but I hardly think they would let the man 
 get quite so close." 
 
 "True, sir," said the Master of Ceremonies. "In 
 point of fact they do not allow such dangerous prox- 
 imity. It's only the exigency of circumstances. Our 
 room is so narrow that we have to crowd a little. You 
 see a gun fifteen feet long (the usual length of the weap- 
 ons used on these occasions), in a room eighteen or 
 twenty feet wide, crowds us." 
 
 This was a mere mimic scene ; and yet, when this 
 long, dreadful-looking we'apon reached to such fatal 
 neighborhood of the boy's head, the Count, clasping his 
 hands, threw himself into a marvellous foreign attitude 
 of despair. This Mr. Don, as we should expect, appre- 
 ciated ; while the boys, and many beside them, seemed 
 not at all touched by the gravity of the situation. 
 Mrs. Wadham, almost pale at the appearance of the 
 gun, but bravely keeping her ground, at the crisis, 
 turned away from the threatening weapon ; but did 
 not forget to see what the Count was doing. 
 
 Mr. Parmenter gallantly advanced Mrs. Osborn 
 nearer to the scene, remarking that " there was a 
 great deal of merit in it, it would bear inspection." 
 He delicately replaced her light shawl which had fallen 
 from one shoulder. 
 
 " The Grand Duchess Alexandrovna " (explained Mr. 
 Greenwood) " interposes her eiforts (which the law of
 
 MRS. WADHAM'S PARTY. 367 
 
 Russia provides for) to persuade this resolute Muscovite 
 to forego his privilege. You see her appealing to his 
 veneration for the sacred person on the throne : he 
 squats unmoved : to his humanity : he puts tobacco in 
 his cheek, and lays his finger I should say his mit- 
 ten on the trigger ! " 
 
 Here Mr. Greenwood made what might be called a 
 rhetorical pause, to let the scene take its full effect. 
 
 " That fellow with the gun's Gaston or Lamson : 
 whore's Lamson ? " said Tom Hutching. " Ain't Brade 
 good ? " said Peters. 
 
 The Czarevitch sat with a lofty indifference to danger 
 becoming his high blood : his look of disgust, as he 
 saw the death-dealing muzzle so near, and glanced 
 
 O ' O 
 
 down the sloping backs of the enterprising family 
 which bore it, and as he shook out his dainty pocket- 
 handkerchief and held it between the frightful instru- 
 ment and himself, called forth immediate and universal 
 applause. 
 
 " A good deal of the dramatic gift there," said Mr. 
 Parmenter, who generally spoke well. " That fellow's 
 got it in him." "There's fun in that boy," said the 
 city-gentlemen : and indeed he was excellent, and hand- 
 some, too. The Grand-duchess, who at the applause 
 had glanced that way, seemed struck, and apparently 
 forgot herself; and then came back with a little 
 start. 
 
 While this was going on, the Count (not unobserved 
 by that considerate man, Mr. Don) was restless, and 
 seemed about to go forward. The mind of Mr. Don 
 was active, and doubtless weighed the emotions by 
 which the bosom of the foreigner was agitated. 
 
 Did he understand that this was only "acting"?
 
 368 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 Perhaps he was a partner in the scene. Mr. Don 
 humanely and politely (whatever might be the case 
 with the Count) addressed him, and accompanied the 
 address with lucid gesture. Pie smiled also, at the 
 same time, as if to show that he knew perfectly how 
 intelligent the Count was. 
 
 " Of course, sir, there's no danger," he said ; " they've 
 taken all precautions," shaking his head vehemently, 
 and throwing his hands asunder, rapidly, several times. 
 "Ha! I can't make him understand. I suppose he 
 knows." Then to the stranger again, with new energy, 
 " Of course 'it's all make-believe ! " and he shook his 
 head vehemently again. " Nothing in it, sir." Then 
 he smiled strongly, and said, " You understand, of 
 course." 
 
 Mrs. Wadham, divided between alarm for the issue 
 of the Princess's entreaties to stay the deadly firearm, 
 and her interest in the secret whose development was, 
 perhaps, to be hastened by the progress of the play, 
 held up her fan between herself and the actors, and from 
 time to time looked over it. Mr. Greenwood went on : 
 
 " The Princess having failed in her appeal to his ven- 
 eration, and to his humanity, now addresses the father 
 of a family with another argument. See how she lays 
 her hand first upon the bending wife, looking appeal- 
 ingly to him ; and then upon each successive bearer 
 of that frightful weapon, from the first-born daughter, 
 down through alternate sons and daughters to the last, 
 the joy of his father's eyes, whom you see innocently 
 occupied and amused with his own small nose. At 
 each she utters a few heart-moving words, and casts the 
 same pathetic and appealing glance to the father. She 
 is urging upon him the likelihood (too often warranted
 
 MBS. WADHAM'S PARTY. 369 
 
 by melancholy facts, in that country) that his gun will 
 burst, and so kill every member of his household. He 
 is unmoved. Now, having, with the instinctive sagacity 
 of a woman, reserved her crowning argument for the 
 last, she shows him that, in all probability, it will kill 
 him, too. He wavers. He might get along without his 
 family ; how could he get along without himself? Now 
 she lays her gentle hand upon the instrument of death, 
 to draw it from its fatal aim." 
 
 The " Princess Alexandrovna," of this little stage, 
 was certainly a lovely being. If royal or imperial 
 houses have so fair daughters often, they are happy ; 
 and so the company seemed to think ; for, led by Mr. 
 Parmenter, there was a general round of applause, in 
 which Tom Hutchins and the boys helped, to the echo. 
 Even the Count joined the prevailing enthusiasm; but, 
 in his foreign way, checked himself, after a few most 
 hearty clappings of his yellow-gloved hands, while all 
 the rest were going on, and stood mute and wonderful to 
 look at as before ; but every one, unless the Czarevitch, 
 was looking at the stage. No one seemed to enjoy him- 
 self with more quiet thoroughness than the Rector of the 
 School, to whom Mr. Manson called his neighbors' 
 attention. 
 
 The Czarovna Alexandrovna was drawing the gun 
 with a gentle energy, by its barrel, at a point somewhere 
 between the second son and third daughter, when the 
 extraordinary weapon gave way in the middle, and, at 
 the same time, the catastrophe against which she had 
 warned the unreflecting Muscovite took place : there 
 was an explosion, not loud, but effectual, and the 
 whole family, father, seven children, mother, struck 
 with a marvellous accuracy, fell at once to the 
 16* x
 
 370 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 ground, and lay motionless. The Princess, to the joy 
 of the audience, shown by much clapping of hands 
 and waving of* handkerchiefs (from Mrs. Osborn first, 
 and then from all the ladies), in this happy administra- 
 tion of poetical justice, stood unharmed, and, of course, 
 lovelier than before. She was very modest, and yet 
 became her part extremely well. 
 
 " There ought to be a patent for that powder," said 
 one of the city-gentlemen. 
 
 " Very moderate cost of ammunition," said Mr. 
 Parmenter. 
 
 " How are we meant to account for it," said a saga- 
 cious-sounding voice from the corner, which, though 
 doubtless addressed to some particular neighbor, was 
 permitted by the speaker, in a friendly way, to pervade 
 the several rooms, " that a whole family a whole Rus- 
 sian family, or, you may say, any other family, can be 
 put out of existence by a puff by a flash " 
 
 " I am glad that firin's over," said Mrs. Wadham, 
 " and no more harm done." 
 
 The Count with an animated action of the foot 
 showed that he would like to kick the prostrate father 
 of a family. 
 
 "The accident which has just occurred, such as very 
 often happens on these occasions," said the gentleman 
 manager, " will release the Czarevitch and give him com- 
 mand of his time. He attends the funeral, in state, accom- 
 panied by the nation at large. ("Neighborly people!" 
 said Mr Merritt.) " The Princess and the Czarevitch," 
 continued Mr. Greenwood, "congratulate one another; 
 and presently, with your permission, ladies and gen- 
 tlemen, our little play will come to an end." 
 
 " I don't see as we've discovered much, " said Mrs.
 
 MRS. WADHAM'S PARTY. 371 
 
 Wadhara, without much reserve, " unless you can make 
 something out of that Count." 
 
 " Well, keep an eye to the Count," said Mr. Green- 
 wood, privately. 
 
 A lovely blush suffused the cheek of the represent- 
 ative of the Princess Alexandrovna, as also those of 
 the young representative of imperial majesty, who now 
 descended from his throne and took her by the hand. 
 The reigning house of Romanoff is counted handsome, 
 but we doubt whether it ever appeared to better ad- 
 vantage in any two of its members, than here. One 
 thing distinguished these young persons from many 
 others : they were very delicate and distant in their 
 intercourse with each other. " Make a handsome 
 couple, that boy and girl, wouldn't they ? eh ! Mrs. 
 Osborn," said a city-gentleman. 
 
 Mrs. Osborn, who carried on a lively conversation 
 with three or four gentlemen at once, as well as with 
 Mr. Parmenter, remarked pleasantly that " she liked 
 Mr. Greenwood's disposal of his characters better than 
 Shakespeare's; for here he killed off only just those that 
 were wanted out of the way." Mr. Greenwood bowed, 
 with much flourish. Mrs. Wadham was not a person 
 to lose sight of a great purpose. 
 
 " What did you make out of that Count ? " she asked, 
 turning promptly to the intelligent inquirer, Mr. Don. 
 " Did he understand that paper ? " 
 
 "Well, ma'am, I can judge only by the eye, you 
 know," ho answered, " as I unfortunately cannot talk 
 Cossack. He seemed to recognize it, instantly, and to 
 be quite struck by it. The impression upon my mind 
 was a strong one; though, as I say, I couldn't hold 
 conversation with him."
 
 372 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 "Mother," said Miss Minette, behind her fan, hav- 
 ing worked her way to the neighborhood, " I'd let that 
 language go." 
 
 "I'll do what's right;" said the mother. "Who's 
 found out most about it, so far ? " 
 
 Instead of being ready to dismiss the pretty pageant 
 at the end, the public, if it might be judged by its 
 uproarious and long-kept-up applause, would gladly 
 have had the whole thing over again ; but the good 
 sense of the elders was convinced, and yielded. The fold- 
 ing doors were slowly closing on the imperial pair ; and 
 Ned Prouty, who had a soul of music in him, and a 
 sure taste which came of no passing fashion, sounded, 
 with really delicate feeling and tenderness, an Irish air, 
 which was lost, perhaps, on most of the company, but 
 to which Mrs. Osborn at once gave its name, and a 
 little more, " Though 'twas all but a dream at the 
 best, And still, when happiest, soonest q'er." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter assured her that "her way of uttering 
 the words (certainly very clear and graceful) gave them 
 a charm." 
 
 Everybody called for keeping the doors open till it 
 was done, and for the Czarevitch and Czarovna to stay 
 before admiring eyes ; but things in this world march 
 with inexorable steadiness toward their endings ; and 
 BO, while Prouty's bright coil of brass was making all 
 the unseen air musical, certain young fellows in the 
 attire of pages rushed in upon the stage and set them- 
 selves to the dragging off of the lifeless bodies of the 
 Muscovite family sacrificed in the exercise of their pre- 
 rogative. The jolting shook out from the father some 
 words which had, perhaps, lodged in his throat : " Heu, 
 me mis -^." To which of the inany tongues of the Great
 
 HES. WADHAH'S PARTY. 373 
 
 Empire they belong, our young readei's must find 
 out. 
 
 In the hasty and rather rough handling which these 
 remains received, a mitten worked off from the hand of 
 the youngest born and fell near Mrs. Osborn's feet. She 
 picked it up, smiling, and examined it; while Mr. 
 Greenwood, whose eyes were quick, begged her to keep 
 it as a little token of the afternoon's amusement. 
 
 Mr. Parmenter suggested that a mitten was an awk- 
 
 ~O 
 
 ward present to receive ; and Mrs. Osborn, in her pret- 
 tiest way, told him that " she must as"k him to relieve 
 her of it ; " and persisted, prettily, in making over to 
 him all her property in it. 
 
 At this the city-men made some pleasant remarks 
 among themselves ; and, as good jokes always bear 
 repetition, one of them good-humoredly told Mr. 
 Parmenter "they were just saying Mrs. Osborn had 
 given him the mitten." 
 
 " We'll call it a glove, " said Mr. Parmenter, 
 gallantly, and putting it in his bosom : " any thing 
 from Mrs. Osborn is worth keeping." 
 
 While this lively scene was going on, the hostess 
 was expressing to the two chief actors her solid ap- 
 proval and thanks for their performance. The Czare- 
 vitch was in good spirits, but not inclined to accept 
 any pi-aise "for just sitting still. Gaston and the rest 
 had done something." The Princess Alexandrovna was 
 a good deal excited at what she had been through. 
 
 "I hear the Count understands that unknown lan- 
 guage we talked about the other day, " said Mrs. 
 Wadham to the former. The Czarevitch looked em- 1 
 barrassed. The two young authors and owners of " The 
 Language" glanced at each other, but said nothing.
 
 374 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 Mrs. Wadham went on : "Mr. Don showed it to him. 
 Don't go, Miss Ryan : we ain't going to talk any se- 
 crets;" and when Kate, like a simple girl, expressed 
 her anxiety "to change those things for her own," 
 Mrs. Wadham assured her strongly : 
 
 " They're monstrously becoming, though, let me tell 
 you, young lady." 
 
 As Kate Ryan disappeared, the representative of the 
 Czarevitch, whom we may now, we suppose, call Antony 
 Brade, hastened to tell Mrs. Wadham, like an ingen- 
 uous boy, something to which she listened, very gravely, 
 looking him steadily in the face, in such a way as almost 
 to disconcert him. A sort of working seemed to be 
 going on in her, as palpably as that of swallowing goes 
 on : the whole Wadhamic system seemed to be engaged 
 in appropriating the communication. 
 
 " Yes," she said, taking a breath, when he had done ; 
 then, after looking at him another moment, to see if he 
 had any thing more to say, " Of course that's what it 
 was, of course it was. It was fun. Now we'll have 
 something else! Yes." 
 
 The boys' time was not up, nor were Mr. Green- 
 wood's resources for their amusement exhausted. 
 
 " It was our intention," said Mr. Greenwood, " to 
 give you a list of all the passages from history which 
 we have omitted to represent to-day, and which are, of 
 course, reserved ; but the list was rather long" (here he 
 showed a monstrous roll. At which some shrewd 
 observer said, " Have you got 'em all there ? No, you 
 don't, then ! ") Mr. Greenwood went on : " The read- 
 ing will therefore be dispensed with." 
 
 The party was chiefly for the boys : the Muse of His- 
 tory must therefore condescend with a good grace iu
 
 MA'S. WADHAM'S PARTY. 375 
 
 speaking of the entertainment. Charades were acted, 
 in which " buff- fell - oh ! " and " hip - hop - pop - what - 
 a- muss," and " blunder-buss," and " mag-pie " and " file- 
 and-throw-pie," and others, were spelled out, with great 
 energy; but they have no special bearing upon our 
 story, and we shall therefore ask the reader to fancy 
 and act them over for himself. 
 
 When the boys went away, Brade, at Mrs. Wadham's 
 solicitation, had special leave (considering his part, con- 
 sidering, also, his yet undiscovered relationship to the 
 Count) to stay an hour longer. Mr. Parmenter, who was 
 not now confining himself to any one person, but taking 
 a general interest in things, congratulated Brade, with 
 dignity, upon this privilege, as well as upon his acting; 
 of which the boy, like an intelligent and ingenuous fel- 
 low, as before, said that " being dressed up and keeping 
 still wasn't any thing." He looked pleased, of course, at 
 having succeeded. 
 
 " It's a great part of king-craft, though ; " said Mr. 
 Manson, going into high thought. 
 
 J O O O O 
 
 " The effect of blood, I suppose ; " said Mr. Parmen- 
 ter, partly but not wholly aside, and with a bow.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 WHAT THE COUNT IS TO BEADE. 
 
 A LITTLE ceremony was to be used in going to the 
 dining-room. It was understood that the late Czare- 
 vitch should lead in the late Princess Alexandrovna ; 
 the Cossack Count, of course, conducting the lady of the 
 house. 
 
 Mr. Don, before this took place, was apprised of a 
 discovery which Mrs. Wadham had made, nearly affect- 
 ing his document : " I suppose you know that strange 
 language everybody was puzzled about was all made 
 up. Oh, yes ! entirely, altogether. A pretty good 
 language to be made up for fun ? " 
 
 " You surprise me, ma'am ! " Mr. Don said, a good 
 deal astonished. " Well, I think with you it was wor- 
 thy of a better fate." 
 
 He at once explained the state of things to the Rev. 
 Mr. Merritt. 
 
 " Then my Anglo-Saxon goes to the bottom ; " Mr. 
 Merritt said good-naturedly, as if a great part of the 
 world was still standing. 
 
 The Count seemed not quite to understand the duty 
 expected of him. 
 
 Mr. Greenwood was for the moment not to be found. 
 Thereupon, the lady, in a very purpose-like way, walked 
 up to the eminent foreigner, and showed, in the same
 
 WHAT THE COUNT IS TO SHADE. 377 
 
 way in which Robinson Crusoe expressed himself to 
 the savages, that she would take his arm, and they 
 would go yonder, and, as she explained by forcible 
 action of the jaws, would there put their mouths to the 
 best use that most mouths are capable of. The Count, 
 with his facility at language, caught the meaning 
 readily; and having gone through with the same 
 symbolic representation in his turn, and occasioned 
 another breach of good manners on the part of the 
 impulsive young people and others, he made a pro- 
 found bow and gave the hostess his arm. 
 
 It was a disappointment to the company that Brade 
 and Kate Ryan had abandoned their splendid dresses 
 (for the boy had been as much in a hurry to get back 
 to his own, as the girl had shown herself) ; but it was 
 still generally agreed that they were an uncommonly 
 good-looking couple, and well matched. 
 
 They were not at all upon the easy and familiar 
 footing with each other that we once saw, but rather 
 on that which Kate made a condition of their corre- 
 spondence in " The Language." He addressed her as 
 " Miss Ryan ;" and she (we believe) called him "Mr. 
 Brade." They talked together with plenty of reserve 
 and courteous distance. 
 
 The mysterious link of relationship between the 
 Count and Brade had not been broken when the un- 
 known tongue was stripped of all mystery ; and it was 
 arranged that they should come next each other, in the 
 dining-room. The clerical party were not far off; and 
 Dr. Far well, very happily, as usual, hit the feeling of 
 the guests by saying, in his pleasant way, 
 
 "Now here's a place where action is better than 
 speech."
 
 378 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 The Count's formal salutation of his young kinsman 
 (if Bracle was his kinsman), and the look with which it 
 was accompanied, had a strangely exhilarating effect 
 upon the boy and those near, although Brade, as we 
 know, was no giggling fellow, to be carried off his 
 gravity by every trifle. 
 
 Mr. Merritt saw the state of the case, and consider- 
 ately came in : 
 
 "The foreign Count will be too much for that young- 
 ster," he said : " some of us older people better take 
 him." 
 
 Meantime the foreigner, unwilling to remain a stran- 
 ger, and wishing to tighten the cords of human brother- 
 hood, had adopted the readiest way he knew to that 
 end ; and forgetting even, for an instant, the immediate 
 claims of the lady of the house, whom he had had the 
 honor to bring in, presented Brade ceremoniously 
 with a card. But this was only for a moment : then 
 lie turned diligently to the discharge of his duties, 
 and showed himself more practised in the arts of civili- 
 zation and usages of the table than many of his titled 
 brethren have appeared in this country. 
 
 It has been already said that the Rev. Mr. Merritt 
 professed to have kept by him a good deal of his school- 
 boy associations ; in like manner he had not forgotten 
 his school-boy manners. He now beckoned for a sight 
 of this paper, much as any of Brade's comrades might 
 have done. Brade, smiling, handed him the card; and 
 Mr. Merritt, turning his back and drawing some of his 
 neighbors to do the same, evidently enjoyed himself 
 heartily. The Count, getting no answer, devoted him- 
 self the more strenuously to the comfort and refresh- 
 ment of the hostess.
 
 WHAT THE COUNT IS TO BRADE. 379 
 
 " This is about as good as my unknown tongue 
 Anglo-Saxon and all," Mr. Merritt said. 
 
 " ' Kollidg tis kontra gif digri tu mi on languidg ? ' ' 
 
 "'Give degree,' sir, is what he means evidently;" 
 said Mr. Don, good-naturedly giving his help. 
 
 " That's plain enough," said Mr. Merritt ; " but what 
 does the rest of it mean ? Will a college in this coun- 
 try give a degree in his language, or to a man of his 
 language ? I should say he ought to be encouraged, 
 somehow, to go on. I thought," he said, showing the 
 card to Mr. Greenwood, who happened to pass, " you 
 told us he didn't know a word of English." 
 
 " I said ' there wasn't an English word in him : ' well, 
 I don't see any thing there against it." 
 
 Dr. Farwell's wisdom was close at hand, and came to 
 the rescue : 
 
 "But these," said he, "are the phonetic signs: he 
 sings by the phonetic signs ; he spells by the phonetic 
 signs. .' K-o-l-l-i-d-g ' isn't according to our spelling- 
 books; but isn't it according to another principle, per- 
 haps a better principle ? The American child says ' B'e'd,' 
 when he's hungry ; and ' Bed,' when he's sleepy. Now 
 may not that sound I put the question as a question 
 in science may not that sound represent to that 
 child be associated in that child's mind with the 
 general idea of comfort? comfort?" 
 
 While this thoughtful speculation was going on, 
 emphasized, at emphatic points, with the peacefully- 
 shut fist, across the chest, the great order of things had 
 also been going on. Ices, salads, jellies, oysters, con- 
 fectioneries, in many a tempting form, were carried 
 about; and trustees and clergymen could not keep 
 their backs set against them. It happened ill for
 
 380 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 science that this strong diversion came just ap the 
 Reverend Doctor had been called upon by Mr. Pettie 
 or some one, to explain "how the Cossack Count 
 could spell ' college,' or ' give,' or any of his other 
 words, in 'phonetic signs,' if he hadn't first got the 
 words that he wanted to spell." The answer was lost 
 in the general occupation that followed. 
 
 The Count by no means confined himself in his 
 attentions to his young relative, nor to the lady of the 
 house ; but in active dumb show, with a noble flourish 
 of manner, he helped half the young ladies near him, 
 before their attendant gentlemen knew where they 
 were, to the amused fright of the young ladies 
 themselves. 
 
 Mr. Merritt's wit was alive, and found vent, confi- 
 dentially, but in a pretty loud confidence, to his friend 
 the Doctor (and a few others) : 
 
 " Though the Count don't understand English, I 
 think, looking at his performances, we should hold him 
 a-count-able, shouldn't we?" 
 
 "I was expecting to make two or three very good 
 jokes out of that word," said Dr. Farwell ; " and now 
 here's Merritt spoiled one of 'em, right off." 
 
 The Count, who, of course, heard but a confused 
 jargon of speech all about him, unless when, like a 
 warble from his native Avoods, or a strain from his own 
 ancesti'al halls, or, in short, like just what it was, a word 
 or two came to him from Mr. Greenwood, did not des- 
 pair of communicating, in his own way, with the intelli- 
 gent life around him. Again he presented a card to 
 Brade, and accompanied it with a look of inquiry, and 
 an inquiring attitude of the different members of the 
 body, eminently foreign. The card this time bore upon 
 its face the words :
 
 WHAT THE COUNT IS TO BEADE. 381 
 
 " Konow Russik ? " 
 
 The Trustees happened at the moment to be en- 
 gaged in discussing the arrangement for " Benefactors' 
 Day," the " Triumphal Arch," or the " Arch of Wel- 
 come," or whatever it should be called; the Latin 
 speech, to be in two parts, for Gaston and Brade, but 
 very short, so as to be fitted for out-door delivery, if 
 the weather should not be too cold or stormy. Dr. 
 Farwell was just settling things in their places, as they 
 ought to be settled, "that seems conclusive as to 
 that thing, at that point" when Mi'. Merritt nudged 
 his elbow, and it was astonishing, considering the speed 
 and force with which he moved, how soon he checked 
 himself to see what Mr. Merritt wished him to see. 
 
 Brade, not thinking himself seen, was answering 
 Count Blakisoff's card as well as he could ; showing, 
 in his eyes, a feeling of the drollness of his own appear- 
 ance, and that of the Count, who was gesticulating in 
 sympathy, and with that gravity which belongs to well- 
 bred foreigners. Catching sight of the clerical party, 
 Brade politely presented them with the card, and, leav- 
 ing them busy, took the opportunity to make his 
 modest leave-taking and get away. A more conspic- 
 uous part was played by the Count, who hastily fol- 
 lowed him, after a very low bow to the hostess, and 
 another to the company ; Mr. Greenwood explaining 
 that "he was drawn by strong ties." 
 
 The air was sharp and biting, as Brade, followed 
 closely by the noble foreigner, left behind the house 
 full of pleasant warmth, and sounds of mirth. 
 
 "Brade!" said the Count, in a strange accent; and, 
 as Antony turned, he could see that some change had 
 taken place in the stranger.
 
 382 ANTONY BEADS. 
 
 " Ha ! " said the Count, in the cold air, but speaking 
 as good English as Russian, and putting his hand to 
 his face. 
 
 Antony waited to join him ; and, as the Count with- 
 drew his hand, a great part of the hair of his face came 
 with it. 
 
 "'Kollidg gif digri tu mi on languidge,'" said the 
 Count, making out pretty well to repeat the words on 
 his first card. 
 
 Brade laughed. " Ulterior College might do it, I sup- 
 pose," he said. 
 
 " Didn't you find me out before ? " nsked Blake, 
 for Blake it was, rid of his hair, but still wearing his 
 frogged coat. "Really? The trouble about getting 
 an ' honorary ' from Ulterior," said he, running on, in 
 his old way, " is, if you haven't been there four years, 
 you've got to prove you wa'n't bright enough to get 
 through College ; or you want to preach or teach, and 
 people think you don't know enough." 
 
 Some boys, who were out with their sleds, espied 
 the two, and, after gazing at them, broke forth in shouts : 
 " Hooraw for Count Blakisoff ! " Hooray ! " Hoo- 
 raw for Imperial Highness ! " and escorted them home 
 in triumph.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 BENEFACTORS' DAY. 
 
 MR. PARMENTER'S " evening," after Mrs. Wadhara, 
 was handsome and costly. Except the boys, he had 
 most of her guests, and some others. The weather had 
 grown still colder ; but there was to be a full moon ; 
 and, as snow already covered the ground, the night 
 would be a fine one, and everybody was in good spirits. 
 Mrs. Osborn was not there, and there were those who 
 said that " that giving of the mitten was a genuine 
 thing;" others "didn't believe it: it was only fun 
 before people." But she was not there. 
 
 Mrs. Wadham was at Mr. Parmenter's, and gave a 
 good deal of tone to things, in whatever part of the 
 house she was. The rumor of Blake's transformation, 
 and changing-back, had found its way up; and the city- 
 gentlemen, having got an inkling of the supposed rela- 
 tionship to Brade, laughed heartily, and said a good 
 many funny things about " the other boy's Cossack 
 uncle," and called him " a first-rate actor." 
 
 Mrs. Wadham, when the intelligence first reached 
 her, treated it as a deliberative body treats a report from 
 a committee, and " accepted " it, as it were, for her 
 own consideration, by saying " Yes." She changed 
 color a little, to be sure ; and then was silent over it, 
 until jhe had disposed of it within herself, and, as it
 
 384 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 were, " adopted " it. This all took place at Mr. Par- 
 menter's; and Mr. Greenwood had been so occupied 
 with different gentlemen as not to have been able to 
 exchange any conversation with her, further than a 
 hurried exclamation, in passing : " How that chap did 
 impose upon us ! " 
 
 Mrs. Wadham made her answer, in the hearing of 
 those who were near : " I'm sure I gave 'em chance 
 enough to find him out. I introduced Dr. Farwell to 
 him ; and I introduced Mr. Parmenter, and Mr. Merritt, 
 and Mr. Don. They had chance enough." 
 
 The buzzing of animated conversation ; the admiring 
 exclamations ; the compliments paid to the host ; the 
 moral reflections and sagacious observations made 
 about him and his fortunes; the arrangement of 
 lights, so as to " bring out " the pictures ; the glances 
 of eyes and of speech, all this would make a very 
 good subject for the pen ; but we pass it, and even the 
 talk about Benefactors' Day, and the boys' coming match 
 on the ice, as not necessary to our story. One happen- 
 ing we describe, as connected with Brade and with 
 what is coming. 
 
 It had become known throughout the company that 
 Mr. Parmenter was looking for a very distinguished 
 guest ; the wiser ones said, " for an eminent musician." 
 An hour or two late, there was a stir outside, and a 
 busy-looking movement on the part of the host, and 
 little eagernesses among the guests; and a man with a 
 military cloak thrown over his cap, and high boots, 
 with fur tops, meeting the cloak, was brought through 
 the rooms, with much ceremony on Mr. Parmenter's 
 part and very little on his own, and taken into a room 
 beyond, where, as some of the gentlemen remarked,
 
 BENEFACTORS 1 DAY. 385 
 
 " that foreign fellow was getting some grub, after his 
 sleigh-ride." " He ain't another Cossack Count, is 
 he ? " 
 
 After a while he came out, having his cloak now 
 hanging from his shoulders (his boots still on), and 
 was wiping his chops and beard with his fingers. Mr. 
 Parmenter made it to be understood that this was 
 " The MAESTRO ! " (with much accent : it was repeated 
 as " the Maelstrom ! " by one of the ready wits) 
 "VOLKOV, the great composer!" In that character, 
 he was looked at and commented upon, as he stood 
 with his back to the piano, uttering occasional very 
 "basso" words and laughs. "Queer-looking 'com- 
 pany '-rig," some said. "Becoming, though," others 
 thought. " Genius does so," was a third opinion. A 
 crashing sound, from the heavy cords of the piano 
 behind him, brought a sudden stillness, during which 
 Mr. Volkov, without heeding either sound or stillness, 
 kept on, at intervals, uttering his deep-toned speech 
 and laughter. A tinkling, as of fairy sheep-bells, but 
 rhythmical and melodious, came from the piano (so Mr. 
 Manson enthusiastically described it) : all ears were 
 strained to catch it. A sound, as of a fairy people 
 dancing to the pipe and tabor, followed ; then a march ; 
 then a dirge ; and while all ears, except of the artist, 
 were strained to hear, he stood with his back to the 
 piano, asking questions about the snow in different 
 winters, how deep, how early, how late. 
 
 " Why don't Parmenter show him his fiddle?" some 
 asked ; and in a moment were answered. There was a 
 sudden blaze of light thrown on the Stradivarius. The 
 host had been standing near the artist, and listening, 
 with bowed head He now ceremoniously spoke : 
 17 Y
 
 386 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " I'm very sorry to interrupt you, sir, and to deprive 
 us of the treat we're enjoying; but many of my friends 
 are a little impatient to have you see a very precious 
 relic in my possession, a genuine Stradivarius ! " 
 
 " Stradivarius ! " said the Maestro, leaving the piano, 
 and following. (Of course the golden thread of music 
 broke, when he walked away.) 
 
 The Stradivarius of Mr. T. Parmenter, as Mr. T. 
 " Parmenter's fiddle," was as well known, almost, as 
 the regalia in Edinburgh Castle, or elsewhere, and the 
 company flocked over to its stand. 
 
 Here, having allowed a little time for things to settle, 
 Mr. Parmenter drew from his pocket a package of worn 
 and yellow papers ; and, holding them in his hand, 
 smiling, made a little speech : 
 
 " You know, better than I can tell you, sir, that the 
 violin of Cremona is very famous and very rare. I 
 think there were three houses most eminent for making 
 them. They are so scarce as to command a fabulous 
 price. I suppose I ought to be ashamed," lie added, 
 bashfully, " to confess what I paid for this ; but the 
 evidence " 
 
 The great artist looked glum at the sight of the 
 papers, as if he feared the having to read them all 
 through, and proceeded to his own line of evidence. 
 Taking the " Cremona " from its cushion, he tightened 
 up the old strings, whose .fibre had been toughened by 
 the goat's milk and mutton of Padan fields, and first 
 attuned to music in the open night-air of Cathedral- 
 leads or hiimbler roofs, or in the little-frequented and 
 much-resounding halls of the University. The Maestro 
 ran his fingers up and down and across the tightened 
 strings, faster than common ears could follow ; then
 
 BENEFACTORS' DAY. 387 
 
 rapped hard on the buck of the instrument with his 
 knuckles; then squeezed with his two thumbs the 
 front, as if he would break it in, like the breast of a 
 chicken ; then, with a nail of one of his many-ringed 
 fingers, scraped at the dark crust ; and then loosened 
 the strings, and laid down the Stradivarius, saying that 
 "he was yoost so goot als how he ever was. He never 
 was goot for nodsing, 't all. They had sheeted the goot 
 friend, Parmenter." 
 
 At this candid announcement, the sudden expressions 
 in the many faces gathered about were worth a painter's 
 study. Many glances were interchanged ; some mouths 
 were pursed up, and eyelids rounded ; some tongues 
 were thrust into cheeks ; a back was significantly 
 scratched ; shoulders were shrugged to the ears. One 
 face, staring with all its eyes, hearing with all its ears, 
 was particularly amusing: it was that of Mrs. Wad- 
 ham's man, Eldridge, who, somehow, happened to be 
 among the foremost by-standers. The lady herself had 
 not observed him. She had received the artist's words 
 with silent, open mouth, and had closed upon it with a 
 deep " Um ! " 
 
 Mr. Parmenter took the event gallantly : 
 " I suppose, sir," he said, smiling, though very red, 
 " you would hardly care to read these vouchers," and 
 he put them back in his pocket. " We must accept the 
 verdict unless" (looking round at his guests) "we 
 can get it amended." Then, spying Eldridge, now 
 engaged in searching tlie faces of the on-lookers, he 
 said: "You were looking for Mrs. Wadham, I sup- 
 pose;" and having recalled that intelligent observer 
 to himself and his business, he said, pointing to the 
 Cremona, " This needs a taste for antiquity to appreciate
 
 388 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 it. Perhaps, sir, you'll favor us with a little music from 
 an instrument of to-day, which, you have shown us, can 
 * discourse ' very sweet sounds." 
 
 So, with this pretty speech, Mr. Parmenter turned 
 off his disappointment. Mr. Don said, " I think he 
 didn't make allowance for the age of the fiddle, sir. I 
 think you told me it was three hundred years old." 
 Mrs. Wadham asked, "You've kept your vouchers, I 
 suppose ? " much as she might ask if his securities had 
 escaped a fire. 
 
 Mr. Parmenter devoted himself to his guests. The 
 Maestro, after bestowing an hour or more on this social 
 gathering, out of his way, was whirled off again to a 
 railroad station, and in due time the guests were scat- 
 tered. 
 
 The public, in its informal assemblings at the store 
 and the post-office, did its duty by all parties, the 
 host, the great musician, and the fiddle. We have seen 
 that one of its channels of information lay through 
 Eldridge ; and Eldridge had had special advantages. 
 Several intelligent persons had also questioned Mr. 
 Parmenter, before twenty-four hours had gone by, 
 whether " it was true that that musical man had 
 knocked the old fiddle all to smash ? " and whether 
 " that foreigner hadn't ben ruther aggravatin' ? " and 
 Mr. Parmenter had taken every thing very quietly, say- 
 ing that " the fiddle was safe in its place, where he 
 should be glad to have any of his neighbors come and 
 see it ; " and that " VOLKOV was considered the greatest 
 living authority in music." 
 
 Now, the public, taking the whole thing in hand, 
 sifting and weighing, came to the conclusion that " Par- 
 menter was awful cut up, when the Dutchman spoke
 
 BENEFACTORS^ DAY. 389 
 
 up, as pert as could be, and said ' his fiddle wa'n't wuth 
 a snap, then, nor wouldn't be, if he kep' it a thousand 
 year.' " 
 
 All now was looking forward to the new " Benefac- 
 tors' Day," and working for it : the great doings of the 
 forenoon and the great match on the ice. " An arch was 
 to be made by Mr. Chambers, the carpenter, and dec- 
 orated by the boys, and then set up on one of the 
 school-roads or paths, and somewhere where it Avould 
 be sheltered, because it would have to be all covered 
 up till it was unveiled, and, if the winds should get at 
 it, they'd make short work of it." So ran the talk 
 of the School ; and accordingly Mr. Chambers built it 
 on the large barn-floor, and Lawrence and Lamson and 
 Mason were busy for all the spare time of three days, 
 in illuminating the front with the words "Hail, Bene- 
 factors ! " in beautiful Church-text. 
 
 A steady, soaking rain set in during this time, threat- 
 ening a thaw ; but it cleared off, and cold came steadily 
 on again. 
 
 The arch, as decorated, and covered three or four feet 
 down by canvas which was to be drawn away at " The 
 Unveiling," was set where no wind could reach it, and 
 neatly held up at the back by shores let into the ice- 
 covered ground. The monitors undertook the charge 
 of it, in high hope ; for all was ready, and the even- 
 ing promised a fair morrow. It was dark when the 
 last cluster of boys broke up ; and Brade, in a sudden 
 freak of liveliness and nimbleness, as soon as the rest 
 were gone, set out to climb the arch, and climbed it 
 safely, in spite of Peters's earnest remonstrances, urging 
 what a risk and how needless a risk he was taking, 
 " with that canvas on it," and that he himself " could 
 not bear to see it."
 
 390 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 As Brade sat astride at the top, and waved his hat in 
 the faint light of the rising moon, with one hurrah, Mr. 
 Purmenter, unseen, wished him " Good evening ! " and 
 complimented him as " an aspiring genius;" advising, 
 however, his speedy coming down, for his own sake 
 and that of the arch. So Brade made his harmless 
 boy-brag that he was not afraid, and came down ; 
 receiving the benefactor's very courteous expression of 
 "hope to see him to-morrow in an honorable position." 
 Then, with Peters, who " was glad to see him on dry 
 land again," at which blunder both laughed, he went 
 into the house. 
 
 The next dawn rose over the earth as if all things 
 above and around were ready to make a fine winter's 
 day for the new holiday. 
 
 The younger boys were astir early, their blood all 
 bustling ; and the elders were full also of the great 
 match and the doings at the arch beforehand, and 
 talked them over. Gaston and Brade, as we know, 
 were to come out in Latin ; and each had contrived a 
 little joke to give point to his short speech. One was 
 going to wish that "it might hail benefactors," and the 
 other that " the benefactors might be hale and hearty." 
 This latter, being hard to make telling in Latin, was to 
 be clapped till hands were sore. Some of the Trustees 
 were to speak, not too many, the boys hoped. 
 
 At ten of the clock in the forenoon, Rector Warren 
 was at the arch, with his boys : Gaston and Brade wear- 
 ing badges of red and blue ribbon. At ten of the 
 clock, a handsome open sleigh, bearing Mr. Parmenter, 
 handsomely furred, and Dr. Farwell in a skull-cap and 
 muffled thoroughly, and Mr. Merritt, and Mr. Don, 
 drew up. Sleighs full of neighbors, and a small crowd 
 of neighbors on foot, had gathered, and were gathering.
 
 BENEFACTORS^ DAY. 391 
 
 Mr. Parmenter sat combining a look of dignified in- 
 difference with a look of modest consciousness. 
 
 Dr. Farwell rose, and, on a hint from Mr. Merritt, 
 stood upon the seat. 
 
 " I am called upon," he said, his eyes twinkling from 
 beside his nose, and from among his mufiiings, " to 
 make a speech. It seems to be thought that I know 
 how to do that thing which is called a speech? (His 
 hands being in his coat-pockets, the gestures were 
 chiefly made with the shoulders, and by a flapping of 
 the arms against the sides ; and in this way, consid- 
 ering his greatness of manner, he was stately and 
 emphatic.) " Have any of the boys who hear me thought 
 what an occasion is ? An ' occasion ' is a time. If I 
 act at the proper time, I act on the proper occasion. 
 Now an occasion may be a great occasion ; and men 
 are said to rise " (here the gesture was easy, a going 
 up upon the toes, and down again) "to the great- 
 ness of the occasion. This is a great occasion ! 
 Perhaps benefactors need institutions : institutions also 
 need benefactors. This occasion brings the two to- 
 gether: the institution welcomes its benefactors with 
 a simple and significant display" (Mr. Parmenter was 
 moved, and lifted his hat). "The taste and judgment 
 of teachers, the zeal and skill of pupils." Here, 
 bowvig his head, he gave the signal for withdrawing 
 the canvas. Russell and Lamson ran it off; and the 
 arch, with its illuminated inscription, was left bare. 
 The orator started : everybody was astonished : there 
 was the illumination ; but there was, moreover, dang- 
 ling below by a bit of tarred cord, the wreck of a junk 
 bottle, to which was fastened a great sprawling inscrip- 
 tion, "MKLI.O THICK;" and, furthermore, there was a
 
 392 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 strange-looking black fiddle, with " STKADLE VARIOUS " 
 upon it, hanging by another bit of tarred string. 
 
 The orator paused ; but the intelligent neighbors 
 began to question : " What d'ye s'pose that's for ? " " 'S 
 he goin' to read his dokyments 'n public ? " " You'd 
 better get a little nearer, Eldridge," said a resolute 
 female voice in one of the aleighs. 
 
 The reader knows that boys are boys, but will 
 believe that the St. Bart's boys kept pretty steady. 
 
 Meantime, the combined expression of Mr. Parrnen- 
 ter's face had become simplified and more intense. He 
 was standing, now, in his sleigh, handsomely furred, 
 as he was, and spoke with a hastiness unwonted in 
 him : 
 
 "Any thing like good discipline in the School," he 
 said, " would have prevented " 
 
 The orator spoke again : 
 
 "It is hardly to be supposed that boys of Saint Bar- 
 tholomew's School" 
 
 Mr. Don also opened his mouth : 
 
 " I can hardly conceive " 
 
 " I saw one young gentleman on top of the arch 
 after it was set up last night," said Mr. Parmenter, 
 still not using his self-control. 
 
 " Of course you don't think ./did that," said Brade, as 
 hastily. 
 
 Petei's stood forth like a born champion : 
 
 " Brade only climbed up for fun," he said : " I was 
 there." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter was either too angry or too much 
 occupied to answer ; and Brade walked straight over 
 to Rector Warren, who was just coming forward, and 
 said, " I hope you'll excuse me, sir : I can't speak this ! "
 
 BENEFACTORS^ DAT. 393 
 
 Rector Warren, also, seemed too much occupied to 
 give him much heed, and came forward in a hasty 
 mood, like the rest, and said : 
 
 " This is some mischievous prank. Of course no boy 
 in School" 
 
 The orator, who had kept his stand on the seat, here 
 began again : 
 
 " I can hardly suppose that any one of those " (from 
 the rhyme he seemed unconsciously to take strength) 
 " imbued with the spirit of St. Bartholomew's School 
 would insult this solemnity I speak advisedly 
 this solemnity " 
 
 " If he did, he ought to smoke for it ! that's all I've 
 got to say," said Mr. Merritt. 
 
 By this time Russell, with help from Blake and 
 others, had rid the arch of its incongruous hangings. 
 The fiddle (a very rough thing) was handed about 
 among the boys with some laughter, Will Hirsett, 
 with a grin, trying to play upon it like a banjo. Mr. 
 Parmenter had recovered himself. 
 
 " We've had our little interruption," he said, smiling. 
 " One of the poets assures us that ' the wisest plans of 
 mice and men often go wrong.' Our young orators 
 won't be in the mood for speaking. I've just got from 
 town a quantity of West India fruit. With the consent 
 of the Trustees and the Rector of the School, I will 
 ask the Rector's acceptance of it, for the boys, and 
 propose to adjourn till the great match on the ice, 
 with three cheers for St. Bartholomew's School." 
 
 " I'd sooner break up the fiddle than break up the 
 meeting," said Mrs. Waclham. 
 
 Mr. Parmenter's proposition was at once adopted by 
 everybody, and, after three huzzas, in which the bottle- 
 17*
 
 394 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 neck and the fiddle bore a conspicuous part, the gather- 
 ing broke up. 
 
 " How strangely we are made ! " said Dr. Farwell 
 comfortably, having sunk down in "a corner of the 
 sleigh and drawn up the robes. " Sometimes it seems 
 as if we had the wrong parts : my heart was meant for 
 a soldier, a Cffisar or a Bonaparte. If there'd been a 
 concealed rebellion under that bottle and that violin, I 
 felt when I was speaking as if I wanted to face it, to 
 put it down ! " His hands being still in his coat-pockets, 
 he emphasized by setting his lips firmly together, and 
 flapping his elbows against his sides. 
 
 " It won't do to let that stop here," said Mr. Merritt*
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE MATCH ON THE ICE. 
 
 THE Great Middle Class," the self-confident Third 
 Form, had got the Fourth to join them, and had chal- 
 lenged the rest of the School, at hockey, on Lake Thrash ; 
 and the school was eager to " stop the bragging of those 
 everlasting Thirds." Stores of hockey-sticks had been 
 laid in ; Blake making much fun with his queer-looking 
 set, and Towne much show of his, while Gaston bragged 
 of one favorite that it was " tough as the oak on Alpine 
 heights, that wrestles with the winds, this way and that, 
 at ipsa hceret scopulis." 
 
 The boys had not been to the lake since the begin- 
 ning of the rain ; but there had been a day or two of 
 steady freezing. 
 
 The day, as we have seen, was splendid ; and noth- 
 ing that had happened, or "might, could, would, or 
 should" happen, was to hinder or hamper the sport of 
 that afternoon. All day the flags were flying on the 
 boat-houses at the lake. All day the whole landscape 
 beautiful as it was, with ups and downs, and sweep- 
 ing, wooded dales was sending back to the sun, from 
 its smooth, icy crust, a dazzling splendor. No wind 
 was blowing, and the steady cold seemed breaking 
 again. 
 
 The match was to come off at two o'clock, precisely.
 
 396 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 Russell was to call the game at that hour ; and, after 
 that, "whoever was not on the spot, it was his own 
 loss." Dinner was hurried, as we may suppose, and but 
 half eaten, and then, in troops, the boys went down, 
 the smallest ones, of course, leading the rest. All were 
 merry as kids and kittens. 
 
 One company, in which are Will Hirsett, Wilkins, 
 Dover, Ransom, and Wadham, Second, are rehearsing 
 the more eminent attractions. 
 
 " Ned Prouty is to be there with his French horn ; " 
 and " there's to be the biggest bonfire that was ever 
 seen, Mr. Stout has carried down ever so much cord- 
 wood ; " and " there's to be coffee, and chocolate, and 
 lemonade, just as people like." "Do you hear that? 
 There's Prouty! There ain't a man in the United 
 States can beat him ! " 
 
 Our readers, to have the scene well before them, must 
 remember that one of the chief beauties of this lake 
 abounding in beauties (may ruthless and tasteless road- 
 makers never spoil it ! ) is St. Bart's Bay. To make this, 
 the western shore, at less than half a mile's distance 
 from the northern, trends away, rounding Crystal Point ; 
 and then the bay, or cove, sets in for three-quarters of 
 a mile to the westward. The southern or further shore 
 of this bay is winding and wooded, with granite cliffs 
 half-way toward the west, and then a beach. The north- 
 ern shore winds less. On this, and about as far from 
 the west as Crystal Point, stand the boys' boat-houses. 
 
 The scene now lies before us. Yonder up the bay, and 
 over, near the southern shore, are people gathering. On 
 the road, along the western end, can be descried horses 
 and sleigh-loads of people; and there are janglings and 
 jtinklings of sleigh=bejls qn the way. From the lake
 
 THE MATCH ON THE ICE. 397 
 
 a blue smoke is beginning to curl upward in the still 
 air ; and there are boys, we may be sure, busy as ants, 
 feeding and fanning the flames. 
 
 A line of flags, on short staves, stretches across from 
 inside of Boat-house-pier to the shore inside of Crystal 
 Point. 
 
 From the far gathering comes, now and then, a sin- 
 gle living note or two of Prouty's French horn, as if 
 thrown out to stir and waken, as they do, the merri- 
 ment and happiness of every thing about. 
 
 " What flag is that ? " asked Russell, as soon as the 
 turn on the lake-path brought the boat-houses into 
 sight. " There's the Caput, already ! " 
 
 " Why, that's the old Admiral's bunting ! " said Blake. 
 " Don't you see the S. B. and the dagger ? " 
 
 " No, no," said Russell. " I don't mean that : what's 
 that one over the ' eight-oar ' ? I never saw it before. 
 It wasn't there this morning." 
 
 "That's Peters's," said Meadows, who was within 
 hearing. "His mother made it for the Rosicrucian 
 Nine ; and they're going to wear their red-cross shirts 
 to-day. It's all silk." 
 
 Russell spoke again : 
 
 "Now, see here, fellows ! just at this turn, where 
 nobody can help seeing, we've got a sign up, 'WARN- 
 ING ! LOOK OUT AND DON'T GO EAST OF THE FLAGS, FOR 
 YOUR LIFE ! ' Mr. Folsom made us ten of 'em, and 
 we've got some on the flag-staffs, and some all round. 
 There's been notice given twice in school, and we've 
 got to do it again down here. Has Brade come down 
 yet ? He's got the ball." 
 
 "Maybe he feels badly about this morning, and won't 
 come," said Hutchins.
 
 398 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 " Poh ! That isn't the stuff he's made of, let me tell 
 you," answered Blake. /'Mr. Parmenter don't get over 
 it so easy, I bet you ! Wa'n't the Caput wrath y ? " 
 
 " Brade was mad : who wouldn't be ? " said Russell. 
 " But when he found everybody knew he was right, he 
 didn't care. Now, fellows, the sun lies too much on our 
 side of the bay ; we've got to work over toward the other 
 shore, so we've had the floats* from the boat-houses, 
 and any thing else we could get, carried over that way 
 for seats and standing. Look at the spectators ! All 
 Eastham '11 be down, you see if they don't. Call all 
 the fellows up here, will you? Where's Prouty?" 
 
 Straightway began all manner of calls and cries, for 
 Prouty was over near the other side ; but the boys 
 gathered as dutifully as bees to kindred music. 
 
 " There's a squad of fellows coasting down that bank ! 
 call 'em, Walters, will you ? " said Russell, whose eye 
 was, as it ought to be, over the whole field of sight. 
 " The Caput's there, and Mr. Bruce and Mr. Hamersley ; 
 and there's Mr. Manson ; and there are the Wadhams, 
 and Mr. Parmenter, and Dr. Farwell, and lots of 'em. 
 Now, fellows, look here ! " he said, as the boys on this 
 side of the lake gathered, " there isn't any safety out- 
 side of the line from here to Crystal Point, because 
 they've been cutting ice. The place is all up in our 
 bay ; arid then we've got to go away over to the other 
 side to get out of the sun. (Wilkins ! don't make such 
 a noise, please, we're laying down the rules again, and 
 the lives of some fellows may depend upon it. Every- 
 body's got to listen.) Now, we've got four base-ball 
 
 * So the landing-bridges were called at St. Bart's ; rafts hinged- 
 up to the boat-houses, and with the lower ends floating freely on 
 timbers.
 
 THE MATCH ON THE ICE. 399 
 
 flags sot right across, clear of all danger. (You see 
 where Lamson's looking at 'em.) Nobody's to go out- 
 side of that line to the eastward ; inside there's no dan- 
 ger. If you see anybody undertaking to pass that line, 
 knock him down! Now we've got seven minutes to 
 get over there and begin." 
 
 A shout followed Russell's laying down of the law, 
 showing the School's acquiescence in the requirements 
 of recognized authority. The sound of Ned Prouty's 
 horn came, smooth, and clear, and inspiring, across the 
 ice. A Scots tune, " Come through the heather ! 
 Around him gather ! Ye're a' the welcomer early," and 
 so on, Frouty was playing; and away the boys went, large 
 and small, Russell, and Blake, and Walters, no less than 
 Hirsett, and Wilkins, and Meadows, and lesser ones, to 
 the edge of the ice, and put on their skates, and were 
 oifto see which would come first to the ground. Prouty 
 was beginning Yankee Doodle. 
 
 " There's Brade, now ! " cried some of the hindmost, 
 who began beckoning with hands, and arms, and hats, 
 and caps, to hurry the loiterers, two or three boys 
 who were now doing their best to make up for lost 
 time. 
 
 Yankee Doodle, well played, is enough, almost, to 
 se 4 : the very trees off their standing. The boys from 
 the edge of the lake were all scampering over the ice 
 toward the further side, after giving their last shout to 
 Brade and his friends to hurry ; and, hurry-scurry down 
 the hill, come the three laggards. 
 
 They near the bend in the boat-house path, by which 
 the warning-board is set, in full sight ; and Peters cries 
 out, in triumph, 
 
 " There she is ! Look at her ! Isn't the red cross a 
 beauty ! "
 
 400 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 They all look over at the flags. 
 
 Peters was strongly inclined to linger and admire ; 
 but there was no time. Panting, they all agreed, aa 
 they ran, that the .red cross was the handsomest flag in 
 the School. 
 
 " There's the Caput, and everybody ! " cried Brade, 
 panting. " Down with us ! " 
 
 Ned Prouty's music came as fresh and clear across 
 the lake as if on its way it had gathered sparkle and 
 tinkle from the frozen water; and it seemed to be 
 joined by accordant notes from hill and dale. 
 
 The three late-comers are at the bank. An inartic- 
 ulate noise of voices from the further side comes to their 
 ears, and they can understand it, without distinguish- 
 ing a word, to be a call, from fifty tongues, to hurry. 
 One or two boys set ofl" from the crowd to meet them. 
 
 " If it hadn't been for this ball ! " said Brade ; and he 
 held up to be seen, if it might, at the other side, the 
 ball which he had in charge. 
 
 " Plaguy thing ! " said Peters. " Long enough we 
 looked for it!" 
 
 " Play's called ! They're at it now ! Those fellows 
 are going back ! " cried Remsen ; and, in an instant, the 
 three were on the lake. 
 
 The French horn had ceased to play. 
 
 " There it goes ! " said Brade, who tripped at the 
 edge of the ice, and lost the ball from his hand. The 
 ball skimmed over the smooth surface, and the loser 
 started after it. Remsen, as he put on his skates, called 
 out, 
 
 " Look out for thin ice ! " 
 
 Peters started up. " Whereas the line?" he cried, 
 frightened, and set off, without his skates, as Brade was,
 
 THE MATCH ON THE ICE. 401 
 
 to follow. Already Brade had come so near the ball 
 as to have touched it with his hockey-stick, but, failing 
 to catch it, he had, of course, given it a new start. 
 
 Now, from the other side, came one far shout, whose 
 words were indistinguishable. Then arose an inartic- 
 ulate din, and a rush. Peters called to Brade to stop, 
 but followed on himself as fast as he could run on the 
 glossy level, still shouting. The din from the crowd 
 became an uproar. 
 
 " I've got it ! " cried Brade ; and at the very instant 
 there was a sound of rending of the ice in all directions, 
 and a dreadful plunge, and the boy was in the lake, 
 where the water was deep enough to float a ship of 
 the line like a leaf. 
 
 The din, which had been continually drawing nearer, 
 suddenly became an utter stillness, as if the splash in the 
 deadly water had swallowed up every living soul, ex- 
 cept one figure not far away from the frightful scene, 
 and one among the on-lookers afar. 
 
 Peters uttered a shriek, and for an instant faltered. 
 A terrible cry of agony, in a girl's voice, clear as the 
 track of lightning through the air, and leaving a stillness 
 as utter as is the blackness after the flash, came from 
 the bay. 
 
 "Stop, Peters!" shouted the Caput's voice; "and 
 everybody that can't help, do keep away ! Keep back ! 
 Keep back ! Where are the floats ? " 
 
 Mr. Parmenter appeared at his best here, and was 
 quick and business-like. He sent for medical men ; he 
 sent for ropes. Everybody was eager to help, to go 
 or stay. Horses and sleighs were ready ; lives, every 
 thing. 
 
 Peters half turned his head ; but all along now he
 
 402 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 guided himself by some rule of his own. He did not 
 rush headlong a single heedless step, and yet he hur- 
 ried forward, bending over, steadied by his hockey- 
 stick, and peering at the ice as he went, and never 
 taking off his eyes from the faithless and dangerous 
 ground on which he was setting his feet. 
 
 Shouts that he could not have failed to hear called 
 him by name. He never turned ; he never gave the 
 least heed. Every thought, and all his life, seemed 
 to be given to the one thing that he was doing. 
 
 A gasping, choking cry came from the drowning 
 boy ; and the noise of ice breaking again and again, as 
 Brade, in his struggle to save himself out of death, in 
 which he was already, clutched again and again the 
 treacherous water's crust. Peters groaned. 
 
 " Keep up ! keep up ! " he shouted. I'll help " (the 
 word he was so fond of), and, never lifting his eyes 
 from the ice, he went on. 
 
 Now, suddenly, he changes his way; and, never stop- 
 ping, goes down, full length, upon the ice, and pushing 
 his hockey-stick before him, works himself forward 
 with his left hand, slowly perhaps, but he has not far 
 to go. 
 
 " Catch hold of me ! Remsen ! some one ! " he cried, 
 working himself forward. 
 
 By this time the noise from all sides had gathered, 
 till it had become like the roar of the sea. Some sounds 
 might be distinguished ; but there was one that made 
 itself felt, as if it were from the very soul of the scene, 
 a pleading cry from that girl's voice, which had been 
 heard before. 
 
 Meantime, and all the while, the mass of human life 
 that was near this struggle with sudden death was
 
 THE MATCH ON THE ICE. 403 
 
 hurriedly bringing all it had, of strength and wisdom, 
 to the rescue. Dr. Evans and Dr. Mott, of Weston, 
 had been sent for by Mr. Parmenter. It seemed long, 
 long ; but it was only two or three minutes since the 
 boy had broken through. There had been a half mile 
 to come over; but the rush to the rescue had begun 
 the moment that Brade started the wrong way from the 
 shore. 
 
 " Catch hold ! " cried one of the foremost of those 
 who were running upon the ice, but still a little way 
 off. He seemed to be repeating Peters's call. 
 
 It was the new tutor, Mr. Hamersley, deathly pale. 
 He stripped himself of his outer coat, as he ran, and 
 let it fall. 
 
 " Make a line of men, right here, at these flags ! " 
 said Rector Warren, assisted by Mr. Parmenter and 
 others, who all were near enough now to help. 
 
 " The ropes are coming," said Mr. Parmenter, beck- 
 oning to bring them. 
 
 There was a hurried sound of trampling and of sleigh- 
 bells close at hand, and a confused shout, and the line 
 opened. A horse came through, and behind him, on a 
 large boat-house-float, to which he was harnessed, was 
 Mr. Stout, with three or four boys. Others of the 
 Tutors, too, were close by to give their help. 
 
 Mr. Hamersley, following Peters's plan, had already 
 gone down flat upon the ice, and was working himself 
 forward, as Peters had done ; but the leader was still 
 many yards ahead, and working on. 
 
 Oh, what a sight it was ! Amid the broken floes of 
 ice, Brade's head could be descried, and his arms, lay- 
 ing themselves on one support after another, which 
 gave way as he tried it. A sort of drowning moan 
 came from him.
 
 404 ANTONY BEADS. 
 
 " Here ! Here ! " cried Peters ; and Brade struck out 
 for him. The hooked stick, thrust out ahead, was near- 
 ing the water; but the ice broke, as Brade put up his 
 arms upon it. The haggard boy already looked like 
 one belonging to The Dead. 
 
 " I'm coming, Peters, brave boy ! " said Mr. Ham- 
 ersley. 
 
 Without a single word, but with his lips set fast 
 together, Mr. Stout had unhitched his horse, as soon as 
 lie got a little way clear of the throng, and had given 
 him in charge to Lamson, to lead back. Between the 
 silent man and the three silent boys who stayed with 
 him (Remsen was one, and Blake was one, and Towne 
 was one), there seemed a perfect understanding. All 
 four worked together as instantly as if they had a sin- 
 gle will, and had done this same work many a time 
 before. The Rector of the School came up. He saw 
 that all was going well, and, saying nothing, joined him- 
 self to the party, looking agonizingly towards the fatal 
 struggle, and laying hold, with the foremost, of one of 
 the fasts of the float, to urge it forward. 
 
 " One o' them ropes ! from Prouty ! " said Mr. Stout, 
 briefly, to Blake ; " and follow right up ! " The kindly 
 French-horn-player was already near. 
 
 Before the words could have been understood, the 
 Rector had rushed toward the advancing messengers, 
 and in another moment was back again, close upon the 
 light raft of boards now sliding fast over the glossy ice 
 to the danger, and had flung a coil of rope upon the 
 middle of it. 
 
 There was a great noise of men's and women's voices, 
 and yet there were those who marked the frightful, 
 haggard face of Kate Ryan, as, yielding and trusting to
 
 THE MATCH- ON THE ICE. 405 
 
 Mr. Manson, she was led and half borne away by 
 him. 
 
 But a cry suddenly goes up, " He's got him ! " and a 
 sort of unthinking start forward was made by the 
 crowd, but instantly checked. 
 
 Peters's hook seemed to have caught Brade's cloth- 
 ing, or to have been grappled by the drowning boy. 
 Some sound was made by Peters, as if he would speak ; 
 but 'no words were heard. Mr. Haincrsley pushed him- 
 self forward. 
 
 " Hold on ! hold on, Peters ! " he said, " hold on ! " 
 
 " That other boy ought to be stopped ! " the crowd 
 shouted ; but Peters heeded nothing but his purpose. 
 
 Mr. Stout, with his crew, had never halted or hesi- 
 tated for the twinkling of an eye. 
 
 "Now, Blake, there's new ice," he said. "You and 
 I stay back" (all the while he was fastening a rope with 
 a long free end to the front part of the float, then going 
 to the back and making a running noose there). 
 " Towne ! " he began. 
 
 Another of the fatal crackings of the ice was heard, 
 and Peters was in the ice-cold water ! A shout of 
 horror went up from those who were looking on and 
 could not help. Again a start was made by the crowd; 
 but it was checked. 
 
 Mr. Stout cast one glance. " Be we all going in ? " 
 he said ; but his hands kept about their business all 
 the time. 
 
 " Stop that man ! Don't let anybody else be drowned !" 
 shouted the crowd. 
 
 " Bring on your raft ! " called Mr. Hamersley, now 
 rising to hands and knees, and so still making his way 
 forward, almost as if he were running.
 
 406 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 "O great and loving God! Help! help! forjesus's 
 sake ! " cried Rector Warren, baring his head, and fling- 
 ing his arms forth. 
 
 " Amen ! Lord ! Lord ! " cried many a voice. 
 
 " Where's that other float ?" Mr. Stout called, as he 
 finished with the first. "Towne, yon and Remsen 
 must do it now. Down on your bellies ! " (it was done 
 before it was said) " I won't tie you ; trust to your grip, 
 if the tcorld goes, and look to God ! " said Mr. Stout. 
 
 The boys were off, shoving the raft from behind, 
 while Mr. Stout and Blake "paid out" the rope, fling-, 
 ing the end back to be grasped by those behind, the 
 first of whom, of course, was the most interested, Rector 
 Warren. " Wait, Hamersley ! " he shouted. 
 
 A crash, and Tutor Hamersley was in the icy water, 
 as if of his own will. He did not sink, and, to the hor- 
 ror of the lookers-on, his was the only head to be seen 
 among the floes. 
 
 " Keep your fast grip ! " said Mr. Stout, in a clear, 
 low voice. " Cling to your raft ! " and so the boys 
 pushed forward, and the rope slid through his hand. 
 
 Already Mr. Wilson and others had brought a second 
 float, and made it ready. The Rector seized and helped 
 it forward. Mr. Parmenter expostulated against his 
 running needless risks ; but, with his hired men, helped. 
 
 The Tutor struck out among the floating ice, and 
 grappled something. 
 
 " Now, now ! " he cried. 
 
 " Now ! " said the crowd, " on with your raft ! " 
 
 Remsen and Towne pushed forward bravely. Mr. 
 Hamersley seized their raft, and got one elbow up upon 
 it. Instantly Mr. Stout called to his boys to back 
 away, and they came safely out.
 
 THE MATCH ON THE ICE. 407 
 
 Meanwhile, with both hands and his one free arm, 
 Mr. Hamersley strove to heave a senseless, heavy mass 
 out of the water. The second raft went forward, a 
 little way off. 
 
 " Here, boys ! " said Mr. Stout, shoving with his foot 
 a piece of scantling. " Tilt your float up with this, and 
 while you're doing it keep tight hold to your raft ! " 
 
 Even while he was speaking to them, he flung a rope 
 to Mr. Hamersley. Then to the boys, again : " Now 
 prize it up, further along; but look out and hold tight ! " 
 lie added. 
 
 The work went on as fast as speech almost, and yet 
 the time seemed to be wasting. 
 
 " Quick ! quick ! can't anybody help him ? " said 
 the crowd. 
 
 Beloved and esteemed as Brade was, the persevering 
 heroism of the boy who had fearlessly, and not at all 
 unwisely, but thoughtfully, bestowed his life to save the 
 other, had so impressed all witnesses that a cry went 
 lip, " Have you got Peters ? Is it Peters ? " 
 
 The lifting and sloping of the raft was not all that 
 was wanted ; but yet it helped the faithful worker in 
 that chilling water. 
 
 " Haul ! haul! " he cried out, huskily. 
 
 There seemed a great throb in the air from the crowd, 
 and a low sobbing, as from one man, while the soaked, 
 heavy, lifeless mass was dragged over the cracking 
 ice. 
 
 "Brade! Brade!" said the crowd. 
 
 " Now one tremendous shove ! with all your might ! " 
 cried Rector Warren, whose movements had been little 
 noticed, but who was working in a sort of frenzy. As 
 the new float darted forward, he flung himself at full
 
 408 ANTONY PRADE. 
 
 length on it, and went out. The ice cracked, but did 
 not give way. 
 
 "Who's saving that man?" cried the crowd. "He 
 can't live there." 
 
 " Get Hamersley out ! " said Dr. Evans, who had just 
 come, " or you'll have another patient for me. Take 
 this boy carefully, and carry him gently. Don't jolt 
 him. As fast as you can go, and go gently. The 
 School's the nearest place." 
 
 Ned Prouty took the heavy, dripping mass like a 
 baby, and bore it tenderly. Remsen and others fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 Mr. Stout kept steadily at his work, without a word ; 
 and, before the poor boy's body had been taken off, its 
 rescuer had been dragged to solid ice, sinking, and 
 shivering, and shaking, livid and nearly dead, but 
 mindful enough to gasp a single word, " Peters ! " 
 
 Two of his brother-tutors bore him off. 
 
 Now all thoughts were turned to Peters. 
 
 The Rector of the School, on hands and knees, 
 peered for an instant from' the float, which, had been 
 checked just as it reached the edge, and then threw 
 himself in among the floating cakes of ice and struck 
 out definitely. 
 
 " He sees the other ! " was the cry of strangers. Many 
 said, " He's after Peters ! " 
 
 He had got something, and among cakes of ice made 
 his way back and got the rope in some way fastened 
 round his burden, then helped it up. 
 
 " Remember bones and flesh, men ! pull easy ! " said 
 Mr. Stout ; and the neighbors were gentle and tender 
 enough. It was drawn out as fast as a heavy and 
 jointed body could be drawn out of the water, and
 
 THE MATCH ON THE ICE. 409 
 
 over the breaking, thin ice. Once on the float, and it 
 was in their hands in a moment. 
 
 There was no crowding or rudeness. There was no 
 cry, as there had been before. The crowd of neighbors 
 held themselves back ; tlTe boys kept a little aloof. 
 
 " There's a hero, if ever anybody was ! " said Mr. 
 Stout, still working. No one else spoke ; but there was 
 a reverent and tender way about all, which showed that 
 they all thought one thing. 
 
 " It isn't the first brave thing he's done," said Blake, 
 with tears in his eyes. 
 
 Mr. Stout's float was shoved out to the Rector with- 
 out an instant's delay. 
 
 As the Red Cross came to sight, on Peters's bosom, 
 Towne said, kindly, "Those flags ought to be half- 
 mast ! " but Blake said, " I wouldn't fuss with 'em ; I 
 believe that's death ! " Russell approved. 
 
 As they bore off the body, tenderly and reverently, 
 the Rector, with help, followed. Mr. Parmenter's sleigh 
 was ready for him ; but it seemed best that he should 
 walk ; and so, with help, he followed the bearers up 
 the hill. 
 
 The crowd broke up. Many followed; many lin- 
 gered; many went sadly from the gloomy spot, in 
 different directions across the ice. 
 
 Mr. Stout steadily gathered up the ropes ; gave to 
 some of the men, who offered themselves freely, a few 
 directions about gathering the property together and 
 putting it back ; then glanced at the fire, blazing alone 
 upon the ice, and the flags flying for the holiday, and 
 turned to go. 
 
 " It's my opinion," said -he, " if there'd ben another 
 18
 
 410 ANTONY SHADE. 
 
 boy to follow Peters and hang on to him, they'd all 
 have been here alive." 
 
 " You mean Remsen ? " asked Towne, who had 
 waited, silently. 
 
 " I don't say that, but if there'd been somebody to 
 follow up. J3ut 'tis so, and I suppose 'twas meant 
 to be so."
 
 CHAPTER XXXYI. 
 
 OUR STORY IS ENDED. 
 
 THIS great happening will bring the end to our 
 story. 
 
 A telegraphic message was at once sent to a friend 
 of Mrs. Peters, to be conveyed to the widow. 
 
 Almost as soon as Proutyhad borne Brade's body in, 
 came Mrs. Ryan, agonized with grief and fear, and in- 
 sisted upon being " let go in to the child." Mrs. Wad- 
 ham, who during that dreadful time had planted herself 
 in the house, and was anywhere at any moment, to be 
 of use, was at that moment within sight and hearing, 
 and tried to take charge of her and prevent her intru- 
 sion upon Dr. Evans and his helpers. 
 
 "Bring me to the Rector! Mr. Warren!" cried 
 the other, almost frenzied. 
 
 "But Mr. Warren's in the water himself, or drowned, 
 by this time," answered Mrs. Wadham, solemnly. 
 
 The sad procession with Peters's body struck all 
 dumb; but Rector Warren, who followed, weak and 
 shivering, called Mrs. Wadham, and begged her to tell 
 the doctor that " Mrs. Ryan had a right to be in the 
 room, if any one." 
 
 Mr. Parmenter, who had come up with him, asked 
 " whether that would be entirely wise," but did not 
 press his objection ; and Mrs. Wadham undertook the
 
 412 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 charge, following close upon the bearers. Philip Rainor, 
 who, with a strange pertinacity, tried to force himself 
 in, Mr. Parmenter effectually kept out. 
 
 " Nobody has any right here but my helpers," said Dr. 
 Evans when the message was delivered to him : " we 
 cannot be hindered." 
 
 " Try me, only ! Try me ! " Mrs. Ryan said, with 
 hands clasped, and was let in. 
 
 There was one short outburst ; but she only threw 
 herself on her knees ^against the wall, without hinder- 
 ing the work which, under quick orders of Dr. Evans, 
 went on. Then she found herself a place among the 
 workers, and was most ready. 
 
 How skill and hopefulness and untiring effort were 
 used to set in motion again in these young bodies the 
 many-working powers of life before they should be 
 once for ever set fast in stillness, we need not tell. 
 Before fairly recovering himself, Mr. Hamersley sent an 
 urgent request to be allowed to help, but was enjoined 
 to keep his bed. Mr. Bruce was there at work. 
 
 Slowly and painfully, but like true life, the life came 
 back to Brade, and instantly Mrs. Ryan, who had 
 already not failed to give tender help to those who 
 were working upon the other body, left him entirely 
 for the other. But here all warm chafing, all gentle 
 forcing in and out of the life-feeding air, all scourging 
 of the water-soaked soles and palms of feet and hands, 
 showed only that the life which Peters had without 
 fear risked was lost out of this world for ever. 
 
 Brade was taken away in warm blankets to a bed 
 elsewhere ; and the faithful, loving work upon the body 
 of his true-hearted friend went on untired far into the 
 night through six or seven long, slow hours. The last
 
 OUR STORY IS ENDED. 413 
 
 who left it were Mrs. Ryan and the Tutor. But all had 
 long been done : life was not to come back, and it was 
 left for dead. As these two were folding carefully 
 the clothes which had been stripped off Peters, there 
 fell out a small plate of silver, on which was rude, 
 boyish engraving. Mr. Bruce read it aloud : 
 
 " ' B. R. C. Rosicrucians. Inst. Oct. 8, 18, by 
 me, A. P.' " 
 
 " Poor fellow! So he was the whole of that ' secret 
 society'!" he said. 
 
 " The poor, dear child, indeed ! " said Mrs. Ryan, 
 kissing his forehead. 
 
 Meantime the hours and bells went on, and the 
 Rector made a point of having all in their places at 
 tea ; but the house was still, as if no boys were in it but 
 two, the half-living and the dead, save for the noise 
 of doors, as many neighbors came and went, or of 
 voices, as when Mrs. Wadharil asked, and perhaps asked 
 again, a question of some one passing the room in 
 which she sat. She had sent often to her own house 
 for whatever she thought might be of service, and kept 
 Eldridge waiting at call. She explained that " she had 
 scarcely seen Mrs. Warren ; but that wasn't strange. 
 That Mrs. Ryan's the mother of him, that's plain 
 enough ! " she said. 
 
 " I hope it's something as creditable as that," said 
 Mr. Parmcnter. 
 
 The boys were cheered by knowing that Brade was 
 saved, and some of them reasoned that Peters had 
 been less time in the water. Among the guests in the 
 sitting-room more was known, and the evening was 
 gloomy. Mrs. Wadham meant to spend the night; 
 Mr. Parmenter, and Dr. Farwell and Mr. Don, who
 
 414 ANTONY BRADE. 
 
 were his guests, stayed late. All talked in lowered 
 voices of the sad things which had made the afternoon 
 so long as seemingly to sunder them by many a day 
 from its own forenoon. Late in the evening Mr. Man- 
 son came, having made an arrangement with the Rector 
 of the School to watch with Antony Brade. 
 
 " The mystery about him seems to be clearing off," 
 said Mr. Parmenter. 
 
 " What's a mystery for, if it ain't to be cleared up ? " 
 asked Mrs. Wadham. 
 
 " I take it, ' said Dr. Farwell,his elbows resting on his 
 chair, and his hands spread open, " that mysteries may 
 sometimes baffle investigation or elude investigation. 
 On the other hand, there are times " 
 
 " This seems to have been a very harmless mystery," 
 said Mr. Man son. 
 
 " If it proves altogether harmless to the character of 
 the School," said Mr. Parmenter, gravely. 
 
 " Exactly, sir ! I hope it'll prove so," said Mr. Don. 
 
 " I don't see how the character of the School is con- 
 cerned. He's an orphan, and Mrs. Ryan's his aunt. 
 That's all. She's an Irishwoman, and made a secret 
 of it." 
 
 " It may not be quite so harmless" said Mr. Par- 
 menter. 
 
 " Possibly not, sir," said Mr. Don. 
 
 " People sometimes have reasons," said Mrs. Wad- 
 ham, with quiet authority. 
 
 " You shall judge for yourselves. Mr. Warren has 
 known her for years, and knows all about her. Bradc, 
 her brother, looked high for his ancestors, among 
 ' Macs' or ' O's.' But then he made his living and a good 
 deal of money, with job-wagons or some such business.
 
 OVR STORY IS ENDED. 415 
 
 Just then the family, every one, died off by fever, 
 except this boy ; and his aunt brought him up, and, in 
 due time, put him here under Mr. Warren, and kept 
 the relationship to herself." 
 
 There was a silence, which Mrs. Wadham broke by 
 saying, 
 
 " I should think that was a very likely explanation : 
 yes." 
 
 " It might explain some things about the boy," said 
 Mr. Parmenter. " Well, I suppose when arrangements 
 are made, we'd better go." 
 
 " Mr. Stout will sit up with poor Peters ; but he's 
 willing to let Rainor stay with him, " said Mr. Manson. 
 
 " Why, I've told that Rainor we didn't want him 
 round here," Mr. Parmenter said hastily. 
 
 " Now," said Mr. Mansou, " he's not so bad : you 
 didn't give yourself a chance to hear what he came 
 for. He came to say he put those things on the 
 arch." 
 
 " That shows some degree of grace, now," said Dr. 
 Farwell.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 A PURPOSE FOR LIFE. 
 
 BRADE gained ; but he gained slowly. He had not 
 asked about Peters since the first day that he spoke, 
 although he constantly talked of him. At length Mr. 
 Manson sat down, and tenderly and freely told him 
 all : that " Peters had ended his life well, and entered 
 into his rest in Him who gave His life a ransom for 
 many." Mrs.Teters was in the room, looking like her 
 son. She heard the words and said, " Yes : he had 
 ended his life well. She had often feared for him in 
 the world : now she should be at peace. But she must 
 look to the boy for whom " 
 
 " I can't stay here, after Peters," said Brade, trying 
 to lift himself; " but, if I live, I'll never forget Peters, 
 and I'll try to do as he said, and help" 
 
 " God give you grace to do it, dear Antony 1 " said 
 his aunt. 
 
 Mrs. Peters took the boy's hand, and kneeled, with 
 her face bowed upon the bed, as if she prayed the same 
 thing in secret. 
 
 Mr. Manson, standing, said, 
 " AMEN ! " 
 
 Cambridge : Frets of John Wilson and Son.
 
 MESSRS. ROBERTS BROTHERS' PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 JEAN INGELOW. 
 
 OFF THE SKELLIGS. 
 
 A NOVEL 
 By JEAN INGELOW. i6mo. 670 pages. Price $1.73 
 
 From the Literary World. 
 
 " The first novel from the pen of one of the most popular 
 poets of the age written, too, in the author's maturity, 
 when her name is almost exclusively associated with verse, 
 so far as literature is concerned, and therefore to be regarded 
 as a deliberate work, and one in which she challenges the 
 decisive judgment of the public will be read with universal 
 and eager interest. . . . We have read this book with con- 
 stantly increasing pleasure. It is a novel with a soul in it, 
 that imparts to the reader an influence superior to mere 
 momentary entertainment; it is not didactic, but it teaches 
 it is genuine, fresh, healthy, presents cheerful views of life, 
 and exalts nobility of character without seeming to do so." 
 
 Extract from a private letter, not intended for publica- 
 tion, the hearty opinion of one of the most popular and 
 favorite writers of the present day: 
 
 " Thanks for the book. I sat up nearly all night to read it, and think 
 it very charming. . . . 1 hope she will soon write again ; for we need 
 ust such simple, pure, and cheerful stories here in America, where even 
 the nursery songs are sensational, and the beautiful old books we used to 
 love are now called dull and slow'. J shall sing its praises loud and long, 
 and set all my boys and girls to reading ' Off the Skelligs,' sure that they 
 will learn to love it as well as they do her charming Songs. If I Gjuld 
 reach so far, I should love to shake hands with Miss fngelow, and thank 
 'ter heartily for this delightful book." 
 
 Sold everywhere. Mailed, postpaid, by the Publishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON
 
 HOSPITAL SKETCHES AND CAMP AND 
 FIRESIDE STORIES. By LOUISA M. ALCOTT. 
 With Illustrations. Price $1.50. 
 
 " Miss Alcott performed a brief tour of hospital duty during the late war. Het 
 career as nurse was terminated by an attack of dangerous illness. But she made 
 good use of her time, and her sketches of hospital life, if briefer than could be 
 wished, make up in quality what they lack in quantity. They are, indeed, the most 
 graphic and natural pictures of life in the great army hospitals that have yet 
 appeared. Free from all affected semimentalism, they blend in a strange aod 
 piquant manner the grave and gay, the lively and severe." Phita. Inquirer. 
 
 " It is a book which is thoroughly enjoyable, and with which little fault need b* 
 found. It is not a pretentious work, and the author has only aimed at telling the 
 tory of her experience as an army hospital nurse, in an easy, natural style ; but the 
 incidents which she has given us are so varied, sometimes amusingly humorous 
 nd sometimes tenderly pathetic, and her narrative is so simple and straight- 
 forward and truthful, that the reader's attention is chained, and he finds it impos- 
 iible to resist the charm of the pleasant, kindly, keen-sighted Nurse Perriwinkle." 
 Round Table. 
 
 " Such is the title of a volume by Miss Louisa M. Alcott, author of ' Little 
 ''"omen,' one of the most charming productions of the day. Miss Alcott is a New 
 JUigland woman of the best type, gifted, refined, progressive in her opinions, 
 heroic, self-sacrificing. She devoted her time and means to the service of hei 
 country in the darkest days of the Rebellion, visiting the camp and the hospital, 
 devoting herself to the care of the sick and the dying, braving danger and privation 
 in the sacred cause of humanity. The results of her experience are embodied ic 
 these ' Sketches,' which are graphic in narrative, rich in incident, and dramatic 
 in style. Miss Alcott has a keen sense of the ludicrous, and, while she does not 
 trifle with her subject, seeks to amuse as well as instruct her reader. She has the 
 sunniest of tempers, and sees aliumorous side even to the sad life of the hospital." 
 San Francisco Bulletin. 
 
 "This volume illustrates excellently well the characteristics of Miss Alcott'i 
 talent as a novelist. Her subjects are always portions of her own experience ; her 
 characters always the people she has known, under slight disguises, or strangely 
 metamorphosed, as may happen, but easily to be recognized by those who have 
 the key to them. In this she resembles many other writers ; but there is a pecu- 
 liar blending of this realism with extreme idealization in most of her st:ries. Sh 
 succeeds best indeed, she only tucceedt at all in her real pictures. Her de- 
 scriptions are as faithful and as varied in their fidelity as life itself, so long as she 
 restricts herself to what she has actually seen and known. When she cleaves to 
 real experiences, she is sure of her effect ; and her success is always greater in 
 proportion to the depth of the experience she has to portray. For this reason 
 we have always thought ' Hospital Sketches ' her best piece ot work." Spring- 
 field Republican, 
 
 Mailed, postpaid, on receipt of the advertised price, by 
 tke Publishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS. BOSTON
 
 MESSRS. ROBERTS BROTHERS' PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 AUNT Jo's SCRAP-BAG. 
 
 BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT. 
 
 Vol. I. Comprising "My Boys," &c. i6mo. Cloth, gilt. 
 Price $1.00. 
 
 From the London A thenteum. 
 
 A collection of fugitive tales and sketches which we should nave been sorry ta 
 lose. Miss Alcott's boys and girls are always delightful in her hands. She 
 throws a loving glamour over them ; and she loves them herself so heartily thtt it 
 is not possible for the reader to do otherwise. We have found the book very 
 pleasant to read. 
 
 From the New York Tribune. 
 
 The large and increasing circle of juveniles who sit enchanted year in and out 
 round the knees of Miss Alcott will hail with delight the publication of " Aunt 
 Jo's Scrap-Bag." The most taking of these taking tales is, to our fancy, " My 
 Boys ; " but all possess the quality which made " Little Women " so widely popu- 
 lar, and the book will be welcomed and read from Maine to Florida. 
 
 Mrs. Haiti in Godey's Lady's Book. 
 
 These little stories are in every way worthy of the author of " Little Women." 
 They will be read with the sincerest pleasure by thousands of children, and in 
 that pleasure there will not be a single forbidden ingredient. " My Coys," which, 
 opening upon by chance, we read through at a sitting, is charming. Ladislas, the 
 noble, sweet-tempered Pole, is the original of Laurie, ever to be remembered ~j 
 all " Aunt Jo's " readers. 
 
 From the Providence Press. 
 
 Dear Aunt Jo ! You are embalmed in the thoughts and loves of thousand! 
 of little men and little women. Your scrap-bag is rich in its stores of good thingo. 
 Pray do not close and put it away qi ite yet. 
 
 This is Louisa Alcott's Christm.is tribute to the young people, and it is, like 
 ierself, good. In making selections, "Aunt Jo's Scrap-Bag" must not be for- 
 gotten. There will be a vacant pl.ice where this little volume is not. 
 
 Sold everywhere. Mailed, postpaid, by the Publisher!, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON
 
 Messrs. Roberts Brother? Publications. 
 
 AUNT Jo's SCRAP-BAG. 
 
 BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT. 
 
 Vol. //., comprising- " Shawl-Straps." 
 
 l6mo. Cloth, gilt. Price $1.00. 
 
 Front tht Morning Star. 
 
 Nobody expects from Miss Alcott any thing but books of the raciest quahtist 
 Mid the choicest flavors. This story of her foreign travel, in company with two 
 female friends, is just as vivacious and unique as any thing previously issued with 
 her name on the title-page. One may have read the narratives and notes of forty 
 tourists over the same field, but he cannot afford to neglect this story. He will 
 find nothing repeated either in substance or form. It is a new vein that is here 
 worked, and the products are all singularly fresh. It is a rare literary bundle 
 which these shawl-straps enclose. 
 
 Mr. Whiffle, itt the Boston Globe. 
 
 Roberts Brothers have published a small volume the mere announcement of 
 which is enough to insure its circulation. This volume is " Shawl-Straps," a 
 second part of "Aunt Jo's Scrap-Bag," by Louisa M. Alcott, a name well 
 known to all " little men," and " little women," and " old-fashioned girls," now 
 inhabiting the country. The book is a racy, almost rollicking account of the per- 
 sonal experiences' of three American women travelling in France, Switzerland, 
 Italy, and England. 
 
 Miss Alcott carefully abstains from writing what is called a book of travels, 
 and confines herself to giving an amusing account of what really occurred to 
 herself and her two companions. Thus, in London, the party devoted much 
 more time in hunting up Dickens's characters than in visiting "leading object* of 
 interest." They nearly succeeded in finding Mrs. Gamp, and actually took " weal 
 pie and porter" at Mrs. Todger's. The description of Spurgeon and his congre- 
 gation is the most life-like we have ever read. Indeed the whole tone of the book 
 is that of conversation, in which the familiarity of ordinary talk is accompanied 
 with more than ordinary certainty of phrase, so that her readers may, in some 
 ense, be said to join the party and become " Shawl-Strappists " themselves. It 
 may be added that one is never tired of any record of a foreign tour which makes 
 him or her a companion of the journey ; and, as Miss Alcott succeeds in doing 
 this, the principal objection which will be made to her book is its shortness. 
 
 Sold mttywhere. Mailed, postpaid, by the Publishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON.
 
 AUNT Jo's SCRAP-BAG, 
 
 CUPID AND CHOW-CHOW, ETC. 
 
 BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT, 
 
 ACIHOB OF "LITTLE WOMEN," "AN OLD-FASHIONED GIKL," "LITTLE MWT,' 
 "HOSPITAL SKETCHES." 
 
 BOSTON: 
 EGBERTS BROTHERS. 
 
 1875.
 
 Messrs. Roberts Brothers 1 Publications. 
 
 SHAWL-STRAPS. 
 
 BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT. 
 
 BEING THE SECOND VOLUME OF "AUNT Jo's SCRAP-BAG." 
 One vol. i6mo. Cloth. Price $1.00. 
 
 From the Index, Toledo, Ohio. 
 
 The capital quality of Miss Alcott's writing for young people has already mad* 
 her fortune as an author, so that we have only to tell what any new book is about, 
 and to give it a cordial welcome. This is Volume II. out of the " Scrap- Bag," 
 and is in fact a volume of travels with a thread of charming story in it, and a book 
 of as much interest to older as to younger readers. Brittany, France, Switzerland, 
 Italy, and London are visited by Amanda, Matilda, and Lavinia, particularly 
 Lavinia ; and we are told of the haps and mishaps of the party, with just enough 
 refeience to sights and scenes to give a good color to the story. It is all in Miss 
 Alcott's breezy, jolly style, with plenty of sense and sensibility stuffed nicely in, 
 like plums in a pudding, and real plums of good wit and fine feeling too. The pub- 
 Ushers have made of the volume a very pretty book. 
 
 From the Boston Transcript. 
 
 Let every one who desires a bright, cheery view of European travel follow the 
 footsteps of the brilliant trio whose haps and mishaps are charmingly pictured in 
 " Shawl-Straps." The book is refreshing as cold water to the thirsty, overflowing 
 with good nature which will bring a smile to the soberest face, bubbling with fun 
 like the beading on champagne, full of the philosophy which marks character soft- 
 ened by discipline, and bright with the radiant light beaming from eyes swift to sec 
 the best side of human nature,, and bound to ignore its perplexities and troubles. 
 
 We have found real enjoyment in following in the track of the inspired maidens, 
 sympathizing with the sage and matronly Lavinia, fascinated by the linguistic and 
 sprightly Amanda, and admiring the artistic and flirtatious Matilda. " Shawl- 
 Straps" is a model book of travels, abounding in useful information, keen per- 
 ception of the comic, artistic appreciation, and energetic determination to make the 
 best of every thing, while dull statistics and beaten tracks are delightfully thrown 
 tt the winds. 
 
 From the Literal Christian, 
 
 Just the cheeriest, jolliest story of a year's sojourn in "foreign parts' that 
 could well be imagined. Of course, judging from her former writings, Miss 
 Alcott's account of her recent travels could not fail to be en tertaining. She bring* 
 keen, bright eyes to examine all that she sees ; she has much good common sense, 
 and a wonderful stock of wit and humor which never fails her. 
 
 Sold everywhere* Mailed, postpaid, by the Publishers^ 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON.
 
 A Posthumous Work by Leigh Hunt. 
 
 r pHE BOOK OF THE SONNET. Edited by LEIGH 
 J- HUNT and S. ADAMS LEE. A posthumous work by that 
 celebrated Essayist, LEIGH HUNT, will naturally attract the at- 
 tention of all his admirers. // is now first published from the 
 manuscript, and contains an Essay on English and Italian Son- 
 nets, with a Selection, by LEIGH HUNT ; an Essay on American 
 Sonnets, and a Selection, by S. ADAMS LEE. In two beautiful 
 post 8vo volumes. Cloth, gilt top. Price, $ 5.00. 
 
 " The Essay on the Sonnet, by Leigh Hunt, is one of the sprightliest, dainti- 
 est, most genial, and most intelligent pieces of mingled narrative, exposition, 
 and criticism which its accomplished and lovable author ever wrote." Boston 
 Transcript. 
 
 " Leigh Hunt left behind him, unpublished, ' The Book of the Sonnet,' con- 
 isting of an ' Essay on the Cultivation, History, and Varieties of the Species 
 of Poem called the Sonnet,' a delightful piece of thoughtful and tasteful criti- 
 cism, concluding with specimens of English Sonnets, from Sir Thomas Wyatt 
 to Professor John Stuart Blackie, and, with Mr. Hunt's approbation, the idea 
 was still farther carried out by Mr. Lee, who contributed an essay on American 
 Sonnets and Sonneteers, with specimens culled from the writings of over sixty 
 American poets. The critical and historical portion of this work occupies 131 
 pages, and is worth careful study, particularly by those writers who, ignorant 
 or forgetful of the peculiar construction of that species of poemlet, think that 
 fourteen lines, rhymed 'any how,' constitute a Sonnet. Ill health and other 
 causes have delayed the publication of 'The Book of the Sonnet' until now." 
 DR. MACKENZIE in " The Press." 
 
 " The whole subject of the Sonnet is here treated in a very masterly manner, 
 by a man who understood it thoroughly, and whose taste in poetry was exquisite. 
 This is preceded by an Introductory Letter, written by Mr. Hunt to Mr. Lee, 
 which will be read with as much pleasure because of its generous and genial 
 tone as the Essay because of the affluence of learning it shows, and its usually 
 sound criticism. Mr. Lee contributes a most readable paper on American Son- 
 nets and Sonneteers, extending to thirty-six pages, and containing much curioua 
 information, and not a little judicious remark." Boston Traveller. 
 
 Mailed to any address, post-paid, on receipt of price, by tlm 
 Publishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston
 
 THOUGHTS ABOUT ART. 
 
 Bv PHILIP GILBERT HAMERTON, 
 
 Author of "A Painter's Camp." 
 
 SECOND AMERICAN EDITION. REVISED BY THB AUTHOR. 
 One Vol. i6mo. Price $2.00. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 i . That Certain Artists should write 
 
 on Art. 
 a. Painting from Nature. 
 
 3. Painting from Memoranda. 
 
 4. The Place of Landscape Painting 
 
 amongst the Fine Arts. 
 J. The Relation between Photog- 
 raphy and Painting. 
 
 6. Wood Painting and Color Paint- 
 
 ing. 
 
 7. Transcendentalism in Painting. 
 
 8. The Law of Progress in Art. 
 
 9. Analysis and Synthesis in Paint- 
 
 ing. 
 
 10. The Reaction from Pre- Raphael- 
 
 itism. 
 
 11. The Painter in His Relation to 
 
 Society. 
 13. Picture Buying. 
 
 13. The Housing of National Art 
 
 Treasures. 
 
 14. Fame. 
 
 15. Art Criticism. 
 
 16. Proudhon as a Writer on Art. 
 
 17. Two Art Philosophers. 
 
 18. Furniture. 
 
 19. The Artistic Spirit. 
 
 Since the publication of that charming volume, "A Painter's 
 Camp," Mr. Hamerton has published "The Unknown River: 
 An Etcher's Voyage of Discovery," with thirty-seven illustra- 
 tions, etched from nature, by the author. The Unknown River 
 was -the Arroux, a tributary of the Loire, and the voyage wa 
 pei formed in a boat built by the author, with his dog Tom for 
 his only companion ; and the illustrations were etched from na- 
 ture on the way. Nothing can be more delightful than this 
 volume; it is a marvel of artistic interest. 
 
 "Thoughts about Art" will be mailed, postpaid, to any ad- 
 dress, on receipt of the advertised price, by the publishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
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