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Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mAthode. 1 t 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 Bert Lloyd's Boyhood. Page 3,'). •'■- '^^■^'' *-^ift'^'mt;i^,i^;;- _ =^ ... >*s "♦ rn l>b f ) *)?■■■■ (i><#) ^ 'S ' . " ft- ^.i. ^^ iS) u Or ^•^ ■••^'*. ■••^T'^ '••"hT'*^ i-^-^-:*-:^^--^' ■^I^'J^JS' x^-:.- I iME] T ERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. BY J. MACDONALD OXLEY. PHILADELPHIA : lMerican baptist publication societt. 1420 Chestnat Street 261466 Entered, according to Act of Congntu, in the year 1889, \>j the AMERICAN BAPTIST PUBLICATION SOCIETY, III the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. CONTENTS. PAoa CHArTER I. Ikrt 18 Tntroduckp, 6 CHAPTER II. ^IREMAM OR SOLDIKR, U CHAPTER III. fo. 6 Fort Strkkt, 17 CHAPTj^IU iV. Ikf to the Country, 21 CHAPTER V. 'iiK liiDE IK TiiK Coach, 28 CHAPTER VI. T (irandfather's, 87 CHAPTER VII. iJotNTRY EXPERIENCKS, 44 CHAPTER VIII. 'emi'tation and Triumph, 64 CHAPTER IX. jOst axd Found, 63 CHAPTER X. (ert goes to School, 77 CHAPTER XI. Jciiooi. Life at Mr. Garrison's, 88 CHAPTER XII. Question of Influence, 102 CHAPTER XIII. Jekt at Home, 112 CHAPTER XIV. iN Honorable Scar, 122 CHAPTER XV. Change of School, • . .183 8 It 4 CONTENTS. PAGE CHAPTER XVI. ToK First Dats at Dr. Johnston's, ... 145 CHAPTER XVII. The H018TINO, 156 CHAPTER XVIII. School Experiknce, ....... 167 CHAPTER XIX. Victory and Defeat, 178 1 CHAPTER XX. A Narpcw^ Escape, 193 CHAPTER XXL Learning to Swim, 206 CHAPTER XXIL How Hoisting was Ab(/Lisued, 215 CHAPTER XXIIL Prize Winning and Losing, 226 CHAPTER XXIV. A Chapter on Ponies, 24C | CHAPTER XXV. About Two Kinds of Ponies, 250 CHAPTER XXVL Victory Won From Defeat, 260 CHAPTER XXVIL About Literature and Law, 274 CHAPTER XXVIIL Well done, Boys, 287 CHAPTER XXIX. The Valley of the Shadow, 300 CHAPTER XXX. Home Mi^icionary Work, 310 CHAPTER XXXL Not Dead, but Translated, 820 CHAPTER XXXIL Boys no IjONGER, 333 J BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. CHAPTER I. BERT IS INTRODUCED. F Cutlibert Llovd had been born in the time of our great grandfathers, instead of a little later than he first half of the present century, the gossips would ^suredly have declared that the good fairies had had all their own way at his birth. To begin with, he was a particularly fine handsome )aby ; for did not all tiie friends of the family say so ? [n tlie second place, he was an only son, which meant [hat lie had no big brothers to bully him. Next, liis )irthplace was the stirring seaport of Halifax, where sturdy, energetic boy, such as Cuthbert certainly gave food promise of l>eing, need never lack for fun or idventure. Finally, he had plenty of relations in the )untry to whom he might go in the summer time to jurn the secrete and delights of country life. Now, when to all these advantages are added two nd but sensible parents in comfortable circumstances, \\\ elder sister who loved little Cuthbert with the whole treugth of her warm unselfish heart, and a pleasant 6 BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. home in the best part of the city, they surely make us as fiue a list of blessings as the most benevolent fairy godmother could reasonably have been expected to bestow. And yet there was nothing about Master Cuthbcrt's early conduct to indicate that he properly appreciated his good fortune. He was not half as well-beliaved a baby, for instance, as red-headed little Patsey Shea, who, a few days after his first appearance, brought another hungry mouth to the already over-populated cottage of the milkwoman down in Hardhands's lane. As he grew older, it needed more whippings than the sum total of his own chubby fingers and toes to instill into him a proper understanding of parental authority. Sometimes his mother, who was a slight small woman, stronger of mind than of body, would feel downright discouraged about her vigorous, willful boy, and \vond<.'r, half-despairingly, if she were really equal to the task of bringing him up in the way he should go. Cuthbert was in many respects an odd mixture. His mother often said that he seemed more like two boys of opposite natures rolled into one, than just oue ordinary boy. When quite a little chap, he would at one time be as full of noise, action, and enterprise as the captain of an ocean steamer in a gale, and at another time be as sedate, thoughtful, and absent- minded as the ancient philosopher who made himself famous by walking into a well in broad daylight. Cuthbert, in fact, at the age of three, attracted atteu- BERT Lloyd's boyhood. m to himself in a. somewhat similar way. His iothcr had taken him with her in making some calls, 1(1 at Mrs. Allen'S; in one of his thoughtful moods, rith his hands clasped behind him, he went wandering Y unobserved. Presently he startled the whole house- )ld by tumbling from the top to the bottom of the itchen stairs, having calmly walked over the edge in absorbed study of his surroundings. The other side of his nature was brilliantly illus- ited a year later. Being invited to spend the day rith a playmate of his own age, he built a big nre rith newsi)apers in the bath room, turned on all the ips, pretending that they were the hydrants, and then m through the hall, banging a dustpan and shouting fire " at the top of his voice. " He is such a perfect ^ pickle,' I hardly know what do with him, "Robert," said Mrs. Lloyd to her nisband, with a big sigh, one evening at dinner. " Don't worry, my dear, don't worry. He has more ban the usual amount of animal spirits, that is all. leep a firm hand on him and he'll come out all right," uiswered Mr. Lloyd, cheeringly. " It's easy enough to say, * Keep a firm hand on him,' lobert, but my hand gets pretty tired sometimes, I ?an assure you. I just wish you'd stay at home for a week and look after Bert, while I go to the office in your place. You'd get a better idea of what your son is like than you can by seeing him for a little while in the morning and evening." BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. " Thank you, Kate, I've no doubt you might manage to do my work at the office, and that my clients would think your advice very good ; but I'm no less sure that I would be a dismal failure in doing your work at home," responded Mr. Lloyd, with a smile, adding, more seriously: "Anyway, I have too much faith in your ability to make the best of Bert to think of spoiling your good work by clumsy interference." " It's a great comfort to have you put so much faitli in me," said Mrs. Lloyd, with a grateful look, " fur it's more than Bert does sometimes. Why, he told me only this morning that he thought I wasn't half as good to him as Frankie Clayton's mother is to him, just because I wouldn't let him have the garden hose to play fireman with." "Just wait until he's fifteen, my dear," returned Mr. Lloyd, "and if he doesn't tLink then that lie has one of the best mothers in the world, why — I'll never again venture to prophesy, that's all. And here comes my little man to answer for himself," as the door opened suddenly and Bert burst in, making straight for his father. " Ha ! ha ! my boy, so your mother says you're a perfect pickle. Well, if you're only pickled in a way that will save you from spoiling, I shall be satisfied, and I think your mother may be, too." Mrs. Lloyd laughed heartily at the unexpected turn thus given to her c(^mplaint; and Bert, seeing both his parents in such good humor, added a beaming face on BERT Lloyd's boyhood. is own account, although, of course, without having le .slightest idea as to the cause of their merriment. Climbing up on his father's knee, Bert pressed a lump cheek lovingly against tlie lawyer's brown frhiskers and looked, what indeed he was, the picture f happy content. "Wliat sort of a man are you going to make, Bert?" Bked Mr. Lloyd, quizzingly, the previous conversation }intj still in his mind. " I'm going to be a fireman," replied Bert, promptly ; and Frankie's going to be one, too." " And why do you want to be a fireman, Bert ? " " Oh, because they wear such grand clothes and can lake such a noise without anybody telling them to ^hut up," answered Bert, w hose knowledge of firemen ivas based upon a torchlight procession of them he lad seen one night, and their management of a fire ^hat had not long before taken place in the near neigh- )orhood, and of which he was a breathless spectator. Mr. Lloyd could not resist laughing at his son's laive reply, but there was no ridicule in his laugh, IS Bert saw clearly enough, and he was encouraged to idd: " Oh, father, please let me be a fireman, won't you?" " We'll see about it, Bert. If we can't find anything )etter for you to do than being a fireman, why we'll try to make a good fireman of you, that's all. But never mind about that now ; tell me what was the best fun you had to-day." Thus invited, Bert proceeded :!i|l r-i 10 BERT LLOYD 8 BOYHOOD. I'll to tell after his own fashion the doings of the day, with his father and mother an attentive audience. It was their policy to always manifest a deep interest in everything Bert had to tell, and in this way thcv made him understand better j)erhaps than they could otherwise have done how thoroughly they symimthized with him in both the joys and sorrows of his little life. They were determined that the most complete confidence should be established between them and their only boy at the start, and Bert never appeared to such advantage as when, with eyes flashing and graphic gestures, he would tell about something won- derful in his eyes that had happened to him that afternoon. By the time Bert had exhausted his budget and been rewarded with a lump of white sugar, the nurse appeared with the summons to bed, and after some slight demur he went off in good humor, his father saying, as the door closed upon him : " There's not a better youngster of his age in Hali- fax, Kate, even if he hasn't at present any higher ambition than to be a fireman." iiiii CHAPTER II. FIREMAN OR SOLDIER. ALIFAX has already been mentioned as a par- ticularly pleasant place for a boy to be born in ; id so indeed it is. Every schoolboy knows, or ij.'-lit to know, that it is the capital of Acadia, one ihe Maritime Provinces of the Dominion of Canada. It has a great many advantages, some of rliicii are not shared by any other city on the conti- lent. Situated right on the sea coast, it boasts a laguifieent harbor, in which all the war vessels of the ^orld, from the mijjjhtiest iron clad to the tiniest tor- }do boat, might lie at anchor. Beyond the harbor, }parated from it by only a short strait, well-named he "Narrows," is an immense basin that seems just Icsigned for yachting and excursions ; while brauch- ig out from the harbor in different directions are two [ovely fiords, one called the Eastern Passage, leading )ut to the ocean again, and the other running away up ito the laud, so that there is no lack of salt water rora which cool breezes may blow on the torrid days. The city itself is built upon the peninsula that livides the harbor from the northwest arm, and )eginnlng about Iialf a mile fr6m the point of the )omu^5ula, runs northward almost to the Narrows, and 11 12 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. !i!i sprrads out westward until its farthest edge touches the shore of the arm. The " Point " has been wisely set aside for a public park, and except where a fort or two, built to command the entrance to the harbor, intrudes upon it, the forest of spruce and fir with lU labyrinth of roads and paths and frequent glades of soft waving grass, extends from shore to shore, mak- ing a wilderness that a boy's imagination may easily people with Indians brandishing tomahawk and ecal|)- ing knife, or bears and wolves seeking whom they may devour. Halifax being the chief military and naval station for the British Coltjnies in America, its forts and bar- racks are filled with red-coated infantry or blue-coated ^rtillery the whole year round. All summer long great iron clads bring their imposing bulks to anchor off the Dockyard, and Jack Tars in foolish, merry, and, alas ! too often vicious companies, swagger through the streets in noisy enjoyment of their day on shore. On either side of the harbor, on the little island which rests like an emerald brooch upon its bosom, and high above the city on the crown of the hill up which it wearily climbs, street beyond street, stsiiid frowning fortresses with mighty guns thrusting their black muzzles through the granite embrasures. In fact, the whole place is pervaded by the influences of military life ; and Cuthbert, whose home overlooked a disused fort, now serving the rather ignoble purpose BERT Lloyd's boyhood. m a dwelling-place for married soldiers, was at first llv i)or8uaWr That was, no doubt, an extravagant estimate, yet it Mas not without excuse; for tall, erect, and stalwart, with regular features, large brown eyes that looked strai^lit at you, fine whiskers and moustache, and a kindly cordial expression, Mr. Lloyd made a very good appear- ance in the world. Especially did he, since he never forgot the neatness and good taste in dress of liis bachelor days, as so many married men are apt to do, Cuthbert's mother was of quite a different type, Her husband used to joke her about her being good for a standard of measurement because she stood jii,-t five feet in heigb.t, and weighed precisely one hundrcJ pounds. Bert, one day, seemed to reali: : what a mite of a woman she was ; for, after looking her all over, he said, very gravely : " What a little mother you are ! I will soon be a' big as you, won't I ? " Brown of hair and eyes, like Mr. Lloyd, her face was a rare combination of sweetness and strenuth. Bert thought it lovelier than any angel's he had ever seen in a picture. Indeed, there was much of the ano-elic in his mother's nature. She had marvcloii; control over her feelings, and never by any chance gave way to temper openly, so that in all his yoiin:.' life her boy had no remembrance of receiving fioni her a harsh word, or a hasty, angry blow. Not thai she was weak or indulgent. On the contrary, not only Bert, but Bei-t's playmates, and some of their mothers, too, thought her quite too strict at times, foi BERT Lloyd's boyhood. n was a firm believer in discipline, and Master Bert ; taught to abide by rules from the outset. riie tiiird niomber of the household was the only igliter, Mary, a tall gracx^ful girl, who had inherited my of her fatlier's qualities together with her )tlier's sweetness. In Bert's eyes she was just iply perfect. She was twice as old as he when he six years to his credit, and tiie difference in age ide her seem like a second mother to him, except it he felt free to take more liberities with her than h his mother. But she did not mind this much, for ^^a^ passion:n^oly fond of her little brother, and inclined to spoil him, if anything. ls for Bert himself — well, he was just a stout, sturdy, irty, boy, with notliing very remarkable about 1, unless perhaps it was his superabundant health spirits. Nobody, unless it was that most partial Igo, Mary, thought him handsome, but everybody nitted that he was good looking in ever^" sense of term. He promised to be neither tall, like his her. nor short, like his mother; but of a handy, scr- ['iiblc medium height, with plenty of strength and Inrance in his tough little frame. Not onlv were th eyes and hair brown, as might be expected, but face, too, as might also be expected, seeing that no mds were placed upon his being out of doors, so fg as the day was fine, and he himself was keeping of mischief. ''ather, mother, daughter, and son, these four made 20 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. -III! Ill 'i up a very aifectionate and happy family, pulling well together ; and so far as the three older ones were con- cerned, with their faces and hearts set toward Jerusa- lem, and of one mind as to taking Bert along witli them. Mr. Lloyd and his wife were thoroughly m accord with Dr. Austin Phelps as to this : That the children of Christians should be Christian from the cradle. They accordingly saw no reason why the only son that God had given them should ever go out into sin, and then be brought back from a far-off land, Surely, if they did their duty, he need never stray far away. That was the way they reasoned ; and although, of course, little Bert knew nothing about it, that Mai the plan upon which they sought to bring him up, The task was not altogether an easy one, as succeeding chaptei's of Bert's history will make plain. But the plan was adhered to and the result justified its wisdom. CHAPTER IV. OFF TO THE COUNTRY. I HE letter which came in such good time to relieve Mrs. Lloyd from the difficulty about Bert's fond- 3s for the guardroom, and its hurtful influences, was >ni her father, and contained an invitation so press- as to be little short of a demand, for her to pay a long visit at the old homestead, bringing Bert til her. ^Irs. Lloyd very readily and gladly accepted the citation. Midsummer was near at hand. She had visited her old home for some years. Her father mother were aging fast ; and then, naturally )ugh, she was eager to show them what a fine boy was growing to be. lien Bert heard of it, he showed the utmost de- it. Three years before he had spent a summer at indfather's, but then, of course, he was too young to more than be impressed by the novelty of his roil 11(1 ings. The huge oxen, the noisy pigs, the ritcd horses, even the clumsy little calves, be- ld(M-e(l, if tlicv did not alarm him. But now he felt enough to enjoy them all; and the very idea of ii,u' back to them filled him with joy, to which lie re expression after his own boisterous fashion. 21 (11 22 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. ■' " Mother, are we going to grandfather's to-morrow ? '' he would eagerly ask, day after day, his little heart throbbing with impatience. "We're going soon, Bert dear. You must be patient, you know," his mother would gently reply and the little fellow would make a very heroic effon to control himself. At length the day of departure arrived. Too full of importance and great expectations to manifest a proper amount of sorrow at leaving his father ami sister, who felt very reluctant, indeed, to part witt him, Master Bert took his place in the cab and drovi up to the railway station. Hardly had he entered i* than he made a dash for the train, climbed up on tht rear platform with the agility of a monkey, much t the amusement of the conductor, whose proffer oi assistance he entirely ignored ; and when Mr. IjIovc | entered the car, a minute later, he found his enter prising son seated comfortably upon a central scat^ and evidently quite ready for the train to start. " Would you go away without saying good-bye t( ; your father and to Mary ? " asked Mr. Lloyd, in a| deeply reproachful tone. Bert blushed violently on being thus reminded ofl his apparent selfishness, and, with the threat of a teal in his eye, was about to make some sort of a defensei when his father put him all right again by sayingj brightly: "Never mind, my boy. It isn't every day you ■'I'll ! J BERT LLOYD S BOYHOOD. 23 loiT on a luindred-and-fifty-miles journey. Mary and [I w ill forgive you for forgetting us this time, won't we, [Mary ? " The lunch basket, the wra})S, and their other belong- lings were placed on the seat, the engine whistled, " all al)oar(l," the bell rang, the conductor shouted, affec- ti(jiiate farewells were hastily exchanged, and presently the train rolled noisily out of the dark station into the bright sunshine ; and Bert, leaning from the window, caught a last glimpse of his father and sister as they Btuod waving the handkerchiefs which one of them, at |l('iL«t, could not refrain from putting to anotlier use, as Itlie last car swept round the turn and vanished. But Bert was in no mood for tears. In fact, he i never felt less like anything of the kind. He felt mucii more disposed to shout aloud for very joy, and probably would have done so, but for the restraining influence exercised by the presence of the other pas- sengers, of whom there were a good many in the car. As it was, he gave vent to his excited feelings by being as restless as a mosquito, and asking his mother as many questions as his active brain could invent. " You'll be tired out by mid-day, Bert, if you go on at this rate, " said his mother, in gentle warning. " Oh, no, I won't, mother ; I won't get tired. See ! What's that funny big thing with the long legs in that field?" ^' That's a frame for a hay stack, I think. You'll s«^e plenty of tliose at grandfather^s. " V |[| i ::;^^i^i' 24 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. ) ill I I'i " And what's that queer thing with arms sticking out from tliat building ? " " That's a wind mill. When the wind blows hard those arms go round, and turn machinery inside the barn." " And has grandpapa got a wind mill, mother ?" " Yes ; he has one on his big barn. " " Oh, I'm so glad ; I can watch it going round, and stand quite close, can't I?" " Yes, but take care not to go too close to the ma- chinery. It might hurt you very much, you know." And so it went on all through the morning. Mrs. Lloyd would have liked very much to read a little in an interesting book she had brought with her, but what with watching Bert's restless movements, and answering his incessant questions, there seemed sliglit hope of her rncceeding in this until, after they had been a '•'^uple of hours on their journey, a good- natured gentleman on the opposite seat, who had fin- ished his paper, and had nothing particular to do, took in the situation and came to her relief. " Won't you come over and keep me company for a while, my little man ? " he said, pleasantly, leaning across the aisle. "I will try and answer all your questions for you. " Bf^rt looked curiously at the speaker, and then, the t'cn proving satisfactory^, inquiringly at his . She nodded her assent, so forthwith he ran ais new friend, and climbed up beside him. :V>t BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. 25 was given the corner next the window, and while lis bright eyes took in everything as the train sped on, lis tongue wagged no less swiftly as question followed lucstion in quick succession. Mrs. Lloyd, thoroughly It ease now, returned to her book with a grateful sigh ]{ relief, and an hour slipped away, at the end of rliirh Bert's eyes grew heavy with sleep. He no )nger was interested in the scenery; and at last, after gallant struggle, his curly head fell over on the ishion, and he went into a deep sleep, from wliich he lid not waken until at mid-day the train drew up at ^lie station, beyond which they could not go by rail. " Come, Bert, wake up ! "We must get out here, " feried his mother, shaking him vigorously. Rubbing his eyes hard, yawning as though he rould put his jaws out of joint, and feeling very un- )mfortable generally, Bert nevertheless managed to )ull himself together sufficiently to thank the gentle- lan who had been so kind to him before he followed lis mother out of the car. They had dinner at Thurso, and by the time it was ready Bert was ready too. He had been altogether 30 nmeh excited at breakfast time to eat much then, )ut he made up for it now. Mrs. Lloyd laughed as le asked again and again for more, but she did not iheck him. Slie knew very well that the contented frame of mind produced by a good dinner was just th(i right thing with which to enter upon the second 3art of their journey. This was to be by coach, and 26 BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. 'ii! -il!i!| IMii! as even the best of coaches is a pretty cramped sort of an affair unless yon have it all to yonrself, the quieter Bert was disposed to be the better for all concerned. " What are we to ride in now, mother?" asked Beit, after the vacancy underneath h's blue blouse had been sufficiently filled to dispose him to conversation. " In a big red coach, dear, with six fine horses to draw us, " answered Mrs. Lloyd. " Oh, mother, won't that be splendid ? And may I sit up with the driver?" " Perhaps you may, for a little while, anyway, if he will let you. " " Hooray ! " cried Bert, clapping his hands with delight ; " I'm sure the driver will let me, if you'll only ask him. You will, won't you, mother?" " Yes, I will, after we get out of the town. But you must wait until I think it's the right time to ask liim." " I'll wait, mother, but don't you forget." Forget ! Tiiere was much likelihood of Mrs. Llovd forgetting with this lively young monkey before her as a constant reminder. They had just finislied dinner, when, with clatter of hoofjj, rattle of springs, and crush of gravel under the heavy wheels, the great Concord coach drew up before the hotel door in dashiuir stvle. Bert was one of the first to greet it. He did not even wait to put on his hat, and his mother, following with it, found him in the forefront of the crowd that BEiJT Lloyd's boyhood. 27 lalwnvs gatliers about the mail coach in a country [town, gazing up at tlie driver, who sat in superb diL^iity upon his lofty seat, as though he had never [bciicld so exalted a being in his life before. Tliere was something so impassive, so indifferent to hiis surroiiiulings, about this big, bronzed, black -mous- [tnclied, and broad-hatted driver, that poor Bert's i heart sanlc within him. He felt perfectly sure that I /jc could never in the world muster up sufficient courage to bog for the privilege of a seat beside so impressive |a potentate, and 'le doubted if his mother could, either. Among th' issengers Bert was glad to see the gentleman who had befriended him on the cars, and when this individual, after having the audacity to hail the driver familiarly with, " Good-morning, Jack ; looks as if we were going to have a pleasant trip down," sprang up on the wheel, and thence to tiie vacant place beside Jack Davis, just as though it belonged to him of right, a ray of hope stole into Bert's heart. If his friend of the cars, whose name, by the way, he told Bert, was Mr. Miller, was on such good terms with the driver, perhaps he woidd ask him to let a little boy sit up in front for a while. TMking much comfort from this thought, Bert, at a call from his mother, who Mas already seated, climbed lip into the coach, and being allowed the corner next the window, with head thrust forth as far as Avas safe, he awaited eagerly the signal to start. CHAPTER V. THE RIDE IN THE COACH. THE last passenger had taken his seat, the last trunk been strapped on behind, and the canvjis covering drawn tightly over it, the mail bags safely stowed away in the capacious boot ; and tlien big Jack Davis, gathering the reins of his six impatient steeds skillfully into one hand, and grasping the long-lashed whip in tlie other, sang out to the men who stood at the leaders^ heads : " Let them go ! " The men dropped the bridles and sprang aside, tlie long lash cracked like a pistol shot, the leaders, a beautiful pair of gray ponies, perfectly matched, reared, curvetted, pranced about, and then would have dashed off at a wild gallop had not Jack Davis* strong hands, aided by the steadiness of the staider wheelers, kept them in check ; and soon brought down to a spirited canter, they led the way out of the town. Tlie coach had a heavy load. It could hold twelve passengers inside, and every seat was occupied on top. Besides Mr. Miller, who had the coveted box seat, there were two other men perched upon the coach top, and making the best of their uncomfortable position ; and there was an extra amount of baggage. 28 :iiii! allllliU BERT LIX)YD's BOYHOOD. 29 " Plenty of work for my horses to-day, Mr. Miller, " iitriot; well-cultivated farms, making frequent gaps [n the forest, and many a brook and river lending va- riety to the scene. Afler Bert had groNvn accustomed the novelty of his position, his tongue began to wag iiiam, and his bright, innocent questions afforded Mr. diller so much amusement, that with Jack Davis' full ipproval, he was invited to remain during the next 32 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. I Jiiili stage also, Mrs. Lloyd would rather have had him with her inside, but he pleaded so earnestly, and Mr. Miller assuring her that he was not the least trouble, she finally consented to his staying up until they changed horses again. Wlien they were changing horses at this post, Mr, Miller drew Bert's attention to a powerful black horse one of the men was carefully leading out of the stable. All the other horses came from their stalls fullv bar- uessed, but this one had on nothing except a bridle. "See how that horse carries on, Bert," said Mr. Miller. And, sure enough, the big brute was prancing about with ears bent back and teeth showing in a most threatening fashion. " They daren't harness that horse until he is in hi: place beside the pole, Bert. See, now, they're going to put the harness on him." And as he spoke another stable hand came up, deftly threw the heavy harness over the horse's back, and set to work to buckle it with a speed that showed it was a job he did not care to dally over. No sooner was it ac . mplished than the other horses were hastily put in their places, the black wheeler in the mean- time tramping upon the barn floor in a .seeming frenzy of impatience, although his head was tightly held. "Now, then, all aboard as quick as you can,"' shouted Jack Davis, swinging himself into his seat. Mr. Miller handed up Bert and followed himself, tli lilll 11 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. side passengers scrambled hurriedly in, and then uli a sharp whinny the black wheeler, his head iinf released, started off, almost pulling the wiiole 1(1 liiniself. [*• Black llory does not seem to get over his bad ihh^, Jack." remarked Mr. Miller. i" No," replied Jack ; "quite the other way. He's ^tiiug worse, if anything; but he's too good a horse chuck over. There's not a better wheeler on the [ute than Rory, once he settles down to his work.'' After going a couple of miles, during which Rory ^haved about as badly as a wheeler could, he did "le down quietly to his work and all went smoothly. IIkv were among the hills now, and the steep ascents 1(1 descents, sharp turns and many bridges over the lilies made it necessary for Davis to drive with the tinost care. At lenoth thev reached the summit of ie long slope and began the descent into the valley. ''I'd just as soon I hadn't any doubts about this rake," said Davis to Mr. Miller, as he put his foot ml down upon it. "Oh, it'll hold all right enough, Jack," replied [r. Miller, reassuringly. " Hope so," said Davis. " If it doesn't, we'll have run for it to the bottom." The road slanted steadily downward, and with rake held hard and wheelers spread out from the hi holding back with ail their strength, the heavy )ach lumbered cautiously down. Now it was that c 34 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. Black Rory proved his worth, for, thoroughly under- standing what was needed of ijiin, he threw his whole weight and strength back upon the pole, keeping his own mate no less than the leaders in check. "We'll be at Brown's Gully in a couple of min- utes," said the driver. " Once we get past there, all right; the rest won't matter." Brown's Gully was the ugliest bit of road on the whole route. A steep hill, along the side of which the road wound at a sharp slant, led down to a deep. dark gully crossed by a high trestle bridge. Jusi before the bridge there was a sudden turn which required no common skill to safely round when going at speed. As they reached the beginning of the slant, Jack Davis' face took on an anxious look, his mouth be-i| came firm and set, his hand tightened upon the reill^ 1 and his foot upon the brake, and with constant ex-| clamation to his horses of " Easy, now ! — go easy I— hold back, my beauties!" he guided the great coaclii in its descent. - Mr. Miller put Bert between his knees, saying : "Stick right there, my boy; don't budge am inch." - " • ' Although the wheelers, and particularly Black Rorv, were doing their best, the coach began to go faster! than Davis liked, and with a shout of "Whoa there I Go ea»sy, will you ! " he had just shoved his foot still harder against the brake, when there was a sharp crack, a upon til " (mh ^\'e^'e '' You had better not make fun of those boys, Bert," said she, with a curious smile. *' Tiiey may look as though they were poor, but remember that their fathers have all of rhem their own carriage and horses, and vour father has not." Bert saw the point at once, and never again ven- tured to ridicule boys who were the sons of "real carriage folk." Not only so, but he began at once to feel a respect for them, which wrought such a change in his bearing: toward tliem, that they, wlio were not at all favorably impressed at first, changed their minds and decided that he was a " right smart little fellow." It was while playing "hide and seek" in the big barn, with half-a-dozen of these youngsters, that Bert had a narrow escape from serious injury, if not, in- deed, from death. The great, gaping mows were being filled with hay, which was pitched in any way, and not, of course, packed firmly. Consequently, it iliiil ; mm BERT LLOYD S BOYHOOD. 49 was in some places like snow upon the Alpine slopes — iv:uiy to full in an avalanche, at the slightest tempta- tion. In endeavoring to reach a far corner of the barn, wiiere he felt sure no one could possibly find him, r ' tried to cross a hill of hay, that had piled up in . division of the mow. His hastv movements were just what was needed to bring the whole mass toppling down in confusion to the bottom of the mow. Un- fortunately for him, he was involved in the over- throw, and without a moment's warning was buried beneath a hui^e mass of hav. As he went slidinor helplessly down, he uttered a cry of terror, which startled little Rory Chi.sholm, who sprang out from his hiding place, just in time to see poor Bert disappear. ''Hi! Hi! bovs — come here: Bert Llovd's under the iiay." The boys quickly githered, and with eager hands set to work, to rescue their imperiled playmate. But, vigorously though they toiled, it was slow prog- ress they made ; and in the mean time the little fellow, pressed upon by many hundred weight of hay, was liist loosing breath and consciousness. He could hear them verv indistinctlv, but could not make a sound himself. . By a fortunate accident, one of tlie men happened aloiiL'', just as the boys were near giving up the task as too great for them. " Donald ! Donald ! Quick ! Bert Lloyd's under II ' '" 50 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. the hay. Dig him out, or he'll die, " cried Rory, at the top of bis voice. Seizing a pitchfork, Donald attacked the hay like a giant, getting more and more careful as he drew near the bottom of the mow, until at last, with a shout of "I've got him," he stooped down, and dras:2:ed the senseless form of Bert from the verv hot- torn of the pile. Taking him in his arms, he ran with him to the house, and gave Aunt Sarah a great fright, by suddenly plumping him into her lap, as she sat on the veranda reading, saying, breathlessly : " Here, miss, bring him to, and he'll be none the worse for it." Aunt Sarah screamed for hartshorne, spirits of wine, and the dear knows what, but Mrs. Lloyd, bringing a glass of water, dashed it freely over iier boy's pale face, and in a minute or two he opened liis eyes again. As Donald said, he was none the worse for his experience, for no bones were broken, nor muscles strained ; yet all felt thankful that he liad escaped so well. It was not long after this that Bert had another adventure, which also came near costing him his life. He was not only very fond of water, but as fearless about it as a Newfoundland puppy. The blue sea, calm as a mirror or flecked with "white caps," formed part of his earliest recollections. He would play at its margin all day long, building forts out of saud, for the advancing billows of the tide to storm and ov€ jjlidiiiii: ' thing in night, aii iiig in t great sal looked at k'.'sly at thought made to j)eare(i, ti ten times One da the (lay at edly warn ])arry shoi assented, i was rii(lv's metrical version of the Psalms. Verv weird and .sorrowful were many of the tunes. None were bright and inspiring like those Bert was wont to hear at iiomo, and as choir and congregation vied with one anotlicr in the vigor of their singing, the little fellow was sometimes half-frightened at the bewildering noise they made. A saintlier pastor than the Reverend Mr. Good- man, D. D., few congregations possessed ; but only tiiose members of his audience who were of like aije with himself thought him a good preacher. He had, indeed, some gifts in expounding the Bible, and even Bert would be interested if the lesson happened to be one of those stirrino: stories from the Old Testament which seem so full of life and truth. But when it came to preaching a sermon — well, it must be confessed tiiere were then few dryer preachers throughout the whole Province of Acadia. Bending low over his manuscript, for his eyesight was poor, and lifting his liead only now and then to wipe his brow, or relieve liis throat, with a dry, hard cough, Mr. Goodman, pnrsued his wav steadilv and raonotonouslv from " firstly " to " lastly " every Sunday. 58 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. I!il I lif IFW'«* And not only once, but twice on every Sunday. For be it understood, that although many of tlie con- gregation lived too fur away from the church to make two trips to it from their homes, they were not thereby going to be deprived of two services. Accordingly, after the morning service — which usually lasted until one o'clock — was over, a recess of one hour for liuicli and fresh air followed, and at two o'clock, a second service, precisely similar in character, was entered upon, which occupied two hours more. And then, having thus laid in a supply of sound theology for the rest of the week, the good people of Calvin church, after indulging in a little liarmless, gossiping at the church door, — of which indulcrence, bv the wav, 'Squire Stewart strongly disapproved, and would have prohibited, had he been able, — harnessed up their liorses and drove awav home. Four hours of church service of so unattractive a character, and that in mid-summer ! Poor little Bert! He did not want to shock his grandfather, or bring his mother's discipline into condemnation ; but really, how could he be all that the 'squire, who, if he ever had been a boy himself, must have quite forgotten about it, expected him to be? If he went to sleep. Aunt Sarah or Aunt Martha, in obedience to signals from grandfather, shook or pinched him awake again. If he staved awake, he felt that he must wriy:f!;le or die. Sometimes the temptation to scream out loud was so strong, that it seemed little short of a miracle BERT Lloyd's boyhood. he (11(1 not yield to it. Mrs. Lloyd fully sympatliizcd with Iiei' son's troubles, but accustomed from infancy to obey her fatlier unquestiouingly, she would not venture to do more tlian softly plead for Bert, now and then, wlien he was more restless than usual. Her nloadiiigs were not altogether vain, and frequently thcv iiad the result of securing for Bert a boon that lie higidy appreciated. 'S(jnii(?Stewart was bothered by a troublesome chronic cough, lie did not mind it very much when at home, but at church he felt it to be a nuisance, both to him- self and bis neighbors. To ease it somewhat, he always carried to church with him a number of black- currant lozenges, a supply of which he kept in his big iiiahoiranv desk at home. Occasionailv, either as en- cuuragenient to him to try and be a better boy, or as a token of relenting for being over severe, lie would pass Bert one of tiiese lozenges, and Bert thought tlieni the most delicious and desirable sweetmeat ever invented. Not tliat thev were reallv anvtliing wonder- ful, tliough they were very expensive ; but the circum- stances under which he received them gave them a peculiar relish : and it was in regard to them that Bei fo TJit and won the sharpest battle with the I : of all hi early boyhood. It happened in this A^ ah'f idy mentioned, 'Squire Stewart kept a supply of these lozenges in his h\nt. Finally he stopped altogether. " See here, Bert ; I guess we're on the wrong track," said he, coolly. " I've missed the tree somehow, and it's getting late, so we'd better make for home. AVVll liave a try some other day." BERT LLOYD S BOYHOOD. 71 Poor little Bert, by this time thoroughly wenry, was only too glad to turn homeward, and the relief at (loi'"r this gave hiiu new strength for a while. But it did not last very long, and soon, footsore and ex- hausted, he dropped down upon a bank of moss, and bur.st into tears. "Oh, Charlie, I wish we were home," he sobbed. "I'm so t'red, and hungry, too." Charlie did not know just what to do. It was iretiing on toward sundown; he had quite lost his wav, and might be a good while finding it again, and he felt pretty well tired himself. But he put on a brave face and tried to be very cheerful, as he said: '•Don't cry, Bert. Cheer up, my boy, and we'll soon get home." It was all very well to say "cheer up," but it was another thing to do it. As for getting home soon, if there were no other way for Bert to get home than bv walkini; the whole wav, there was little chance of his sleeping in his own bed that night. How thoroughly miserable he did feel ! His con- science, his legs, and his stomach were all paining him at once. He binerly repented of his disobedience, and vowed he would never err in tiie same wav atrain. But that, while it vas all very right and proper, did not help him homeward. At length Charlie grew desperate. He had no idea of spending the night in die woods if he could possibly help it, so he proposed a plan to Bei-t : 72 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. "See liere, Bert," said he, "you're too played out to walk anv more. Now, I'll tell vou what I'll do. I'll run home as fast as I can, and saddle the old mare and bring her here, and then we'll ride back again together. Wlnt do you say ?" "Oil, don't leave me here ale oe?" pleaded Bert. "I'll be awfully fricrhtened." "Chut! Bert. Tiiere's nothinsr to friditen vou but some old crows. Stay just where you are, and I'll be back inside of an hour." And without wait- ing to argue the point, Ciiarlie dashed off into ilie woods in the direction he thought nearest home; while Bert, after crying out in vain for him to come back, buried his face in the moss and gave himself lip to tears. One hour, two hours, three hours passed, and still Bert was alone. The sun had set, the trloaminsi: well- nigh passed, and the shadows of night drew near. All kinds of queer ,ioises fell upon his ear, filling him with acute terror. He dared not move from the spot upon wliich Charlie had left him, but sat there, crouched up close against a tree, trembling with fear in every nerve. At intervals he would break out into vehement crying, and then he M'ould be silent again. Presently the darkness enveloped him, and still no succor came. Meantime, there had ^een much anxiety at Maple- bank. On Bert's being missed, diligent inquiry was made as to his whereabouts, and at length, atter much BERT LLOYDS BOi'HOOD. 73 qiieslioning, some one was found who had seen him in company witli Charlie Ciiisholm, going up through the hill pastiu'e toward the woods. When Mrs. Llovd heard wiio his companion was, lier anxiety in- creased, for siie well knew M'hat a recikless, adventur- ous little fell' Charlie was, and she determined that eearch sl^idd be made for the boys at once. But in this she was delaved bv Uncle Alec and the men beiiK' off at a distant' and not returning until supper time. So soon as they did get back, ami heard of Bert's disappearance, they swallowed their sup])er, and all started w i;li nit delay to hunt him up. The dusk hu^ / M Jm s '/ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 82 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. " Is my boy Bert afraid of little girls ? " Bert's face fluslied till it was crimsou, aud dropping his head upon his breast, he muttered : " I'm not afraid of them, but I don't like 'era, and I don't want to go to school with 'em." The fact of the matter was that Bert not only had his full share of the repugnance to tlie other sex com- mon tc all boys of his age, but he had besides a strong notion tliat it was not a manly thing to go to : 'hoo\ with girls, and if there Was one thing more than an- other that he aspired after, it was manliness. Mr. Lloyd thoroughly understood his son's feelings, and felt disposed to humor them. Accordingly, lifting up his head, he gave him a kiss on the forehead, saying: " Very well, Bert ; we'll see about it. Since you have such decided objections to Miss Goggles' — I beg her ])ardon. Miss Poster's — excellent establishment, I will make inquiry, and see if I cannot find something that will suit you better. I want you to like your school, and to take an interest in it." Bert's face fairly beamed at these words, ami he heaved a huge sigh of relief which brought another smile out on his father's countenance. "You're such a good father," said Bert, hugging his knees, and there the matter dropped for a few days. When it came up again, Mr. Lloyd had a new propo- sition to make. In the interval he had been making some inquiries, and had been recommended to send his boy to a school just lately established by an accom- BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 83 plished young lawyer, who had adopted that method ofeariiinu: an honest penny while waitiiiu^ for his pmc- iKv It) Uc'onie more lucrative. It was a gotnl deal ui an expeiinieut, Mr. Lloyd thought, but fv^.^jihly worth trvinsr. Accordingly, one fine morning in October, b<^hold Masicr Bci't in a rather perturbed frame of mind t.otting along beside his father, who pretended not to he aware of his son's feelings, although at the same time .seekinijr in everv wav to divert him. But it was not witli much success. Bert felt thoroughly nervous over tiio new experience that awaited him. He had never .seen Mr. Garrison, who was to be his teacher, and imagined him as a tall, thin man with a long beard, a stern face, a harsh voice, and an ever-ready "cat-o'-nine tails." As for his future schoolmates, thev were no doubt a lot of rough, noisy chaps, that would be certain to " put him through a course of sprouts" before they would make friends with him. If, then, such thoughts as these filled Bert's mind, it must not l)e wondered at that he lagged a good deal 1)1 »th as to his talking and walking, although he waa always spry enough with both when out with his father. Much sooner than he wished thev reached the huilding, a large rambling stone structure, only one rouiu of which was occupied by the school ; they clirbed the broad free-stoue staircase to the upper story, knocked at a door from behind which came a coufused hum of voices, and being bidden " Come in," 1" 84 BERT LLOYD 8 BOYHOOD. entered a big room that at first seemed to Bert to be completely filled by a misty sea of faces with every eye turned right upon him. He cowered before this curious scrutiny, and but for his father's restraining grasp would probably have attempted a wild dash for the still unclosed door, when he heard his father saying: "Good-morning, Mr. Garrison ; I have brought my boy to place him in your care for a wiiile, if you will have him as a pupil." Looking up, Bert beheld a person approaching very different from the selioul- master of his gloomy anticipations. Mr. Garrison was indeed tall, but there the siiui- laritv ended. He was vouthful, sli":ht, and verv at- tractive in appearance, his manner being exceedingly graceful and easy, as he came forward with a winning smile upon his countenance, and extending his right hand to Mr. Lloyd, placed the other upon Bert's shoulder, and said, in a mellow, pleasant voice : " Good-morning, Mr. liloyd. I shall be very glad indeed to have your boy in my shool, and if lie is anything like as good a man as his father, he will make one of my very best pupils." Mr. Llovd laughed heartilv at this flattering re- mark. " Listen to that, Bert," said he. " When you are in any doubt just how to behave, you have only to ask vourself what I would do under the same circura- stances, and act accordingly." Then, turning to Mr. BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 85 U Garrison, he said : " Perhaps you would like me to join your school, too, so as to set a good example to tlie other boys." " Riglit glad would I be to have you, Mr. Lloyd," answered Mr. Garrison, with a cordial smile. " Many a time I find ray boys almost too much for one man to handle." Bert, clinging fast to his father's hand, and half- hoping he was in earnest, felt a pang of disappoint- ment when he replietiu!is as to what he knew showed that his proper })lace was in the junior class of all, and there accord- ingly ^Iv. Garrison led him. A vacancy was found for him in a long range of seats, extending from the door almost up to the desk, and he was bidden sit down beside a boy who had been eying him with lively curiosity, from the moment of his entrance into 86 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. i f 1 [ ■ 'il % ;! j '"■" ','■■ ■ ■ if tl>e room. So soon as Mr. Garrison went away, this boy opened fire upon tl»e new comer. " Say, sonny, what's yer name?" he asked, with unliesitating abruptness. Bert looked the questioner all over before replyiiiir. He was a short, stout, stubble-haired chap, evidently a year or two older than himself, with a broad, good- humored face, and the inspection being, upon tlie whole, satisfactory, Bert replied, very pleasantly: "Bert Llovd — and what's vours?" Ignoring the question put to him, the other boy gave a sort of grunt that might be taken as an ex- pression of approval of his new schoolmate's nam?, and then said : "Guess von don't live down our w; v ; never seen you before, that I know of." "I live in Fort Street. Where do vou live?" re- plied Bert, giving question for question. " I'm a Westender," said the other, meaning that his home was in tlie western part of the city. "But what's your name?" asked Bert again. " Oh, my name's Frank Bowser," was the careless reply. " But everybody calls me ^ Shorty,' and you may as well, too." "All right," said Bert. And the two began to feel quite good friends at once. As the morning passed, and Bert came to feel more at home, he took in the details of his surroundings. Mr. Garrispn's school consisted of some fifty boys, BERT LLOYD 8 BOYHOOD. 87 ranging in age from sixteen downward, Bert being about ihe youngest of tliera all. They all belonged to tlie better class, and were, upon the whole, a very pre- sentable lot of pupils. Scanning their countenances ouriou.rly as they sat at their desks or stood up in rows 1)0 fore the teacher to recite, Bert noticed more than ono face that he instinctively liked, and, being charmed '.vith Mr. Garrison, and well-pleased with his new friend "Siiorty," his first impressions were decidedly favorable. He had, of course, nothing to do that morning, save to look about him, but Mr. Garrison gave him a list of books to be procured, and lessons to be learned in tlieni before the school broke up for the day; and with this in his pocket he went home in excellent spirits, to tell them all there how well he had got on his first day in school. ^ I I ^11 CHAPTER XI. SCHOOL LIFE AT MR. GARRISON *S. BERT had not been long at Mr. Garrison's school, before he discovered tliat it was conducted on what might fairly be described as "go-as-you plea-e" principles. A sad lack of system was its chief char- acteristic. He meant well enough by his pupils, ami was constantly makiug spurts in the direction of reform and improvement, but as often falling back into the old irregular ways. The fact of the matter was that he not onlv was not a schoolmaster by instinct, but he had no intention of being one by profession. He had simply adopitd teaciiing as a temporary expedient to tide over a financial emergency, and intended to drop it so soon as his object was accomplished. His heart was in his profession, not in his school, and the woriv of teaching was at best an irksome task, to be gotten through with each day as quickly as possible. Had Mr. Llovd fullv understood this, he would never have placed Bert there. But he did not; and, moreover, he was interested in young Mr. Garrison, who had had many difficulties to encounter in making his way, and he wished to help him. In the first place, Mr. Garrison kept no record of 88 ri BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 89 attendance, either of tlie whole school, or of the clitTerftDt classes into which it was divided. A boy might come in an hour after the proi)er time, or be awav for a whole dav without either his lateness or his absence being observed. As a consequence " meeching" — that is, taking a holiday without leave frcni either parent? or teaciier — was shamefully common. Indeed, there was hardly a day that one or more boys did not *' nieeclj." U by any chance they were missed, it was easy to get out of the difficulty by making some excuse about having been sick, or mother having kept them at home to do some work, and so forth. Schoolboys are always fertile in excuses, and, only too often, indifferent as to the quantity of truth these may contain. Another curious feature of Mr. Garrison's system, or ratlier lack of system, was that he kept no record of the order of standing in the classes ; and so, when the class in geography, for instance, was called to recite, tlie boys would come tumbling pell-mell out of their seats, and crowd tumultuously to the space in front of the desk, with the invariable result that the smaller boys would be sent to the bottom of the class, wliether they deserved to be tliere or not. Then, as to the iiearing of the lesson, there was absolutely no rnle about it. Sometimes the questions would be divided impartially among the whole ciass. Some- times they would all be asked of a single boy, and if he happened to answer correctly, — which, however, 90 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. was an extremely rare occurrence, — the class would be dismissed without one of the others being questioned. Another peculiarity of Mr. Garrison's was hii^ going out on business for an hour or more at a time, and leaving tlie school in charge of one of the older boys, who would exercise the authority thus conferred upon him in a lax and kindly, or severe and cruel manner, according to his disposition. One of the boys gener- ally chosen for this duty was a big, good-hearted fellow named Munro; another was an equally big, but sour-dispositioned chap named Siteman; and whenever Mr. Garrison showed signs of going out, there was always intense excitement among the boys, to see who would be appointed monitor, and lively satisfaction, or deep disappointment, according to the choice made. It was a little while, of course, before Bert found all this out, and in the mean time he made good head- way in the school, because his fatlier took care that his lessons were well learned every evening before he went to bed ; and Mr. Garrison soon discovered that whoever else might fail, there was one boy in Bert's classes that could be depended upon for a right an- swer, and that was Bert himself. There was another person who noticed Bert's ready accuracy, and that was " Shorty " Bowser. " Say, Bert," said he one day, " how is it that you always have your lessons down so fine ? You never seem to trip up at all.'' BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 91 " Because father always sees that I learn *em," an- swered Bert. " If I don't learn 'em in the evening, I've got to do it before breakfast in the morning." " I wish ny dad 'ud do as much for me ; but he don't seem to care a cent whether I ever learn 'em or not," said poor Shorty, ruefully. For he was pretty sure to miss two out of every three questions a-sked him, and Mr. Qarrison thought him one of his worst seholars. " Won't your mother help you, then ? " asked Bert, with interest. "Got no mother," was the reply, while Shorty's ejes shone suspiciously. "Mother's been dead this good while." " Oh, I'm so sorry," said Bert, in tones of genuine sympathy that went right to Frank Bowser's heart, and greatly strengthened the liking he had felt from the first for his new schoolmate. It was not long before he gave proof of what he thought of Bert in a very practical way. They were for the most part in the same classes, and it soon be- came evident that Shorty felt very proud of his friend's accuracy at recitation. That he should re- main at the foot while Bert worked his way up steadily toward tlie head of the class, did not arouse the slightest feeling of jealousy in his honest heart ; but, on the contrary, a frank admiration that did him in- finite credit. But it was just the other way with Bob Brandon, m m 92 BERT LLOYD'd BOYHOOD. an overgrown, lanky boy, who Hcemed to have taken a dislike to Bert from the first, and seized every opportunity of acting disagreeably toward him. Being so much smaller, Bert had to endure his slights as best he could, but he found it very hard, and par- ticularly so that Bob should prevent him from getting his proper place in his class. Again and again would Bert pass Bob, who, indeed, rarely knew his lessons; but so sure as the class reassembled, Bob would roughly shoulder his way toward the top and Bert would have to take a lower position, unless Mr. Grarrison happened to notice what was taking place and read- justed matters, which, however, did not often occur. This sort of thing had been going on for some time, until at last one day Bert felt so badly over it that when he went back to his seat he buried his head in his hands and burst out crying, much to the surprise of Shorty, who at once leaned over and asked, with much concern : " What's the matter, Bert ? Missed your lesson ? " Bert checked his tears and told his trouble. " Sho ! that's what's the matter, hey ? I guess I'll fix Bob as sure as my name's Bowser." "What'll you do?" asked Bert. "Tell the mas- ter?" "No, sir. No tattling for me," replied Shorty, vigorously. " I'll just punch his head for him, see if I don't" And he was as good as his word. Immediately BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 98 ' IIP i<;' 1 aflcr the dismissal of the school, while the boys still li uttered on the playground, Shorty stalked up to Bob liruiidon, and told him if he didn't stop shoving Bert Lloyd out of his proper place in the classes he would ))iinch his head. Whereat Bob Brandon laughed contemptuously, and was rewarded with a blow on the face that fairly made him stagger. Then, of course, there was a fight, the boys forraii-! a ring aruuud the combatants, and Bert holding 1113 cham- pion's coat and hat, and hardly knowi '.^ whether ♦. j cry or to '^heer. The fight did not last Ion,. . Bob was tlie taller, but Frank the stouter o( the two. ji /b, like most bullies, was a coward, but Frpik was tLs plucky as he was strong. Burning with righteous wrath, Frank went at his opponent hammer and tongs, and after a few minutes ineffective parrying and dodg- ing, the latter actually ran out of the ring, thorougldy beaten, leaving Frank in possession of the fiehl, to receive the applause of his com|)anions, and particu- larly of Bert, who gave him a warm hug, sa^nng, gratefully : " Dear, good Shorty. I'm so glad you beat him." That fight united the two boys in firmer bonds of friendship than ever, especially as it proved quite effective so far as Bob Brandon was concerned, as he needed no other lesson. It was curious how Bert and Frank reacted upon one another. At first the influence proceeded mainly from Bert to Frank, the latter being much impressed by his friend's attention rh ^•i:i\ I m Wpiillll! I 94 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. to his lessons and good behavior m school, and some- what stirred up to emulate these virtues. But after Bert liad been going to the school for some little time, and the novelty had all worn oflf, he began to lose some of his ardor and to imitate Frank's happy-go- lucky carelessness. Instead of being one of the first boys in the school of a morning, he would linger and loiter on the playground until he would be among those who were tlie last to take their places. He also began to take less interest in his lessons, and in his stand- ing in the classes, and but for the care exercised at home would have gone to school very ill prepared. Frank Bowser was not bv anv means a bad bov. He had been carelessly brought up, and was by nature of rather a reckless disposition, but he generally pre- ferred right to wrong, and could, upon the Mhole, be trusted to behave iiimself under ordinary circum- stances, at all events. His influence upon Bert, wiiile it certainly weald not lielp him much, would not lianu him seriously. He did get him into trouble one day, however, in a wav that Bert was lontr in forirettinir. The winter had come, and over in one corner of the playground was a slide of unusual length and excellence, upon which the Garrison boys had fine times every day before and after school. Comincr up one morning early, ou purpose to enjoy this slide, Bert was greatly disnppointed to find it in possession of a crowd of gamius from the upper streets, who clearly intended to keep it all to themselves so long BERT Lloyd's -boyhood. 95 as they pleased. Wliile Bert, standiug at a safe dis- tauce, was watching tlie usurpers with longing eyes, Shorty came up, and, taking in the situation, said : •'Let 'era alone, Bert; I know of another slide just as 'good, a couple of squares oflf. Let's go over tliere." '' But, isn't it most school time ? '^ objected Bert. " Why, no," replied Shorty. " There's ten minutes yet. Come along." And thus assured, Bert com- plied. Tlie slide was' farther away than Shorty had said, but proved to be very good when they did reach it, and they enjoyed it so much that the time slipped away uniieeded, until presently the town clock on the hill above them boomed out ten, in notes of solemn ■warning. " My sakes ! " exclaimed Bert, in alarm. " There's ten o'clock. What will we do ? " " Guess we'd better not go to school at all. Mr. Garrison will never miss us," suggested Shorty. '' Do you mean to meech?" asked Bert, with some indignation. . ' ''That's about it," was the reply. ^'What's the harm?" " Why, you know it ain't right ; I'm not going to do it, if you are." And Bert really meant what he said. But, as luck would have it, on their way back to the school what should they meet but that spectacle, 96 BEET LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. one of the most attractive of the winter siglits in the eyes of a Halifax schoolboy, a fireman's sleigh drive. Driving gayly along tlie street, between lines of spectators, came sleigh after sleigh, drawn by fonr, six, or even eight carefully-matched and brigiitly-decked horses, and filled to overflowing with the firemen and their fair friends, while bands of music played merry tunes, to which the horses seemed to step in time. Bert and Shorty had of course to stop and see tliis fine sight, and it chanced that when it was about one- half passed, one of the big eight-horse teams got tangled up with a passing sleigh, and a scene of con- fusion ensued that took a good while to set right. "When at length all was straightened out, and the pro- cession of sleighs had passed. Shorty asked a gentle- man to tell him the time. " Five minutes to eleven, my lad," was the startling reply. Shorty looked significantly at Bert. "Most too late now, don't you think ? " Bert hesitated. He shrank from the ordeal of en- tering tiie crowded schoolroom, and being detected and punished by Mr. Garrison, in the presence of all the others. Yet he felt that it would be better tt) do that than not go to school at all — in other words, meech. "Oh, come along, Bert," said Shorty; "old Garri- son can do without us to-day." Still Bert stood irresolute. BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. 97 " Let's go down and see the big steamer that came in last night," persisted Shorty, who was determined not to go to school, and to keep Bert from going, too. Yielding more to Shorty's influence than to the at- traction of the steamer, Bert gave way, and spent the rest of the morning playing about, until it was the usual time for going home. He said nothing at home about what he had done, and the next morning went back to school, hoping, uith all his heart, that his absence had not been noted, and that no questions would be asked. But it was not to be. Soon after the opening of the school, when all were assembled and quiet obtained, Mr. Garrison sent a thrill of expectation through the boys by calling out, in severe tones, while his face was clouded with ant anxious to go to Sunday-scrhool, Bert," wild lie. i sha'n't know anybody there but you, and it'll be awfully slow." "But you'll soon get to know plenty of people," urged Bert ; " and Mr. Silver is so nice." And so they argued, Frank holding back, partly because his shyness made him shrink from going into a strange place, and partly because, having been accus- tomed to spend his Sunday afternoons pretty much as he pleased, he did not like the idea of giving up his liberty. But Bert was too much in earnest to be put off. The suggestion of his father that he should try to do Frank some good had taken strong hold upon his mind, and he urged, and pleaded, and argued until, at last, Frank gave way, and promised to try tiie Sunday-school for a while, at any rate. Bert reported the decision at home with much pride and satisfaction. He had no doubt that when once Frank found out what a pleasant place the Sunday- school was, and how kind and nice Mr. Silver — his teacher there — was, he would want to go every Sunday. ■I . :.-=., J. f i 108 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. The Sunday-school of Calvary Baptist Church cer- tainly had about as pleasant and cheery quarters as could be desired. For one thing, it was not held in a damp, dark, unventilated basement as so many Suii- dav-schools are. And, oh, what a shame — what an extraordinary perversion of sense this condemning of the children to the cellars of the churches is! Just as though any- thing were good enough for them, when in them lies the hope of the church, and every possible means should be employed to twine their young affections about it ! But these words do not apply to the Calvarv Sundav-school, for it was not held in a dinjjv basement, but in a separate buildiug that united in itself nearly every go I quality such an edifice should possess. It was of ample size, full of light and air, had free exposure to the sunshine, and was so arranged that every convenience was offered for the work of the school. Around the central hall were arranged rooms for the Bible classes, the infant class, and the library, so planned that by throwing up slid- ing doors they became par. of the large room. Tiie walls were hung with pictures illustrating Bible scenes, and with mottoes founded upon Bible texts; and finally, the benches were of a special make that was particularly comfortable. All this was quite a revelation to Frank when, after some little coaxing, Bert brought him to the school. His conception of a Sunday-school was of going down BERT LLOYD*S BOYHOOD. 109 into a gloomy basement, and being lectured about the Bible by a severe old man with a long gray beard. Instead of that, he found himself in one of the briixhtest rooms he had ever seen, and receiving a cordial welcome from a handsome young gentleman, to whom Bert had just said : *'Tliis is my friend Frank, Mr. Silver. He's going to come to school with me after this." "Very glad indeed to have you, Frank," said Mr. Silver, giving him a warm grasp of the hand. "Sit right down with Bert, and make yourself at home." And Frank sat down, so surprised and pleased with evervthino; as to be half inclined to wonder if he was not dreaming. Then the fine singing, as the whole school, led by an organ and choir, burst forth into song, the bright pleasant remarks of the superintend- ent, Mr. Hamilton, Bert's ideal of a " Christian soldier," and the simple earnest prayer offered, — all iini)ressed Frank deeply. No less interesting did he find Mr. Silver's teaching of the lesson. Mr. Silver attached great importance to his work in the Sunday-school. Nothing was per- mitted to interfere with thorough preparation for it, and he always met his class brimful of information, iilu-tration, and application, bearing upon the passage appointed for the day. And not only so, but by shrewd questioning and personal appeal he sent the precious words home to his vonuir hearers and fixed them deep in their memories. He was a rare teacher m H\: 110 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. in many respects, and Bert was very fond of him. Frank did not fail to be attracted by hira. As he and Bert left the school together, Bert asived : " Well, Frank, how do you like my Sunday- school?" ** First rate," replied Frank, heartily. " Say, but isn't Mr. Silver nice? Seems as though I'd known him for ever so long instead "of just to-day." "Guess he is nice," said Bert. "He's just tlie best teacher in the school. You'll come everv Sundav now, won't you, Frank?" "I think so;" answered Frank; " I might just as well be going there as loafing about on Sunday after- noon doing nothing." Mr. Llovd was verv much pleased when he heard of Bert's success in getting Frank to the Sunday- school. He recognized in Bert many of those quali- ties which make a boy a leader among his compan- ions, and his desire was that his son's influence siiould always tell for that which was manly, pure, and up- right. To get him interested in • recruiting for the Sunday-school was a very good beginning in church work, and Mr. Lloyd felt tiiankful accordingly. Neither was he alone in feeling pleased and thank- ful. Mr. John Bowser, Frank's father, altliongli he showed great indifference to both the intellectual and moral welfare of his boy, was, nevertheless, not opposed to others taking an interest in him. He cared too little about either church or Sunday-school BERT Lloyd's boyhood. Ill to see tliat Frank was a regular attendant. But he was very willing that somebody else should take an interest in the matter. Moreover, he felt not a little complacency over the fact that his son was chosen as a companion by Lawyer Lloyd's son. Engrossed as he was in the making of money, a big, burly, gruff, uncultured contractor, he found time somehow to acquire a great respect for Mr. Lloyd. He tliought him rather too scrupulous and straight- forward a man to be his lawyer, but he admired him greatly, nevertheless; and, although he said nothing about it, secretly congratulated himself upon the way things were going. He had little idea that the circle of influence Bert had unconsciously started would come to include him before its force would be spent. CHAPTER XIII. BERT AT HOME. IT was an article of faith in the Lloyd family that there was not a house in Halifax having a pleas- anter situation than theirs, and they certainly had very good grounds for their belief. Something has already been told about its splendid view of the broad harbor, furrowed with white-capped waves, when of an afternoon, the breeze blew in smartly from the great ocean beyond; of its snug security from north- ern blasts; of the cosy nook it had to itself in a quiet street ; and of its ample exposure to the sunshine. But, perhaps, the chief charm of all was the old fort whose grass-grown casemates came so close to tiie foot of the garden, that ever since Bert was big enough to jump, he had cherished a wild ambition to leap from the top of the garden fence to the level top of the neai'est casemate. This old fort, with its hmg, obsolete, muzzle loading thirty-two pounders, was associated with Bert's ear- liest recollection. His nurse had carried him tliere to play about in the long, rank grass underneath the shade of the wide-spreading willows that crested the seaward slope before he was able to walk; and 112 ever 1 favori Tiu to iiii riages, would nient 1 He del' smooth in peer zles. J lie did J tlierebv He 'h children that hi., thought so she w a shad V quarter of tlie •'^oaietJii Bert, si ludicrous Protru and kick h^ that ^'011, \vhi sounds th le I TfM BERT LLOYDS BOi'HOOD. 113 ever since, summer and wiuter, he had fouud it his favorite playground. Tlie cannons were an unfailing source of delight to liim. Mounted high upon their cumbrous car- riages, with little pyramids of round iron balls that would never have any other use than that of orna- ment lying beside them, they made famous playthings. Ill; delighted in clambering up and sitting astride their smooth, round bodies as though they were horses; or in peering into the mysterious depths of their muz- zles. Indeed, once when he was about five years old he did more than peer in. He tried to crawl in, and thereby ran some risk of injury. lie had been playing ball with some of the soldier's cliildren, and seemed so engrossed in the amusement tliat his mother, who had taken him into the fort, thought he miirht verv well be left for a while, and so she went off some little distance to rest in quiet, in a shady corner. She had not been there more than a quarter of an hour, when she was startled by the cries (if the children, who seemed much alarmed over Himeiiiing; and hastening back to where she had left Bert, she beheld a sight that would have been most liulierous if it had not been so terrifying. Protruding from the mouth of one of the cannons, and kicking very vigorously, were two sturdy, mottled legs that she instantly recognized as belonging to her s=oii, while from the interior came strange muffled sounds that showed the poor little fellow was screaming ^r BJC<-i» 114 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. Iff' in dire aifright, as well he might in so distressing a situation. Too young to be of auv help, Bert's play- mates were gathered about him crying lustily, only one of them having had the sense to run off to the carpenter's shop near by to secure assistance. Mrs. Lloyd at once grasped Bert's feet and strove to pull him out, but found it no easy matter. In his efforts to free liimself, he had only stuck the more firmly, and was now too securelv fastened for Mrs. Llovd to extricate him. Fortunately, however, a big soldier came along at this juncture, and slipping both hands as far up on Bert's body as he could reacli, grasped him firmly, and with one strong, steady pull drew him out of the cannon. When he got him out, Bert presented so comical a spectacle that his stalwart rescuer had to lay him down and laugh, until the tears rolled down his cheeks. Mrs. Lloyd, too, relieved from all anxiety, and feeling a reaction from her first fright, could not help following his example. His face black with grime which was furrowed with tears, iiis hands even blacker, his nice clothes smutched and soiled, and in- deed his whole appearance suggested a little chimney- sweep that had forgotten to put on his working clothes before going to business. Bert certainly was enough to make even the gravest laugh. Beyond a bruise or two, he was, however, not a whit the worse for his curious experience, which had come about in this way : While they were placing him his xiety, il not with cveu id in- nney- lotlies lough not a h had Bert Lloyd's Boyhood. Page lU iwni? ^ 'II a BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. 115 with the ball, one of the children had, out of mischief, picked it u{> and tiirown it into tiie cannon, where it iiad stayed. Tliey tried to get it out by moans of sticks, but coukl not reach it. Tlieii Bert, always plucivV and enterprising to the verge of rashness, undertook to go after the ball himself. Tiie other boys at once joined forces to lift him up and push him into the dark cavern, and then alarmed by his cries and unavailing struggles to get out again, began to cry liieuiselves, and thus brought Mrs. Lloyd to the .st'cue. Mr. Lloyd was very much amused when he heard about Bert's adventure. '' You've beaten Shakespeare, Bert," said he, afior a iiearty laugh, as Mrs. Lloyd graphically described the occurrence. " For Shakespeare says a man does not M'ck the bubble reputation in the cannon's moutii, until he becomes a soldier, but you have found it, unlc-s I am much mistaken, before you have fairly bt'irun being a schoolboy." }■..,, ^ . Bert did not understand the reference to Shake- speare, but he did understand that his father was not displeased with him, and that was a much more ira- })()rtaut matter. The next Sunday afternoon, when they went for their accustomed stroll in the fort, Bert slu)\ved his father the big gun whose dark interior he luul attempted to explore. '■ Oh, but, father, wasn't I frightened when I got in there, and couldn't get out again ! " said he, earnestly, Hi iii 116 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. clasping his father's hand tightly, as the horror of the situation came back to him. "You were certainly in a tigiit place, little man," answered Mr. Lloyd, "and the next time your bull gets into one of the cannons you liad better a.sU one of the artillerymen to get it out for you. He will find it a much easier job than getting you out.'* Bert loved the old fort and its cannons none the less because of his adventure, and as he grew ohler he learned to drop down into it from the garden fence, and climb back again with the agility of a monkey. Tiie garden itself was not very extensive, but Bert took a great deal of pleasure in it, too, for lie was fond of flowers — what true boy, indeed, is not? — and it contained a large number within its narrow limits, there being no less than two score rose bushes of d liferent varieties, for instance. The roses were very plenteous and beautiful when in their prime, but at opposite corners of the little garden stood two trees tiiat had far more interest for Bert than all the rose trees j^ut together. These were two apple trees, planted, no one knew just how or when, which had been allowed to grow up at their own will, without ])runing or grafting, and, as a consequence, were never known to produce fruit that was worth eating. Every spring they put forth a brave show of pink and white blos- soms, as though this year, at all events, they were going to do themselves credit, and every autumn the result appeared in half a dozen hard, small, sour, BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 117 witlicreil-up apples that hardly deserved tiie name. And yet, although these trees showed no signs of re- pciitnnce and amendment, Bert, with the quenchless hopofuUiess of boyhood, never quite despaired of tiieir bringing forth an apple that he could eat with- out having his mouth drawn up into one tight pucker. Autumn after autumn he would watch the slowlv developing fruit, trusting for the best. It always abused his confidence, however, but it was a long time before he finally gave it up in despair. At one side of the garden stood a neat little barn that was also of special interest to Bert, for, besides the stall for the cow, there was another, still vacant, which Mr. Lloyd had promised should have a pony for its tenant so soon as Bert was old enough to be trusted with such a playmate. Hardly a day passed that Bert did not go into the stable and, standing by the little stall, wonder to himself how it would look with a pretty pony in it. Of course, he felt very impatient to have the pony, but Mr. Lloyd had his own ideas upon that point, and was not to be moved from them. He thought that when Bert was ten years old would be quite time enough, and so there was nothing to do but to wait, which Bert did, with as much fortitude as he could command. Whatever might be the weather outside, it seemed always warm and sunny indoors at Bert's home. The Lloyds lived in an atmosphere of love, both 118 BEUT LLOYDS BOYHOOD. Il •lil liuinan and divine. Thev loved one another doarlv, l)Ut tljoy loved God still more, and lived close to iiim. Religion was not so niueli expressed as implied in their life. It was not in the least obtrusive, yot one could never mistake their point of view. Next to its sincerity, the strongest characteristic of tlitir religion was its cheeriness. They saw no reason whv the children of the King should go mourning all their days; on the contrary, was it not rather their duty, as well as their privilege, to establish the joy of service? • Brought up amid such influences, Bert was, as a natural consequence, entirely free from those straiijjju misconceptions of the true character of religion which keep so many of the young out of the kingdom. lie saw nothing gloomy or repellent in religion. That lie should love and serve God seemed as natural to hi id as that he should love and serve his parents. Of their love and care he had a thousand tokens daily. Of the divine love and care he learned from them, and that they shouiii believe in it was all the reason he required for hi;; doing the same. He asked no further evidence. There were, of course, times when the spirit of evil stirred within him, and moved him to rebel against authority, and to wish, as he put it liimself one day when reminded of the text " Thou God seest nie," that " God would let him alone for a while, and not be always looking at him." But then he wasn't an ani^el, liappy iuiidnt of his His have b were a If ther Lluvd I his hoy of too I of iheii J) hoard, that vol self, anc One lyreat jjr never Ik That is, had mas ])i('tiire to spell all liis d years of older, he books, before Ik Just wh winged 1 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 119 aiii^f'l, by any nicnu.s, hut simply a hearty, healtliy, li;i))|)y hoy, witli a Tair share of temper, and as much i'uiiiluess for having his own way as the average boy of his age. Ills parents were very proud of him. They would iiave been queer parents if they were not. Yet they won; careful to diiiguise it from him as far as possible. If there was one thing more than another that Mr. LJDVtl disliked in children, and therefore dreaded for his boy, it was that forward, conscious air which comes of too much attention being paid them in the presence of their elders. "Little folks should be seen and not lieani," he would say kindly but firmly to Bert, when that young person was disposed to unduly assert him- self, and Bert rarelv failed to take the hint. One trait of Bert's nature which gave his father great gratification was his fondness for reading. He never had to be tauu;ht to read. He learned himself. That is, he was so eager to learn that so soon as he had mastered the alphabet, he was always taking his pieture books to his mother or sister, and getting them to spell the words for him. In this way he got over all Ills difficulties with surprising rapidity, and at five years of age could read quite easily. As he grew older, he showed rather an odd taste in his choice of books. One volume that he read from cover to cover before he was eieht vearsold was Lavard's" Nineveh." Just why this portly sombre-hued volume, with its winged lion stamped in gold upon its back, attracted 120 BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. I him so strongly, it would not be easy to say. Tlie illustrations, of course, had something to do with it, and theu the fascination of digging down deep into the earth and bringing forth all sorts of strange things no doubt influenced him. Another book that held a wonderful charm for iiini was the Book of Revelation. So carefully did he con this, which he thought the most glorious of all writings, that at one time he could recite many chapters of it word for word. Its marvelous imagery appeale loser Instantly the struggle and confasiou ceased, but not before Frank, in a passion of fury, had dealt Bert's cowardly assailant a blow that sent him reeling to the ground, and had theu sprung to his friend's side. "Get a doctor, some fellow," he shouted, holding lip the pale, calm face, down which the blood was trickling from an ugly wound. "Let's carry him iuto tlie school ! " A dozen eager volunteers came forward. Carefully and tenderly Bert was lifted up, and carried into the schoolroom, which, fortunately, Mr. Garrison had not yet left. Placed upon one of the benches, with Frank's coat for a pillow, his head was bathed with cold water, and presently he revived, much to the relief and delight of the anxious boys standing round. A few minutes later the doctor arrived. With quick, deft fingers he stanched the wound, covered it with plaster, enveloped it with bandages, and then gave directions that Bert should be sent home in a cab without delav. "Why, Bert darling, what does this mean?" ex- claimed Mrs. Lloyd, as she opened the door for hira. "Ask Frank, mother; ray head's aching too bad to tell you," replied Bert, putting up his hand with a gesture of pain. And so, while Bert lay on the sofa with his mother close beside him, and Mary preparing him a refreshing drink, Frank told the story in his own, rough, straightforward fashion, making it all 60 clear, with the help of a word now and theu from 123 K^nl BEKT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. Bert, that when he ended, Mrs. Lloyd, bending over her son, kissed hira tenderly on the forehead, sayinir: ** You know, Bert, how I dislike fighting, but I cannot find it in my heart to blame you this time. You acted like a hero." In this ophiion Mr. Lloyd, when he came home, fully concurred. He had not a word of blame for Bert, but made the boy's heart glad by telling him to always stand by his friends when they were in trouble, and then he would never be without friends who would stand bv him. Bert's wound took some time to heal, and when it did heal, a scar remained that kept its place for many years after. But he did not suffer for naught. The incident was productive of good in two directions. It established Bert's character for couraare bevoiid all cavil, and it put an end to the unseemly rows between the schools. The two masters held a consultation, as a result of which they announced to their schools that any boys found taking part in such disturbances in future would be first publiely whipped, and then expelled; and this threat put an effectual stop to the practice. The days and weeks slipped by, and the summer vacation, so eagerly looked forward to by all sciiool- bovs, arrived. None were more deliijhted at its arrival than Bert and Frank. Their friendship had grown steadily stronger from the day of their first acquaintance. They had few disagreements. Frank, BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 129 Its uul [fSt Ilk, altliougli the older and larger of the two, let Bert take tlie lead in almost all cases, for Bert had the more active mind, and his plans were generally the better. Happily for the serenity of their relations, Bert, while he was fond enough of being the leader, never undertook to " boss " his companions. If they (lid not readily fall into line with him, why he simply fell into line with them, and that was an end of it. His idea of fun did not consist in being an autocrat, aiui ordering others about. He very much preferred that all should work together for whatever common piir])ose happened to be in their minds at the time; and thus it was, that of the boys who played together ill the old fort, and waded in the shallow water that rippkd along the sand beach at its foot, no one was more popular than Bert Lloyd. They had ^ne fun during this summer vacation. Neither Frank nor Bert went out of the city, and they played together every day, generally in the fort; but sometimes Bert would go with Frank to the Horti- cultural Gardens, where a number of swings made a great attraction for the young folk, or down to the point where they would ramble through the woods, imagining themselves brave hunters in search of bears, and carrying bows and arrows to help out the illusion. The greatest enjoyment of all, however, was to go out upon the water. Of course, they were not allowed to do this by themselves. They were too young for that yet, but very often Mr. Lloyd would leave his m ^% I ■t ;! 130 BERT 1JX)YD's BOYHOOD. office early in tlie afternoon in order to take tlieni out in the pretty skiff he kept at the fort, or the wiiole family would spend the long summer evenings to- gether on the water. Bert was at his happiest then. Under his father's directions he was vigorously learning to row, ami it was very stimulating to have his 'mother and sister as spectators. They took such a lively interest in his progress, that he did not mind if they did laugh h iartily, but of course not unkindly, when sometimes in his eagerness to take an extra big stroke he would "catch a crab," and roll over on his back in the bot- tom of the boat, with his feet stuck up like two siguals of distress. Bert accomplished this a good many times, but it did not discourage him. He was up and at it asi;ain immediatelv. " Don't look at your oar, boys ! Don't look at your oar I Keep your faces toward the stern," Mr, Lloyd would call out as Bert and Frank tu<>:sj;ed awav man- fully, and they, who had been watching their oars to make sure that they went into the water just rigiit, would answer "Aye, aye, sir ! " in true sailor fashion ; and then for the next few moments they would keep their eyes fixed straight astern, only to bring them back again soon to those dripping blades that had such a saucy way of getting crooked unless they were well watched. A more delightful place than Halifax harbor of a fine summer evening could hardly be desired. The BERT LLOYD S BOYHOOD. 131 julit, jion ; kce|) hem had ^vc're lof a The wind, which hud been busy making *• white caps" all llu! afternoon, went to rest at sundown. The ruffled waters sank into a glassy ;;alni, the broad harbor be- coming one vast mirror in wliich the rich hues of tiie sunset, the long dark lines of the wharves, and the tall masts of the ships sleeping at their moorings were reflected with many a quaint curve and curious iuvo- Itition. Boats of every kind, the broad-bottomed (lory, the sharp-bowed flat, tl?e trim keel boat, the long low whaler, with their jolly companies, dotted the placid surface, while here and there a noisy steam iuuiich saucily puflfed its way along, the incessant throb of its engine giving warning of its approach. Far up tiie harbor at their moorings off the dockyard, the huge men-of-war formed centres around which the boats gathered in numerous squads, for every evening tliG hand would play on board these floating castles, aud tlie music never seemed more sweet than when it floated out over the still waters. Sometimes, too, after the hand had ceased, the sailors would gather on the forecastle and sing their songs, as only sailors can sing, wiiiniuir round after round of applause from their appreciative audience in the boats. All of this was very delightful to Bert. So, tuo, v/as the paddling about on the beach that fringed the bot- tom of the fort's grassy slope, and the making of minia- ture forts out of the w^arm, drv sand, onlv to have them dissolve asrain before the advancing tide. Just as de- lightful, too, was the clambering over the boulders that II 132 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. marked the ruins of an old pier, searching for peri- winkles, star-fish, and limpets, witii never-ceasing wonder at the tenacity with which they held c the rocks. Playing thus in the sunshine almost from dawn to dark, Bert grew visibly bigger and browner and sturdier, as tlie days slipped swiftly by. CHAPTER XV. A CHANGE OF SCIIOOIJ3. 117 ITH the coming of September the holidays ' * ended, and the question of schools once more was ojirnestly discussed in the Lloyd household. *^ I have quite made up my mind not to send Bert bjick to Mr. Garrison," said Mr. I^loyd. " He seems to 1)0 learning little or nothing there. The fact of the matter is, what he does learn, he learns at home, and Mv. Garrison simply hears him recite his lessons." *' That's very true," a.ssented Mrs, Lloyd. " I am i/ <^oo glad to help Bert all I can in his studies, but 1 do not see the propriety of our having the greater part of the work of teaching him ourselves when we are at the same time paying some one else to do it. Do you, Mary?" she added, turning to her daughter. '' No, mother," replied Mary. " I suppose it is not quite fair. Yet I would feel sorry if Bert went to a scliool where everything was done for him, and notli- inn; left for us to do. I like to help him. Pie gets lioUl of an idea so quickly ; it is a pleasure to explain anything to him." " It seems to me that a school where there is a ^n)o(l deal of healthful rivalry among the boys would be the best place for Bert. He is very ambitious, and 133 134 BERT LLOYDS BOYHOOD. eager to be at the top, and in a school of that kind liis energies would be constantly stimulated," bciid Mr. Lloyd. "What do you think, Kate?" addressing his wife. ' "I think that would be very good, indeed," an- swered Mrs. Lloyd. " But do you know of any such school?" " I have been hearing good accounts of Dr. John- ston's school, and he certainly seems to have a great deal of system iu his methods, so that I am inclined to give him a trial." " Oh, Dr. Johnston's is a splendid school," spoke up Mary, with enthusiasm. " Both of Edie Strong's brothers go there, and I have often heard them tell about it. But isn't Bert too young for it yet ? He's only nine, you know, and they are mostly big boys who go to Dr. Johnston's." " Not a bit !" said Mr. Lloyd, emphatically. "Not a bit ! True, Bert is only nine, but lie looks more like twelve, and thinks and acts like it, too. It will be all the better for him to be with boys a little older than himself. He will find it hard to hold his own among t^ m, and that will serve to strengthen and develop m." "Poor little chap!" said Mrs. Lloyd, tenderly. " I expect he will have a pretty hard time of it at first. I wish Frank were going with him, for he thinks all the world of Bert, and is so much older and bigger that he could be a sort of protector for him." BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 1.35 " I'm glad you mentioned Frank, Kate," exclaimed ^Ir. Lloyd. " You've given me an idea. If I decide to ^cnd Bert to Dr. Johnston's, I will make a point of seeing Mr. Bowser, to ask him if he will not consent to send Frank, too. I hardly expect he will make any objection, as it is not likely there will be any diiVerence in the expense." " Oh, I do hope Frank will go, too," cried Mary, clai^ping her hands. " If he does, I shall feel ever so much easier about Bert. Frank is so fond of him that lie won't let him be abused, if he can help it.'^ "Very well, then,'* said Mr. Lloyd, bringing the conversation to a close. " I will make some further iiKjuiries about Dr. Johnston's, and if the results are satisfactory I will see Mr. Bowser, and do what I can to pei-suade him to let Frank accompany Bert." A few days after, Mr. Lloyd called Bert to him, wliile they were all sitting in the parlor, just after dinner. " Come here. Bert," said he. " I want to have a talk with you about going to school. You know I don't intend you to go back to Mr. Garrison's. Now, where would you like to go yourself? " "Oh, I don't know, father," replied Bert. "I don't want to go to the Acadian or National School, anyway." " You need not feel troubled on that score. So far as I can learn, they are no hetter than the one you Lave been going to. But what do you think of Dr. =f4l| 136 BERT LLOYDS BOYHOOD. Johnston's school ? How would you like to becomo a pupil there ? " "Oh, father," exclaimed Bert, looking up, with a face expressive of both surprise and concern, " I'm not big enough for that school. They're all big boys that go there." " But you're a big boy, — for your age, at all events, — Bert," returned Mr. Lloyd, with a reassuring smile, " and you'll soon grow to be as big as any of them." " But, fatlier," objected Bert, " they're awfully rough there, and so hard on tlie new fellows. They always hoist them." "Hoist them?" inquired Mr. Lloyd. " What do you mean ? " Why, they hang them up on the fence, and then pound tiiem. It hurts awfully. Robbie Simpson told me about it. They hoisted him the first day." " Humph ! " said Mr. Lloyd. " I must say I don't like that, but at the worst I suppose you cnn survive it, just as the others have done. Is there any other reason why you wouldn't like to go to Dr. John- ston's?" "Well, father, you know he has a dreadful strap, most a yard long, and he gives the boys dreadful whippings with it." " Suppose he has, Bert ; does he whip the boys who know their lessons, and behave properly in school ? " asked Mr. Lloyd, with a quizzical glance at his son. Ill ;iii'i BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 137 10 J1 Bert laughed. " Of course not, father," said he. " He only whips the hoA boys." " Tlien why should his long strap be an objection, Bert ? You don't propose to be one of the bad boys, dovou?" " Of course not, father; but I might get a whipping, all the same." " We'll hope not, Bert ; we'll hope not. And now, look here. Would you like it any better going to Dr. JohiHtou's if Frank were to go with you?" " Oh, yes indeed, father," exclaimed Bert, his face lighting up. " If Frank goes too, I won't mind It j> " All right then, Bert ; I am glad to say that Frank is going, too. I went to see his father to-day, and he agreed to let hira go, so I suppose we may consider the matter settled, and next Monday you two boys will go with me to the school." And Mr. Lloyd, evi- dently well-pleased at having reconciled Bert to the idea of the new school, took up his paper, while Bert went over to his mother's side to have a talk with her ahout it. ]\rrs. Lloyd felt all a mother's anxiety regarding this new phase of life upon which her boy was about to enter. Dr. Johnston's was the largest and most re- nowned school in the citv. It was also in a certain sense the most aristocratic. Its master charged high rates, which only well-to-do people could afford, and as a consequence the sons of the wealthiest citizens at- ■ ^"mmmmm 138 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. tended his school. Because of this, it was what would be called select; and just in that very fact l;iv one of the dangers Mrs. Lloyd most dreaded, llicli men's sons may be select from a social point of view, but they are apt to be quite the reverse from the moral standpoint. Frank Bowser, with all his clum- siness and lack of good manners, would be a f:ii' safer companion than Dick Wilding, the graceful, easy- mannered heir of the prosperous bank president. On the other hand, the school was undoubtedly the best in the citv. A lono; line of masters had handed down from one to the other its fame as a home of the classics and mathematics with unimpaired lustre. At no other school could such excellent preparation for the university be obtained, and Bert in due time was to go to the university. Many a long and serious talk had Mr. and Mrs. Llovd over the matter. True, they had great confidence in their boy, and in the principles according to which they had sought to bring him up. But then he was their only boy, anil if their confidence should perchance be found to have been misplaced, how could the damage be repaired? Ah ! well, they could, after all, only do their best, and leave the issue with God. They could not always be Bert's shields. He must learn to fight his own battle?, and it was as well for him to begin now, and at Dr. Johnston's school. Bert himself took quite a serious view of tiie matter, too. He was a more than ordinarily thought- ful b( BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 139 ik1 ive d? 11(1 be ^^, iDr. fill boy, and the prospect of going to Dr. Joliustou's made his brain verv biisv. While the school was not witiiout its attractions for him, there were many reasons why he shrank from going to it. Tl»e most of the boys were, as he knew from often seeing theni when on his way to and from Mr. Garrison's, older and bigger than himself, and, still worse, they were strangers to him with one or two exceptions. Of course, since Frank was to go with him, he would not mind that so much, but it ccnnted for a good deal, notwithstanding. Then he had heard startling stories of Dr. John- ston's severity ; of his keeping boys in after school for a whole afternoon; of the tremendous whippings he gave with that terrible strap of his, the tails of which had, according to popular rumor, been first soaked in vinegar, and then studded with small shot; of the rigorous care with which the lessons were heard, everv boy in the class having to show that he was well pre- pared, or to take the consequences. These, and other stories which had reached Bert's ears, now perturbed hiin greatly. . At the same time, he had no idea of drawing back, and pleading with his father to send him somewhere else. He saw clearly enough that both his father and mother had quite made up their minds that it would be the best thing for him, and h( knew better than to trouble them with vain protests. He found his sister au inexpressible comfort at this time. He confided WT^"^^ 140 BERT LLOYD S BOYHOOD. in her unreservedly, and her sweet, serene, trustful way of looking at things cleared away many a diffi- culty for hira. It was easy to look at the bright .side of aiFairs with Mary as an adviser, and the more Bert talked with her, the more encouraged lie became. It was a happy coincidence, that on the Sunday })re- ceding Bert's entrance into Dr. Johnston's school, the lesson for the Sabbath-school should contain these ringing words: "Quit you like men; be strong." Mr. Silver had much to say about them to his class: " Only six simple words of one syllable each, boys," said he, as he gathered his scholars close about his chair, "but they mean a great deah And yet, we do not need to look into some wise old commentator to tell us just what they do mean, for we can all under- stand them ourselves. They are not intended solely for grown-up people, either. They are for boys just like you. Now, let us look into them a bit. 'Quit you like men.' What kind of men, Bert? Any kind at all, or some particular kind?" "Like good men, of course," replied Bert, promptly. "Yes, Bert, that's right. And what does it mean to quit yourself like a good man?" asked Mr. Silver, again. "To be always manly, and not be a baby," answered Walter Thomson, with a vigor that brought a smile to Mr. Silver's face. " Right you are, Walter ; but is that all ? " arr BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 141 "No," said Will Murray, "it means to do only wliat is right." ''Tliat's it, Will. To be always manly, and to do only what is right. Now, boys, do you know that vou are very apt to confuse these two things, and by forming mistaken notions as to what constitutes the first, vou fail to do the second? Manv bovs think iliat it is manly to swear, to use tobacco, to be out lute at night hanging round the street corners, and so they do all these things, although they are not right tilings to do. Have they the right ideas of manliness, boys?" "No, sir; no, sir," answered the thoroughly inter- ested class, in full chorus. "No, indeed, boys, they have not," continued Mr. Silver. "There is over a hundred times more manliness in refusing to form those bad habits than in yielding to them. And that is just the kind of manline.'« T want all the boys of my class to have. * Quit yoa like men,' boys, and then, * be strong.' What does that mean?" "To keep up your muscle," spoke out Frank, much to the surprise of everybody, for, although he listened attentively enough, he very rarely opened his mouth in the class. Mr. Silver smiled. It was not just the answer he wanted, but he would not discourage Frank by savini; so. , ' ■ • "That's part of the answer, but not quite the whole 142 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. of it," he said, after a pause. "It's a good thing for boys to keep up tiieir muscle. God wants what is best in this world, and we can often serve him with our muscle as well as with our minds. If Sunisou and Gideon and David had not been men of muscle, they could not have done such grand work for God as they did. I like to see a boy with legs and arms *as hard as nails,' as they say. But the words *be strong' here mean more than that, don't they, Bert?" "They mean to be strong in resisting temptation, don't they, Mr. Silver?" replied Bert. "Yes; that's just it. Quit you like men — be manly, and be strong to resist temptation. Now, boys, some people think that young chaps like you don't have many temptations. That you have to wait until you grow up for that. But it's a tremen- dous mistake, isn't it? You all have your tempta- tions, and lots of them, too. And they are not all alike, by any means, either. Every boy has his owu peculiar difficulties, and finds his own obstacles in the way of right doing. But the cure is the same in all cases. It is to be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. That is the best way of all in which to be strong, boys. When the Philistines were hard pressed by the Israelites, they said one to another, *Be strong and quit yourselves like men . . . quit yourselves like men, and fight.' And they fought so well that Israel was smitten before them, and the ark of God was taken. And so, boys, whenever, at home, BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 143 at school, or at play, you feel temptrd to do what is wrung, I ask you to reineinber tliese words, 'Quit voursclves like men, be strong, and figlit/ If you do, so sure as there is a God in heaveu who loves yuii all, you will come off conquerors." Mr. Silver's words made a deep impression upon Bert. Tlie great ambition of his boyish heart was to be esteemed manly. Nor was he entirely free from tlie mistaken notions about manliness to which his teacher had referred. He had more than once been sneered at, bv some of the bovs at Mr. Gar- rison's, for refusing to do what seemed to him wrong. They had called him "Softy," and hinted at his being tied to his mother's apron strings. Then, big, coarse Bob Brandon, always on the lookout to vent his spite, h:ui nicicnamed him "Sugarmouth" one day, because he had exolaimed to one of the boys who was pouring out oatiis : "Oh, Tom! How can you swear so? Don't you know how wicked it is to take God's name in vain?" Tliese and other incidents like them had troubled Bert a good deal. He dreaded being thought a "softy," and had even at times felt a kind of envy of tiie boys whose consciences did not trouble them if tliey swore, or indulged in sly smokes, or defiled their montlis with filthy quids. Mr. Silver's words now eame in good time to give a changed current to these llioiights. They presented to his mind a very differ- 144 BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. ent idea of manliness from the confused conception which had been his hitherto. " That's a good motto for a fellow, Shorty," said lie, as the two friends walked home together from tiie school. " Mother asked me the other day to take a text for a motto. I think I'll take * Quit you like men, be strong.' " " I think I will, too, Bert," said Frank. " It's uo harm if we have the same one, is it ? " " Why no, of course not," answered Bert. " We'll both have the same, and then we'll help one another all we can to do what it says." i CHAPTER XVI. THE FIRST DAYS AT DR. JOHNSTON'S. W] IT was a fine, bright September morning when Mr. Lloyd, witl) Bert on one side of him and Frank on the other — for Frank had come down, so that he inii^ht go with Bert — made his way to Dr. Johnston's school. The school occupied a historic old building, whose weather-beaten front faced one of the principal streets of the city. Tiiis building had in times long past been the abode of the governor of the province, and sadly as it had degenerated in appearance, it still rettiined a certain dignity, and air of faded grandeur, that strongly suggested its having once been applied to a more exalted use than the housing of a hundred boys for certain liours of the day. So spacious was it, that Dr. Jolinston found ample room for his family in one half, while the other half was devoted to the pur- poses of the school. At the rear, a cluster of shabby onihiiildings led to a long narrow yard where tufts of rank, coarse grass, and bunches of burdocks strnirgled hard to maintain their existence in spite of fearful odds. The boys' hearts were throbbing violently as Mr. Lloyd rang the bell. The door was opened readily by a boy, who was glad of the excuse to leave his seat, K 146 146 BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. ||i and he entered tlie sclioolroom, followed by liis charges. The room was long, narrow, and luw- ceilinged, and was divided into two unequal portions by a great chimney, on either side of wiiich a pasisatie had been left. At the farther end, occupying the central space between two windows, was the doctor's desk, or throne it might more properly be called ; for never did autocrat wield more unquestioned authority over his subjects than did Dr. Johnston over the liundred and odd scholars who composed his school. In front of hira, running down the centre of the room, and on either hand, following the walls, were long lines of desks, at which sat boys of all sorts, and of all ages, from ten to eighteen. As Mr. Lloyd entereii, those nearest the door looked up, and seeing the new comers, proceeded to stare at them with a frank curi- osity that made Bert feel as though he would like to hide in one of his father's coat-tail pockets. They turned away pretty quickly, however, when Dr. Johnston, leaving his desk, came down to meet Mr. Lloyd, and as he passed between the lines, every head was bent as busilv over the book or slate before it, as though its attention had never bee", lii. ed. Considering that Dr. Johnston " ilv a small, slight man, it was surprising wha idea of 8' iy dignity his appearance coiiveyed. Jle could hardly have impressed Bert with a deeper feelin^^ of respect from the outset, if he had been seven feet high, in- stead of only a little more than five. He was a BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. 147 ncet ery \)ve ed. A y i-dlv ipect i li- as a clers^yman of the Episcopal church, and wore at all times a long black goNvn, reaching nearly to his ankles, whicii set otf to the hest advantage tlie spare, .-traiirlit fiirnre, and strong dark iace. Tlie habitual expression of that face when in reapose was of tliotiirlitfnl severitv, and vet if one did but scan it closely enough, the stern mouth was seen to have a (lowinvard turn at its corners that hinted at a vein of liiunor lying hid somewhere. The hint was well- sustained, for underneath all his sternness and sever- ity the doctor concealed a playful humor, that at times came to the surface, and gn .efully relieved his ordinary grimness. As he walked down from his desk to meet Mr. Lloyd, he looked very pleasant indeed; and Bert felt his nervousness a little calmed as, holding out his thin, white and yet muscular hand, Dr. Johnston said, cordially : . ■ , ' / "Good-morning, Mr. Lloyd. I presume these are the two boys you spoke to me about." , . " They are, Dr. Johnston," Mr. Lloyd replied. "I brought them in good time so that they might learn as much as possible about the ways of the school the first dav." • " .' ''You did well, Mr. Lloyd. It is important to have a jrood beginning in everything that is worth doing," said the doctor; then, turning to Bert, he slipped his hand under his chin, and lifting his head so that he might look him full in the face, added, with a smile, m WKM 148 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. " I need 'nardlv ask which of these bovs is vours, fur this one betrays his paternity in every featnre." " You have liit the mark, doctor," said Mr. Lloyd, smiling in his turn. " This is my son Cuthbert, at your service, and this is Frank Bowser, his insepar- able companion." "Quite a case of Damon and Pythias, eh?" said the doctor, whose devotion to the classics was sucli that his one great regret was that he had not lived in the time of Horace. "Yes, fjomething of the kind," rejoined Mr. Lloyd; "and I would be very glad if you could manage to let them sit together so long as they behave them- selves." "We'll see, we'll see," was the doctor's non-com- mittal response. "Very well, then, doctor," said Mr. Lloyd, turning to leave. " I'll hand them over to you now. I am sure you will make the best of them, and that I iim leaving them in very good hands. Grod- bye, boys." And tiien, bending down, he whispered in Bert's ear, " Remember — quit you like ni».a — be strong," and then left them. As Mr. Lloyd disappeared through the door, the air of geniality the doctor had been wearing during the brief interview vanished from his countenance, and it relapsed into its wonted look of resigned severity. " Llovd and Bowser come with me to mv desk," said he, turning his back upon them, and walking BERT LLOYD^S BOYHOOD. 149 :s." ear, hen air tlie and ritv. ving down the room. The boys followed very meekly, and on arriving at the desk the doctor entered their names in a huge book that lay open before him, using an old- fa:;hioued quill pen that scratched so harshly as to send a shudder through Bert, who was very sensitive to such things. '• We will now see about seats for you both," con- tinued the doctor. Then, raising his voice, he called out, "Mr. Suelling, will you please come here," and from the far end of the room a respectful voice re- sponded *• Yes, sir." Looking in the direction whence the voice came, Bert saw au odd-looking man approaching, who, of course, was Mr. Suelling. He was of medium height, but quite as slight as the doctor himself Many years at the sclioolmaster's desk had given a stoop to his siioulders and a pallor to his face, that were in marked contrast to his chief's erect fiijure and swarthv couu- t(;i.ance. But if his face was pale, his hair made a brave attempt to atone for this lack of color, for it was the richest, most uncompromising red ; and as though lie delighted in its warm tints, Mr. Suelling allowed it to grow in uncropped abundance, and his favorite tresture was to thrust his fiufjers throuijrh its tanijled mass. Beneath a white and narrow forehead were two small sharp eyes, that peered out keenly through a pair of gold-bowed spectacles, and were ever on the wat(!h to detect the slightest misbehavior among the urchins gathered around him. U' : ""■ ■•11"' 11 Hi 150 BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. Bert's first impression of Mr. Snelling was not a favorable one, and as he stood by and heard Dr. Johnston say: "Mr. Snelling, here are two more pnpils. This is Lloyd, and this is Bowser. They will go into your room for the present. Will you please see that desks are assigned them?" — he thouirht to himself that in spite of the doctor's grim appear- ance he would rather stay in his room than be handed over to Mr. Snelling. • $" -' : - ' However, he was not to be consulted in the matter, so he followed in the wake of Mr. Snelling, who, by the way, it should be explained, was the assistant mas- ter, having special charge of all the younger scholars, and the drilling of them in the English branches of learninof. The classics and mathematics the doctor reserved for himself, and a better teacher of the former particularly there was not in all Halifax. Mr. Snelling's portion of the room differed from the doctor's onlv in that it was not so well-li<»;hted and the seats were not quite so comfortable. Tiie school being pretty full at the time, the securing of seats for the two new comers required some rearrang- ing, in the course of which changes had to be made that evidently did not by any means meet with the approbation of those who were immediately concerned; and Bert's spirits, already at a low ebb, were not much elevated bv sundrv scowling^ looks directed at him, and by one red-tiiced, irritable-looking chap seizing the opportunity when Mr. Suelling's back was turned, to BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 151 shake his fist at Bert and Frank, and mutter loudly enough for them to hear : "I'll punch the heads of you both at recess, see if I don't." At length, with some little diflBculty, Mr. Snelling got matters arranged, and the two boys were placed in the farthest corner of the room, and, to their pro- found delight, side by side. Their accommodations were the reverse of luxurious. A wooden bench, destitute of back, and shiny from the friction of dear knows how many restless sitters ; a sloping desk, cut and carved by careless knives, and having underneath an open shelf upou which the books, slate, cap, and lunch might be put — that was the sum total. Yet, after all, what more do schoolboys really need, or can be safelv entrusted with? Feeling very strange and nervous, Bert and Frank took their seats, and, slipping their caps under the desk, — they were both wearing that serviceable form of head gear known as the Glengarry, — they did their best to seem compose*. . and to take in their surround- mg-i. The gaunt, unlovely room was soon inspected, and from it they turned their attention to its occupants. Mr. Snelling has already been described. To the left of his desk, and extending row upon row, one behind the other, were desks filled with boys of different ages and sizes. In front of him was an open space, in which the classes stood when reciting lessons to him, and across this space was another line of desks s\ 152 BF.RT Lloyd's boyhood. placed close to ti.\e wall, which were assigned to tlie oldest bovs in the room. Not a familiar or friendly face could the l^w comers find, but instead, they saw many that seemed to take pleasure in making them feel, if possible, still more ill at ease, by fixing upon them a cold, indiffer- ent stare, or even an ugly grimace. Tlie only ray of light was that which came from th" sweet countenaiu'e of a ')*ae-eyed, fair-haired boy, wlio, catching Bert's eye, nodded pleasantly at him, as though to say, '*I'in glad you've come; make yourself at home." And Bert resolved tliat he would make his acquaintance at the very iirst opportunity. Having nothing to do but watch the other bovs as they studied and recited, the morning dragged along verv sloNvlv for Bert and Frank, and thev were im- mensely relieved wiien the noon recess was announced, and the Mhole school poured tumultuously out into either the yard or the street, according to their prefer- ence. Tile majority of the boys went into the street, and the two friends followed them, feelimr not a little anxious as to what sort of treatment they might ex- pect at the hands of tiieir new companions. As it proved, however, they had notliing to fear, for it was an unwritten law of the Johnston school, that new boys should be left in peace for the first day ; and accordingly Frank and Bert were permitted to stand about and watch the others enjoying themselves with- out interruption. No one asked them to join in the BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 153 games, although, no doubt, had they done so of their own accord, no one would liave objected. After they liad be^n t'lere a few minutes, Bert heard a soft voice behind iiiin saying: " It's horrid to be a new boy, isn't it ? When I was a new boy I felt so frightened. Do you feel frightened ? " And turning round he saw beside irlni tiic blue-eyed, fair-haired boy whose pleasant face had attracted his attention in the school. "I don't think I feel just frightened," he answered, uitli a smile. " But I can't say I feel very much at home vet." "Oh, my! But it will be very much worse to- morrow," said the new acquaintance. "And why will it be worse?" inquired Bert, eagerly. " Because they'll hoist you," said the other, with a nervous glance around, as though he feared being overheard. "Does it hurt dreadfully to be hoisted?" asked Bert, while Frank drew near, awaiting the reply with intense interest. " Oh, yes ; it does hurt dreadfully ! But " — with a more cheerful air — "you get over it after a little while, you know." " AVell, then, I guess I can stand it. If you got over it all right, so can I," spoke up Bert, manfully ; then, turning to Frank : "And you can, too, can't you, Shorty?" 154 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. liiil Frank shook his head doubtfully. " I can all right enough, but I donH know that I tvill. I've a mind to give them a fight for it, anyhow." " Not a bit of use," said the blue-eyed boy, whose name, by the way, as he presently told the others, was Ernest Linton. "Not a bit of use. They'll only beat you the harder if you fight." " We'll see," said Frank, with a determined air. " We'll see when the time comes." Bert and Frank found Ernest a very bright and useful friend, and they had so many questions to ask him that they were' very sorry when the ringing of a bell summoned them back to their seats, where thoy were kept until three o'clock in the afternoon, when school was over for the day. At home that evening Bert recounted his experiences to three very attentive listeners, and his face grew very grave when he came to tell what Ernest had said about the "hoisting." Having never witnessed a performance of this peculiar rite by which for many years it had been the custom of the school to initiate new members, Bert had no very clear ideas about it, and, of course, thought it all the more dreadful on that account. But his father cheered him a great deal by the view he took of it. "See, now, Bert," said he. "It's just this way. Every boy in Dr. Johnston's school has been hoisted, and none of them, I suppose, are any the worse for it. Neither will you be. Take my advice and don't BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 155 resist. Let the boys have it all their own way, and they'll like you all the better, and let you off all the easier. » "Very well, father, I'll do just as you say," re- sponded Bert. "And when I come home to-morrow at'tornoon I'll tell you all about it." And feeling in miicli better spirits than he had been in all day, Bert went off to bed, and to sleep, as only a tired school- boy in sturdy Ivealth can sleep. CHAPTER XVII. THE HOISTING. MRS. LLOYD gave .Bert a more than usually affectionate kiss as he started off for school next morning, and his father called after him : " Remember, Bert, quit you like a man." Yet who could blame the little fellow if his heart throbbed with unwonted vigor all that morning, and that he watched the clock's hands anxiously as they crept slowly, but steadily, round the dial, yellow with age and service. Frank had adopted an unconcerned, if not defiant, air, which told plainly enough that he had no idea of submitting quietly to the inevitable ordeal. He was a born fighter. Strength, endurance, courage were expressed in every line of his body. Indeed, as was seen in the matter of the rows between the Garrison and the National boys, he thought a good lively tussle to be fine fun, and never missed a chance of having one. The two boys were carefully examined by both Dr. Johnston and Mr. Snelling as to the extent of their learning in the course of the morning, and assigned to classes accordingly. They were given the same work : English grammar and history, arithmetic, geography, 156 ■««IP1 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 157 Latin grammar, etc., and a list given them of the books they would need to procure. Tliey were glad to fiiul themselves in the same classes with Ernest Linton, who had been only half a year at the school before them, for he seemed such a kind, willing, obliging little chap that they both became fond of him at once. ^\'llen recess came he slipped up to Bert and whispered in his ear: "►"^tay in school, and then they can't get at you. ]\Ir. Snclling always stays, and they daren't come iu for you." "Xot a bit of it,'^ said Bert, emphatically. "The sooner it's over the better. Come along, Shorty." And they marched bravely out, with Ernest following closely behind. As they stepped into the street, they found fifty or more of the boys gathered about the door, evidently awaiting them. Instantly the cry was raised, "The new boys — hoist them! hoist them!" And half a dozen hands were laid upon Bert, who led the van, while others seized Frank to prevent his running awav. Bert made no resistance. Neither did Frank, when he saw that his time had not yet come, as they were going to hoist Bert first. Clinching his fists, and hunching his shoulders in readiness for a struggle, he stood in silence watching Bert's fate. AVhat that would be was not long a matter of un- certainty. In the midst of a noisy rabble of boys, ",-;TTT"— 158 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. many of whom were larger, and all older than him- self, he was borne along to the foot of the high fence that shut in the yard which, as already described, was at the back of the school building. Perched on top of this fence, and leaning down with out«tretchc(l arras, were four of the largest lads, shouting at the top of their voices, "Bring him along; hoist liini up, hoist hira!" The unresisting Bert was brought un- derneath this quartette, and then his hands were lifted up until they could grasp them in their own. So soon as this was done, a pull all together on their part hoisted hira up from the ground, three feet at lea:^t, and tiien his legs were seized, lest he should be tenij)t(Ml to kick. The next moment, as perfectly helpless, anil looking not unlike a hawk nailed to a barn door by way of warning to kindred robbers, Bert hung there, doing his best to keep a smile on his face, but in reality, half frightened to death. The whole crowd then precipitated themselves upon hira, and >vith tiglit-slint fists, proceeded to pummel any part of his body they could reach. Their blows were dealt in good earnest, and not merely for fun, and they hurt just as much as one might expect. Poor Bert winced, and quivered, and squirmed, but not a cry escaped from his close- set lips. The one thought in his mind was, '' Quit you like men," and so buoyed up by it was he, that had the blows been as hard again as they were, it is doubtful if his resolution to bear them in silence would have faltered. BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 159 He (lid not know how long he hung there. It seemed to him like hours. It probably was not longer than a minute. But, oh ! the glad relief with wliich he heard one of the leaders call out: "That's enough, fellows; let him down. He stood it like a brick." The blows ceased at once ; those holding his hands .swung him a couple of times along the fence after the manner of a j^endulum, and then dropped him to the gruund, where he was surrounded by his late perse- cutors, who now, looking pleasant enough, proceeded to clap him on tiie back, and tell him very emphatic- ally that he was "a plucky little chap"; 'one of the right sort"; "true grit," and so forth. Feeling sore and strained from his neck to his heels, Bert would have been glad to slip away into some corner and have a good cry, just to relieve his sup- pressed emotions; but as he tried to separate himself from the throng about him, he heard the shout of " Hoist him ! Hoist him I " again raised, and saw tlie leaders in this strange sport bear down upon Frank Bowser, who. still in the hands of his first captors had looked on at Bert's ordeal with rapidly rising anger. The instant Frank heard the shout, he broke loose from those who held him, and springing up a fligiit of steps near by, stood facing his pursuers with an expression upon his countenance that looked ill for the first that should attempt to touch him. A little daunted by his unexpected action, the boys paused for t. 160 BERT LLOYD S BOYHOOD. a moment, and then swarmed about the steps. One of the largest rushed forward to seize Frank, but with a quick movement tlie latter dodged him, and tlien bv a sudden charge sent him tumbling down the .steps into the arms of the others. But the advantage was onlv momentarv. In another minute he was sur- rounded, and borne down the steps despite his resist- ance. The struggle that ensued was really heroic — on Frank's part, at all events. Although so absurdly outnumbered, he fought desperately, not with blows, but with sheer strength of arm and leg, straining to the utmost every muscle in his sturdy frame. Indeed, so tremendous were his efforts, that for a time it seemed as if thev would succeed in freeinjr him. But the might of numbers prevailed at length, and after some minutes further struggling, he was hoisted in due form, and pounded until the boys were fairly weary. When they let him go, Frank adjusted his clothes which had been much disordered in the conflict, took his cap from the hands of a little chap, by whom it had thoughtfully been picked up for him, and with furious flaming face went over to Bert, who had been a spectator of his friend's gallant struggle with min- gled feelings of admiration for his courage and regret at his obstinacy. " They beat me, but I made thera sweat for it," said he. " I wasn't going to let them have their own way with me, even if you did." BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 161 "You might just as well have given in first as last," ivplic'tl Bt'i't. '' But I didn't give in," asserted Frank. " Tiiat's just the point. They were too many for me, of course, juui I couldn't help myself at last, but I held out as luiij; as I could." '•Anyway, it's over now," said Bert, ^'and it won't hotjjer us anv more. But there's one thinjj: I've made lip iny mind to: I'm not going to have anything to do with hoisting other new boys. I don't like it, and I won't do it." "No more will I, Bert," said Frank. "It's a mean husiness; a whole crowd of fellows turning on one and beating him like that." Just then the bell rang, and all the boys poured hack into the schoolroom for the afternoon session. Each in his own way, Bert and Frank had made a (Iccidodly favorable impression upon their schoolmates. Xo one mistook Bert's passive endurance for cowardice. His hearing had been too brave and bright for that. Neither did Frank's vigorous resistance arouse any ill feelinn; as^ainst him. Bovs are odd creatures. Thev heartily admire and applaud the fiery, reckless fellow, who takes no thouglit for the consequences, and yet •eciate the nuiet, cool self-com- appri niand of the one who does not move until he knows jii-t what he is going to do. And so they were well phased with both the friends, and quite ready to admit tiiem into the full fellowship of the school. til; 162 BERT LLOYD S BOYHOOD. The Lloyds were greatly interested by Bert's ac- count of tlie iioisting. They praised hin" t'^** iiis sell- control, and Frank for his plucky fight against sucij odds, and they fully agreed with Bert that hoisting vas a poor business at best, and that he would be doing: ri.tjht to have nothing to do with it. " Perhaps some day or other you'll be able to have it put a stop to, Bert," said his mother, patting iiis head fondly. " It would make me ve.'v proud, if mv bov were to become a reformer before he leaves school." "I'm afraid there's not much chance of tliat, mother,'' answered Bert. "The bovshave been hoist- ing the new chaps for ever so many years, and Dr. Johnston has never stopped tnem." That was true. Although he feigned to know noth- ing about it, the doctor was well aware of the existence of this practice peculiar to his school, but he never thought of interfering with the boys. It was a cardinal principle with him that the boys should be left pretty much to themselves at recess. So long as they did their duty during the school hours, they could do as they pleased during the play hour. Moreover, he was a great admirer of manliness in his boys. He would have been Had to find in everv owi of them the stoical indifference to pain of the traditional In- dian. Consequently, fair stand-up fights were wiidied at, and anything like tattling or tale bearing sternly discouraged. He had an original method of express- BERT LLOYD'h BOYHOOD. 1G3 \\)^ his disapprobation of the latter, which will be illustrated farther on. Holding those views, therefore, he was not likely to put his veto upon "hoisting." As the days went by, Bert rapidly mastered the wavs of the school, and made manv friends anion": his schoolmates. He found the lessons a good deal lianier than thev had been at Mr. Garrison's. And not only so, but the method of hearing them was so thorough that it was next to impossible for a boy who had come ill-prepared to escaped detection. Dr. Jolin- ston did not simply hear the lesson ; he examined his scholars upon it, and nothing short of fidl acquaint- ance with it would content him. He had an original system of keeping the school record, which puzzled Bert verv much, and took him a i^ood while to under- stand. On the doctor's desk lav a lar^-e book, somethintj like a bu.-iness ledger. One page was devoted to each (lay. At the left side of the page \'?s the cohnnii containins: the bovs' names arranj^ed in order of ?etiiuritv, the bov who had been lontrest in the school lieinir at the head, and the last new bov at the foot. K:ich bov had a line to himself, running out to the end of the page, and these parallel lines were crossed l)v vertical ones, ruled from the top to the bottom of the juige, and having at the top the names of all the dilferent classes ; so that the page when ready for its entries resembled very much a checker board, only that the squares were very small, and exceedingly 164 BERT LLOYD S BOYHOOD. numerous. Just how these squares, tlius stand iii£^ opposite each name, should be filled, depended upon the behavior of the owner of that name, and his knowledge of his lessons. If Bert, for instance, recited his grammar lesson "without a slip, the letter B — standing for bene, well — was put in the grammar column. If he made oiig mistake, the entrv was V B, vix bene — scarcelv well ; if two mistakes, Med, wecZioc?*iVer — middling; and if three, M, male — badly, equivalent to not knowing it at all. The same system prevailed for all the lessons, and in a modified form for the behavior or deport- ment also. As regards behavior, the arrangement was one bad mark for each offense, the first constitut- ing a V B, the second a Med, the third an M, aiid the fourth a P, tlie most ominous letter of all, standing, as it did, for pesslme — as bad as possible — and one might also say for punishment also; as whoever got a P thereby earned a whipping with that long strap, concerning which Bert had heard such alarmiii.' stories. It will be seen that by following out the line upon which each boy's name stood, his comj^lete record as a scholar could be seen, and upon this record the doctor based the award of prizes at the close of the term. For he was a firm believer in the benefits of ori/e- giving, and every half year, on the day before the holidays, a bookc^isc full of fine books, each duly inscribed, was distributed among those who had coiae B( pcctcf grim reply "\^ turnii "I ful Uj than n yi^Q ta BERT LLOYD S BOYHOOD. 165 as a loi'tor Iterni. 'U'i/e- ic tlic duly out at tlie head in the diiferent classes, or distinguished themselves bv constant good behavior. Once that Bert fully understood tlie purpose of this daily record, and the principle upon which the prize giving was based, he determined to be among the prize Avinners at the end of the term. His ambition was fired by what the ohler boys told him of the beautiful books awarded, and the honor it was to get one of them. He knew that he could not j)lcase his father or mother better than by being on the prize list, and so he applied hiriself to his lessons with a vlijor and fidelity that soon brought him to the notice of the observant doctor. '' I am glad to see you taking so much interest in your work," said he one morning, ])ausing, in his roiuid of inspection, to lay his hand kindly upon Bert's shoulder as the latter bent over his slate, work- iiit^ out a problem in proportion. "A good beginning is a very important thing." Bert blushed to the roots of his hair at this unex- pected and, indeed, unusual compliment from tiie a restless sort of a chap, moreover, and noisy in his movements, thus often causing Mr. Snelling to look at him, and call out sharply : " Bowser, what are you doing there ? " And Frank would instantly reply, in a tone of indignant innocence : " Nothing, sir." Whereupon Mr. Snelling would turn to Dr. John- ston, with the request : " Will you please put a mark to Bowser for doing nothing, sir ? " And down would go the black nuu k against poor Bowser, who, often as this hapi)en((l, seemed unable ever to learn to avoid that fatal icpl}' : " Nothing, sir." CHAPTER XYIII. SCHOOL EXPERIENCES. BY the time autumn had made way for winter, Bert felt thoroughly at home at Dr. Johnston's, and was just about as happy a boy as attended this renowned institution. In spite of the profound awe the doctor inspired, he ventured to cherish toward him a fooling of love as well as of respect ; and although !Mr. SncUing did not exactly inspire awe, nor even much respect, he managed to like him not a little also. As for the boys — well, there were all sorts and conditions of them; good, bad, and indillerent; boys who thought it very fine and manly t.o smoke, and swoar, and swap improper stories, and boys who secmod as if they had been more appropriately dressed in girls' clothes, so lacking were they in true manly qualitios; while between these two extremes came in the great majority, among whom Bert easily Ibund plonty of bright, wholesome companions. Tliere were some odd chaps at the school, with whose peculiarities Bert would amuse the borne circle very much, as he described them in ids own graphic way. Tliore was Bob Mackasey, called by his companions, "Taffy the Welshman," because lie applied the money given him by his mother every mornjr**^ to get some 168 BERT LI.OYD S BOYHOOD. lunch with to the purchase of taffy ; which toothsi »niG product he easily bartered off for more sandwiches and cakes than could have been bought for ten cents, thus filling his own stomach at a very slight cost to his far-seeing mother. A big fat fellow in knickerbockers, by name ILirry Rawdon, the son of an officer in the English army, had attained a peculiar kind of notoriety in the school, by catching flies and bottling them. Then there was Larry Saunders, the dandy of the school, although undoubtedly one of the very plainest boys in it, who kept a tiny square of looking glass iu his desk, and would carefully aiTange his toilet before leaving the school in the afternoon, to saunter up and down the principal street of the city, doing his best to be captivating. Two hot-tempered, pugnacious chaps, by name Bub Morley and Fred Short, afforded great amusement by the ease with which they could be set at punching one another. It was only necessary for some one to take Bob Merely aside and whisper meaningly that Fred Short had been calling him names behind his back, or something ofthatsort equally aggravating, to put him in fighting humor. Fortliwith, he would challenge Mas- ter Fred in the orthodox way — that is, he would take up a chip, spit on it, and toss it over his shoulder. Without a moment's hesitation, Fred would accept the challenge, and then the two would be at it, ham- mer and tongs, fighting vigorously until they were BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 1G9 OlllC dies red separated by the originators of the mischief, when they thoiidit thev iiatl had enough of it. Tiiev were verv evenly matched, and as a matter of fact did not do one anotiier much liarm; but tiie joke of tlie thing was that they never seemed to suspect how they were beinsj made tools of bv the other bovs, who alwavs enjoyed these duels immensely. Another character, and a verv lovable one this time, was a nephew of the doctor's, Will Johnston by name, but universally called "Teter," an odd nick- name, the reason of which he did not seem to under- stand himself. This Teter was one of those good- natured, obliging, reckless, happy-go-lucky individuals who never fail to win the love of bovs. His gen- erosity was equaled only by his improvidence, and both were surpassed by his good luck. Bert conceived a great admiration for Teter John- ston. His undaunted courage, as exhibited in snow- ball fights, when, with only a handful of followers he would charge upon the rest of the school, and generally put them to flight; his reckless enterprise and amazing luck at marbles and other games; his constant championing of the small boys when tor- nK^nted by the larger ones, more than one bully having had a tremendous thrashing at his hands; — these were very shining qualities in Bert's eyes, and they fascinated him so, that if "fagging" liad been per- mitted at Dr. Johnston's, Bert would have deemed it not a hardship, but an lionor, to have been Teter's"fag.'* liilii 170 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. II In strong contrast to liis admiration for Toter Jolni- ston was his antipathy to Rod Graham. Rod was botli a snealv and a bullv.' It was in his character as a sneak that he sliowed himself to Bert first, makini,^ profuse demonstrations of good-will, and doing his best to ingratiate himself with him, because from his well- to-do appearance he judged that he would be a good subject from whom to beg lunch, or borrow marbles. and so on. But Bert instinctively disliked Rod, and avoided him to the best of his abilit\'. Then Rcxl revealed the other side of his nature. From a sneak he turned into a bully, and lost no opportunity of teasing and tormenting Bert, who, being much smaller than he, felt compelled to submit, although there were times when he was driven almost to desperation. It was not so much by open violence as by underhanded trickery that Rod vented his spite, and this made it all the harder for Bert, who, although he was never in any doubt as to the identity of the person that stole his lunch, poured ink over his copy book, scratched his slate with a bit of jagged glass, tore the tails oif his glengarry, and filled the pockets of his overcoat with snow, still saw no way of putting a stop to this tormentinsj other than bv thrash i nor Rod, and this he did not feel equal to doing. Upon this last point, however, he changed his mind subsequently, thanks to the influence of his friend Teter Johnson, and the result was altogether satisfactory as will be shown iu due time. BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 171 Bort's feelings toward Dr. Johnstou himself were, as lui.s been already stated, of a mixed nature. At lirst, he was simply afraid of him, but little by little a gentler feeling crept into his heart. Yet there was no doubt the doctor was far more likely to inspire fear than love. He wielded his authority with an impar- tial, uns})aring hand. No allowance was ever made for hesitancy or nervousness on the part of the scholar when reciting his lesson, nor for ebullitions of boyish .spirits when sitting at the desk. " Everything must i)e done correctly, and in order," was the motto of his rule. The whippings he administered were about as impressive a mode of school punishment as could be desired. The unhappy boy who had behaved so ill, or missed so many lessons as to deserve one, heard the awful words "Stand upon the floor for punishment," uttered in the doctor's sternest tones. Trembling in every limb, and feeling cold shivers running up and (]()wn his back, while his face flushed fiery red, or paled to ashy white by turns, the cidprit would re- liictantlv leave his seat, and take his stand in the cen- tial aisle, with the eyes of the whole school upon him variously expressing pity, compassion, or perhaps un- sympathetic ridicule. After he had stood there some time, for be it known this exposure was an essential part of the punishment, he would see the doctor slowly rise from his seat, draw forth from its hiding place the long black strap that had for so many years been his sceptre, and then 172 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. ;5 I come down toward him witli slow, stately steps. Stop- ping just in front of him, the order would he issued : "Hold out your hand." Quivering with apprelien- sion, the bov would extend his hand but half wav, keeping his elbow fast at his side. But the doctor would not be thus partiallv obeved. " Hold out vonr hand, sir!" he would thunder, and out would go the arm to its fullest length, and with a sharp swi>h through the air, down would come the strap, covering the hand from the wrist to finger tip, and sendiiiij; a thrill of agony through every nerve in the body. Ten, twenty, thirty, or in extreme cases, even forty such stripes would be administered, some boys taking them as fast as the doctor could strike, so that the torture might soon be over, and others pausing bn- tween each blow, to rub their stinging palms together, and bedew them with their tears. It was a terrible ordeal, no doubt, and one that would hardly be approved of to-day, the publicity uniting with the severity to make it a cruel strain upon a boy's nervous system. In all the years tliat Bert spent at Dr. Johnston's school he was called upon to endure it onlv once, but that once sufficed. Tii6 way it came about was this : Bert one morning happened to be in a more than usually frolicsome mood, and was making pellets out of the soft part of the rolls he had brought for lunch, and throwing them about. In trying to hit a boy who sat between him and Mr. Saelling's desk, C) .S( BERT Lloyd's boyhc)od. 173 lie somehow or other miscalculated his aim, aiul to his horror, the sticky pellet Hew straight at the halil spot on top of Mr. Snelling'.s head, as the latter bent liis shortsighted eyes over a book before liim, hitting it sqtuirely in the centre, and staying there in token of its success. With angry face, Mr. Snelling sprang to his feet, and brushing the unlucky pellet from iiis shiny pate, called out so fiercely as to attract the doctor's attention : '• Who threw that at me? " Tlie few bovs who were iu the secret looked verv hard at their books, while those who were not glanced up in surprise, and tried to discover the cause of Mr. Snelling's excitement. " Who threw that at me?" demanded Mr. Snell- iiiir again. Jjort, who had at first been so appalled by what he had done that his tongue refused to act, was abcut to cull out "It was I, sir," when Rod Graham was seen t(^ hold up his hand, and on Mr. Snelling turn- ing inquiringly toward iiim, Rod, in a low, sneaking voice, said : "It was Lloyd, sir; I saw him do it." Mr. Snelling immediately called out, ''Lloyd, come to my desk ; and Bert, feeling hot and cold by turns, went up to the desk, and stood before it the picture of penitence. "Did you throw that pellet? " asked Mr. Snelling, ill indignant tones. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) A 1.0 I.I 1.25 '"IIIM IIM j'" iM mum L6 "^ 12.0 1.8 14 111.6 V] <^ /] % ■'1 s>' /A T o 7 Photographic Sciences Corporation ,\ S ,v ^^ o "% V ^>. <> '^^ 23 WEST MAIN STR' jT WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 i 1il |y — ' i 174 BEBT Lloyd's boyhood. " Yes, sir ; but I didn't mean to hit you, sir," answered Bert, meekly. " I know nothing about that," answered Mr. Snell- ing, too much excited to listen to any defense. " Fol- low me to Dr. Jolmston." Hastening into the presence of the stern headmaster, Mr. Snellitig stated what had happened, aud pointed to the treiijbiing Bert as the culprit. " How do you know he is the offender, Mr. Suell- ing?" inquired the doctor, gravely. "Graham said lie saw him do it, sir, and Llovd confesses it himself," replied Mr. Siielling. " Oh I indeeil — that is sufficient. Leave Lloyd with me." And thus dismissed, Mr. Snelling returned to his dcik. "Llovd, I am sorrv about this. You must stand upon the floor for punishment," said thp doctor, turn- ing to Bert ; and Bert, chilled to the heart, took his place upon the spot where he had so often pitied other boys for being. Presently, drawing out his strap, the doctor came toward him : " Hold out your hand, sir. Bert promptly extended his right hand to the full. Swish ! and down came the cruel strap ujwn it, in- flicting a burning smart, as though it were a retl-hot iron^ and sending a thrill of agony through every nerve. Swish ! And the left hand was set on fire. Swish I Swish I right aud left ; right and BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 176 left, until twenty stripes had been administered ; and then, turning on ills heel, the doctor walked solemnly back to his desk. During all this torture not a sound had escaped Bert. He felt that the doctor could not do other- wise than punish him, and he determined to beir the punishment bravely ; so closing his lips tightly, und summoning all his resolution, he held out one hand after the other, taking the blows as fast as the doctor could give them. But when the ordeal was over he hurried to his seat, and burying his head in his burning hands, burst into a passion of teai-s — for he could control himself no longer. A few minutes later his attention was aroused hv hearing the doctor call out, in a loud, stern voice : *' Graham, come forward." Graliam got.out of his seat, and in a half-fright- ened way, slunk up to the doctor's desk. " I understand, Graham," said the doctor, with his p:riinmest expression, " that you volunteered to tell Mr. Snelling who it was that threw that pellet. You know, or ought to know, the rule of this school as to informers. You will receive the same punishment that I have just given Lloyd. Stand upect for Teter's prowess not to obey him, gave way with a malignant scowl, Teter said, encour- afjiiiijlv : •'You must fight him, Bert. It's the only way to settle him. You'll thrash him all right enough. I'll see you through." Bert had a good many doubts about his thrashing "him all right enough," but he was still too angry to think calmly, aud^ moreover, he was not a little V' i i ■ ■^ t ^ ) 4 ■ * ' 9. \ T -t V ,■ t t p 180 BERT LIX)YD S BOYHOOD. elated at the surprising success of his first blow, which, ahhough struck at a venture, had gone so straigiit to the mark, and so he nodded liis head in assent. "Very well, then, it*s a fight," said Teter to Rod. "In the yard at the noon recess. You bring your second, Graham ; I'll look after Bert myself." The words were hardlv uttered when the bell runjr, and the boys had all to hurry to their places in tiie schoolroom. That morning was one of the most miserable poor Bert had ever spent. He was a prey to the most diverse feelings, and it was with the utmost difficulty that he could bring his mind to bear sufficiently upon his lessons to keq) his place in the classes. In tlie first place, he really dreaded the figlit with Rod Gra- ham. Graham was older, taller, and ranch more experienced in such affiiirs, and Bert could see no reason why he should hope for a victory over him. It was all well enough for dear old Frank to say from time to time, as he noticed Bert's depression: "Keep up your spunk, Bert; you'll thrush him sure. And if you don't, I will, as sure as I'm alive." But that did not make the matter anv clearer, for Bert would rather not get a thrashing at Rod's hands, even though Rod should get one at Frank's hands shortlv after. Then, again, he did not feel at all certain that his father and mother woidd approve of his having a fight with one of his schoolmates. They disliked m» BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 181 iving a lisliked anytliing of tlie kind, he knew well enough, and per- haps they would not be willing to make an exception ill tiiis case. He wished very much he could ask ilieir permission, but that, of course, was out of the question. The mere mention of such a thing would assuredly raise a howl of derision from the other boys, and even Teter Johnston would no doubt ask con- temptuously if "he was going to back out of it iu that way." No, no; lie must take the chances of his parents* approval, and likewise — and here came in the third tlifficulty-^-of Dr. Johnston's, also, for he could not help wondering what the doctor would think when he heard of it, as he was certain to do. Thus perplexed and bewildered, the morning drugged slowly along for Bert, who would one moment be wishing that recess time could be postponed in- definitely, and the next, impatient for its arrival. At length twelve o'clock struck, and the boys, who were by this time all fully aware of what was in the wind, crowded out into the yard and quickly formed a i'\uif m )!• '■I 184 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. tu III ' 5" ,1 4 *'!. . ¥1 "^1 i Bert immediately put out liia Ijiind and graspeil Bod's, wiiich was but half extended. " Very good,'* said tlie doctor. " We will now pro- ceed with the lesson." One of the most interested and excited spectators oi the fight had been Dick Wilding, a boy who will re- quire a few words of description. He was the son of one of the merchant princes of the city, and was ac;- customed to everything that the highest social station and abundant wealth could procure. He was a hand- some young fellow, and, although thoroughly spoiled and seliish, was not without his good points, a lavish generosity being the most noteworthy. This, of course, supplemented by his reckless daring as regards all schoolboy feats, and natural altitude for schoolboy sports, made him very popular at the school, and he had a large following. Previous to Bert's decisive victory over Rod Graham, he had not shown anv particular interest in him, beyond committing himself to the opinion that he was a "regular brick" on the occasion of the hoisting, and again, when Bert bore l)is whipping so manfully. But since the fight, he had exhibited a strong desire to have Bert join tlie circle of his companions, and to this end cultivated ills society in a very marked w?Ly. Now this same Dick Wilding had been in Mrs. Lloyd's mind, when she had hesitated about Bert's going to Dr. Johnston's. She knew well what his bringing up liad been, and had heard several stones BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 185 about him, which made her dread his l)eing a com- piuiiun fur Bert. Shu hud uccordiugly spoken to Bert about Dick, and while taking care not to be too pointed, liad made it clear that slie did not want them to be intimate. Tiiis was when Bert first went to tlie scliool, and as there iiad seemed no prospect of any- tiiing more tiian a mere acquaintance springing up between the two boys, notinng liad been :\\d on the siil)ject for some time, so that it was not fr ^sh in his mind when Dick, somewhat to his SPi;)rise, sliow. 1 sucli a desire for his society. Diuiv j latest enterprise "/as the organiztnlon of a .ricket club, into which he was putting a great deal of eiiertrv. As the bats and balls and other necessarv articles were to be paid for out of his own pocket, he found no difficulty in getting recruits, and the list of members was fast filling up. Lert had heard a good deal about this club, and would have liked very much to belong to it, but as nobody belonged except those who had been invited by Dick, his prospects did not seem very bright. Great, then, was his delight when one day at recess, Dick came up to him and said in his most winning wav : *' Say, Bert, don't you want to join my cricket club? I'd like to have vou in.'* Bert did not take long to answer. "And I'd like to join ever so much," he replied, iu great glee. "All right, then ; consider yourself a member, and f ■.!' (is If i 186 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. come round to the field behind our hoise this after- uoon. We practice there every day/' Bert was fairly dancing with joy. Yet he did not forget his friend Frank. If Frank were not a mem- ber of the club, too, half the pleasure of it would be gone. So before Dick went ofF, he ventured to say : " Frank Bowser would like to belong, too, I know. Won't vou ask him?" " Certainly. No objection at all," replied Dick, in an off-hand way. " Bring him along with you this afternoon." With beaming face, Bert rushed over to where Frank was busy playiug Fuarbles, and, drawing him aside, shouted rathe;; than wliispered in his ear: " I've got something splendid to tell you. Dick Wilding has asked us both to join his cricket clul>, and we're to go to his field this very afternoon." "You don't say sol" exclaimed Frank, his face now beaming as brightly as Bert's. " Isn't that just splendid ! I wanted to belong to that club ever so much, but was afraid Dick wouldn't ask me." They had a capital game of cricket tliat afternoon in the Wilding field, which made a very good ground indeed, and not only that afternoon, but for many afternoons as spring passed into summer and tlie days grew longer and warmer. Bert told them at home about the club, but somehow omitted to mention the prominent part Dick Wilding played in it. In fiict, he never mentioned his name at all, nor that it was his BEBT Lloyd's boyhood. 187 father's field in whicK the club met. This was the first step ill a path of wrong, tiie taking of which was soon to lead to serious consequences. His reason for suppressing Dick Wilding's name was plain enough. He knew that in all probability it would put an end to his connection with the club. Now this club had every attraction for a boy like Bert tirat such an organization could possibly possess. It was select and exclusive, for none could belong except those who were invited by Dick. The field was a lovely place to play in, and they had it all to themselves. The balls and bats and stumps were first class, a fine set of cricket gear having been one of Dick's Christinas presents ; and, finally, Dick was always bringing out to the players iced lemonade, or ginger beer, or spruce beer, or something of the kind, which was wonderfully welcome to them when hot and tired and thirstv. With such strong arguments as these, Bert did not find it difficult to quiet his conscience when it troubled him, as it did now and then, and he continued to be a great deal in Dick Wilding's society until something happened which caused bin: to bitterly regret that he had not heeded the inward monitor, and kept away from the associations his wise mother wished him to avoid. Mrs. Lioyd had good reason for dreading Dick Wilding's companionship for her boy, as Dick could hardly fail to do Bert harm, while the chances of : ir I III I 188 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. Bert doing him any good were very small, since he was quite a year older and well set in his own ways. Dick's parents were thorough people of the world. Their religion consisted in occupying a velvet-cusli- ioued pew in a fashionable church on Sunday morn- ing, and doing as tiiey pleased the rest of the day. They made no attempt to teach their son anything more than good manners, taking it quite for granted that tiie other virtues would spring up of themselves. Dick was not much to be blamed, therefore, if he had rather hazy views about right and wrong. He had not really an evil nature, but he had a very easy conscience, and the motto by which he shaped his conduct might well have been : " Get your own way. Get it honestly, if you can. But — get it." Now, this cricket club had taken a great hold upon his fancy, and his whole heart was wrapped up in it. He was captain, of course, and all the other boys obeved him implicitlv. Their docilitv ministered to his pride, and he showed his appreciation by fairly showering his bounty upon them. There positively seemed no end to his pocket money. All sorts of expenses were indulged in. A fine tent was set up for the boys to put their hats and coats in and sit under when not playing, the ginger-beer man had orders to call round everv afternoon and leave a dozen bottles of his refreshing beverage, and more than once the club, instead of playing, adjourned, at Dick's invitation j to an ice-cream saloon, and had a regular II III: BERT LLOYD*S BOYHOOD. 189 W\?. feast of ice cream. Wlien some indiscreet com- ptiDion would ex})ress liis astonishment at the length of Dick's purse, the latter would answer, carelessly : " Plenty of funds. Father, and mother, and uncle all give me money. There's lots more where this came from," jingling a handful of silver as he spoke. So, indeed, there was; but had it any business to be in Master Dick's pocket? Til is delightful state of affaii's went on for some weeks, no one enjoying it more than Bert, and then came a revelation that broke upon the boys like a tliunder-clap out of a clear sky. One evening, Mr. Wilding came over to see Mr. Lloyd, looking very grave and troubled. They had a lonir talk together in Mr. Llovd's studv, and when he went away Mr. Lloyd looked as grave and troubled as his visitor. After showing Mr. Wilding out, he called his wife into the library, and communicated to her what he had just heard, and it must have been sorrowful news, for Mrs. Lloyd's face bore unmistak- able signs of tears, when presently sha went out for Bert, who was hard at work upon I: is lessons in the tlining room. Tiie moment Bert entered the room he saw thaf; something was the matter. The faces of his father and mother were very sorrowful, and an indefinabl-i feeling of apprehension took hold of him. He v»ds not long left in uncertainty as to the cause of the trouble. ?m 190 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. ** Bert," said his fatlier, gravely, " have you seen much of Dick Wilding lately ? " Bert blushed, and hesitated a moment, and then answered : " Yes, father ; a good deal. He's the captain of our cricket club, you know." *' I did not know until now that vou have told rae, Bert," said Mr. Lloyd, looking meaningly at him. " You never told me before, did vou ? " The color deepened on Bert's face. " No, father ; I don't think I did," he murmured. "Had you any reason for saving nothing about him, Bert? Were vou afraid we would not let vou belong to the club if we knew that Dick Wilding was its captain?" asked Mr. Lloyd. Bert made no reply, but his head drooped low upon his breast, and his hands playing nervously with the buttons of his coat told the whole story more plainly than words could have done. Mr. Llovd siixlud deeply and looked at his wife as though to say : " There's no doubt about it ; our boy has been de- ceivino: us," while Mrs. Llovd's eves once more fillwl with tears which she turned awav to hide. After a pause, during which Bert seemed to hem* the beating of his own heart as distinctly as the tick- ing of the big clock upon the mantel, Mr. Lloyd said, in tones that showed deep feeling : " We would have been sorry enough to find out that our boy had been deceiving us, but what sliall ;<>ispiiiui;i4 BERT LLOYDS BOYHOOD. 191 we say at finding out that he has been a sharer in pleasures purchased with stolen money ? " Bert looked up in surprise. Stolen money ! What could his father mean ? Mr. Lloyd understood the movement, and anticipated the unasked question. " Yes, Bert j stolen money. The beer, the candy, and the ice cream, which Dick Wilding lavished upon you so freely, were paid for with money stolen from his mother's money drawer. He found a key \vhich fitted the lock, and has taken out, no one knows just how much money; and you have been sharing in what that stolen money purchased." Bert was fairly stunned. Dick Wilding a thief I And he a sharer in the proceeds of his guilt I He felt as though he must run and hide himself. That Dick should do wrong was not entirely a surprise to him, but that his sin in being a companion of Dick's on the sly should be found out in this way, this it was which cut him to the heart. Without a word of ex- cuse to offer, he sat there, self-condemned and speech- less. The silence of the room was appalling. He could not bear it any longer. Springing from his chair, he rushed across the room, threw himself on his knees before his mother, and putting his head in her lap, burst into a paroxysm of tears, sobbing as though his heart would break. "Poor Bert, poor Bert!" murmured his mother, tenderly, passing her hand softly over the curly head in her lap. mr il ' 192 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. ;i :i !, lli iillil ''' li m ! Mr. liloyd was deeply moved, and put liis hand up to his eyes to conceal tlie tears fast welling from them. For some minutes the quiet of the room was broken only by Bert's sobs, and the steady ticking of the clock upon the mantlepiece. Mr. Lloyd was the first to speak. " You had better get up and go to your room, Bert. We both know how sorry you are, and we forgive you for having so disobeyed us. But we are not the only ones of whom you must ask forgiveness. Go to your knees, Bert, and ask God to forgive you." Bert rose slowly to his feet, and not vent ^ring to look either his father or mother in the face, was going out of the door, when his father called him back. "Just one word more, Bert. It is not long since you v.'on a brave figlit, and now you have been sadly defeated bv a far worse enemv than Rod Graham. You can, in your own strength, overcome human foes, but only by divine strength can you overcome the tempter that has led you astray this time. Pray for this strength, Bert, for it is the kind the Bible means when it says, * Quit you like men, be strong.' " And with a look of deep affection, Mr. Lloyd let Bert go from him. It ill ■'T^vi^^-iTfa ':^l md up I them, broken of the room, md we we are veness. e vou." ring to LS going ick. icr since n sadlv rahani. an foes, me the ray for means ov d let CHAPTER XX. V A NARROW ESCAPE. SO keenly did Bert feel his disgrace, that it was some time before he regained his wonted spirits ; and his continued depression gave his mother no little concern, so that she took every way of showing to him that her confidence in him was unimpaired, and that she asked no further proof of his penitence than he had already given. But Bert's sensitive nature ha i received a shock from which it did not readily recover. From his earliest days he had been pecu- liarly free from the desire to take what did not belong to him; and as he grew older, this had developed into a positive avei-sion to anything that savored of stealing in the slightest degree. He never could see any fun in "hooking" another lx)y's lunch, as so many others did, and nothing could irfduce him to join in one of the numerous expeditions organized to raid sundry unguarded orchards in the outskirts of the city. His firmness upon this point led to a curious scene one afternoon. School was just out, and a group of the boys, among whom were Bert and, of course, Frank Bowser, was discussing what they sliouid do with themselves, when Ned Ross pro-" 1 : ' V i'-,? ■ s.:; *y^iKs N 193 194 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. m m m iili posed that they should go out to the Hostcrman orchard, and see if they could not get some apples. A chorus of approval came from all but Bert, who immediately turned away and made as though he would go home. "Hallo! Bert," cried Ned Ross, "aren't you coming ? " "No," replied Bert, very decidedly. "I'm not." " Why not? " inquired Ned. " What's the matter? " "Those are not our apples, Ned, and we've got no right to touch 'em," answered Bert. "Bosh and nonsense!" exclaimed Ned. "All the boys take them, and nobody ever hinders them. Come along." "No," said Bert, "I can't." "Can't? Why can't you?" persisted Ned, who was rapidly losing his temper. Bert hesitated a moment, and the color mounted high in his cheeks. Then he spoke out his reason bravely : "Because I'm a Christian, Ned; and it would not be right for me to do it." "A Christian?" sneered Ned. "You'd be nearer the truth if you said a coward." The words had hardly left his lips before Frank Bowser was standing before him, shaking in his face a fist that was not to be regarded lightly. "Say that again," cried Frank, wrathfully, "and I'll knock you down !" ■«'^3W,5rJ «^>||| BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. 196 Ned looked at Frank's face, and then at his fist. Tliere was no mistaking the purpose of either, and us Frank was fully his match, if not more, he tlioiight it prudent to say nothing more than: " Bah ! Come on, fellows. We can get along witliout him." Tlie group moved ofif; but Bert was not the only one who stayed behind. Frank stayed, too; and so did Ernest Linton. And these three sought their amusement in another direction. That scene very vividly impressed Bert, and over and over again he thought to liimself; "What will the boys who heard me refuse to go to the orchard, because I am a Christian, think of me when they hear tliat I have been helping to spend stolen monev ? " Tills was the thought that troubled him most, but it was not the onlv one. He felt that he could not be at ease witii his beloved Sunday-school teacher again, until he had made a full confession to iiim. But, oh ! this did seem so hard to do ! Several Sundays passed without his being able to make up liis mind to do it. At length he determined to put it off no longer, and one Sunday afternoon, lingering behind after tlie school hnd been dismissed, he poured the whole story into Mr. Silver's sympathetic ear. Mr. Silver was evidentlv moved to the heart, as Bert, without sparing himself, told of his disobedience, his concealment, and the consequences that followed ; •I'll ■'Wj i:{': h'. III! 196 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. and he had many a wise and tender word for the boy, whose confidence in liini made him proud. From that day a peculiar fondness existed between the two, and Mr. Silver was inspired to increased fidelity and effort in his work because of the knowledge that one at least of his boys looked upon him with such affec- tion and confidence. Once that summer had fairly come to stay, tlie wharves of the city became full of fascination for the boys, and every afternoon they trooped thither to fish for perch and tommy cods ; to board the vessels lying in their berths, and out-do one another in feats of rigging climbing; to play glorious games of "hide and seek," and " I spy," in the great cavernous ware- houses, and when tired to gather around some idle sailor, and have him stir their imagination with mar- velous stories of the sea. For none had the wharves more attraction than for Bert and Frank, and although Mrs. Lloyd would not allow the former to go down Water Street, where he would be far from home, she did not object to his spending an afternoon now and then on a wharf not far from their own house. So thither the two friends repaired at every opportunity, and fine fun they had, dropping their well-baited hooks into the clear green water, to catch eager perch, or watching the hard work- ing sailors dragging huge casks of molasses out of dark and grimy holds, and rolling them up the wharf to be stored in the vast cool warehouses, or running BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 197 the bov. From the two, ilitj aud that one L'h affec- itay, the tiou for liither to e vessels • in feats of "hide us ware- )me idle ith mar- tiian for ould not r'here he ;t to his larf not friends hey had, ar green rd work- E out of he wharf running risks of being pickled themselves, as they followed the fish-curers in their work of preparing the salt herring or mackerel for tlieir journey to the hot West Indies. There never was any lack of employment, for eyes, or hands, or feet, xiv that busy wiiarf, and the boys felt very proud wlicn they were permitted to join the workers sometimes and do their little best, which was all the more enjoyable because they could stop whenever they liked, and hadn't to work all day as the others did. Nor were tliese the only attractions. The principal business done at this wharf was with the West Indies, and no vessel thought of coming back from that re- gion of fruits without a goodly store of oranges, ba- nanas, and pineapples, some of which, if the boys were not too troublesome, and the captain had made a good voyage, were sure to find their way into very appreciative mouths. Bert's frank, brighi manner, and plucky spirit made him a great favorite with the captains, and many a time was he sent home with a big juicy pine, or an armful of great golden oranges. One day, when Bert and Frank went down to the wharf, they found a strange-looking vessel made fast to the piles that filled them with curiosity. She was a barquentiue, and was sparred, and rigged, and painted in a rather unusual way, the explanation of it all being that she was a Spanish v^essel, of an old-fashioned type. Quite in keeping with the appearance of the vessel was the appearance of the crew. They were I™SI1 li rap. tt' ??T-' 198 BERT LLOYD^S BOYHOOD. nearly all Lascars, and with their tawny skins, fljish- ing eyes, jet black hair, and gold-ringeil ears, seeined to fit very well the description of tiie pirates, wlioie dreadful deeds, as graphically described in sundry books, had given the boys many a delicious thrill of horror. This resemblance caused them to look upon the foreigners with some little fear at first, but tlicir curiosity soon overcame all considerations of prudence, and after hanging about for a while, they bashfully accepted the invitation extended tiiem by a swarthy sailor, whose words were unintelligible, but whose meaning was unmistakable. On board the "Sunta Maria" — for that was the vessel's name — thev found much to interest them, and the sailors treated them very kindly, in spite of their piratical appearance. What delighted them mo.st was a monkey that belonged to the cook. He was one of the cutest, cleverest little creatures that ever parodied humanity. His owner had taught him a good many tricks, and he had taught himself even more; and both the bovs felt that in all their lives thev had never seen so entertaining a pet. He completely captivated them, and they would have given all they possessed to make him their own. But the cook had no idea of parting with him, even had it been in their power to buy him ; so they had to content themselves with going down to see him as often as they could. Of course, they told their schoolmates about him, and of course the schoolmates were set wild with BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 199 curiosity to see this marvelous monkey, and tliey liockeil down to the "Santa Maria" in such numbers, uiui HO often, tliat at last tiic saih)rs ^ot tired of them. A mob of schooll)oys invading tlie deck every after- 11001), and paying uproarious liomage to the cleverness of :i nionkev, was more or less of a nuisance. Accord- iiiL^ly, by way of a gentle hint, the rope ladder, by wliioli easy access was had to the vessel, was removed, and .'I 'ingle rope put in its place. It i. ^)pened that the first afternoon after this had Ix-'cn done, the crowd of visitors was larger than ever; and when they arrived at the "Santa Maria's" side, and found the ladder gone, they were, as may be easily imagined, very much disgusted. A rope might be irood enough for a sailor, but the boys very much preferred a ladder, and the.y felt disposed to resent the action of tiie sailors in thus cutting off their means of ascent. The fact that it was high tide at the time, and the tall sides of the ship towered above the wharf, constituted a further grievance in the boys' minds. Tiiey held an impromptu indignation meeting forth- with. But, although they were unanimous in con- demning the conduct of the foreigners, who evidently did not know any better, they were still no nearer the monkev. "Why not try to shin up the rope?" asked Frank Bowser, after a while. " All right, if you'll give us a lead," replied one of the others. iiilillii 200 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. \n\M\ I i i III Iffliii liiiii liiiiiii "Very well — here goes!" returned Frank. And without more ado he grasped the rope, planted liis feet firmly against the vessel's side, and began to ascend. It was evidently not the easiest thing in tlie world to do, but his pluck, determination, and muscle conquered ; and presently, somewhat out of breath, he sat upon the bulwark, and, waving his cap to the boys below, gasped out : " Come along, boys ! It's as easy as winking." Not to be outdone, several others made the attempt and succeeded also. Then came Bert's turn. Althous;li so many had gotten up all right, he somehow felt a little nervous, and made one or two false starts, cliinbing up a little ways and then dropping back p.gain. This caused those wl > were waiting to be- come impatient, and while Bert was about making another start, one of them who stood behind him gave him a sharp push, saying : ' "Hurry up there, slow coach." As it happened, Bert was just at that moment changing his grip upon the rope, and balancing himself upon the extreme elge of the stringer, which formed the edge of the wharf. The ill- timed push caught him unawares. He threw out his arms to steady himself, and the rope slipped altogether from his grasp. The next instant, M'ith a cry of fear that was taken up by the boys stand- ing helplessly about, he fell over into the dark, swirl- ing water, between the vessel's side and the wharf. BERT LLOYD S BOYHOOD. 201 nk. And lanted liis began to ing iu tlie lid muscle breath, lie y the bovs ving.'* le attempt Altliontjh ow felt a Ise starts, jiiig back Qg to be- t making him o-ave O moment balancing stringer, The ill- fa re w out slipped ant, with ys stand- rk, swirl- v^harf. Down, down, down, he went, while the water roared in his ears with the thunders of Niagara, and filled his mouth with its sickening brine, as instinctively he opened it to cry for help. He could not swim a stroke, but he had a good idea of what the motions Avere, and so now, in a desperate effort to save his life, he struck out vigorously with his hands. It must have helped him, too; for out of the dark- ness into which he had been plunged at first, he emerged into a lighter place, where, through the green water, he could see his hands looking very M'hite, as they moved before his face. But this did not bring him to the surface; so m he tried another plan. Doubling his sturdy legs beneath him, he shot them out as he had seen other boys do when "treading water." A thrill of joy inspired him as the effort succeeded, and, his head rising above the surface, he got one good breath before sinking again. But the pitiless water engulfed him once more, and, though he struggled hard, he seemed unable to keep himself from sink- ing deeper still. Then the desire to struggle began to leave him. Life seemed no longer a thing to be fiercely striven for. A strange peace stole over his mind, and was followed by a still stranger thing; for while he floated there, an unresisting prey to the deep, it appeared as though all the events of his past life were crowding before him like some wonderful pan- orama. From right to left, they followed one another i m^ m 202 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. in orderly procession, each as clear and distinct as a painted picture, and he was watching them with ab- sorbed, painless interest, when something darii came across his vision ; he felt himself grasjKjd firmly, and drawn swiftly through the water, and the next thing he knew, he was in the light and air again, and was being handed up to the top of the wharf by men who passed him carefully from one to the other. In the very nick of time, rescue had come, and Bert was brought back to life. Now, wiio was his rescuer, and what took place while Bert was struggling for his life in the cold, dark water? The instant he disappeared, the boys shouted and shrieked in such a way as to bring the whole crew of the "Santa Maria" to the bulwarks, over which they eagerly peered, not understanding what was the matter. Frank, who was in a frenzy of anxiety and alarm, tried hard to explain to them; but his efforts were unavailing until the reappearance of Bert's head made the matter plain at once, and then he thought they would, of course, spring to the rescue. But tliey did not. They looked at one an- other, and jabbered something unintelligible, but not one of them moved, though Frank seized the liveliest of them by the arm, and, pointing to the place where Bert vanished, again indicated, by unmistakable ges- tures, what he wanted him to do. Tiie man simply shook his head and moved away. He either could not swim, or did not think it woith while to risk his ,iiti§n« iiiii:i:<.iiii|. Ml BERT liLOYD's BOYHOOD. 203 precious life in trying to rescue one of the foreign lU'cliins that had been bothering the " Santa Maria " of late. Had Bert's life depended upon these men, it might have been given up at once. But there was other help at hand. John Connors, tlie good-natured Irish storekeeper, by whose suffer- ance the boys were permitted to make a playground of tlie wharf, had heard their frantic cries, although he was away up in one of the liigliest flats of the furthest store. Without stopping to sec wliat could be tlic matter, Connors leaped down tlie long flights of stairs at a reckless rate, and ran toward the shrieking boys. " Bert's overboard — save him ! " .they cried^ as he burst into their midst. " Where ? " he asked, breathlessly, while he flung off his boots. "There — just there," they replied, pointing to where Bert had last been seen. Balancing himself for an instant on the end of the stringer, Connors, with the spring of a practiced swimmer, dove into the depths, and disappeared ; while the boys, in the silence of intense anxiety, crowded as close as they dared to the edge of the wharf, and the Lascars looked down from their bul- warks in stolid admiration. There were some moments of harrowing uncertainty, and then a shout arose from the boys, which even the swarthy sailors imitated, after a fashion ; for cleaving the bubbled surface came the 204 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 11 ill head of brave John Connors, and close beside It the dripping curls of Bert Lloyd, the faces of both showing great exhaustion. The sailors were all alert now. Ropes were hastily flung over the side, and swarming down these with the agility of monkeys, they took Bert out of his rescuer's hands and passed him up to the wharf; Con- nors followed unassisted, so soon as he had recovered his breath. Once upon the wharf, they were surrounded by a noisy group of boys, overjoyed at their playmate's happy escape from death, and overflowing with admir- ation for his gallant rescuer. Bert very quickly came to himself — for he had not indeed entirely lost con- sciousness — and then Connors told him just how he had gotten hold of him : " When I dived down first I couldn't see anything of you at all, my boy, and I went hunting about with my eyes wide open and looking for you. At last, just as I was about giving you up, I saw something dark below me that I thought might p'r'aps be yourself. So I just stuck out my foot, and by the powers if it didn't take you right under the chin. As quick as a wink I drew you toward me, and once I had a good grip of you, I put for the top as hard as I could go ; and here we are now, safe and sound. And, faith, I hope you won't be trying it again in a hurry." Bert was very much in earnest when he assured him he would not, and still more in earnest when he BEBT Lloyd's boyhood. 205 tried to express his gratitude. But Connors would none of it. " Not at all, not at all, my boy," said he, with a laugh. " A fine young chap like you is well worth siiving any day, and it's not in John Connors to stand by and see you drown, even if those black-faced fur- riuers don't know any better." ^f^m^mmmi'^^ m. liiHiiiil 'iiii'ii ! |!(i j!: CHAPTER XXI. LEARNING TO SWIM. BERT'S appearance, when he made his way home witli dripping clothes, and face still pale from what he had undergone, created no small consterna- tion. His sister was particularly alarmed, and it took some time to convince her that, once having gotten out of the grasp of the greedy water, he was really in* no more danger. Had she been permitted to have her own way, she would have bundled liim off to bed forthwith, and filled up any little corners inside of him that the sea water had left unoccupied, M'ith warm raspberry vinegar. But Bert would none of it, and Mrs. Lloyd, although a good deal startled at first, soon recovered her self-possession sufficiently to agree with him, when he insisted that all he wanted was some dry clothes and a rest. The dry clothes were quickly furnished, and havintj put them on, he returned to the sitting room to tell them all about his rescue, Frank being at hand to fill in anv details that he missed in the recital. The tears stood in his mother's eyes, as he related what lie had felt and thought during those eventful moments when his life hung in the balance; tears of distress, of sympathy, of joy, and finally of gratitude, as in 206 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 207 glowing words he described bow noble John Connors liiul dived away down into the dark green depths to rescue liim just in the nick of time. " Oil, Bert darling," she exclaimed, when he had finished, folding him to her breast, "how good God was to send dear brave Connors to your help! We cannot praise him enough, and, dearest, don't you tliink he must intend you to be something good and great for him, when he thus spared your life? And tliut dear man Connors ! — I feel as though I could kiss the hands that drew vou from the water. Your father must go to-night, and tell him how grateful we are ; and he must do more than that — he must reward him well for runnino; such a risk to save our bov." When Mr. Lloyd came home and learned what had happened, he made no pretence of concealing his emotion. The very thought of losing in that dread- ful wav the bov who was the iov and pride of his life filled him with horror, and no words could express his fervent gratitude to Connors, and to God, for sending so courageous a rescuer. So soon as dinner was over he set off in search of him, taking Bert with liiin. Connors's home was easily found, and Connors himself sat smoking his evening pipe upon the door step, as unconcernedly as though he had done nothing out of the way that afternoon. The object of Mr. Lloyd's visit was soon made known, but he found more difficulty than he expected in giving such expression as he desired to the gratitude • ';V.B i II ■V' i\ I mi^:^< imm liiiill; I ill 208 BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. he felt. Connors was quite willing to be thanked, and accepted Mr. Lljyd's fervent words with a re- spectful acquiescence that well became him, but wlieu Mr. Lloyd broached the subject of a more taiigil)le reward, Connors quite as respectfully, but very firmly, refused. " I want no reward for saving your boy, sir. It's proud I am of pulling so fine a boy as that out of the water. I did no more than you'd do for my boy, sir, if he were in the same scrape," said he, in reply to Mr. Lloyd's delicately worded offer. "That may be, Connors. I'm sure I would do you say, but all the same I would feel much lu^.c comfortable if you would accept this purse as some expression of my gratitude,'' urged Mr. Lloyd. " And, thanking you kindly, sir, I'd feel much more comfortable if I didn't take it," returned Con- nors, in a tone tiiere was no mistaking. So Mr. Lloyd, resolving in his mind that he would find out some other way of rewarding the worthy fellow, said uo more then, and shortly after took his leave. As Bert and his father walked home together they were still talking about the event of the afternoon. " If you had been drowned, Bert, it would to some extent have been rav fault," said Mr. Llovd : " for I should not have so long neglected teaching you to swim. A boy of yoiu* age ought to be well able to take care of himself in the water, and I should have seen that you were. However, now that this escape BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 209 thanked, ,ith a re- but when } tangible jry firmly, , sir. It's out of the y boy, sir, u reply to ould do iiuch lu/.c SB as some oyd. feel much irned Con- Mr. Lloyd, out some sv, said no rether they fteruoon. lid to some Ivd; ''for [nor you to ;U able to lould have :his escape of yours has waked me up, I will attend to the matter at once. So we will begin to-morrow morning, . Bert, and have a swimming lesson every day before breakfast." " Oh, father; Fm so glad," exclaimed Bert,skipping about iovfullv. " I want to know how to swim ever SO much, and I'll soon learn if you'll teach me." " All right, my boy. You see to waking me in good time, and I'll see that you learn to swim," re- plied Mr. Lloyd, clapping Bert affectionately on the back. The next morning at six o'clock Bert was rapping loudly on his father's door, and cidling upon him to get lip, and a quarter of an hour later the pair with towels on their arms were off in the direction of a secluded, deserted wharf that would just suit their purpose. • . On arriving at this place, Mr. Lloyd showed Bert how he proposed to teach him to swim, and it cer- tainly was about as excellent a wav as could well have been devised. He had brought with him two things besides the towels : a piece of roj)e about the thickness of a clothes line, and ten vards or more in length, and a strong linen band, two yards in length. The linen band he put round Bert's shoulders in such a way that there was no possibility of its slipping, or interfering with the action of his arms ; and then the rope was so fastened to the band that when Bert was iu the water his father, standing on the wharf above o iMi % !i-«f|MfV-^ 210 BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. liim, could hold him in just the right position for !'ii! i ! '"'I'll iiilli ill swnninincr. The preparations iiaving been completed, Bert was bidden descend the steps and plunge into the water. He started ofif bravely enough, but when he readied the bottom step he hesitated. The water was at least ten feet in depth beneath him, and he had never been " over his head," as they say, before, except when he came so near being drowned. Naturally, therefore, he shrank from committing himself to the deep in tiiis fashion, "Well, Bert, what's the matter? Are you afraid the water is too cold ? " asked his father, as he noticed his hesitation. "No, sir; not exactly,'^ answered Bert, feeling half ashamed of himself. " You're afraid it's too deep, then ? " suggested Mr. Lloyd. And Bert looked up with a smile that showed he had hit the mark. "Never mind, ray boy," said Mr. Lloyd, cheer- ingly. " You're all right. I won't let go of you. Jump in like a man." Bert hung back a moment; then, shutting his raouth tightly and closing his eyes, he sprang boldly into the cool, green water. He went under a little at first, but a slight tug on the rope brought him quickly to the top, and recovering his breath and his self-pos- session at the same time, he struck out with his arras and kicked with his legs, according to the best of BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 211 ition for Bert was [le water. B readied IS at least ever been when he therefore, .>ep in tins ^ou afraid he notieed peling half ested Mr. Iiat showed [yd, cheer- :o of you. putting ills iiig boldly a little at lira quickly lis ?elf-pos- h his arras le best of his ability. His motions were sadly unskillful, as may be easily imagined, and although they used up his strength pretty rapidly, they would not have kept his head above water for a minute; but a gentle pressure on the rope in Mr. Lloyd's hand made that all right, and, feeling quite at his ease, Bert struggled away until he was tired out, and then his father, who had all the time been cheering and directing him, drew him back to the steps, and the lesson was over. "You did very well, Bert; very well, indeed," said he, in tones of warm approval, as Bert proceeded. to rub off the salt water and get into his clothes again. " I don't think it will take a great many lessons to make a swimmer of vou." And Mr. Lloyd's confidence was well founded ; for so earnestly did Bert give himself to the business of learning to swim that by the end of a fortnight he could go ten yards out and back without any help from the rope at all. Another fortnight and the rope was no lony-er needed. Mr. Llovd now went into the water with Bert, and, swimming out to the middle of the dock, would have the boy come to him, and after resting upon his broad shoulders a moment, malie his way back to the steps again. Thus, in little more than a month, Bert became quite able to take care of himself in the water under ordinary circumstances; and his father, feeling well satisfied with his proficiency, gave him liberty to go 'ii''Sr" I '' !l!i;ii|!i iil I I! III! iililil " I iiiiiiiii m 212 BERT LLOYD d BOYHOOD. to the wliarvos as often as he pleased — a boon lint liiglily appreciated. A plcasnre unshared by his faithful Frank was but half a pleasure to Bert. Next in importance to iiis being able to swim himself was Frank's acquiring the same invaluable accomplishment. Invaluable? Yes, one might indeed rightly use a stronger term, and say indispensable; for the education of no boy is com- plete until he has mastered the art of swimming. And if the boys knew their own interests as thoroughly as their j)arents and guardians ought to know tliem, th(y would agitate all over the land for the provision of swimming baths in connection with their schools, or in some otlier way that would ensure them the oppor- tunity of learning what to do with themselves in the water, as well as upon the land. Frank could swim a stroke or two before Bert took him in hand, and consequently was soon able to dis- pense with the rope ; but timid little Ernest Linton, who was the next pupil, took a lot of teaching, and tliere seemed siiHall prospect of his conquering his timidity sufficiently to "go it alone" before the swim- ming season v.ould be over. The fame of Bert's swimming school spread among his playmates to an extent that threatened to be em- barrassing. By the time they were half way througli the midsummer holidays, a crowd of boisterous young- sters gathered every morning at the old wharf, and struggled for the use of band and rope, until at last T" BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 213 n IV rt vas but I to liis rin^ the ? Yes, and say is c(»iu- g. And uglily as lem, they vision of >ol.s, or in le oppor- ^^es in the ►ert took le to dis- t Linton, hing, and jering his :lie swim- lad among Ito be cm- ly through lus young- ^harf, and Itil at last llicr'^ had to l)c several of these provided. Then they iiiid fine fun. A dozen boys would be in the water at tlie siinie time — some of them exjxjrt swimmers, the others in all stages of learning — and there would be races, splashing matches, unex[)eet(Hl duckings, sly tricks upon the nervous learnei*s, and all sorts of capers, such as might be expected from boys of tlieir aL-^e and enterprise. By way of deepening the interest in this healthful amusement, they organized a competition, the prizes being supplied by their parents, who were duly waited upon by a properly-authorized committee ; and one tine August afternoon, the sleepy old wharf was made to fairly tremble with excitement, as race followed race in quick succession, amid the cheering and shout- ing of some two-score vigorous boys. Much to his delight, Frank succeeded in carrying off the first prize. He was a persistent, painstaking fellow when his interest was thoroughly aroused, and while other chaps were skylarking about in the water, he had been practicing long swims, the consequence of which was that at the competition — when, of course, the best prize was given for the longest mce; the course, in this instance, being out to the head of the wharf, and back — Frank left all the other contestants behind, and came in an easy winner. Bert was exceedingly pleased. He had not w'on any prizes himself, except an unimportant little second one ; but Frank's success more than consoled him, and 214 BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. !l i! ! I'.lllliilli he bore him oif home with him in high glee, that the family might share in the joy of the occasion. Nearly two years now had passed since the two friends first made one another's acquaintance, and the course of events had fully confirmed the expectation of Bert's parents, that he would be far more likely to influence Frank for good than Frank would be to influence him for evil. There had been unmistakable improvement in Frank, both in manners and morals. Constant as-sociation with a playmate brought up under home influences so diff'erent from his own ; the wise and kindly words that Mr. and Mrs. L.'oyd lost no opportunity of speaking to him ; the refinement and brightness of their home; the atmosphere of sunny religion that pervaded it ; and all these supplemented by an ever interesting presentation of common-sense Christianity at the hands of Mr. Silver every Sunday afternoon, had worked deep into Frank's strong, stead- fast nature, and without being distinctly conscious of it himself, he was growing refined, pure, and religious in thought and desire, like those with whom it was the joy of his life to associate. The current of his being had been turned Godward, and in him, though he knew it not, Bert had won the first star for his crown. that the the two and the pectation likely to Id be to istakable I morals. up under the wise i lost no nent and of sunny ilemented Qon-scnse y Sunday ng, stead- iscious of I religious im it was !nt of his n, though ar for his CHAPTER XX EI. HOW HOISTING WAS ABOLISHED. THE month of September was close at hand, and Bert would soon begin his second year with Dr. Johnston. Mr. Lloyd, though well content with the progress his son had been making in his studies, thought it would be a wise thing to hold out some extra inducement that might incite him to still greater diligence, and so one evening, while the family were sitting together, he broached the subject : " Dr. Johnston giyes a lot of prizes at the end of the term, doesn't he, Bert ? " "Yes, sir, a good many; always books, you know," answered Bert. '• Why didn't you get a prize of some kind last term ? " asked Mr. Lloyd, with a smile. "Oh, I don't know, father. Didn't try hard enough, I suppose," replied Bert, smiling in his turn. "Well, do vou intend to try this term, Bert?" "Indeed I do; and Frank's going to try, too. My best chance is in the arithmetic, so I'm going to try C ,\ , -11, . . /« J, I mar. going grami "Very well, then, Bert, do your best; and if you win a prize I will give you what you have wanted so long — ; a pony 216 216 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. The expression of Bert's counteuance at this quite unexpected announcement was a study. His eyes and mouth, the former with surprise, the latter with a smile, opened to their fullest extent, and for a monent he stood mctiouless. Then, springing across the floor, he leaped into his father's lap, put both arms around his neck, and burying his happy face in the brown whiskers, ejaculated, fervently : "You dear, dear father, you dear, dear father, how I do love vou ! " Mr. Lloyd returned the aifectionate hug with in- terest, and then, holding Bert out on his knee, said, in a playful tone : "Aren't you in too much of a hurry about thank- ing me, Bert ? You haven't won your pony yet, you know?" " That's all right, father," returned Bert. " I mean to win it, and what's more, I'm going to." It need hard I v be said that the first item of news Eert had for his friend Frank next morning was iiis father's offer. " Won't it be splendid to have a pony of my very own I" he exclaimed, his eyes dancing with delight at the prospect. "Perhaps your father will give you a pony, too, if you win a prize ; hey, Frank ? " Frank shook his head dubiously : "Not much chance of that, Bert. That's not his way of doing things." " Oh, well, never mind. You can ride turn about BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 217 with me ou miue, and we'll have just splendid fun." As the boys were talking together, little Ernest Linton approached, looking as if he liad something on his mind. Getting close to Bert, he touched him gently on tiie arm to attract his attention, and, turning a very earnest, appealing face to his, said : "Bert, I want to ask a favor." "Hallo, Ernie! what's up?" asked Bert, in his kindest tones. Ernest then proceeded to tell him that his younger brother, Paul, was to come to the school in a few days, and that he was a very timid, delicate little ciiap, that would be sure to be half frightened out of his life if they hoisted him ; and what Ernest wanted was that Bert and Frank should see if they could not, in some way or other, save Paul from being hoisted. The two boys were filled with the idea at once. It was good enough fun to hoist sturdy fellows like themselves, who were none the worse for it ; but if Paul were the sort of chap his brother said he was, it would be a real shame to give him sucli a scare, and they would do their best to prevent its being done. Accordingly, they promised Ernest they would pro- tect his brother if they could, and Ernest felt very much relieved at their promise. But how were they going to carry it out? No exceptions had been made as to the hoisting since they had come to Dr. Johnston's, but all new boys were n— -^"wp^jwipi i i ill il ! 1 % 1 .ill 218 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. hoisted with perfect impartiality. They would be powerless by themselves, that was certain. Their only plan was to persuade a lot of the boys to join them, and they did not feel entirely sure about being- able to do this. However, the first thing to be done was to ask Teter Johnston. If they could enlist his sympathies, tlieir task would be a good deal easier. Accordingly, at recess they made directly for Teter, and laid the whole matter before him. Like themselves, he took hold of it at once. It was just the sort of thing that would appeal to his big, warm, manly heart, and without hesitation he promised the boys he would give them all the help in his power. The next step was to secure recruits for their party. In this Teter helped them greatly, and Frank was very active, too, because big Rod Graham, whom he disliked none the less, though Bert had thrashed him so soundly, always headed the hoisting party, and Frank looked forward with keen delight to balking this tormenting bully by means of the anti-hoisting party they were now organizing. Of course, the movement could not be kept a secret. It soon leaked out, and then Rod Graham and Dick Wilding — who, by the way, since the stolen money episode, had been as cool in his relations with Bert as he had previously been cordial, evidently resenting very much Bert's withdrawal from his companion- ship — tliese two, with their associates, began to organize in their turn, so that it was not long before BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 219 the school was divided iuto two parties, both of wliich were looking forward eagerly to the event which should decide which would have their own wav. On the Monday following the opening of tlie school Ernest Linton brought his brother with hiin, a slight, pale, delicate little fellow, not more tlian eight years old, wlio clung close to his brother's side, and looked about with a frightened air that was sufficient in itself to arouse one's sympathies. Bert and Frank had known him before, but Teter had never seen him, and his kind heart prompted him to go up and slap the little fellow kindly on the back, saying : "So you're Linton's Brother Paul, eh? Cheer up, little chap; we'll see they're not too hard upon you." Paul's pale face brightened, and looking up with a grateful glance, he said, softly : " Thank you, sir." Teter laughed at being " sirred," and went oflP, feel- ing quite pleased with himself. According to the custom of the school, Paul would be hoisted at the midday recess of the following day, and the boys looked forward eagerly to the struggle for which they had been preparing. During the morning their thoughts clearly were not upon the les- sons, and so many mistakes were made that the shrewd doctor suspected there must be something brewing, but preferred to let it reveal itself rather than to interfere by premature questions. He was a profound student of human nature, and especially of Vi 4 V 1' 220 3ERT Lloyd's boyhood. boy nature. He knew his boys as thoroughly as an Eastern shepherd ever knew his sheep. They were like open books before him, and in this perhaps more than in anything else lay the secret of his rare success as a teacher. When the eagerly expected recess came, all the boys, with the exception of a small group, poured out tumultuously into the street, and ranged themselves in two bands in close proximity to the door. The I'i'n . that remained consisted of the two Lintons, Bert, Frank, and Teter, the latter three constituting a bor^ of I ''-guard for poor timorous little Paul, wiio shrank iu terror from the ordeal, the nature of which in truth he did not fullv understand. Havinjs: con- suited together for a minute or two, the body-guard then moved out through the door, taking care to keep Paul in the middle. As thev emerged into the street, a kind of hum of suppressed excitement rose from the crowd awaiting them, followed immediately by cries of "Hoist him ! hoist him !" uttered first bv Graham and Wilding, and quickly taken up by their sup- porters. Pale with fright, Paul cowered close to Teter, while Bert and Frank stood in front of him, and their sup- porters quickly encircled them. Then came tlie struggle. Graham and Wilding and their party bore down upon Paul's defenders, and sought to break their way through them to reach tiieir intended victim. Of course, no blows were struck. The boys all knew illillli !il: BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 221 better than to do that ; but pushing, hauling, wrestling, very much after the fashion of football players in a maul, the one party strove to seize Paul, who indeed offered no more resistance than an ordinary football, and the other to prevent his being carried off. Fop some minutes the issue was uncertain, although the hoisting party considerably outnumbered the anti- hoisting party. More than once did Graham and Wilding force their wav into the centre of Paul's defenders, and almost have him in their grasp, only to he tlirust awav again bv the faithful trio that stood about him like the three of whom Macaulay's ringing ballad tells : " How well Horatius kept the bridge. In the brave days of old." Shouting, struggling, swaying to and fro, the contest went on, much to the amusement of a crowd of spec- tators, among which the tall, blue-coated form of a policeman loomed up prominently, although he deigned not to interfere. At length the weight of superior numbers began to tell, and despite all their efforts the anti-hoisting party were borne slowly but surely toward the fence, upon which some of the boys had already taken their positions, ready to have Paul handed up to them. The case was looking desperate, and Teter, heated and wearied witii his exertions, had just said, in his deepest tones, to Bt^rt and Frank, "Come, boys, all together, try it once more," when suddenly a silence fell upon the noisy mob, and their ';^!l wi^ 222 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. arms, a moment l)efore locked in tense struggling, fell limply to tlieir sides ; for there, standing between them and the fence, his keen, dark face lighted with a curious smile, and holding his hand above his head by way of a shield from the hot sun, stood Dr. Johnston ! A genuine ghost at midnight could hardly have startled the boys more. Absorbed in their struggle, they had not seen the doctor until thev were fairlv upon him. For aught they knew he had been a spec- tator of the proceedings from the outset. What would he think of them ? Rod Graham and Dick Wilding, slaves to a guilty conscience, slunk into the rciir of their party, while Bert, and Frank, and Teter, glad of the unexpected relief, wiped their brows and ar- ranged their disordered clothing, as they awaited the doctor's utterance. It soon came. " I desire an explanation of this unseemly disturb- ance. The school will follow me immediately into the schoolroom," said he, somewhat sternly; and turning upon his heel went back to his desk, the boys following at a respectful distance. When all had been seated, and the room was quiet, Dr. Johnston asked : " Will the leaders in the proceedings outside come to my desk ? " There was a moment's pause, and then Teter rose from his seat, Bert immediately imitating him, and the two walked slowly down to the open space before the master's desk. BERT LLOYD'S BOYHOOD. 223 Having waited a minute, and no one else appearing, tlie doctor leaned forward and said to his nephew : " You and Lloyd were on the same side, were you not?" "Yes, sir," replied Teter. " Well, who were the leaders of the other side ? I wish to know." " Graham and Wilding, sir," answered Teter. " Graham and Wilding, come forward," called the doctor, sternly ; and the two boys, looking very con- scious and shamefaced, reluctantly left their seats and took their places before the throne. " Now, then, I wish to be informed of the whole matter," said the doctor. Bert looked at Teter, and Teter looked at Bert. " You tell him," he whispered ; " you know most about it." Thereupon, with the utmost frankness, Bert pro- ceeded to tell his story, beginning at his first talk with Ernest Linton. The doctor listened intently, his inscrutable face revealing nothing as to how the story impressed him. Wlien Bert had finished, he turned to Graham and Wilding, and asked them : " Is Lloyd's statement correct ? or have you any- thing to add?" They hung their heads, and were silent. The doctor looked very hard at them for a moment, during which the silence was so intense that the fall sill >': 'J i. ;h as he could and brin<2:ino^ it down until his nose touched his breast. He would then, as com- manded, **say his prayers," which he did by kneeling with his fore feet, and dropping his head upon his knees; "knock at the door," which meant going up to the nearest door, and knocking at it with his hoof until some one opened it ; " walk like a gentleman " — that is, rear up on his hind legs, and walk up and down the yard; "go to sleep," by lying down and shut- ting his big brown eyes tight ; shake hands by grace- r m '< llillr nil W^^ 246 BERT LIX)YD's BOYHOOD. fully extending his right hoof; allow a cap to be placed on his iiead and then sidle up and down tlie yard in the most roguish way; and otiier little tricks no less amusing, which never failed to elicit rounds of ap})lause from the deligiited spectators. rherv^ were nianv wavs in which Brownie endeared liimself to everv member of the Llovd familv. If Mrs. Lloyd or Mary happened to come into the yard when, as often happened, he was roaming about loose, he would go up to them and rub his nose gently against their slioulder, thus saying as plainly as could be, " Haven't you got a crust for me ? " and the mo- ment Mr. Llovd showed himself, Brownie's nose would be snuffing at his coat pockets for the bit of apple or lump of sugar that rarely failed to be there. As for his bearing toward Bert, it showed such affec- tion, obedience, and intelligence that it is not to be wondered at if the boy sometimes asked himself if the "Houvhnhnms" of Gulliver's Travels had not their counterpart in nature, after all. Great, then, was the concern and sorrow when, after he had been just a year with them, Brownie fell sick, and the veteriuarv suro-eon said that he must be sent away to the country to see if that would make liiru well again. Bert sobbed bitterly when the little in- valid was led away. He would have dearly loved to accompany Brownie, but that could not be managed, so there was nothing for it but to wait patiently at home for the news from the sick pony. BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 247 Uii happily, the reports were not cheering. Each time they were less hopeful, aud at last oue dull rainy clay that Bert was long in forgetting, 'the farmer came himself to say that despite his utmost care dear little Ijrowuie had died, and was now buried beneath a Nvillow tree in a corner of the pasture. Poor Bert I Tills was the first great grief of his life. Had Brownie been a human companion, he cculd hardly have felt his loss more keenly or sorrowed more sin- cerely. The little empty stall, the brass-mounted hriille, and steel-stirruped saddle hanging up beside it, brought out his tears afresh every time he looked upon them. Frank did his best to console him by offering him the use of his pony whenever he liked ; but, ah ! thougii " Charlie" was a nice enough pony, he could not fill the blank made bv Brownie's loss. In the mean time Mr. Lloyd had been making dili- gent inquiry about a successor to Brownie, and had come to the conclusion to await the annual siiipmcnt from Sable Island, and see if a suitable pony could not be picked out from the number. The announce- ment of this did much to arouse Bert from his low spirits, and as Mr. Lloyd told him about those Sable Island ponies he grew more and more interested. They certainly have a curious history. To begin with, nobody knows just how they got on that strange, wild, desolate, sand bank that rises from the ocean about a hundred miles to the east of Nova Scotia. Had they the power of speech, and were they asked 248 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. to give an account of themselves, they would proba- bly reply with Topsy that " they didn't know — tliey 'spects they grovv'd." There they are, however, to the number of several hundred, and there they have been ever since anybody knew anything about Sable Island. And suoli a place for ponies to be ! It is nothing bnt a bank of sand, not twenty-five miles long, by abont one and a half wide, covered here and tliere with patches of dense coarse grass, wild pea vine, and cran- berry swamps. There are no trees, no brooks, no daisied meadows, and throug-h all seasons of the voar the ponies are out exposed to the weather, whether it be the furious snow storms of winter, the burning heat of summer, or the mad gales of the autumn. Once a year the government officials who live upon the island, having charge of the lighthouses and relief stations, for it is a terrible place for wrecks, have what the Western ranchmen would call a "round- up" of the ponies. They are all driven into a big " corral " at one end of the island, and the best of the vounoer ones carefullv culled out, the rest beiu"; set free again. Those selected are then at the first oppor- tunity put on board a ship and carried off to Halifax, where rough, shaggy, ungrooraed, and untamed, they are sold at auction to the highest bidders. It was one of these ponies that Mr. Lloyd proposed to purchase for Bert. The latter was an expert rider now, and could be entrusted with a much more spirited animal than dear little Brownie. The arrival BERT Lloyd's boyhood. 249 of the annual shipment was accordingly looked forward to by both Bert and his father with a good deal of interest, Bert wondering if on the whole shipload there would be anytiiing to compare with Brownie, aiul Mr. Lloyd hoping that he would be able to obtain a pony big enough to carry him if he felt in the humor for a ride on a bright summer morning. ':f "1 CHAPTER XXV. ABOUT TWO KINDS OP PONIES. IN due time the Sable Island ponies arrived, and were announced to be sold by auction, at the Government Wharf. Taking Bert with him, Mr. Lloyd went down in time to have a good look at the shipment before the sale commenced, so that he might have his mind made up before beginning to bid. Thoy certainly were a queer lot of little creatures. Not a cuny-comb had touched their hides since they were born, nor had the shears ever been near their maiics or tails. Their coats were long, thick, and filled with dirt ; their manes and tails of prodigious length, and matted together in inextricable knots. They were of all colors, and within cei'tain limits of all sizes. Brown, bay, black, piebald, gray, and sorrel. There was no lack of variety ; and Mr. Lloyd and Bert wandered up and down the long line as they stoed tethered to the wall, scrutinizing them closely, and sorely puzzled as to which to decide upon. It was, of course, quite impossible to tell anything as to disposition, for all the ponies seemed equally wild and terrified at their novel situation ; but, after going over them carefully, Mr. Lloyd decided upon a very promising-looking black pony that stood near 250 . BERT LLOYD S BOYHOOD. 251 the middle of the row. He was of a good size, seemed to be in better condition, than many of those around him, had a well-shaped head, and altot so much so, and Bert liked to walk his pony up to the top, and then canter down the other side. One BERT LLOYDS BOYHOOD. 255 afternoon, just as he readied the siinimit, a little imp of a street gamin, probably by way of expressing the eiivv he felt for those who could afford to ride, threvv a stone at Sable, which struck him a stinging blow on the hindquarters. Like an arrow from the bow, the pony was otf. Taking the bit in his teeth, and straightening his head out, he went at full speed down the hill, Bert holding on for dear life with his heart in his mouth, and his hat from his head. In some way or other, he himself never knew exactly how, he got both liis feet out of the stirrups, and it was well for him he did, f)r just at \\\^ l>ottom (if the hill, when he M'as going like a greyliound. Sable stopped short, lowered his head, flung up his heels, and, without the slightest protest or delay, I^rt went flvincr from the saddle, and landed in the michlle of the dusty road in a sitting posture with his legs stretched out before him. The saucy pony paused just long enough to make sure that his rider was dis- posed of beyond a doubt, and then galloped away, apparently in high glee. Bert was not hurt in the least. He had never sat down quite so unexpectedly before, but the thick dust of the road made an excellent cushion, and lu; was soon upon his feet, and in full cry after the runaway. Thanks to a gentleman on horseback who had wit- nessed the whole scene, and went immcdiatclv in chase of Sable, the latter was soon recaptured, and Bert, having thanked his friend in need, and brushed 256 BERT Lloyd's boyhood. some of the dust from his clothes, remounted liis mis- chievous steed, and rode him for tlxe rest of the after- noon. After those two somewhat unpromising perfor- mances, Sable settled down into very good habits, and during all the rest of llie time that he was in Bert's possession did not again disgrace himself bv ru? .ig away or pitching any one off his back. lie never became the pet that Brownie had been, but he was, upon the whole, a more useful animal, so that Bert came to feel himself well compensated for his loss. About this time Bert made the acquaintance of a pony of a very different sort. How, indeed, it cani • lit have this name does not seem to be very clear, lui what natural connection can be established between a diminutive horse, and a discreditable method of re- ducing the difficulties of a lesson in Latin or Greek? It would appear to be a very unjust slur upon a very worth v little animal, to sav the least. Bert's first knowledge of the other kind of p)ny was when in the course of his study of Latin he came to read Sallust. Caesar he had found comparatively easy, and widi no other aid than the grammar and lexicon he could, in the course of an hour or so, get out a fair translation of the passage to be mastered. But Sallust iTJive him no end of trouble. There was somethimi: in the involved obscure stvle of this old historian that puzzled him greatly, and he was con- Btantlv being humiliated bv finding that when, after BFRT LLOYDS BOYHOOD. 257 niiicli labor, he had succeeded in making some sort of seii""e out of a sentence, Dr. Johnston wouhl pronounce his translatioji altogetiier wrong, and proceed to read it ill quite another way. As it happened, just when Bert was in the middle of those difficulties, Mr. Llovd was called awav from home on important business which entailed an absence lor many weeks, and consequently Bert was deprived of his assistance, whicli was always so willingly given. He lia