TOM TAD 
 
 WILLIAM HENRY
 
 . 4$P CALIF. LIBRARY. LOS
 
 " MR. TURTI.K \VII.I. \VAKK UI' AND HUMP HIMSELF."
 
 TOM TAD 
 
 By 
 
 W^illia m He nry V en able 
 
 AUTHOR OF " A History of the United 
 States," "A Dream of Empire," etc. 
 
 New Tork : 
 
 Dodd y Mead & Company 
 IQO2
 
 Copyright jgoa 
 BY DODD, MEAD & COMPANY 
 
 FIRST EDITION PUBLISHED 
 
 AUGUST, iqoa 
 
 THE CAXTON PRESS 
 NEW YORK.
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. BOYS IN THE WOODS 1 
 
 II. THE LAND " TORTLE " 7 
 
 III. CHAELIE BLOGSON'S LEG 12 
 
 IV. TOM AND HIS MOTHEE 17 
 
 V. THE AEEOW-HEAD HUNTEES 22 
 
 VI. SQUINTY RUNKLE AND OTHER SPECIMENS . . 27 
 
 VII. THE SHANTY-BOAT SUEPEISE 37 
 
 Vm. TOM TAKES A LESSON IN GEBMAN 43 
 
 IX. TOM IGNOEES SOCIAL DISTINCTIONS 47 
 
 X. TOM AND FEITZ CONVERSE 51 
 
 XI. TOM AND THE SHOW 56 
 
 XII. FIGHTING THE FRENCH ARMY 63 
 
 XIII. TOM LOSES His MORAL COURAGE 71 
 
 XIV. TOM LECTURES ON "ANIMALS AND So FOARTH " 84 
 XV. A RAID ON SQUIRE HOYLE'S ORCHARD ... 93 
 
 XVI. PRINCIPAL GADMETER'S SAGACITY 100 
 
 XVII. TOM GETS A FLOGGING 108 
 
 XVIII. BARCLAY PLAYS THE BEAU 118 
 
 XIX. SQUINTY'S VENGEANCE 130 
 
 XX. A MODEL SCHOOL EXAMINATION 140 
 
 XXI. THE RAIN DESCENDED AND THE FLOODS CAME 147 
 
 XXII. ADRIFT 157 
 
 XXIII. To THE RESCUE 164 
 
 XXIV. WASH BARTON'S LAST VOYAGK 178 
 
 XXV. HOME AGAIN 192 
 
 XXVI. SWEET GIRL GRADUATES 197 
 
 XXVII. LITERARY DIVERSIONS 209 
 
 v 
 
 2133456
 
 VI 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 XXVIII. SCOOMFOOZLE 218 
 
 XXIX. BARCLAY'S GUN 224 
 
 XXX. THE CABOL OF A MEADOW LARK 236 
 
 XXXI. THE UNION PICNIC 246 
 
 XXXII. KING'S Ex 265 
 
 2EXXTTI. TOM DISCOVERS NEW WORLDS 276
 
 Tom Tad 
 
 BOYS IN THE WOODS 
 
 "HELLO!" 
 
 "Hello yourself!" 
 
 " Why, Charley, is that you ? " 
 
 " 'Tain't anybody else. Didn't you know me, 
 Tom?" 
 
 " No ; I took you for a coon or a catamount. 
 What are you up there for ? " 
 
 " For fun ; I thought I saw a young squir'l go 
 in this hole ; but the holler don't go no f urder'n 
 I can reach, and there's no squir'l. But I see a 
 noriold's nes' out here on a limb. Come on up." 
 
 " That's not an oriole's nest, Charley." 
 
 "I bet you it is. Hurry, Tom. Let's play 
 circus. This limb is a trapeze. You hang on 
 to me and swing out, and I'll hold fast by one 
 leg." 
 
 " No ; play we was on a ship's mast, and that 
 
 1
 
 2 TOM TAD 
 
 there was a storm. Don't the wind feel nice 
 and cool to your face ? Whee ! don't she rock ! 
 I'm going to climb clean to the tip-top and stick 
 my head higher than the tree." 
 
 Tom clambered to the giddy outlook, clinging 
 to the swaying bough and peering out through 
 the dense foliage of the sugar maple which was 
 now his ship at sea. 
 
 "Who's that whistling? Sounds like Sam 
 Noggle. Look'e there ! I spy a gang by the 
 hollow sycamore. Can you see from where you 
 are?" 
 
 " Yes, now I do. Keep still, Tom, and watch 
 'em." 
 
 "They are coming this way, Charley. Hope 
 they won't look up and see us. Wisht I had 
 something to drop. Yes, there is Sam Noggle 
 and Seneca Snooks and Alic Thug, and the fellow 
 with the gun is Barclay Snooks. Right behind 
 him there's Squinty Runkle, following along as 
 if he was afraid of his own shadow." 
 
 " Hush up, Tom, or they'll hear." 
 
 "While the two arboreal youths kept a dead 
 silence, listening intently, the nomadic idlers 
 below, having sauntered within the shadow of 
 the tree, disposed themselves upon the ground in 
 easy attitudes. The most striking figure in the 
 vagabond group was that of a small-eyed, sallow 
 individual of seventeen or more, with warts on 
 his grimy hands, and a few reddish-yellow hairs
 
 BOYS IN THE WOODS 3 
 
 growing upon his chin, in patches, like tufts of 
 dead grass on a clay bank. He wore a long- 
 tailed nankeen coat, and the picturesque ruin of 
 a white hat of that variety vulgarly called 
 " plug." 
 
 Taking from his vest pocket a cheap cigar, he 
 bit off the end of it and lighted the weed with a 
 match, while the attendant ragamuffins gathered 
 closer around him, admiring his powers of suc- 
 tion and his gun. That gun ! How they longed 
 to possess such a weapon of destruction ! What 
 a privilege to be allowed to handle the coveted 
 firearm, if but for a second ! The jealous owner 
 was not easily induced to permit any one but 
 himself to touch the precious fowling-piece. 
 Squinty Eunkle imprudently ventured to pick it 
 up, raise it to his shoulder and, with eyes shut 
 and mouth open, take aim at things in general, 
 when the owner angrily shouted : 
 
 " Put that shooting-iron down ! Don't you 
 tetch it ag'in ! " 
 
 Squinty, in a flurry, laid the gun on the ground, 
 looking ashamed and penitent. 
 
 "Do you know what I'll do, young man, if 
 you tetch my gun ag'in ? " 
 
 Squinty stared helplessly at the other boys, in 
 mute trepidation. 
 
 "I'll rip off yer scalp." 
 
 "He wasn't hurting the gun, Barclay," hesi- 
 tatingly expostulated Seneca Snooks who, for
 
 4 TOM TAD 
 
 some reason, wished to appear the friend of 
 Squinty. 
 
 " You shet your gab, Sineca," was the reply, 
 accompanied by a box on the younger brother's 
 ear. " Jist let him tetch that shooting-iron, and 
 I'll peel the scalp off him with my bowie-knife, 
 like the red-skins used to scalp the whites in this 
 here Big Woods. There used to be millions of 
 Indians all around here. My gran'daddy lost his 
 scalp two or three times. But he had his revenge, 
 didn't he, Sineca ? " 
 
 The younger brother thus appealed to nodded 
 confirmation. 
 
 " How did he git his revenge ? " asked Sam 
 toggle. 
 
 " He coaxed the red-skins to come to his block- 
 house to git some whiskey, and about fifteen of 
 'em dropped to it, or wasn't it seventeen ? And 
 he let 'em drink whiskey until they was 
 dead drunk and asleep on their backs. Then he 
 poured melted lead down their throats, didn't he, 
 Sineca ? " 
 
 " Yes, he did ; lead and pewter." 
 
 " My gran'daddy was a big man in the war," 
 continued Barclay. "He shot two hundred 
 British with this very shooting-iron." 
 
 Sam toggle's face plainly indicated that he 
 doubted the statement, but he did not deny it ; 
 he merely remarked, " Must be a mighty good 
 gun."
 
 BOYS IN THE WOODS 5 
 
 " I should say so. It has saved my life more 
 than once. Hain't it, Sineca ? " 
 
 Seneca hesitated but an instant and then re- 
 inforced Barclay's word with an emphatic, "I 
 bet it has." 
 
 " One day I was out alone in the woods, with- 
 out ary gun, when a tiger came bulging at me." 
 
 " A tiger, Barclay ! " said Sam, quizzically. 
 " There ain't no tigers in these woods." 
 
 " That was when we was living at Christians- 
 burg, more than twenty mild from here," replied 
 Barclay, knocking the ashes from his cigar. 
 
 " But there's no tigers in the United States." 
 
 " Look here, Sam, do you mean to tell me I'm 
 a liar ? This tiger that I'm telling you about 
 was a Siberian tiger that got loose from John 
 Kobinson's show and was bulging around the 
 woods fer something to eat, and then's when it 
 came at me. I hadn't ary gun or ary knife. So 
 I picked up a club and I went fer that beast. 
 We had it nip and tuck fer more than two hours. 
 At last I got a fair lick and stunned him, and 
 hollered to a man to fetch some rope, and we 
 tied him that is I tied him, fer the man was 
 afeard to help. That man turned as white as a 
 sheet when he seed the tiger. Well, I wrote a 
 letter to John Robinson down at Cincinnati, and 
 he came up and got his blasted old tiger. He 
 paid me a thousand dollars fer that animal, 
 didn't he, Sineca ? "
 
 6 TOM TAD 
 
 "More'n a thousand," testified the faithful 
 younger brother. 
 
 " No ; jist a cool thousand." 
 
 " "What a liar he is ! " whispered Tom to his 
 comrade in the tree-top. 
 
 " He knows they're afraid to deny anything 
 he says," answered Charley. " I believe he'd 
 just as soon kill a boy as look at him." 
 
 "Where shall we go next, Barclay?" asked 
 Sam toggle. "What's the matter of you all 
 comin' down to the river with me and go in 
 swimmin' ? " 
 
 " No. I'm going round by Tadmore's house, 
 on the hill, to try to get a pop at his dog. I'd 
 like to shoot that dog, or pizen it, to get even 
 with their Dutchman w'at ordered me out of the 
 water-millon patch. Little Tom is a sassy cub, 
 and the whole pack of Tadmores is proud. That 
 gal Hanner is mighty stuck up ; she won't look 
 at a workin' man." 
 
 " She's good lookin', if she is stuck up," said 
 Alic. 
 
 " That won't save the dog if I kin draw a bead 
 on him with this," muttered Barclay, laying his 
 warty paw on the gun.
 
 II 
 
 THE LAND "TORTLE" 
 
 WITH rapidly beating heart, Tom, from his 
 perch, heard these sentences concerning his home 
 folks and his dog. What more Barclay might 
 have said was interrupted by a shout from 
 Squinty Kunkle, who, after his humiliating ad- 
 venture with the gun, had rambled off by him- 
 self. While tramping about in the weeds and 
 tall grass, he struck his foot against a solid object 
 and, stooping, discovered a queer animal which 
 he picked up and held to the view of the idlers 
 under the tree. 
 
 " It's a land tortle ! " he cried. 
 
 " Danged if it isn't ! " was the corroborative 
 exclamation of Thug. " Bring him here, 
 Squinty." The four squatters scrambled to their 
 feet and crowded around Squinty when that re- 
 joicing juvenile fetched the captured reptile near 
 the maple. 
 
 " Le'me cut my name on his back," was the 
 proposal of the elder Snooks, as he cast aside the 
 stump of his cigar. 
 
 " No," protested the proprietor of the captive ; 
 " cut my name ; he ain't your tortle." 
 
 7
 
 8 TOM TAD 
 
 " He's mine if I'm a mind to take him away 
 from you. Lay him down here, and le's look at 
 him." 
 
 The intimidated Squinty obeyed. Sam Nog- 
 gle looked on with manifest disapproval of Bar- 
 clay's despotism, but did not interfere. As for 
 Thug and the lesser Snooks, they were reduced 
 to serfdom. 
 
 "Now," proceeded Barclay, "I'll show you 
 fellers how you kin have some bully sport. 
 First, Alic, you go and kindle a fire in that 
 holler stump. Wait, here is some matches. 
 Squinty, you run and git a lot of dry leaves and 
 twigs. No ! hold on ! Bring them matches 
 back, Alic ; go along with Squinty, and you two 
 hurry up and fetch a pile of kindling, and I'll 
 tetch off the fire myself. Sineca, you stay here 
 and watch my gun, and keep your eye on that 
 tortle, and don't let him git away, or I'll wallop 
 you. D'ye hear ? " 
 
 The fire was soon blazing briskly and within 
 half an hour the dry wood of the stump was one 
 red glow. The pungent smoke rose among the 
 green boughs and greeted the nostrils and eyes 
 of Tom and Charley, like incense. Those ob- 
 servant witnesses were as curious as the terres- 
 trial party to learn what sort of sport Barclay 
 was about to begin. They were not kept long 
 in suspense. The brutal big boy deliberately 
 scraped a heap of burning coals upon a bark
 
 THE LAND " TORTLE " 9 
 
 shovel which he conveyed to the spot where the 
 stupid tortoise lay, on the ground, with head and 
 legs drawn within its shell which was shut up 
 like a box. 
 
 "Fetch him out here, Sineca, on the level 
 ground, and you'll soon see how Mr. Tortle will 
 wake up and hump himself when I put my card 
 on his back." 
 
 Tom and Charley, from their lofty seat in the 
 tree, like sylvan gods, looking down, saw Bar- 
 clay prepare to execute the plan of fiery torture 
 he had devised. 
 
 "Now look out fer fun, boys! Something 
 warm is about to drap on our friend. Didn't I 
 tell you so ? See him pop his head out to see 
 what's the matter ! He can't holler, or I swow 
 he'd yell like - 
 
 " Take the coals off his back and let him go ! " 
 
 These words rang loudly from above. To say 
 that the group on the earth was startled by this 
 order from the sky is not to say enough. They 
 were amazed. It was as if the dumb victim of 
 persecution had drawn out of heaven a voice of 
 mercy. 
 
 " Take the coals off his back and let the tortle 
 go ! " Barclay and his companions staring up 
 saw Tom and Charley in the top of the tree. 
 Tom's was the voice they heard. 
 
 " What business is it of yourn ? " yelled Bar- 
 clay.
 
 10 TOM TAD 
 
 "It's anybody's business. You ought to be 
 ashamed to play a mean trick like that. How 
 would you like to have hot coals put on your 
 back? It ain't fair. Why don't you take a 
 tortle of your own size, you ornery brute ? " 
 
 " What's that you say ? " 
 
 "You're an ornery brute, I say, and a cow- 
 ard." 
 
 "Coward! Gi'me that gun, Sineca. Blast 
 me if I don't shoot that kid's head off." Saying 
 this he made a feint of carrying out the threat 
 and actually pointed the gun at Tom ; he even 
 went so far as to cock it. Charley Blogson was 
 desperately frightened. Tom's excitement was 
 defiant and reckless. 
 
 " Don't, Barclay," interposed Alic. " Don't 
 point the gun at him ; it might go off " 
 
 " Shoot if you dare ! " cried Tom. " You are 
 afraid to shoot! You are all cowards or you 
 would take the tortle's part! Shoot if you 
 dare!" 
 
 "And I will shoot!" 
 
 The next instant he did shoot, but took care 
 to direct the muzzle of the piece so that the dis- 
 charge would not be likely to injure the human 
 game that he wished only to terrify. Now it 
 happened that the rusty gun was overloaded and 
 it had not been fired for a long time. It went 
 off, with a tremendous explosion, and with so 
 violent a kick that Barclay was thrown back-
 
 THE LAND "TORTLE" 11 
 
 ward to the ground and fell upon the very coals 
 provided for " waking up " the smaller brute, 
 which in the general confusion escaped to covert 
 in the cool grass. That Barclay " humped him- 
 self " to avoid a scorching, his friends were not 
 sorry to see. His bruises and sundry holes burnt 
 in his long-tailed coat were not the most alarm- 
 ing effect of Barclay's rashness. A stray shot of 
 the handful that flew into the air hit Charley 
 Blogson in the leg, causing that hapless child to 
 howl with pain and shriek that he was killed. 
 Barclay, as soon as he could get upon his feet, 
 took to his heels, as did likewise his brother, 
 with Squinty Kunkle and Alic Thug. Sam Nog- 
 gle lingered until Tom and Charley descended 
 from the tree. Satisfied that neither of them 
 was seriously hurt, his mind was relieved. Still 
 bearing in his memory the accusation of coward- 
 ice which Tom had hurled at the whole gang, 
 Sam felt it due to his self-respect to show resent- 
 ment. 
 
 " I can whale you both," he said, " and two 
 more like you." After which sociable remark, 
 he indulged in a war-whoop such as he imagined 
 the Indians give when they rush to battle ; then 
 he scudded away through the thick woods to 
 join the retreating forces of chieftain Barclay 
 Snooks.
 
 Ill 
 
 OHAELEY BLOGSON'S LEG 
 
 " CHARLEY, do you think you can walk as far 
 as our house ? Is your leg much hurt ? Maybe 
 you'll have to have it cut off. Uncle Felix is a 
 sargeant, you know, and he will saw it off for 
 you for nothing. Pull up your trouse's-leg and 
 let's see the woun'. Here it is in the hind calf 
 of your ankle. There's a blue spot and some 
 blood. Does it pain ? " 
 
 " No, not much yet, but I'm afraid the shot 
 will pizen my blood. Doctor Blumas says there's 
 ars'nic in shot and a boy once died after s waller- 
 ing a bullet. I'd hate to have that leg took off, 
 Tom. Do you really think there is any danger ? 
 It must be dreadful to have them saw off your 
 live leg." 
 
 The boys trudged along, up hill and down 
 dale, over logs and through tangled underbrush, 
 talking as they went, Charley's mind sorely 
 troubled with misgivings that the shot might 
 " pizen " his blood, in which case he would be 
 obliged to suffer a surgical operation. 
 
 " If I have to have my leg took off, would they 
 hang Barclay ? " 
 
 12
 
 CHARLEY BLOGSON'S LEG 13 
 
 ' Of course ; of course they would. They 
 might hang Seneca too, and Squinty, and Sam, 
 for they looked on and encouraged Barclay to 
 shoot. The law says that an assistant in a mur- 
 der case is just as bad as the head murderer." 
 
 " I wish they would hang 'em," said Charley, 
 " or put 'em in jail anyway. But I hate to have 
 your uncle saw it off." 
 
 " It don't hurt as much as you might think to 
 have your leg or arm cut off. The meat under 
 the skin hasn't any feeling, the physiology book 
 says. You can jab a fork into the lean meat or 
 muscle, and not know it. Then the bone won't 
 hurt either, but you'll hate the sound of the saw. 
 Bone is just like wood." 
 
 Miss Hannah Tadmore was the first to greet 
 Tom when he and the melancholy Blogson came 
 across the lawn in front of the house. She had 
 been anxiously awaiting her brother's return. 
 So had his mother and his aunt. They were all 
 much relieved to see the boy, but not quite so 
 glad he had brought Charley with him. 
 
 " Why Tom, where in the world have you been 
 all day ? Mother has needed you to split kin- 
 dling and to bring up coal." 
 
 "Has she? What's the hired man for? It 
 hurts my back, and makes my head ache, to 
 carry up that heavy coal hod, and it's so far to 
 go for kindling, clean down to the shop. But 
 I'll tend to it. Where's Uncle Felix ? "
 
 14 TOM TAD 
 
 " He went out with his beating-net to catch 
 bugs. Yonder he is in the meadow. Are you 
 not hungry, you and Charley ? Come in and 
 get some pie ; I'll tell mother and aunty you are 
 found." 
 
 "We weren't lost. We will be there in a 
 minute. First I must see Uncle Felix ; Charley 
 has some business with him." 
 
 " Can't Charley wait until after you eat lunch ? 
 uncle will soon be back. Shall I run and call 
 him while you eat ? " 
 
 " No, no ; we'll go ourselves. We'll be back 
 in a second." 
 
 They soon came near Uncle Felix, whom they 
 found intently examining a beetle he had just 
 caught. 
 
 " Oh, Uncle Felix," began Tom, almost out of 
 breath, " his leg is hurt." 
 
 " Not a bit of it," replied the uncle, inspecting 
 the specimen in his fingers. " Not a bit of it, 
 Tom, all six of his legs are perfect." 
 
 Charley Blogson, whose thoughts were con- 
 cerned with his own walking appendages, won- 
 dered how Tom's uncle could indulge in such 
 crazy levity concerning the number of a boy's 
 
 " I mean Charley ; I don't mean the bug. His 
 leg is hurt." 
 
 " Not bug, but beetle ; you should never call a 
 beetle a bug. Have I not often explained to
 
 CHAELEY BLOGSON'S LEG 15 
 
 you the difference? Now pay attention. A 
 beetle " 
 
 " Yes, I know, but Uncle Felix, look'e here. 
 Charley Blogson is shot in the leg by a gun, and 
 might of been killed by old Barclay and he's 
 afraid it will poison his blood and mortify, 
 maybe, so that he will have to have it took off." 
 
 " What are you taking about ? Mortify ? Is 
 this the boy ? Who is hurt ? Are you the boy ? 
 Are you Blogson ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'm, I mean sir," stammered Charley, 
 much confused and frightened, for he now re- 
 pented that he had rushed upon his fate. " Do 
 you think it will have to do you think you will 
 have to will I have to have it took off ? " 
 
 " Let me see the wound. Lie right down upon 
 the grass. You were inconsiderate, Tom, to 
 bring him here if he is much injured. Why 
 didn't you stop at the house ? Don't be scared, 
 Charley, lie down and I will examine." 
 
 Pale and trembling the sufferer obeyed and, 
 having stretched himself on his back, he care- 
 fully pulled up the left leg of his trousers. Tom 
 made haste to point out the little red spot on a 
 brown and stalwart calf. 
 
 " Is that all ? " asked the operator, not able to 
 restrain his laughter. With what grateful joy 
 did Blogson hear the slighting remark ! Uncle 
 Felix took from a small case of instruments a 
 pair of tiny forceps with which he picked a bird-
 
 16 TOM TAD 
 
 shot from its shallow lodgment just under the 
 skin of Blogson's leg. 
 
 Charley arose and, casting a sheepish glance 
 at Dr. Eldon, beckoned Tom aside. " Don't tell 
 anybody." Then, speaking aloud, " I've got to 
 hurry home and fetch in the cows from the pas- 
 ture. Good-bye."
 
 nr 
 
 TOM AND HIS MOTHER 
 
 TOM made a bee-line for the house, ravenous 
 for pie. At the dining-room door he was met 
 by his mother, his aunt and his sister. The mother 
 surveyed him with looks of reproof and bid him 
 wash his hands and face ; the aunt scanned his 
 torn garments and threw up her hands as though 
 speech failed her; the sister cut the pie into 
 quarters and put one of them on a big plate for 
 Tom. 
 
 " Have you got any buttermilk ? " The butter- 
 milk was at hand. The amount of refreshments 
 that Tom managed to convey to his interior was 
 enormous, considering the dimensions of the 
 boy. 
 
 Tom quitted the table, kissed Han, and went 
 out onto the porch where his mother was wait- 
 ing for him. 
 
 " My son, did you have something to eat ? " 
 
 " Yes, mother ; sister gave me a piece of pie 
 and a cup of buttermilk, and I can wait till 
 supper." 
 
 " Where have you been to-day ? " 
 
 " No place, particular." 
 
 17
 
 18 TOM TAD 
 
 " Can't you tell me where you were ? " 
 
 "Oh, no place at all, hardly; only just out 
 here in the woods, t'other side of the Emperor." 
 
 " "What do you mean by that ? " 
 
 " Why, mother, don't you know the Emperor ? 
 the big tree that Uncle Felix named the Em- 
 peror, just out here in the edge of our woods ? " 
 
 " Were you no farther than that ? " 
 
 "Yes, I told you I was t'other side of the 
 Emperor. I was out with Charley Blogson try- 
 ing to get an oriole's nest ; and, oh, mother, we 
 saw a land tortle ! " 
 
 " You should not say ' tortle.' I wish you 
 would not run with boys like Blogson and take 
 their ways of speaking and their manners." 
 
 " Why mother, Charley Blogson is a mannerly 
 boy. He hardly ever talks bad grammar nor 
 slang. The worst thing he says is that he'll * be 
 dogged,' and that's not bad swearing." 
 
 " Tell me some more about how you spent the 
 day. I want you to give me a full account of 
 everything, just as it happened ; where you went, 
 who were with you, what you saw, what you did 
 and said, and all about it from beginning to end. 
 You don't talk to me as much as you used to." 
 
 " Well," began Tom, with a long breath and a 
 far-away look, as if laboring to recall the inci- 
 dents of the day, " I told you I was with Charley 
 in the woods." 
 
 "Yes, you said you were trying to get an
 
 TOM AND HIS MOTHER 19 
 
 oriole's nest. Was there anybody else with you 
 but Charley?" 
 
 " No, only me and Charley." 
 
 " You should say, ' only Charley and I.' " 
 
 " Charley was up a tree and I saw him there, 
 and I clumb up " 
 
 "You should not say * clumb.' Surely you 
 have been taught how to speak correctly." 
 
 " "Well, dim up, then." 
 
 " No, Tommy, not that ; there is no such word 
 as dim or dumb. You really must pay more at- 
 tention to your grammar. I will write a note to 
 Mr. Gadmeter. Go on with your story." 
 
 The boy gazed steadily in his mother's face for 
 a moment and saw that she was really grieved 
 with him, and troubled by his blunders. He 
 came to her, put his arms around her neck, and 
 said, very sincerely, 
 
 " Mother, don't look that way. You are the 
 nicest.". 
 
 It made him miserable to see her unhappy. 
 Yet he was forever causing her distress or 
 anxiety. She pushed back the curly hair from 
 his forehead and gave him a kiss of general for- 
 giveness, and again said, " Go on with your 
 story." 
 
 " I saw Charley up a tree, and I I clamb up 
 no " 
 
 "Climbed." 
 
 " That's what I say. I climbed up and set,
 
 20 TOM TAD 
 
 no, sot on a limb, and after while we saw Squinty 
 Runkle and some boys with a gun. They canie 
 up " 
 
 " Came up ? How ? Not up the tree ? " 
 
 " No, they came up and laid, no, lied down 
 under the tree, and was a talking, and we listened 
 and heard what they said, and they didn't know 
 we was up in the tree. And old Barclay 
 said 
 
 " Who is ' old Barclay ' ? You didn't mention 
 him before." 
 
 Didn't I ? Yes, he was there. Old Barclay 
 Snooks, and he said he was going around by our 
 house and try to shoot our dog." 
 
 " Shoot our dog 1 Who is this old man that 
 you tell me of, and why should he shoot Hugo ? " 
 
 " He isn't an old man ; we only call him old 
 Barclay. You thought I meant an old, old 
 trembly man, like Crazy Fish, the hermit, didn't 
 you? We were nearly in sight of his hut, 
 mother. I thought I saw the smoke of his 
 chimney." 
 
 " Whose chimney ? " 
 
 "Crazy Fish's. He lives all alone, in Mad- 
 man's Hollow, and they say he has piles of 
 money, but he goes in rags, and don't eat any- 
 thing hardly, and some think he steals children 
 and sells them." 
 
 "How did you learn all this? Who told 
 you?"
 
 TOM AND HIS MOTHER 21 
 
 " Oh, all the boys. I saw Crazy Fish once, 
 Charley and me, but we didn't go near him. If 
 you come close to him he throws a sort of pow- 
 der in your face and then you can't do nothing, 
 you can't move your legs or your arms." 
 
 "What nonsense you are talking, my child. 
 Say no more about this imaginary crazy man, 
 but finish what you were saying about the big 
 boy who wants to shoot our dog." 
 
 " Barclay, you mean." 
 
 " Well, go on ; what more did he say ? " 
 
 "He didn't say hardly anything else that I 
 could hear ; I was so high up in the tree. Pretty 
 soon he went away and we came down, and hur- 
 ried straight home." 
 
 " Is that all that happened ? " 
 
 Tom stared into the distance, as if striving 
 with all his powers to recollect whether anything 
 else did happen. His keen eye discerned the 
 gliding figure of sister Han, coming across the 
 lawn with a heap of roses in her apron. Run- 
 ning to meet her, he evaded the last question 
 which his mother had asked.
 
 THE AKROW-HEAD HUNTERS 
 
 THE sun was shining in at the window when 
 Hannah came as usual to wake Tom. 
 
 "Breakfast is ready; you'd better hurry or 
 the brown gems will be cold. Uncle is going 
 on an excursion up the river." 
 
 Tom looked at Han with wide open eyes. 
 
 "Tell him to wait for me. I'll be down in 
 just a second. Tell Uncle Felix to wait." 
 
 Away danced Hannah, singing as she went, 
 and Tom came bounding after her, in a partially 
 buttoned-up and wholly unkempt condition. 
 
 " Where's Uncle Felix ? " 
 
 " He's in the library with father. He says 
 you may go along with him. Eat your breakfast 
 and get ready." 
 
 Dr. Felix Eldon was a bachelor of independent 
 fortune, who made his home with the Tadmores. 
 He was an excellent scholar, with a scholar's 
 tastes and habits, and chose to devote his time 
 mainly to scientific pursuits. Tom frequently 
 accompanied him in rambles with the beating- 
 net, and spent hours in the library, looking on 
 while the skilful naturalist prepared choice 
 22
 
 THE ARROW-HEAD HUNTERS 23 
 
 specimens for his collection, impaling the labeled 
 insects on long slender pins, and arranging them 
 in boxes with glass covers. As a result of these 
 associations, the boy picked up a superficial and 
 miscellaneous knowledge consisting for the most 
 part of Latin names. It added greatly to his 
 self-esteem to be able to call a pinch-bug Pas- 
 solus Cornutus, and to speak of a green tiger- 
 beetle as Cecindela Sexgutata. 
 
 "I have planned an excursion up the river 
 principally to look for arrow-heads. I mean to 
 take Tom along." 
 
 "I wish," remarked the father, "you would 
 teach him something more useful than picking 
 up arrow-heads and mussel shells. My opinion 
 is that you and Eliza are spoiling the boy." 
 
 At that moment Mrs. Tadmore entered the 
 library. Tom followed her, carrying a basket 
 which contained an abundant supply of biscuits, 
 cheese, boiled eggs, sardines and pickled cucum- 
 bers, besides a dozen big apples and a bottle of 
 cold coffee. 
 
 " Take good care of him, brother, and don't 
 let him get into the river and drown, or fall 
 from a tree and break his neck." 
 
 " Nome," broke in Tom, eagerly replying for 
 his uncle, " Nome." 
 
 " Don't run foolhardy risks, my son ; the river 
 is treacherous. Remember Carl Meyer and how 
 he was drowned near the mouth of Glen Creek."
 
 24 TOM TAD 
 
 These warning words of a fond mother were 
 supplemented by her husband's not less earnest 
 admonition. 
 
 "Yes, Tom, mind your mother's advice. Do 
 not venture out on those coal-barges; the cur- 
 rents that sweep between them are dangerous ; 
 the best swimmer might be sucked under as Carl 
 was. Are you paying attention to me ? " 
 
 "Yes, father, I'll be careful; I always am 
 careful. You needn't bother. I know all about 
 suck-holes and eddies and undertow. Carl was 
 a dandy swimmer, but he must have got the 
 cramps, I guess. Sam Noggle helped pull him 
 out and roll him on a bar'l, but they couldn't 
 fetch him to. You ought to see Sam dive under 
 a barge ! Water can't drown him ! Hurry up, 
 Uncle Felix, I've been waiting for you a year ! " 
 
 Dr. Eldon took his hat and some implements 
 which he always carried on jaunts of the kind 
 proposed, and the two scientific explorers started. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Tadmore watched them march 
 briskly away. 
 
 " What a darling he is ! " remarked the mother 
 to herself. 
 
 " Who ? " grunted Mr. Tadmore. 
 
 "Why, Tom. The dear little fellow is so 
 frank and truthful and generous. Nobody can 
 be angry with him. He loves everybody and 
 everything." 
 
 " Custard pie, in particular."
 
 THE ARROW-HEAD HUNTERS 25 
 
 " Yes, custard pie ; but he likes sour things as 
 well as sweet. He told me this morning that he 
 liked his father." 
 
 " Did he, Eliza ? Nonsense. Hannah is worth 
 a baker's dozen of Tom." 
 
 The specimen-hunters set out at a lively pace, 
 on the road to Forest Glen, but they were 
 destined to another delay before escaping from the 
 Tadmore premises. The hired man, Fred Haber- 
 korn, caught a glimpse of them from the field in 
 which he was at work, and, rushing to meet 
 them, gave Tom a huge hug and then shook both 
 his hands saying with a gutteral laugh of love 
 and pleasure : 
 
 " Good-bye, Herr Tom ! You vas go walking 
 mit yoar uncle dees day ? Ja wohl ! Dot vas 
 blenty fun, eh ? " 
 
 " You bet, Fritz ; we are bound for the mouth 
 of Glen Creek to hunt specimunds." 
 
 The glad expression of the hired man's features 
 instantly gave place to a lugubrious look of con- 
 cern. He shook his head doubtfully and, ad- 
 dressing Dr. Eldon, uttered in broken English, 
 pretty much the same fears and counsels con- 
 cerning the perils of water, as had just been 
 urged upon Tom by his parents. The doctor 
 assured Fritz that no harm by flood or by field 
 should befall their common charge, and the 
 excursionists moved on. 
 
 " Fritz is an old granny ; he teases me to death
 
 26 TOM TAD 
 
 by liking me so much and taking care of me. 
 He is worse than mother. Ever since I broke 
 through the ice last winter he follows me every- 
 wheres. I wish he wasn't so affectionate and so 
 uneasy. I'm big enough to manage myself, I 
 reckon." 
 
 " I hope you are, Thomas, but you must not 
 be ungrateful to the old Dutchman. He means 
 well." 
 
 " I should say he does mean well and act well, 
 too. You oughtn't call Mr. Haberkorn an old 
 Dutchman. He is no Hollander; he's a full- 
 blooded high German. And he is a mighty 
 splendid scholar too, let me tell you, and an 
 awful brave fighter. Fritz is learning me the 
 German language so as I can read "Wilhelm Tell 
 in the original, and he knows the Erlking and 
 the Song of the Sword. He's got a bully scar 
 on his breast of a sabre cut ; and a bullet through 
 his leg. Once he showed me the breast scar, but 
 he says he wouldn't tell anybody else, for a man 
 mustn't brag of his woun's."
 
 VI 
 
 SQTTINTY RTTNKLE AND OTHER SPECIMENS 
 
 AMUSED by Tom's prattle, Dr. Eldon led the 
 way from the plateau on which stood the Tad- 
 more homestead, to Forest Glen, a scattered vil- 
 lage fringing the shore of the Ohio. The dis- 
 tance from the hilltop to the town was somewhat 
 more than a mile, as measured by the crooked 
 road of steep grade which the care-free pedes- 
 trians followed. They passed up the main 
 street, by the drug store, the Baptist Church, the 
 Union School House, then down a cross-street 
 running to the river. On a conspicuous corner 
 stood a two-story frame building, over the door 
 of which was painted the sign, " People's Saloon. 
 By Mike McStaver." Upon the pavement near 
 the entrance were several empty beer-kegs one 
 of which was utilized as a convenient seat by a 
 lazy youth, neither boy nor man, who, wearing 
 striped pantaloons, a soiled linen coat, and a 
 cheap wheat-straw hat, was smoking a " Slim 
 Jim " cigar, while he listened to some confiden- 
 tial communication from a not uncomely, gig- 
 gling damsel standing in the doorway. Another 
 girl, of bolder face, thrusting her head and 
 
 27
 
 28 TOM TAD 
 
 shoulders from, a second story window, was in 
 the act of calling down to her sister, when Tom 
 and his uncle walked by. 
 
 " Oh Rache ! Come right in ! Pa wants you." 
 
 "I'll come when I'm ready," replied the 
 nymph of the doorstep, "and not a minute 
 before." 
 
 The excursionists paid no attention to the pert 
 young women who stared at them saucily, but 
 Tom exchanged nods with the slovenly loafer on 
 the beer-keg. 
 
 " Barclay's got a new hat," remarked he, after 
 they had passed the People's Saloon. 
 
 Continuing their tramp they could see, not far 
 in the distance, a peculiar low structure like a 
 small hut or cabin, half-hidden from view by a 
 clump of black willows. 
 
 " Hello ! " cried Tom ; " we are coming to the 
 river! Do you see that shanty -boat? That's 
 where Sam Noggle lives ! There, I believe I see 
 Sam Noggle now, walking along on the sand. 
 No; that can't be Sam, Sam don't walk so 
 slow, and he isn't so small. Oh, I bet I know 
 who it is! It's Squinty! You know Squinty 
 Kunkle, don't you, Uncle Felix ? " 
 
 " I have heard you describe him, Tom. You 
 appear to be well acquainted with boys of all 
 sizes, colors and classes." 
 
 " Yes, of course ; all the fellows know all the 
 other fellows."
 
 SQUINTY RUNKLE 29 
 
 A few minutes' walk brought the pair to the 
 river bank, and close to the shanty-boat. The 
 long, narrow, weather-worn craft was covered 
 by a slightly arched roof of tarred paper, through 
 which, at one end, a section of rusty stove-pipe 
 protruded. The roof was cumbered with trump- 
 ery, broken furniture, cracked crocks, worn-out 
 boots and shoes. Faint traces of color, still ad- 
 hering to the least exposed weather-boards, told 
 that the vessel had once been painted green ; 
 and some almost effaced large letters in Venetian 
 red, showed that the name of the boat was 
 The Nelly Barton. Silence reigned in the 
 precincts of the amphibious house, and the loiter- 
 ing man and boy concluded that nobody was at 
 home. They continued their stroll, along the 
 gravelly margin of the Ohio. 
 
 " What has become of your friend Runkle ? " 
 " Squinty ? " laughed Tom. " Maybe he has 
 blown away. You never know what has become 
 of him. Seems to me he vanishes, like ghosts 
 and fairies. He's afraid of everybody except 
 Sam Noggle. Squinty don't live anywheres in 
 particular, and Sam sort of takes care of him and 
 does his fighting, and keeps the toughs from 
 teasing him too much. They say Barclay Snooks 
 watches for Squinty, in scary places, just to jump 
 out at him and make him screech. Squinty 
 hasn't much sense ; he believes everything, and 
 kind of dreads everybody. But I don't think he
 
 30 TOM TAD 
 
 hates me. I'll see if I can't coax him here. 
 Hay, there ! Squinty ! I've got something for 
 you. Come this way." 
 
 The boy thus summoned came slowly shuffling 
 along, but he halted when within a dozen paces 
 of Tom. 
 
 "Here's an apple for you," continued Tom, 
 holding up the tempting fruit. " Come and get 
 it." 
 
 Squinty advanced a few paces, and stood ir- 
 resolute. Uncle Felix spoke in a pleasant tone, 
 and offered him a dime. At length the timid 
 urchin sidled up and got the coin and the apple. 
 
 "Where's Sam?" asked Tom. 
 
 " Gone to fetch his mother." 
 
 "Where is she?" 
 
 "Saloon. Drunk." 
 
 " Have you seen Barclay, to-day ? " 
 
 Squinty was silent. 
 
 "You needn't be afraid of us," said Tom. 
 "We only just want to talk with you." 
 
 "Barclay runned away." 
 
 " Who said so ? " 
 
 " Seneca did. Seneca said Barclay was afeard 
 he would git took up fer shootin' Charley Blog- 
 son. Seneca said he heern Charley Blogson was 
 dead. Seneca he said Barclay mought be 
 stringed up, Seneca he said." 
 
 " I reckon they will string him up, if Charley 
 is dead," remarked Uncle Felix, in a solemn
 
 SQUINTY RUNKLE 31 
 
 manner highly amusing to Tom. " But we must 
 be going on, or we shall not find any arrow- 
 heads. Good-bye, Squinty. Give him another 
 apple, Tom." 
 
 Tom did as directed, and he and his uncle re- 
 sumed their walk. 
 
 They sauntered on leisurely, keeping near the 
 water's edge, stooping now and then to pick up 
 a tinted shell or a choice specimen of coral. 
 
 "Uncle, you are a pretty smart man, ain't 
 you ? " was the abrupt way in which Tom opened 
 conversation, when the two had walked some 
 distance in silence. 
 
 " I'm hardly smart enough to answer that ques- 
 tion, Tom. You must ask something easier." 
 
 " Yes, but now, without joking, you know you 
 are smart. Most of my relations is smart. They 
 are nearly all some sort of men. I'm going to be 
 some sort of a man myself." 
 
 " I don't quite understand you." 
 
 " "Why, I mean kind of important, and not no 
 account. There's you are a doctor, and what 
 they call a jackass at all trades. And pa is a 
 trustee ; and a kind of miser-like " 
 
 " No, not a miser, my boy ; your father is a 
 very liberal man. A miser is one who hoards up 
 money. A miser is stingy." 
 
 "And there's Uncle Bob, out in St. Louis, 
 Frank's pa, he is a lawyer ; and so on. They 
 are all some sort of men. I'd like to be a great
 
 32 TOM TAD 
 
 natural like Buffoon, or Herbert Darwin, that 
 you told me about." 
 
 "A great naturalist, you should say, not a 
 natural. Look in the dictionary and you will 
 find that a natural is a fool, an idiot. You 
 didn't remember right about the names, either. 
 It was Buffon, not Buffoon. Mr. Darwin's first 
 name was Charles. I told you that Cuvier was a 
 famous naturalist, and Agassiz another." 
 
 " Yes, he is the one who invented the human 
 specie, wasn't it ? Or was that Mr. Huxley ? " 
 
 " These subjects are rather difficult for a boy. 
 You had better observe the things that are near 
 at hand, actual objects, birds, fishes, stones, 
 grass. You can take up books later." 
 
 "Uncle Felix, I know most of the common 
 bugs about here. There's the potato-bug." 
 
 " That's a beetle, not a bug." 
 
 " And there's the bed-beetle." 
 
 "No, no, Tom, that's no beetle, but a real 
 bug." 
 
 "And I know the sow-bug, or is that a 
 beetle?" 
 
 " What you call a sow-bug is neither a bug nor 
 a beetle ; it is an isopod crustacean." 
 
 " I believe it is," said Tom, " now I come to 
 
 think, or a Look ! there is a shite-poke ! 
 
 "Wisht I had a gun. I saw a crane the last time 
 I was down here. You don't see cranes very 
 often."
 
 SQUINTY KUNKLE 33 
 
 As Tom said this the attention of the two was 
 drawn to a water-fowl which flew swiftly by, 
 and, descending suddenly to the surface of the 
 river, made a quick plunge, and disappeared. 
 
 " That's a hell-diver," explained Tom. " There 
 he comes up. He's as quick as lightning. You 
 can't hit a hell-diver, for when he sees the flash 
 of your gun, he dives out of sight." 
 
 " "What you call a hell-diver is a species of 
 wild duck." 
 
 " Of course ; anybody knows that," said Tom, 
 who always made the most of his own knowl- 
 edge, and the least of other people's. " Haven't 
 we come to the place where the arrow-heads 
 are?" 
 
 " There at the bend of the river, not far from 
 that gum-tree on the bank of Glen Creek. The 
 place is rich in arrow-heads. I have come to 
 the conclusion that the Indians had what might 
 be called a flint factory in this locality. Keep 
 your eyes open, and look sharp. I'll give you 
 ten cents for every perfect specimen you find." 
 
 "When they reached the vicinity of the gum- 
 tree the search for arrow-heads was continued 
 diligently, but with unsatisfactory results. Tom 
 found numerous fragments, which gave evidence 
 of having been chipped off by some tool, and the 
 trained eye of Uncle Felix discovered two or 
 three small stone darts. 
 
 "We are not having very good luck," said he.
 
 34: TOM TAD 
 
 " Shall we sit down and rest awhile ? "We have 
 walked a long way. The shanty-boat is scarcely 
 visible. There is somebody who seems to be 
 watching us." 
 
 " Why," exclaimed Tom, " it's Squinty again. 
 He has followed us. Now he is turning back ; I 
 guess he sees us looking at him." 
 
 Squinty had not lost sight of the arrow- 
 hunters or their basket. Keeping at what he 
 considered a safe distance, he followed after 
 them in a slinking manner, like a dog which, 
 having been driven back, still entertains a for- 
 lorn hope that its master will relent and whistle 
 permission for it to come on. While Felix and 
 Tom were regarding the boy with some curiosity, 
 they saw him stop and stand irresolute, kicking 
 the sand with his bare feet. 
 
 " Let's pretend not to notice him," said Tom, 
 " and go on hunting for specimunds, and like as 
 not he will sneak up close to us. Isn't it fun to 
 hear him talk ? " 
 
 " Not much," replied the uncle, with a touch 
 of sadness. " Poor fellow." 
 
 " He's happy. He don't have to go to school 
 at all. And he never needs to dress up, or 
 anything." 
 
 In the course of half an hour Squinty drew 
 near, by cautious degrees, keeping an eye on the 
 dinner-basket ; and, imitating the others, he 
 moved slowly around with back bent and eyes
 
 SQUINTY KUNKLE 35 
 
 fixed upon the ground, seeking he knew not 
 what. At length he approached Dr. Eldon, 
 holding in his fingers a bit of anthracite coal. 
 The naturalist took the valuable relic, and ex- 
 plained that the object of search was to find 
 arrow-heads, samples of which were shown. No 
 sooner did Squinty's slow eyes rest upon the 
 samples, than his countenance lighted up with 
 gladness. Turning to Tom and grinning, he de- 
 livered himself of the potent expletive, 
 "Gosh!" 
 
 Without another word, he started off at a 
 rapid pace, in a straight line, nor did he halt un- 
 til he came to a small point of ground near the 
 mouth of the little stream that flowed into the 
 Ohio. There he paused and, turning, beckoned 
 Uncle Felix who, with Tom at his side, hurried 
 to the spot. Squinty pointed out a crevice be- 
 tween two large stones. Tom made haste to 
 inspect the crevice. It contained more than 
 twenty very fine specimens of spear points and 
 arrow-heads, of various sizes and shapes. Squinty 
 had picked them up in childish wonderment and 
 had deposited them in that secret place, not hav- 
 ing the least idea of their value. 
 
 "What will you take for them?" asked the 
 doctor, putting his hand into his pocket. Squinty 
 made no reply, but looked hard at the dinner- 
 basket. Acting on this hint, Tom gave him sev- 
 eral biscuits, and Eldon handed a silver dollar to
 
 36 TOM TAD 
 
 the hungry boy, who for the second time said, 
 " Gosh ! " then immediately turned westward 
 and scampered away not looking to right or left. 
 On went Squinty, due west, down along the river 
 bank, over the sand and gravel. Tom and his 
 uncle watched the retreating figure until it was 
 lost beyond a bend in the river.
 
 VII 
 
 THE SHANTY-BOAT SURPRISE 
 
 " SQUINTY RUNKLE isn't such a bad natural, 
 is he, uncle ? He beats us finding things." 
 
 " That's true, Tom. And he is wiser than we 
 in another way. He knows enough to avoid be- 
 ing caught out in the rain. "We have kept our 
 eyes so close to the ground that we have forgot- 
 ten the sky. How the clouds have gathered ! 
 Look ! What angry flashes of lightning there 
 beyond the Kentucky hills! We must seek 
 shelter, for it's going to storm." 
 
 A peal of thunder confirmed these words. 
 Every aspect of the sky and token of the air in- 
 dicated that the valley was soon to be visited by 
 one of those sudden thunder-gusts to which the 
 region is subject in summer. The excursionists 
 took up their basket and walked briskly towards 
 the shanty-boat, following the tracks of Squinty. 
 A delightful breeze was blowing up the valley. 
 But the sky was entirely overcast with dark 
 clouds, and the sullen waters of the broad river 
 looked like molten lead. The wreck of a half- 
 sunk coal barge lay near the shore. Passing 
 
 37
 
 38 TOM TAD 
 
 this, Tom's sharp eye caught sight of a small 
 animal swimming towards the boat. 
 
 " There's a mus'rat," shouted he in his usual 
 excited fashion. " The ign'rant folks down here 
 by the river calls it ' mush-rat.' ' : 
 
 " You say the right name is mus-rat, do you ? " 
 
 "Yes; mus-rat, not mush-rat. There's no 
 mush about it. These ign'rant folks don't know 
 no better. They can't pronounce worth a cent." 
 
 "I am sorry for them," quietly replied the 
 uncle. 
 
 The storm made such progress that by the time 
 the hurrying man and boy arrived opposite the 
 shanty-boat, the rain was falling. "Without cere- 
 mony, they ran down to the floating structure 
 and stepped aboard. A door leading from the 
 front platform to the main room was wide open. 
 To avoid a wetting, Dr. Eldon made bold to step 
 inside this door, at the same time knocking and 
 calling out. 
 
 A small girl, perhaps six years of age, sat on 
 the floor of the cabin. She made no attempt to 
 move, but stared vacantly at the visitors. At 
 the farther end of the room was a low bed upon 
 which lay an old man with abundant gray hair. 
 His face was very pale. 
 
 The unexpected visitors were at a loss what to 
 say or do. Tom was the first to speak. 
 
 " Are you hungry ? " he asked of the girl. 
 
 She nodded her head. Tom thrust his hand
 
 THE SHANTY-BOAT SURPRISE 39 
 
 into the basket. Though his sympathies were 
 stirred, he did not entirely forget himself, but 
 providently slipped two biscuits into his own 
 pocket before handing one to the girl. She took 
 the biscuit and bit from it a huge mouthful. 
 When she had swallowed this and was raising 
 the biscuit to her mouth to take another bite, 
 Tom interjected a question. 
 
 " Is your name Noggle ? n 
 
 Again the girl nodded. 
 
 " Sam's sister ? " 
 
 The same sign of assent. 
 
 " What's your name ? " 
 
 " Mandy." 
 
 " Who is that on the bed ? " 
 
 " Gran'dad." 
 
 Dr. Eldon stepped to the bedside and felt the 
 pulse of the old man who rolled his eyes wearily 
 but said nothing. 
 
 "A very sick man. We have got ourselves 
 into business, Tom, my boy. We must take 
 care of these folks. How the rain pours 
 down ! " 
 
 The next instant a vivid flash of lightning 
 filled the place with a brightness so dazzling that 
 Tom shrank with terror. A crash of thunder 
 followed. While the awful sound was rumbling 
 away in the distance, a voice was heard wailing 
 and moaning, and an apparition darkened the door. 
 There stood a woman, drenched with rain, be-
 
 40 TOM TAD 
 
 draggled, bare-headed, her loose black hair 
 straggling down her shoulders and back. She 
 was in the last stages of intoxication, and was 
 held from falling and pushed forward into the 
 shanty by a youth whom Tom recognized as 
 Sam Noggle. The sight of strangers seemed to 
 recall the drunken woman's senses, partially. 
 She stared at Felix, then at Tom, and, sinking 
 down upon the floor in a confused heap, muttered 
 incoherent words : 
 
 " Go away go away see the dandy see the 
 dandy go away where' s Sam's baby ? Sam's 
 baby Sam's baby dead again dead again go 
 away go 'way." 
 
 Sam Koggle frowned fiercely at the uninvited 
 guests before him. 
 
 " What are you doing here ? " 
 
 " Why, my lad, we came in out of the rain," 
 said Eldon. 
 
 " Don't call me your lad. I'm not your lad. I 
 want you to get out of this." 
 
 " But it's raining rather hard to go out just 
 now." 
 
 " You've no business in here. Nobody asked 
 you here. Nobody wants you. This is my 
 house. If you don't go out, I'll make you ! If 
 you don't go out, I'll kill you ! " 
 
 Eldon, surprised at the boy's violence, though 
 admiring his spirit, proffered a conciliatory hand 
 which Sam, instead of accepting, struck at with
 
 AN APPARITION DAKKKNKI) THK DOOK
 
 THE SHANTY-BOAT SURPRISE 41 
 
 clenched fist. The doctor's steady gaze kindly 
 met the flashing eyes of the boy. 
 
 " Let us be friends, Sam. Your grandfather 
 wants my help. He needs medicine. I think, 
 too, I can be of some service to your sick 
 mother." 
 
 Touched by the manifest sincerity of this ap- 
 peal, the passionate lad cast his eyes downward 
 and fixed them upon the degraded woman at his 
 feet. His breast labored, he sobbed, and tears of 
 humiliation stole down his brown cheeks. Tom 
 stared blinkingly at the low ceiling. A beam 
 of sunshine suddenly streamed in through a nar- 
 row window of the shanty, for the storm had 
 passed as rapidly as it had come on. So also, it 
 seemed, had subsided the tempest in Sam toggle's 
 clouded mind. 
 
 "I wish you would try to cure gran'daddy. 
 He's been sick for a week. I can take care of 
 mother. You mustn't mind what I said. I 
 couldn't stand it to have you see 
 
 " Where is your father, Sam ? " 
 
 " He has gone to Flee'town to help unload coal 
 barges. I'm glad he's not here." 
 
 Dr. Eldon had some further talk with Sam, 
 advising him what was best to be done for the 
 sick old man, and promising to provide for the 
 wants of the family. The visitors then took 
 their departure. Tom made it convenient to 
 forget the basket, leaving it at the feet of
 
 42 TOM TAD 
 
 Mandy. As he was making his way from the 
 shanty-boat to the shore, across a gangplank, a 
 lank dog followed close upon his heels, sniffing 
 at his pocket. Tom drew forth one of the two 
 biscuits and tossed it to the dog. 
 
 " Everybody about here seems to be hungry. 
 Now I've only got one biscuit left and you and I 
 haven't had a bite to eat since we left home. 
 Here, uncle, you take the upper half of this and 
 I'll take the lower half."
 
 VIII 
 
 TOM TAKES A LESSON IN GEBMAN 
 
 TOM failed not to tell Fritz Haberkorn what 
 befell at the Noggle shanty, and to dilate on the 
 kindness of Uncle Felix. 
 
 " I'll tell you what, Fritz, if I do say it myself, 
 he is the Christianest man in this neighborhood ; 
 and he don't brag about it, neither. There never 
 was a man who was kinder to the poor unless it 
 might be mother." 
 
 " Your uncle vas like a man in my country. I 
 rode about him in the almanac. He vas vat 
 you call him ? a Sam-a-ree-tan." 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 " A goot Sam-a-ree-tan." 
 
 Tom had a faint recollection that in Sunday- 
 school he also had "rode" about the Good 
 Samaritan. 
 
 " I tell you dot story. Vas a man, by golly, 
 going along der road, und, vat you tink? five 
 oder six tief shump right away out mit a 
 bistols und knock him dot head on, und pull him 
 dot coat off, und run avay mit hees monee. He 
 vas all bleedin', und pooty nigh dead, und a 
 breacher coomt his buggy in " 
 
 43
 
 44 TOM TAD 
 
 " "What came in a buggy, Fritz ? " 
 
 " Ein breacher, vat you call der briest ? " 
 
 " Preacher ! Oh ! Go on." 
 
 " Ya. Dot breacher see dot man und say to 
 heesself, * By golly, vat's dot ? ' Und he vip up 
 hees pony und drive fast avay by de uder side. 
 Pooty soon coomt a pig, rich lawyer, mit a golt 
 cane, und see dot poor man a bleedin', und he 
 look at him und go right avay by de uder side. 
 Veil. Pooty soon coomt dot Sam-a-ree-tan vat I 
 told you, und ven he see dot man, he vas ridin' 
 a leetle mool, he says ' Donner und Blitzen ! ' 
 und shumpt right avay dot mool off, und schtoop 
 down und put some oil or so on hees vounds, und 
 tie um up mit hees handkerchief, und took out 
 hees viskey bottle und make dot dead man trink 
 leetle, und say, ' Mein Freund, shust shump dot 
 mool on,' und help him ons dot leetle mool. Ya 
 wohl ! By golly, vat you tink ? Right avay 
 dey vas coom by der Gast House, oder tafern, 
 vat you call saloon, und dees goot Sam-a-ree-tan 
 say, ' Hi ! Hello ! you land-lort. Take care dees 
 man. You gief him vat he need, some wurst 
 oder beer, und put him in bett. Hier ist der 
 monee. You shust treat him like a shentlemans, 
 und by golly, ven I coom back to-morrow I pay 
 hees doctor pill.' Dot Sam-a-ree-tan vas like 
 your Uncle Felix, nit ? " 
 
 " Yes, he was, Fritz. Only Uncle Felix doesn't 
 ride a mule nor carry a whiskey bottle. Fritz,
 
 A LESSON IN GEKMAN 45 
 
 you speak mighty good English for a man of 
 your age. I'd like to talk German as well as 
 you can talk English. I wish you would learn 
 me the German language. 
 
 " "What's boy in German ? " 
 
 "Knabe." 
 
 " And girl ? " 
 
 " Madchen." 
 
 " That sounds like maiden. What's father ? " 
 
 "Vater." 
 
 " And mother ? " 
 
 " Mutter." 
 
 "What's sister?" 
 
 " Schwester." 
 
 " And brother ? " 
 
 " Bruder." 
 
 " Why, Fritz, that's all pretty much the same 
 as English, only you don't pronounce the words 
 quite right. Fater, Mutter, Swester, Brutter / I 
 can say that as well as you can. I think I've 
 got the hang of the language, and I won't need 
 to take many lessons. Now I'll try you. I'll 
 ask you something in German and see if you can 
 understand me. Let's see. 'Ister Grander 
 Fater Bartoner sicker ? ' Can you make that 
 out?" 
 
 Fritz shook his head and said, " Nein." 
 
 " Wait, Fritz, I'U put it in English. I'll say it 
 slow. ' Ister,' is, ' Granderfater,' grandfather, 
 'Bartoner,' JBarton, 'Sicker,' sick. Is grand-
 
 46 TOM TAD 
 
 father Barton sicJcf Do you understand 
 that?" 
 
 Yes, Fritz understood that. 
 
 "Why, then, it seems to me that you under- 
 stand English better than you do your own 
 foreign tongue ! " exclaimed Tom. " Let's hear 
 how you would ask me if my grandfather is 
 sick?" 
 
 " 1st dein Grossvater krank ? " 
 
 " ' Crank ! ' Is my grandfather a crank ? 
 You are getting off the subject, Fritz. But I 
 s'pose it will be easier for you to speak English, 
 now, anyhow, for you've been in the United 
 States a good while. This country beats Ger- 
 many all to smash, don't it ? You are welcome 
 to this native land. I 'spect you have seen some 
 of them tyrants over there in Europe, haven't 
 you ? But you are out of the way of their 
 chains now in this free land of liberty, and I bet 
 you are not afraid to stand by your red, white 
 and blue, or plunge in the cannon's mouth and 
 fight till the last armed and last legged foe ex- 
 pires, like Morocco Bowarrows."
 
 IX 
 
 TOM IGNORES SOCIAL DISTINCTIONS 
 
 DR. ELDON kept his promise to Sam Noggle. 
 Daily he went down to the shanty-boat and gave 
 his personal attention to the family whose 
 miserable condition he had accidentally dis- 
 covered. Moreover, he enlisted the cooperation 
 of the Tadmores, one and all, in his benevolent 
 schemes. 
 
 Boxes of eatables and bales of wearables were 
 sent to the destitute occupants of The Nelly 
 Barton. Mr. Tadmore was persuaded by his 
 wife and daughter to exert himself in the 
 philanthropic enterprise, and his influence se- 
 cured for Peter Noggle employment with fair 
 wages, in a lumber-yard at Forest Glen. 
 
 More than a week elapsed before Uncle Felix 
 would allow Tom to accompany him on a visit 
 to the Noggles', though Tom had continually 
 teased to go along. When he did go he had a 
 long talk with Sam who took him out for a boat- 
 ride and showed him the wreck of a burned 
 steamer. In the evening when Tom came home, 
 his mother took occasion to question him in 
 
 47
 
 48 TOM TAT) 
 
 regard to his day's doings, as was her custom. 
 Hannah was present at the interview. 
 
 " Well, tell us about your visit to the shanty- 
 folks. Did you see Mandy ? " 
 
 " I didn't go in the boat. I hated to see the 
 lady," said Tom. " But I got pretty thick with 
 Sam. "We went out on the river in a skiff and 
 talked a heap. I'd like to live in a boat. It 
 must be lots of fun. It's like camping out. 
 Then you can fish so handy. Sam's got a dog. 
 What do you think, mother, Sam hatched a 
 dozen chickens right in the boat ; that is, he 
 didn't hatch them himself, but the old hen did, 
 in the coop, plumb in the house. But a mus'rat 
 got nine of the chickens." 
 
 " What does Sam do f How does he put in 
 the time ? " 
 
 " He fishes, and shoots ducks, and goes a swim- 
 min'. When the water is up he helps his daddy 
 pull in drift. They use it for wood. All sorts 
 of curious things float down. But you can't 
 guess what Sam fished out one time." 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 " A dead suicide." 
 
 " Why Tommy ! " exclaimed Han, with a hor- 
 rified countenance. 
 
 " Yes, he did. He had to go to the corner with 
 his daddy." 
 
 " You mean coroner." 
 
 " Yes, coroner ; what did I say ? I meant cor-
 
 IGNORES SOCIAL DISTINCTION 49 
 
 oner, of course. Do you know, Han, how they 
 make a sunk corpse that's drownded come up 
 from the bottom ? " 
 
 " I've heard that they fire a cannon over the 
 place. Don't they, mother ? " 
 
 " I believe so, my dear. But it's not a pleasant 
 thing to think about." 
 
 " I hate to think about it, and I hate to hear 
 about it, and I hate to talk about it," said Tom, 
 with a visage of disgust ; " but there's a better 
 way than the cannon way to fetch 'em up. If 
 you can just get a shirt that belongs to the 
 drownded floater, and tie up a loaf of dry bread 
 in it, and chuck it in the water, it will draw 
 right to the spot where the dead corpse is and 
 sink down to him." 
 
 " Do you believe that ? " asked Han. 
 
 " ' Course I do. Sam says so. They tried it 
 when their baby was drownded but it didn't work, 
 'cause the baby didn't have the right sort of a 
 shirt. "Wasn't it awful about that baby drownd- 
 ing ? It was a girl baby, Sam says." 
 
 " How did it happen, and when ? " 
 
 "I don't know when. Sam didn't say when. 
 A good while ago, I guess. His mother dropped 
 it into the river when she was intoxicated. She 
 didn't know what she was doing. But it was 
 clean drownded plumb dead and they never saw 
 it afterwards. Sam says seems like his mother 
 has been sort of crazy-like ever since. He says
 
 50 TOM TAD 
 
 she talks about it when she's asleep. She al- 
 ways calls it ' Sam's baby.' " 
 
 " This is dreadful," said Mrs. Tadmore. 
 
 " Sam cried a little. He said he saved a baby's 
 life that night of the steamboat burning, and he 
 felt like stealing the baby for his mother. His 
 mother is real nice when she isn't drinking. He 
 asked me one queer thing. I felt mad, at first, 
 but my, he didn't mean any harm. He asked me 
 about our folks, and how we act, and he says, 
 1 Tom, does your mother ever take too much ? ' 
 ' Too much what ? ' says I. ' Why, too much 
 liquor,' says he. ' I'll knock you into the river,' 
 says I. * I thought,' says he, ' that you and me 
 was good friends, now, and I'd ask you that, for 
 I sometimes wish some swell lady did take too 
 much so's I needn't be so 'shamed about mother. 
 But I'm glad your mother don't get drunk, and I 
 don't care if you do knock me in the river, for 
 it's my notion that the baby has got the best of 
 it.' After a bit he cheered up and showed me a 
 dog-type of his mother when she was a little 
 girl." 
 
 " Tou should say daguerreotype ; I suppose that 
 is what he meant." 
 
 " He calls it a ' dog-type.' It is a sort of dim, 
 looking-glass picture in a case that shuts up. 
 You never saw such a pretty face! I couldn't 
 hardly believe Sam's mother was that beautiful. 
 Near 'bout as nice looking as Han."
 
 TOM AND FRITZ CONVERSE 
 
 THOMAS TADMORE was sociable to a fault. 
 The number and variety of his familiar acquaint- 
 ances astonished his mother. Like Socrates, this 
 young American philosopher was ever wishing to 
 converse with mankind, and would even be will- 
 ing to pay for a good listener. Like Socrates, he 
 had a high opinion of his own shrewdness and 
 was fond of a sly joke. Nothing pleased him 
 better than to display his learning to those whom 
 he imagined ignorant, especially to those who re- 
 ceived his scientific facts and doctrines with 
 wonder and admiration. 
 
 Among his docile pupils was Fritz Haberkorn. 
 One morning the indispensable Fritz was sawing 
 and hammering in a natural arbor called the 
 " Centennial Bower," constructing a rustic bench 
 of ironwood, ornamented with grape-vine, when 
 Tom accosted him : 
 
 " What are you doing, Fritz ? " 
 " I make a bench for your mutter." 
 " It's an awful nice one," said Tom, surveying 
 the structure approvingly. "Easy, too," added 
 he, sitting down upon it. 
 
 51
 
 52 TOM TAD 
 
 " Here," said Fritz, taking something from the 
 pocket of his coat which hung near by on a 
 hackberry limb. " Here is somedings vat I tig 
 up mit der shpade ven I tig der shpring out." 
 Tom examined the object. It was a specimen of 
 coral of the variety called, in the hard language 
 of geology, Cyathophyllum. "Dot vas a calf's 
 horn turned to shtone, eh ? " 
 
 Tom looked wise. " JSTo ; this is a putrefaction. 
 There's a good many such about here. I found 
 a new sort of organic remain the other day in 
 the quarry. It appeared to me to be a gaster- 
 pod, but the gaster-peas was all shelled out. It's 
 a trilobite." 
 
 " Vare did it bite you ? " inquired Fritz. 
 
 " Trilobite, I say. They are putrefied, also. 
 We use them for charms. Geology treats trilo- 
 bites. Geology is a splendid study ; it tells all 
 about stratums and strikes and outcrops. Char- 
 ley Blogson and me discovered five unknown 
 Silurians that I labeled Specimenicus Tadii. 
 They used to be alive about ten quintillion years 
 ago." 
 
 Fritz Haberkorn listened to Tom profoundly 
 mystified. The voluble Master Tadmore ap- 
 peared to think his talk quite lucid and edifying. 
 Thrusting his hands deep into his trousers' 
 pockets, he went on : 
 
 "Geology treats the earth, too, as well as 
 trilobites. The earth is a round spear in the
 
 TOM AND FEITZ CONVERSE 53 
 
 shape of a ball and was made to imitate a globe. 
 This earth is all holler inside and filled up with 
 molten liquor. Some thinks there is a solid 
 nucleus in the centre of the middle, like a baked 
 dumpling with an apple in it. But I doubt that. 
 There is not enough theory to prove it. The 
 crust of the earth is thick compared to pie-crust, 
 but thin compared to Barclay Snooks' skull. 
 Fritz, did you know Barclay Snooks ran away ? " 
 
 "He vas here shust now, mit hees shmall 
 brudder." 
 
 " Was he ? What did he want ? " 
 
 " He vas mit a gun." 
 
 " I'll bet he was prowling around here to get a 
 shot at our dog. Or to steal something. What 
 sort of a tree is that by the spring, Fritz ? " 
 
 " Dot ? dot vas a linn. By golly, I tell you a 
 shtory by dot. Yas a man, in my country, vot 
 has a daughter, und a yung man coom to see 
 her, by golly, nearly efry night, und he vant to 
 marry her. But dot man say, 'Vot for you 
 marry ? You got notings, you pooty nigh 
 starf.' Veil, dees girl say, 'Fater, Gott make 
 der vorld from notings.' So, von night, dot old 
 man treamt he been diggin' und diggin' under a 
 linn-tree, und found a pox monee. So next day, 
 he get a shpade, und pick, oder so, und he go 
 vare vas two linn-trees, a pig von und a leetle 
 von; und he began to dig right avay by dot 
 leetle tree. He vas villins to dig it up by roots.
 
 54 TOM TAD 
 
 Now, vat you tink ? Dot yung man vas hid in 
 dot leetle tree, Christopher vas his name, und 
 dot girl's name vas Margaret, und he tink, ' By 
 golly, vat I do?' Und Margaret she say, 
 ' Fater, vat you done if Christopher coom ? ' 'I 
 kill him right avay ! ' Den Margaret she feel 
 her heart shumps, ' Yy you diggin' here, f ater ? ' 
 ' Yell, I hat a dream dot I find von pox monee 
 unter von linn-tree.' 'Sure, fater, dot monee 
 been hid a gut vile ; hoondert years, maybe, und 
 dees leetle tree ist nicht so alt. Yy you not dig 
 unter der pig linden ? ' ' Ya, wohl ! ' said der 
 man, und he begins right avay diggin' und dig- 
 gin', und, vat you tink ? dere vas von pig, pig 
 pox, full mit gold, und silber, unt timons ! So 
 he shump up, like crazy mans ' Margaret, Mar- 
 garet, dot tream coom true ; here iss der monee, 
 Margaret ! ' ' Yot you do now, fater, if Christo- 
 pher coom back ? ' ' Now, I don't care, Marga- 
 ret; you shust marry Christopher venever he 
 cooms back.' Den Margaret look up dot leetle 
 tree, und she say, 'Hi, by golly, Christopher, 
 coom down! Didn't I tell you, fater, Gott 
 make der vorld out of notings ? ' ' 
 
 There is no saying how long the profitable in- 
 terchange of science and romance might have 
 gone on between Tom and Fritz, had not their 
 conference been interrupted by Mr. Tadmore, 
 senior. That gentleman, observing that the 
 sound of hammer and saw had stopped, made it
 
 TOM AND FKITZ CONVERSE 55 
 
 convenient to stroll in the direction of the 
 Bower. The noise of hammer and sa,w recom- 
 menced with energy. The young scientist saun- 
 tered from the Bower to meet his father, upon 
 whom he had designs.
 
 XI 
 
 TOM AND THE SHOW 
 
 " PA, I wish you would give me a job of work 
 to do. I would like to earn a quarter." 
 
 " You may pick up the stones in the new pas- 
 ture, and throw them into the ravine." 
 
 " Yes," slowly and with a sigh, " I did pick up 
 a good many. Aunty thinks it brought on a 
 headache." 
 
 " You might dig up those dock- weeds." 
 
 " Don't you think, pa, I might gather some 
 cherries and sell them, and make money that 
 way?" 
 
 " "What will you pay me for the cherries, my 
 son?" 
 
 Tom gave up the idea of speculating in cher- 
 ries. 
 
 " What do you want money for ? " 
 
 " Oh, I dun' know. Nothing in particular. 
 Uncle Felix said yesterday you was a very gen- 
 erous man." 
 
 " How did he come to say that ? " 
 
 " Well, we was a talking about you, and how 
 kind you was, and all that, and how you wasn't 
 a bit stingy, and I said of course you was " 
 
 56
 
 TOM AND THE SHOW 57 
 
 " Was stingy ? " 
 
 " No I Kind and good to boys, and all that. 
 Pa, what y' goin' to do next Friday ? " 
 
 " Friday ? I have no plans for Friday. Why 
 do you ask ? " 
 
 " Oh, I dun' know. I just wondered. I 'spect 
 Friday will be a clear day. You haven't any 
 rheumatism in your bones, have you, pa ? " 
 
 " No, Tom, I am feeling unusually well this 
 summer." 
 
 " I'm so glad of that, pa ! 
 
 Mr. Tadmore was pleased at this manifestation 
 of his son's affectionate interest in his health. It 
 was scarcely to be expected in one so young. 
 The sympathetic child put his hand confidingly 
 into that of his parent. " Pa, Cousin Frank's 
 father always takes him most generally to the 
 circus." This information was accompanied by 
 an eager interrogative glance at pa's face. Pa's 
 face took on an expression of seasoned wood of 
 some hard variety. There was embarrassed 
 silence. 
 
 " Pa, Kobinson's Show " 
 
 "A foolish way to spend money," said the 
 wooden face. " All nonsense." 
 
 " There's three elephants." 
 
 " Folly ! Nonsense ! No place for a boy." 
 
 " And a giraffe, and monkeys." 
 
 " Say no more about it." 
 
 Thus speaking the wooden face bent its frown-
 
 58 TOM TAD 
 
 ing brows, looking sternly at the doleful counte- 
 nance of the boy. The countenance of the boy 
 was wrinkled into a most dismal shape. The 
 wooden face changed from hard oak to soft 
 maple. " Don't whimper ! " 
 
 " All the boys are going." 
 
 " They are, are they ? " 
 
 " There's a baby elephant, too." 
 
 " You are a baby yourself, Tom." 
 
 " I'd like to see the 'potamus." 
 
 " Well, we'll see about it." 
 
 Victory ! Tom knew well enough that when 
 his father said, " We'll see about it," the battle 
 was as good as won. 
 
 Friday came, and with it the circus and men- 
 agerie. The great tent and the smaller ones 
 containing the side-shows were erected not far 
 from the river, in the outskirts of the goodly vil- 
 lage of Forest Glen. 
 
 Tom, who was accustomed to express himself 
 with pen and ink, a very unusual practice for a 
 boy of his age, and a practice of which he was 
 proud and vain, wrote a long letter to his Cousin 
 Frank, of St. Louis, giving an account of the 
 show, and his impressions of it. Tom's letters, 
 like his conversation, contained a queer mixture 
 of conscious humor, precocious insight and nai've 
 simplicity. The lad was at once wise and inno- 
 cent ; droll and serious ; spontaneous and arti- 
 ficial. His natural shrewdness and comic fancy
 
 TOM AND THE SHOW 59 
 
 were curiously modified by a severely moral 
 home-training and by a hodge-podge education in 
 school. His letter to Cousin Frank ran as 
 follows : 
 
 " It seems an awful long time since you have 
 went. I promised to wright and here goes, for 
 I miss you at home do I miss you as the song 
 says. 
 
 " Frank I will take great panes in the compos- 
 ure of this so as to improve both our minds. 
 
 " And now I must first tell you we went to the 
 Grand Circuss me and pa and me but I wouldn't 
 take sister Han to see such things. I do not care 
 myself for the frivolous equistrian horse hippo- 
 drome but pa was ankshus to go as I could see 
 by his unexpressed looks so I took him along he 
 only paying the bills. If it hadn't been for me 
 we would have been late but we kept out of the 
 jamb by going at ten, and the doors open at one 
 so no trouble to pa. Pa was by no means the 
 only ball headed man there. I noticed that lots 
 of the boys of our school had one or more of 
 their fathers and mothers with them and there 
 was slithers of girls too and some rite Nice. 
 
 " I can't say that the circuss is hardly the right 
 kind of place for old folks. However they have 
 their weaknesses, Frank, as well as you or me. 
 For my part I go to such places merely as a 
 looker on.
 
 60 TOM TAD 
 
 " But the menagery part has its uses to the 
 mind, for it shows the habits of wild animals in 
 their natural homes, there is elephants for in- 
 stance and aquariums and the Bengal gnu and 
 Napoleons State coach and the calliope and other 
 zoological wonders and monkeys too remind us 
 of our origin of specie and warns us not to be 
 stuck up. Side-shows prove how much Bigger 
 and stronger the picture of things is than things 
 is themselves. I have took notice that a Wild 
 Man of Borneo on a show bill is a heap wilder 
 and more f rosius than a real Wild Man of borneo 
 inside the tent. 
 
 " Then I might also expectorate on those who 
 sell lemonade at the circuss. Never you deal 
 with them Frank I warn you as a true friend. 
 Some folks have a wasteful and vicious vice of 
 feeding elephants unwholesome peanuts and 
 gingercakes. it is not only wasteful but it dis- 
 organizes the stummick of the poor brute whose 
 natural food is the jumbles of Africa. 
 
 " There was a lady in the big tent dressed up 
 tight that they called the Flying Sylph because 
 they slung her by a catapult through the air about 
 a hundred feet and she lit on a big hammick. 
 The Flying Sylph laid down on the spring and 
 they touched her off and away sure enough she 
 flew ! I tell you Frank pa was skeert. 
 
 " Seems to me clowns has more sense than they 
 make use of and ringmaster's has less. Ide like
 
 TOM AND THE SHOW 61 
 
 to be a clown myself if it wasn't for the blame 
 ringmasters whip. 
 
 "The funniest thing was the clown bringing 
 in the family donkey. He was a little bit of a 
 donkey no bigger than you but mercy how he 
 did kick up. 
 
 " There was three rings in the circuss all going 
 round at once which made my head ake. Who 
 can look at a dancing pony and listen to the 
 jokes of two other clowns in the two other rings 
 while the man with lemonade and tickets keeps 
 bawling at you all the time ? 
 
 "Dear Frank I have aten my dinner and 
 rested up and now I will go a hed and phinnish 
 upp my letter. 
 
 " I was going to say they brought in the trick 
 donkey and the ringmaster said ' he would give 
 any gentleman a new coat who would ride him 
 around the ring ' and a ragged fellow he came 
 and pretended to be a greenhorn and the little 
 tads they thought sure enough he was a green 
 country horn but he got up onto him and sot the 
 other way and grabbed him by the tail and rode 
 around backward the donkey a kicking up so 
 that it would make a vinegar barl laugh. 
 
 "I forgot to tell about the Best of all the 
 wonder of the Nineteenth Century and only just a 
 girl all spangled up dressed in muskeeter-bar stuff 
 and ribbons and she rode a bare back mare dan- 
 cing and kissing her hand and jumping over poles
 
 62 TOM TAD 
 
 and flags and through a hoop of tisshew paper, I 
 tell you she was fine, seems to me like a fairy or 
 a sort of angel but Id hate Han to be hollered 
 at by the boys that way and joked by the clown. 
 
 " There was two clowns and when that girl I 
 just told of performed on the tite rope the ring- 
 master told one of the clowns to chalk the rope 
 so that she wouldnt slip down after he had 
 chalked it above he began to chalk it below and 
 when the ringmaster said why he did that the 
 clown said so the young lady won't slip up. 
 
 " Squinty Runkle was there and so was Sam 
 Noggle. I saw the Snooks boys too that I told 
 you about being so mean. Barclay was with 
 them McStaver girls a treating them to Red 
 lemonade. Old barclay saw me and Charley 
 Blogson standing by the Happy Fambly cage and 
 he said git out of my way kid and I called him a 
 potamus right before his girls. 
 
 " Good by frank wright soon. 
 " Tour cousin, 
 
 " THOMAS TADMORE."
 
 XII 
 
 FIGHTING THE FRENCH ARMY 
 
 SKIRTING a neglected woodland on the Tad- 
 more estate, was a field overgrown with rank 
 weeds and blackberry bushes. Fritz had under- 
 taken the task of clearing away these wild 
 growths, with the view of transforming the 
 waste ground into meadow. He sharpened his 
 scythe with the whetstone and, making believe 
 to be the Prussian Army, valiantly proceeded to 
 mow down whole regiments of French grena- 
 diers, for such, he told Tom, were the fierce 
 briars. While Tom stood watching with admi- 
 ration the advance of the Prussian Army, Charley 
 Blogson hailed him from the top rail of a fence 
 a few rods away. Retiring from the battle-field, 
 the loquacious young Tadmore joined his admir- 
 ing comrade, and the two lads, sitting side by 
 side on the fence, entered into familiar dialogue, 
 Tom, as usual, taking the lead. 
 
 " I was just telling Fritz how much better off 
 he is in this country than he was in the old 
 world, where he had to mind kings and tyrants, or 
 get his head cut off. I told him that he ought to 
 be glad of a chance to fight for the red, white and 
 
 63
 
 64 TOM TAD 
 
 blue. Uncle Felix says folks ain't as partyotic as 
 they ought, and don't raise liberty poles enough, 
 nor holler enough for "Washington and Columbus. 
 He says we forget our forefathers. I reckon you 
 know who our four fathers was ? "Washington, 
 and Columbus, and "William Tell, and Abe Lin- 
 coln." 
 
 "I wasn't sure about the last one," said 
 Charley, taking out his pocket-knife and pulling 
 a splinter from a rail, to whittle. 
 
 ""Wasn't sure about Abe Lincoln? He was 
 the biggest of the four. The boys around here 
 don't know nothing scarcely about our minute- 
 men, and how they started the Fourth of July. 
 I asked Sam who wrote the Declamation of Inde- 
 pendence, and he said Pontiac. "When I told 
 him it was Washington he said he knowed it 
 was now that I reminded him, but he was just 
 letting on because he hated to show his own 
 ign'rance. Fact is he didn't know any more 
 about it than you do." 
 
 " I thought," said Charley, deferentially, " that 
 the book said Thomas Jefferson wrote that." 
 
 "Wrote which?" 
 
 " The what you jest said ; the Fourth of 
 July thing." 
 
 " The Declamation of Independence ! Maybe 
 you are right, Charley. But I think it was 
 Washington. Or was it Patrick Henry ? I get 
 these things mixed up myself, sometimes."
 
 FIGHTING THE FRENCH ARMY 65 
 
 " So do I, I hate history, Tom." 
 
 " "Well, I like it. I think history is the nicest 
 study in school, and the nicest study there is, ex- 
 cept animals." 
 
 " I recollect," said Charley, " how they fired 
 at the Redcoats from behind stumps and stone 
 walls." 
 
 " Yes, they did ; you've got that right. That's 
 the way the Fourth of July started. "We ought 
 to study these things, Charley, so as to be 
 partyotic. I believe I'll go into politics when I 
 get to be a man, if I live and keep my health. 
 Seems to me I've been saved up for something 
 great. As like as not, maybe I'll be elected to 
 the presidential throne, like Abe Lincoln, and 
 I'll send you on a foreign missionary or else 
 minister plenty penitentiary." 
 
 " I'd like that," rejoined Charley. 
 
 " Charley, let's celebrate the Fourth of July 
 this year, and have speeches and fire- works." 
 
 " I'm willing." 
 
 " "We will have a sort of mass-meeting over in 
 your orchard, Charley, there back of the 
 barn." 
 
 "Who'll come to it?" 
 
 "Oh, all the boys and girls. You fix up a 
 nostrum for me to make a speech. "We'll get 
 some wooden guns, and swords, and so on. I'll 
 fetch a flag. But you mustn't tell the Snooks 
 boys, or any of their crowd. They would spoil
 
 66 TOM TAD 
 
 the celebration, and like as not old Barclay 
 would bring his gun and shoot you again." 
 
 Charley went on whittling. He did not like 
 the topic Tom had introduced. 
 
 " Charley, would you stand by me if I'd pitch 
 into Seneca Snooks and give him a black eye ? " 
 
 "Seneca isn't the one," replied Charley. 
 " Seneca only does what his brother tells him to. 
 I'm not afraid of Seneca, are you ? " 
 
 "No; that's the reason why I thought I'd 
 better lick him. But mother don't want me to 
 fight. She says it takes more moral courage not 
 to. Sister Han says no gentleman will stoop to 
 fight a rowdy, and she would be ashamed to 
 have her brother fight. Aunt Tildy is the worst 
 of all ; she says she'd rather see me in my little 
 coffin than she would fight. And pa says, if I 
 get into a fight at school, he might forget him- 
 self and try hickory oil on his dear son. Not 
 one of our family ever seems to have been a boy, 
 not even mother." 
 
 " There goes Barclay Snooks, now," said Char- 
 ley, pointing to the woods. "That's him, and 
 Seneca, and Cuff Chuck, and Squinty Runkle." 
 
 "Is that Cuff Chuck?" questioned Tom, 
 shading his eyes from the sun. "He is the 
 laziest nigger in the world. I wonder why 
 Squinty goes with them boys ? What are they 
 trying to do with Squinty ? " 
 
 From where the lads sat on the fence, they
 
 FIGHTING THE FRENCH ARMY 67 
 
 saw Barclay seize Squinty Runkle and throw 
 him to the ground. Then Seneca and the 
 colored boy were seen to stoop over the pros- 
 trate Squinty who screamed lustily for help. 
 Squinty's cries reached the ears of Fritz Haber- 
 korn who immediately dropped his scythe and 
 rushed to the rescue. 
 
 " Donner und Blitzen ! " shouted he, seizing a 
 huge club. " I make your hets right avay off." 
 But the dastardly Barclay and his attendants 
 took their own heads and bodies off to the cover 
 of the woods, leaving the victim of their per- 
 secution blubbering. 
 
 " Vat der matter iss ? " 
 
 Squinty got up, hawking and spitting. Tom 
 and Charley, who came running to the scene as 
 soon as the Snooks forces fled, took Squinty in 
 charge, and Fritz went slowly back to resume 
 offensive operation against the French army of 
 occupation. 
 
 " What did they do to you, Squinty ? " 
 
 Squinty kept on spitting, his face the picture 
 of disgust. Minutes elapsed before he could be 
 induced to speak. " Gosh," he finally articulated 
 putting an immense amount of expression into 
 the monosyllable. Tom, by dint of hard ques- 
 tioning, learned that Snooks had forced into 
 Squinty's mouth a crow's egg, far too old to be 
 palatable. 
 
 Unpleasant as the experience was to Squinty,
 
 68 TOM TAD 
 
 neither Tom nor Charley refrained from laugh- 
 ing. They advised the sufferer to keep out of 
 bad company, and were offering to see him safe 
 home, when they heard startling vociferations 
 from the hired man. They soon caught sight of 
 him, in the briar field, acting in a most extra- 
 ordinary manner. Fritz was plunging madly 
 about, as if dodging unseen missiles, and he kept 
 boxing his own ears as in violent rage. The tor- 
 rent of loud speech that issued from his mouth 
 was guttural German of the strongest kind, and 
 abounded in exclamations that Tom couldn't help 
 fancying were profane. The boys understood 
 the situation immediately. They both cried out 
 in a breath, 
 
 "Bumble-bees!" 
 
 The Prussian army in its devastating march 
 and slaughter of the French grenadiers, had 
 been surprised by a foe in ambush. The inva- 
 ding scythe had struck into the very citadel of 
 the armed honey-stealers and the furious horde 
 issued forth, every sting unsheathed. They took 
 Fritz by storm; they attacked him front and 
 rear; they assailed his ears, his eyes, his nose; 
 lodged in his shaggy hair, and penetrated 
 through his valiant beard to pay their warm 
 respects to his chin. The Prussian army, rush- 
 ing to the woods, tore up a small pawpaw-tree 
 by the roots, and madly slashed the air, like an- 
 other Don Quixote fighting invisible giants.
 
 FIGHTING THE FRENCH ARMY 69 
 
 "What, meanwhile, was the conduct of Thomas 
 Tadmore and Charles Blogson ? Did they fly 
 to the defense of the unfortunate man, as brave 
 lads should have done ? Ah, no. The truth 
 must be told. Those hardened wretches rolled 
 upon the grass convulsed with delight. 
 
 "I never laughed so much in my life," 
 chuckled Tom, when he related the incident that 
 afternoon to Uncle Felix. 
 
 " Neither did I," said Charley ; and the boys 
 indulged in a second fit of laughter in mere re- 
 membrance of the fun. 
 
 "Fritz always tells me," said Tom, "not to 
 pay any attention to the bumble-bees when they 
 come around my head, and they won't hurt. He 
 says if you act as if you don't know they are 
 there, they won't never sting." 
 
 As Tom was saying these words, Fritz unex- 
 pectedly appeared, his scythe on his shoulder. 
 
 " Did you whip the French, Fritz ? "asked Tom. 
 
 " By golly ! If I catch you poys laughing, I 
 schlag you dot shingle mit ! Now you mint out 
 vat I say." 
 
 Tom put on a serious face. 
 
 "Fritz, don't pay no attention to them and 
 they won't sting. You oughtn't to talk like a 
 crazy man about the dam and places in the 
 Bible, and such slang, or Charley and me'll have 
 to run away to keep from learning the bad words 
 you spoke on the spur of the minute."
 
 70 TOM TAD 
 
 The old soldier, scowling, strode away to- 
 wards the barn, and Tom gave Charley the 
 benefit of a moralist's reflections : 
 
 "There are three things I'd like to see any- 
 body do. The first is, to not get excited when 
 you fall into the river, but lay calm on your 
 back and float. Another hard thing is to look a 
 cross dog straight in the eye when he rushes up 
 to bite you. I tried that one time, to see if the 
 dog had the nerve or if he would quail. I looked 
 him tolerable straight in the eye, but he quailed 
 around my left wing and took me by the hind 
 part of the trouse's like a coward. But the 
 hardest of all is to not let on when a bumble-bee 
 comes bumbling like fury around your head. I 
 like to fight bumble-bees but I hate 'em to fight 
 me. Still, I pity them. They are like the wild 
 Indian red man, because they came to this 
 country first and we hadn't ought to treat them 
 mean. Suppose, Charley, you was a lone red 
 man, paddling your own canoe which the Great 
 Spirit gave you, and the pale face comes sneakin' 
 along and says he has the right to all the hunt- 
 ing ground for his sovereign ? If I was a lone 
 red man, I'd kick, too, before I'd give up my 
 wigwam. Wouldn't you ? "Well, it's just the 
 same with the bumble-bees. It's their nest, ain't 
 it ? If I was a King Bee, I'd do just the same 
 as Pontiac and Black Hawk did."
 
 XIII 
 
 TOM LOSES HIS MORAL COURAGE 
 
 TOM and Charley immediately set about ma- 
 king preparations for the Fourth of July celebra- 
 tion ; or, to speak accurately, Tom began to give 
 orders which Charley was to execute. A grassy 
 space in Blogson's orchard was chosen for the 
 proposed " mass meeting," and a rude platform 
 was erected to furnish a stand for public speech- 
 making. Boards for the construction of the 
 rostrum were collected from far and near, Tom 
 contributing not a few from sidewalks and fences 
 on his father's farm. This lumber, with a quan- 
 tity of stone and brick for foundation, was 
 transported to the place where it was to be used 
 by Charley, at the expense of much energy and 
 sweat. Tom's impatience demanded, and easily 
 secured, the services of Squinty Runkle as general 
 assistant, which lightened the labors of Charley 
 wonderfully. Tom assumed the responsible 
 office of architect and designer; Charley took 
 upon himself the duty of boss ; and Squinty had 
 nothing to do except to saw, hammer, lift, and, 
 in short, make the platform. The architect and 
 the boss-builder looked on, with their hands in 
 
 71
 
 72 TOM TAD 
 
 their pockets, while Squinty, with the pride of a 
 true Knight of Labor, performed the part which a 
 just division of labor allotted to him. When the 
 rough work was finished, and while the Knight 
 of Labor was tying a rag around his left thumb 
 which he had bruised, his superiors decorated the 
 stand with green branches and a scanty display 
 of small and much faded flags. 
 
 To make up for the deficiency in patriotic 
 emblems, Tom manufactured a flaunting banner 
 from a remnant of one of his sister's dresses, 
 a very gay pattern in stripes of red and 
 white, to which a blue field with stars of silver 
 paper was stitched, producing altogether a most 
 brilliant and soul stirring effect. Unfurled at 
 the top of a tall bean-pole nailed to the front of 
 the speaker's stand, this home-made flag streamed 
 and fluttered in the free air of Blogson's orchard, 
 to the unbounded admiration of Squinty Runkle 
 and his employers. 
 
 " See her wave ! " exclaimed Charley. " Isn't 
 she a beauty, Tom ? " 
 
 " Splendid ! " was the enthusiastic reply. " I 
 didn't think I could make such a fine flag, did 
 you ? Squinty, what do you think I made that 
 flag of ? It isn't common flag stuff at all : it's 
 Sister Han's striped frock ! " 
 
 " Gosh ! " said Squinty. 
 
 " Now, Charley, we must have a lot of guns 
 and swords. You can make the guns of broom-
 
 LOSES HIS MORAL COURAGE 73 
 
 handles and hoe-handles, and the swords out of 
 pine. I'll make one of tin for myself and put red 
 ink on the blade for blood. Then we can have 
 plumes of roosters' tails and such like, and you'll 
 be the brass band, Charley, and march behind 
 me with a drum " 
 
 " I haven't got a drum." 
 
 "Well, you can use a wash-boiler, or some- 
 thing, and you must play on your mouth to 
 imitate fifes and trumpets." 
 
 "I can do that" said Charley, and he pro- 
 ceeded to puff out his cheeks, and to execute, in 
 a most novel and energetic manner, the tune of 
 Yankee Doodle. 
 
 " That's it ! That's as good as a circus band. 
 You must learn to play ' Hail Columbia,' and 
 4 Star Spangled Banner.' I had a notion to open 
 the mass meeting with singing, but I guess I'll 
 give that up, now. I wrote the first verse of a 
 hymn which begins this way. Let's see, how 
 did I begin ? 
 
 " God bless our native land all hail 
 No tyrants here shall reign " 
 
 " Do you think it's better to hail than rain ? " 
 asked Charley, interrupting the recitation. 
 
 " It don't mean real hail and rain. It's only 
 po'try. Do you suppose, Charley Blogson, that 
 when they sing ' Hail Columbia,' they mean 
 anything like a storm ? But I thought of what
 
 74 TOM TAD 
 
 you mentioned when I was making it up. First 
 I made it up that way, hail and rain, and then I 
 was afraid somebody might find fault and I 
 changed it. I've got it written out, here in my 
 pocket. I'll read it as I wrote it the second 
 time. 
 
 " God bless oar native land all hail I 
 
 Let tyrants bleed hurrah ! ! 
 Sail on thou Ship of Freedom Sail ! ! ! 
 O Eagle flap and claw ! ! ! ! 
 
 " You understand, of course, why I bring in the 
 ship and the eagle? But I don't believe I'll 
 have this hymn sung. After the band plays, I'll 
 read the Declamation of Independence, and then 
 I'll make a big speech about no taxation and the 
 red, white and blue. You mustn't forget to 
 invite all the boys and girls, and maybe you'd 
 better get your mother to bake a pound cake, 
 and we'll have a sort of a picnic." 
 
 At the appointed hour, on the glorious Fourth, 
 a score of children gathered around the grand 
 stand in Blogson's orchard. Tom appeared in 
 the midst, fantastically dressed in what was in- 
 tended to represent a military costume. Stripes 
 of red tape were sewed to the legs of his panta- 
 loons ; his coat was turned inside out ; enormous 
 epaulettes decorated his shoulders ; a paper hat 
 stuck full of peacock feathers adorned his head, 
 and in his hand flashed a tin sword with a wooden
 
 LOSES HIS MOEAL COURAGE 75 
 
 hilt. His faithful aid- de-camp, Blogson, distrib- 
 uted to the boys and girls who made up the rank 
 and file of the "mass-meeting," such weapons, 
 plumes, and other warlike accoutrements, as he 
 had been able to provide. The forces were 
 ranged in line, the biggest soldier at one end and 
 the smallest at the other, the rest being arranged 
 between in regular gradation according to tall- 
 ness, and without regard to age, sex or military 
 experience. An awe-compelling feature of the 
 pageant was a make-believe cannon ingeniously 
 constructed by mounting a section of worn-out 
 stove-pipe on a pair of old hand-cart wheels, the 
 grotesque field-piece being drawn by four skit- 
 tish boys representing restive horses. Captain 
 Tadmore reviewed the column, and ordered Lieu- 
 tenant Blogson to drill the company. This the 
 subordinate attempted to do, but without much 
 success. Finally the Captain assumed command. 
 Placing himself at the head of the file, with 
 Blogson in the capacity of Brass Band next be- 
 hind him, he gave the command " March," and 
 strode off gallantly waving his sword. The pro- 
 cession, thus guided, moved onward, under the 
 apple-trees, and around the platform, animated 
 by the inspiring notes of Blogson's musical mouth, 
 and the accompanying clatter of drumstick on 
 an old tin basin. The grand parade being ended, 
 the militia became civilians and sat down on ttm 
 grass to listen to the oration of the day. So far
 
 76 TOM TAD 
 
 everything had gone on satisfactorily and accord- 
 ing to the program. But unforeseen mischief 
 was brewing. The unreliable Squinty, though he 
 had given a pledge of secrecy to Tom and Charley, 
 had incautiously betrayed to Seneca Snooks 
 the plans of celebration. So good an opportunity 
 to tease and torment Tom and his friends was 
 not to be lost by Barclay. That notorious leader, 
 carrying on his shoulder the renowned gun 
 which had so often saved his life, sallied forth on 
 Independence Day, accompanied by several of 
 his "gang," including his brother Seneca, Alic 
 Thug and Cuff Chuck. All were supplied with 
 ammunition in the form of mud-balls and stolen 
 eggs. They advanced cautiously and hid behind 
 a barn which stood a short distance from the 
 place of celebration. 
 
 Meanwhile, Captain Tadmore, having ascended 
 the platform, took a seat with grave dignity, and 
 the band struck up the air " Three Cheers for the 
 Ked, "White and Blue," a performance which 
 gave keen delight not only to the mass-meeting, 
 but also to the Goth-and- Vandal audience behind 
 the barn. The band, whose face was very red 
 from violent muscular exertion, sat down, and 
 the orator of the day arose. 
 
 " Ladies and Gentlemen : We will begin these 
 divine services by my reading the Declamation 
 of Independence. It is printed in full in the 
 back part of this history of the United
 
 LOSES HIS MORAL COURAGE 7Y 
 
 States. '"When, in the course of human 
 events ' " 
 
 A wild yell broke upon the ears of the speaker, 
 and cut his sentence short. The next minute, 
 Barclay and his gang left their place of concealment 
 and swaggered towards the platform. Captain 
 Tadmore's hand shook so that he could hardly 
 hold the United States history from which he was 
 attempting to read. He glanced up at the flag 
 which fluttered over his head, and went on 
 " ' When, in the course of human events, it be- 
 comes necessary ' " 
 
 Barclay Snooks and company here groaned in 
 concert and discharged a volley of mud-balls at 
 the orator. One of these knocked off his peacock 
 feathered hat. 
 
 "You go away from here, and let us alone. 
 This is our mass-meeting, and this is a free coun- 
 try. You mind your business and we'll 'tend to 
 ours. Girls, you just keep your seats. I'll go on 
 and read this Declamation if you'll stand by me. 
 * When, in the course of human events ' " 
 
 " Wipe off your chin," shouted Barclay. 
 
 " Pull down your vest," piped Seneca. 
 
 These insults were emphasized by a shower of 
 mud-balls and eggs. This second discharge be- 
 spattered Tom from head to foot. Cuff Chuck 
 advanced to the platform and attempted to tear 
 down the flag. Seneca, who had learned from 
 Squinty the domestic origin of the banner, cried
 
 78 TOM TAD 
 
 out derisively, "Hurrah for Han Tad's old 
 frock!" 
 
 " Seneca Snooks, you ought to be ashamed of 
 yourself to make fun of the flag of your country. 
 You ought to be respectful to any lady's dress, 
 and consider my feelings, and how would you 
 like it if somebody was to laugh at your sister's 
 dress on a liberty pole." 
 
 This appeal to the finer feelings of the Snooks 
 nature failed of its ingenuous object. Making 
 an ugly face, Barclay pointed his finger at the 
 orator and, in a tone of mockery, drawled out : 
 
 "Tom Tad's sister, 
 A dude kissed her." 
 
 The manner in which this poetical gem was 
 delivered enraged Tom beyond all forbearance. 
 Seneca and Cuff Chuck at once repeated the ex- 
 asperating couplet, adding jeers and hisses. 
 Barclay advanced to within a few feet of the 
 platform, and stood, with his hands in his 
 pockets, staring contemptuously at the small 
 victim of his persecution. It was observed by 
 the mass-meeting that Captain Tadmore's face 
 turned white as ashes. The history of the 
 United States had fallen from his hand. To his 
 right epaulette were clinging elongated drops of 
 egg-yolk, like enormous yellow tears. 
 
 "Tom Tad's sister, 
 A dude kissed her,"
 
 LOSES HIS MORAL COURAGE 79 
 
 chanted Barclay again, glancing from Tom to 
 the fluttering emblem on the bean-pole. 
 
 " Barclay Snooks," said Tom, stepping to the 
 edge of the platform, which was so high that his 
 feet were on a level with Barclay's breast, 
 " Barclay Snooks, you are a liar ! You are an 
 ornery skunk! Now you just get right down 
 on your knees right before that flag and take 
 back what you said, or I'll knock your durn 
 brains out." 
 
 This unexpected speech produced a momentary 
 silence, which was broken by the voice of Bar- 
 clay, saying, 
 
 " O, rats ! " 
 
 In the next instant, Captain Tadmore executed 
 a surprising maneuvre, what might be called in 
 military language, a coup de main. "With the 
 agility of a tiger, he sprang upon the elder 
 Snooks, striking that gentleman so violently as 
 to produce a most alarming effect. The great 
 Barclay, leader of gangs, wearer of long tails, 
 owner of a shooting iron, and smoker of stogies, 
 was knocked breathless and senseless, and he lay 
 sprawling on the ground. His furious adversary 
 began to pound the fallen enemy in the face, 
 when Seneca came to the rescue, seizing Tom by 
 the hair, and assailing him with claws and teeth. 
 But Charley Blogson pounced upon Seneca, and 
 dragged him by the leg, from the conflict. Cuff 
 Chuck immediately took Seneca's place, and, as
 
 80 TOM TAD 
 
 the colored boy was much stronger and heavier 
 than Tom, it seemed likely that his attack would 
 turn the tide of victory. To the surprise of 
 everybody, including himself, the valiant captain 
 dealt his sable antagonist a blood-fetching blow 
 on the nasal organ. The girls screamed, the 
 boys cheered, Cuff cried " Murder," and " old 
 Barclay," recovering his senses, uttered a groan. 
 At this crisis all parties were astonished by a 
 man whose quiet approach no one had noticed, 
 and who now appeared in the midst of the ex- 
 cited throng. "Doctor Eldon!" was the shrill 
 cry of the girls. 
 
 What further vengeance Tom might have 
 taken was prevented by the abject surrender of 
 Barclay, who ignobly muttered, "Enough." 
 The code of honor would not permit the victor 
 to strike another blow after that surrender. 
 Base indeed is the conqueror who grants no 
 quarter to the enemy who confesses before wit- 
 nesses that he has had " enough." Both the com- 
 batants got upon their feet. Barclay took his 
 gun, and, deserted by his brother and Cuff, slunk 
 homeward. Tom, notwithstanding his victory, 
 felt miserable, both in body and in mind. He too 
 slipped away from the company, in sorry plight, 
 and sought his home by way of the stables, the 
 back yard, and the rear entrance. 
 
 The children quickly dispersed, and Uncle 
 Felix, carrying in his hand Tom's School His-
 
 LOSES HIS MOKAL COUKAGE 81 
 
 tory, walked homeward leisurely, not displeased 
 with the issue of the combat he had just wit- 
 nessed. The scene of the late demonstration 
 and revolutionary war was deserted. There 
 stood the platform, with its meagre decoration 
 of pitiful rags ; there lay Captain Tadmore's torn 
 paper cap, the peacock feathers scattered ; there 
 hung languidly in the sultry air the insulted and 
 vindicated banner of liberty, made of sister 
 Han's frock. 
 
 Tom wrote to his Cousin Frank a letter giving 
 his version of the story of his Declaration of In- 
 dependence and its consequences. In this letter, 
 he said : 
 
 " On the * of July, as I was saying, we made 
 our errangements to have a mass-meeting in 
 Charley Blogson's orchard where we fixed up a 
 nostrum for me to make an oration. We had 
 flags and guns out of brooms and wooden swords 
 but mine was tin with red ink for blood on them 
 and plumes out of roosters tales and the proces- 
 sion marched after me with Charley Blogson 
 beating the tin basin for a drum and playing on 
 his mouth to illustrate a band. I kept waving 
 my sword to show them how General Grant 
 looked at the battle of Waterloo and when the 
 crowd came up to the nostrum I hollered out 
 halt! The girls didn't know how to halt but 
 Charley explained to them and after while they 
 got to halting pretty well. Then I rose up and
 
 82 TOM TAD 
 
 began to read the Declamation of Independence 
 when old Barclay Snooks and Seneca and Cuff 
 Chuck and a whole lot of them ruffs came hoot- 
 ing out from behind the barn and began to throw 
 mud and eggs at me. you know them Snooks 
 boys have been a bullying me all my life. Bar- 
 clay is a great big but Seneca is not much bigger 
 than me. Barclay is the feller that went to the 
 circus with the McStaver girls and called me a 
 kid. He is trying to raze a mustash and his voice 
 is changeable and sounds half the time like a 
 bull frog and tother half like a katy-did. 
 
 " Well the band struck up Hell Columbia but 
 them outsiders had no respect for the band. I 
 told them to go away for it was our mass-meet- 
 ing and this was a free Country. Cuff Chuck 
 tried to haul down our flag. When Barclay 
 found out it was sister Han's dress he thought 
 hed rattle me and he came right up near in front 
 of the nostrum and sung out first in his bull-frog 
 voice and then in his katy-did voice some mean 
 insultuous verses about Han. Well then I hadn't 
 a speck of moral curridge left in me and I dove 
 right off the nostrum at him and lit in his stom- 
 ick so hard that it knocked the breath out of him 
 and I began to hit him with all my mite and 
 mane in the face and eyes and shake him till 
 Seneca jumped on me and began to scratch and 
 bite but Charley Blogson went for him and then 
 Cuff Chuck pitched into me and I wasnt a bit
 
 scared but happy and I was a heap stronger than 
 I am and I hit Cuff so hard on the nose that the 
 goar made us both goary when of a sudden there 
 stood Uncle Felix. 
 
 "I snuck home and when mother and sister 
 Han and Aunt Tildy saw me all tore up and 
 muddy and eggy mother said * shame where was 
 your moral curridge.' Well Frank then I told 
 them all about it and how when Barclay said 
 that about Han I hadnt a speck of moral cur- 
 ridge left in me and clean forgot about mother 
 and the hickory-oil and my little coffin and my 
 prayers and pitched in. They didn't say another 
 word but mother kind of laughed and Frank 
 sure as you live sister Han just put her arms 
 around my kneck and gave me the best kiss in 
 her collection."
 
 XIY 
 
 TOM LECTURES ON "ANIMALS AND SO FOARTH " 
 
 THOMAS TADMOEE was not, by choice, a studi- 
 ous and school-going boy. The two things which 
 he held in special aversion were silence and 
 restraint. Give him a wide range and plenty of 
 noise, with some muscular live thing to tussle 
 with, and he was happy. With a sigh, almost a 
 groan, he carried his satchel and shining morning 
 face to the house of instruction when the first of 
 September summoned him from liberty to bond- 
 age, and into the presence of Principal Gadmeter 
 and the whole "faculty" of the Forest Glen 
 Union School. This school was considered good 
 of its kind, but the kind was bad, and so the bet- 
 ter the worse. At least so thought Uncle Felix, 
 who, with all his good nature, was somewhat 
 critical and sarcastic. He regarded the village 
 school as an educational mill which ground out 
 valueless results only to record the daily grists 
 with automatic regularity. The classification of 
 the pupils was exact, the grading precise, the 
 teaching methodical, but the school lacked vital 
 interest. Principal Gadmeter was intent solely 
 on running the machine and he seemed to look 
 84
 
 TOM LECTUKES ON ANIMALS 85 
 
 upon the children as mere material to keep the 
 cogs from rusting. In his view the work of edu- 
 cation consisted in pushing or pulling boys and 
 girls through the course of studies according to 
 the printed "rules of the board." Everything 
 he attempted to teach, even morals and religion, 
 he hoped to impart by mechanical processes. 
 
 The memoriter system which Uncle Felix con- 
 temptuously described as the "goose-liver 
 method," Josephus Gadmeter extolled as the 
 only practical mode of fitting the young for the 
 duties of life. Sometimes, in a public address, 
 when warmed to a high temperature of eloquence 
 and virtue, the Professor delivered thunder to 
 the effect that the Union School of Forest Glen 
 was not only " fitting our youth, male and female, 
 for the duties of this life," but was also " prepar- 
 ing immortal souls for the endless ages of 
 eternity." 
 
 Tom submitted to the inevitable, and, with the 
 rest of his class, was daily fitted for life, death 
 and immortality, by machinery. His ready 
 memory, vivid fancy, and voluble tongue gave 
 him advantage over the average boy of his age. 
 He would rattle off a recitation with the un- 
 thinking fluency of a parrot or a phonograph 
 and, had it not been, as he complained, that " de- 
 portment pulled him down," his percents. would 
 have ranged high in the eighties. 
 
 " "What did you get in 'rithmetic, Charley ? "
 
 86 TOM TAD 
 
 he would ask, and without waiting for a reply, 
 " I got 97 in probs. and 90 in g'ografy and 100 
 in compo., and 100 in declamation. But I only 
 got 42 in spelling, and 23 j^ in conduct. That 
 brings me only a little above 75, average. I 
 don't see why they give me so many demerits ; 
 whisperin' I s'pose or laughin' out loud. I 
 can't help laughin' when there's fun goin' on." 
 
 The teachers were always under Tom's watch- 
 ful eye, and he understood them much better 
 than they knew themselves or him. Had he 
 pored upon his books as industriously as he 
 studied the being, actions, and passions of his 
 mentors, what a scholar he might have become ! 
 He was well aware that Miss Marks of room B 
 could be influenced by donations of red apples ; 
 that Miss Crinkler who had been in the school 
 before the new schoolhouse was built, and before 
 Mr. Gadmeter was elected Principal, was carry- 
 ing on a flirtation with Professor Eipantare, the 
 elocutionist, who came twice a week to drill the 
 senior class in " vocal gymnastics." Tom was 
 certain that the new teacher in grade F was 
 afraid to " put her foot down on behavior," and 
 that she gave out that the answer in the book 
 was wrong, to avoid owning that she couldn't 
 work the problem. The boys had proof that the 
 answer was right, for Jo Bogus possessed a key 
 to the arithmetic. It is a remarkable fact that 
 every pupil in the school knew that Jo had that
 
 TOM LECTUKES ON ANIMALS 8? 
 
 key and used it, while not one of the teachers 
 entertained the slightest suspicion that such was 
 the case. They regarded Jo Bogus as an ex- 
 ceptionally nice and candid boy, who handed in 
 very neat papers, and went to Sunday-school 
 regularly. 
 
 There was one instructor in the school, Miss 
 Grace Belmont, whose skill, wisdom, and devo- 
 tion wrought miracles of inspiration in her 
 pupils, in spite of the unfavorable influence of 
 the " system," and the Procrustean theory of Mr. 
 Gadmeter. This young woman was honored and 
 loved by the entire school ; Tom's admiration for 
 her knew no bounds. 
 
 The daily routine at school tasks did not ab- 
 sorb all of Tom's energies. He found plenty of 
 spare time, before and after school hours, and on 
 Saturdays, to pursue the study of natural his- 
 tory, in his peculiar way. 
 
 " Sam," said he one day to his friend from the 
 riverside, "I've a mind to make up a kind of 
 funny lecture on animals. You know I've got a 
 heap of animal information from reading and 
 fishing and collecting insects and so on. Then 
 I've heard a good many lectures at the natural 
 hist'ry society with lantern slides, and I re'lize 
 how they do it. Uncle Felix is a curate in the 
 museum ; he's a pachyderm, too, you know, and 
 stuffs nearly every day." 
 
 " I thought he was a doctor."
 
 88 TOM TAD 
 
 " Yes, he is ; a doctor and a Ph. D. But he is 
 a pachyderm, too. He has piles of stuffed yaks, 
 and owls in the museum, and snakes and horn 
 toads and I don't know what all, in jars of liquor, 
 and coleopteras on long pins, and books with 
 painted pictures. Science is order reduced to 
 system and pop'lar science is system reduced to 
 disorder, he says. Don't you think I'm posted up 
 well enough to lecture the boys ? " 
 
 Not getting as much encouragement as he ex. 
 pected from Sam, the ambitious young savant 
 laid his plans before Charley Blogson who 
 heartily seconded them. Hand bills scrawled 
 in vari-colored ink were prepared, announcing in 
 big capitals, and with many exclamation points, 
 that Thomas Tadmore, junior, would lecture, in 
 Blogson's barn "next Saturday afternoon at 
 p. M. Sharp, on Animals and So Foarth." The 
 price of admission was fixed at six marbles, or 
 three fish hooks, or two sticks of chewing-gum. 
 The bills stated that no girls would be 
 " aloud " to attend the meeting. Charley acted as 
 doorkeeper, and sergeant-at-arms, and selected 
 for his assistant Squinty Eunkle to whose shirt 
 front was fastened a huge tin-star, the emblem 
 of authority. On the afternoon set apart for 
 Tom's facetious performance, a frolicksome audi- 
 ence assembled on the threshing floor of the 
 great barn. Blogson had piled up a pedestal of 
 hay from the top of which the speaker was to
 
 TOM NOW CAUSED A SENSATION HV I.EAI'IXC FROM THE HAY-I'II.E.
 
 TOM LECTUKES ON ANIMALS 89 
 
 deliver his oration. When all was in readiness 
 for the speech to begin, Charley, grinning from 
 ear to ear, said, " Gentlemen of the Jury, I inter- 
 duce you to a man that don't need any inter- 
 duction." 
 
 Tom, who, up to this crisis, had been invisible, 
 now caused a sensation by leaping down to the 
 hay-pile from a mow in which he had lain con- 
 cealed. He wore an old swallow-tailed coat, had 
 a newspaper spread over his breast to represent 
 a dress shirt, and his nose supported a pair of 
 spectacles with no glass in the rims. After bow- 
 ing low, to the front, to the right and to the left, 
 he cleared his throat and began : 
 
 " Fellow vertebrates ; 
 
 "Man is an animal and boy is 
 an animal and I am glad to see so many of 
 you animals here. "We ought to pursue animals, 
 for they are the mainspring of education, and, 
 as Professor Gadmeter says, they help a heap to 
 develop the manhood and womanhood in a boy, 
 and to draw out character. Boys, you ought to 
 have your character clean drawed out of you, 
 like me and Charley. 
 
 " Now pay 'tention. All animals with a few 
 exceptions, is more or less alike. We shall 
 divide them up into two classes : first them that 
 are more alike, and, second, them that are less 
 alike. Fish belongs to the former and birds to 
 the latter. You all know cat-fish and cat-birds.
 
 90 TOM TAD 
 
 The cat-fish is a more peculiar quadruped than 
 the cat-bird. Their young are called kit-fish 
 because their favorite haunt is a fish-kit. The 
 crawfish hasn't any craw. I reckon crabs eat 
 crab-apples. Hold on ; I've got some notes here 
 in my memory random book. O yes ! here we 
 are. 
 
 "Next to fish comes birds and aves. I've got 
 a collection of them, hard to beat, as far as it 
 goes. I have collected one bird and one ovum. 
 The tropical longitudes is more favorable to the 
 feathered tribes, 'specially ostriches, which lay 
 alligator's eggs. A penquin is a marsupial fowl, 
 so called because the natives use the tail-feathers 
 to make pens like goose quills. A young goose 
 is called a gosling and a young moose is a mos- 
 ling. Birds chaw with their gizzards. 
 
 "And now to sum up. "We have explained 
 two halves of our subject, viz., namely, birds and 
 fish. In birds we include two sorts, viz., namely, 
 birds proper and birds improper. Fish is more 
 widespread, but the bulk of them may be slung 
 under two heads, viz., namely, real fish and craw- 
 fish. Real fish we divide into big and little, and 
 crawfish into live and dead, which takes them 
 all in." 
 
 At this point the applause became uproarious 
 and the sergeant-at-arms had all he could do to 
 restore silence. The speaker bowed his thanks 
 and continued.
 
 TOM LECTURES ON ANIMALS 91 
 
 u I am sorry for the boy who reads light read- 
 ing. Heavy is best. Animals is a fact. Zoology 
 is the most solidifying reading you can git a hold 
 of. It takes brains. But as Professor Gadmeter 
 always tells you, obstacles overcome every effort. 
 Order is heaven's first law. Genus is the second, 
 and so on. 
 
 "There is two kinds of whales the right 
 whale and the wrong whale. Whales carry har- 
 poons to defend themselves against the icebergs. 
 You think a whale is a big fish, but you are 
 away off, because you don't know beans about 
 zoology. A whale is somewhat like a fish. But 
 he is morewhat unlike a fish. The whale is full 
 of whale-blubber, which is used to feed Eskimos. 
 
 " Here I have a picture of the gnu," (Tom dis- 
 played a large charcoal sketch). " It is found in 
 the wilds of Africa and maybe in the tames of 
 Asia. This is an old gnu. I guess it came from 
 the gnu world. 
 
 " I could tell you lots more, but you've had 
 your chewing-gum's worth. There's a beast 
 called the unicorn. I never saw one in this 
 country though I've lived here all my life. 
 Travelers say he eats unicorn cakes. The rattle- 
 snake is a beautiful provision of nature. They 
 are good to eat. You have to take off their 
 rattles so they can't bite you." 
 
 The audience greeted this bit of science with 
 prolonged cries of " Ah ! "
 
 92 TOM TAD 
 
 " You think you'll rattle me, do you ? I meant 
 to tell you about sponges and mummies, but I'll 
 leave that part out. Uncle Felix has a mummy 
 in the museum that he caught on its nest, in the 
 jungles of Egypt. It died on the voyage and is 
 now an extinc specie." 
 
 The good-natured clamor of the boys quite 
 drowned the speech of the mock lecturer. 
 
 " Come to Order," cried Blogson at the top of 
 his voice. 
 
 "Come to Order," squeaked Squinty Eunkle 
 with a silly grimace. 
 
 " Come to Order," yelled all the boys together. 
 
 " Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your 
 ears ! " shouted Tom. " I come not here to talk. 
 Let that plebeian talk ! " pointing to Squinty. 
 "But here I come to speak what I do know. 
 And I do know," cried the orator, jumping down 
 from the hay-pile and stripping off his swallow- 
 tail, " I do know that the wild grapes are getting 
 ripe in Squire Hoyle's woods, and I'm hungry, 
 and who'll follow me ? " 
 
 " I ! I ! I ! " answered the boys in concert. 
 The barn was deserted in a moment, and all went 
 scurrying across the fields, and over fences, away, 
 away to the woods of Squire Hoyle, Tom leading 
 the van and Squinty bringing up the rear.
 
 XY 
 
 A EAID ON SQUIRE HOYLE'S OEOHAED 
 
 THE young marauders guided by Tom, found 
 the spot where the wild grape-vines grew, but, to 
 their disappointment, the vines had been rifled of 
 most of the fruit. Broken branches and fresh 
 leaves strewn upon the ground gave evidence 
 that other robbers of the greenwood had very 
 recently been up the trees, and had stolen the 
 coveted purple bunches. 
 
 " "We are too late," exclaimed Blogson ; " some- 
 body's been ahead of us." 
 
 " Yander they are," said Squinty. 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Yander I seed Sineca Snooks go in that holler 
 tree, I did." 
 
 With a whoop and hallo Tom and his tribe ran 
 to the tree. It was a huge sycamore so much 
 rotted and burned out that the cavity in its trunk 
 formed a room large enough to hold half a dozen 
 boys. Within this sylvan hiding-place three 
 persons were discovered, Seneca Snooks, Bar- 
 clay, and Cuff Chuck. The spoils of the grape- 
 vines were also there. Barclay was seated with 
 his legs wide apart, and his back resting against 
 
 93
 
 94 TOM TAD 
 
 the black wall of the tree: he was smoking a 
 stogie. 
 
 Tom was first to look in upon his late foe, 
 whom he had not met since the fight on the 
 Fourth of July. 
 
 " What you want ? " growled Barclay. 
 
 " Grapes," was the prompt reply. 
 
 By this time Tom's whole party had gathered 
 at the door of Barclay's house. The great man 
 thought it best to be accommodating. 
 
 " There's nothing mean about me," he said, in 
 conciliatory tones. "Of course I'll sheer with 
 my friends. Sineca, give them grapes to Mr. 
 Tadmore, and these gentlemen." 
 
 Seneca proceeded to divide the pillaged fruit. 
 The grapes, not half ripe, were fiercely sour, 
 bitter and astringent. But the boys ate them 
 with avidity and called them delicious. 
 
 " Where's your gun ? " asked Tom, not seeing 
 that precious engine. 
 
 "I'm having a new silver plate put on the 
 stock. The gunsmith said he would put one on 
 fer four dollars, and I said, ' Go ahead, I don't 
 keer fer money: put her on if it costs ten 
 dollars.' " 
 
 " What will you take for the gun when the 
 plate is on ? " 
 
 " I don't keer to part with that gun fer no money. 
 My gran'daddy paid five hundred dollars fer it 
 when it was new wasn't it five hundred, Sineca ? "
 
 KAID ON HOYLE'S OECHARD 95 
 
 " That was before I was born," replied Seneca 
 cautiously, for he knew that the boys considered 
 Barclay a notorious stretcher of the truth. 
 
 "Guns was mighty dear in them days," re- 
 marked Barclay, "I'll let it go to a friend fer 
 fifty dollars. If you wanted that gun, Tadmore, 
 I'd let it go fer twenty-five dollars cash." 
 
 "I've only got ten dollars, altogether," con- 
 fessed Tom, " and I want to get me a bicycle and 
 a pony, as well as a gun." 
 
 " I need a little hard cash now to lend to a 
 feller, or I'd jist as soon give you that gun. I've 
 loaned out most of my funds. I spend a good 
 deal, too, on hosses and dogs ; I've lost scandal- 
 ous sence we moved down here. You remember 
 Sineca, when we lived up at Christiansburg, 
 we had slathers of money ? " 
 
 " Lots and gobs," assented Seneca. 
 
 "I'd like to go back to the old place, gaul 
 durned if I wouldn't," resumed the great man. 
 " "We built a four-story house with eight rooms 
 in every story and a tower. We had butcher's 
 meat every day." 
 
 " Gosh ! " This from Squinty Runkle. 
 
 " And store-tea," Seneca ventured to say. 
 
 " We raised our own tea up at Christiansburg, 
 Seneca." 
 
 " But tea don't grow in this country," said one 
 of the boys. 
 
 " Don't you think I know that ? " retorted
 
 96 TOM TAD 
 
 Barclay indignantly. " This tea was raised in a 
 hot-house. That's the way we raised our own 
 
 coffee too But, gentlemen, I've been a 
 
 plannin' fer you." 
 
 "How's that?" asked Tom; "plannin' 
 what?" 
 
 Barclay emerged from the tree trunk, threw 
 away the stub of his cigar, which Cuff Chuck 
 picked up, and, after a mysterious pause, said in 
 a low voice, " If there's any white-livers in this 
 crowd, let them sneak to their dens." Barclay 
 paused again, and, no one sneaking to a den, the 
 inference was that there were no white-livers pres- 
 ent. " If there's any brave men here, let them f oiler 
 their leader and do what he says." Tom and his 
 friends did not relish the idea of proving their 
 bravery at the sacrifice of owning Barclay for 
 captain. Nevertheless, no one demurred, since 
 they were all curious to learn what enterprise 
 was ahead of them. The courageous Snooks, 
 like some new Robin Hood, headed the little band 
 of foresters, and marched cautiously from the 
 woods, and across a wide field, and finally up 
 along a narrow lane terminating at a set of 
 " bars " in a fence on the other side of which was 
 Squire Hoyle's apple orchard. 
 
 " Now you drap onto my plan. I'll stand here 
 and watch out fer the dog, or the Squire, and 
 you boys jist slide over the fence, and slip up to 
 that big tree with the yeller apples."
 
 RAID ON HOYLE'S ORCHARD 97 
 
 " No 1 " protested Tom. " No, I won't steal. 
 Come on, boys ; let's go away." 
 
 " Why didn't you go away when I gave you a 
 chance in the woods ? " 
 
 " You didn't tell us you were going to steal. 
 I'm no white-liver, Barclay Snooks, and you 
 know it." 
 
 " I ain't a callin' you a white-liver. You're a 
 blackenin' my repputtation, callin' me a thief." 
 
 " Well, you are a thief, if you steal. What is 
 a thief ? " 
 
 " Well," said Barclay maliciously, " I s'pose a 
 boy that gits grapes that don't belong to him is 
 a thief." 
 
 " That's different." 
 
 " Yaas, that's different," mocked the large boy. 
 " Gittin' grapes is stealin' without danger, and 
 gittin' apples in a bold way, is stealin' with 
 danger. I'd ruther be a robber nor a sneak- 
 thief." 
 
 " I won't steal," said Tom. " You boys can 
 do as you like. I'm going home. Come on, 
 Charley." 
 
 " You are too durned good fer this world. Go 
 to your mammies. I'm bound to have some 
 apples. Sineca, you and Cuff climb over and run 
 to that there tree and fetch me your hats full of 
 the biggest." 
 
 The two boys thus ordered, obeyed, though 
 unwillingly, and Squinty could not resist the
 
 98 TOM TAD 
 
 temptation to fill his hat also. Influenced by 
 the example of these three petty thieves, and by 
 the cries of a ravenous appetite, two of Tom's 
 companions, Wesley Crooke and Jo Bogus, 
 joined the pillagers. Barclay had the discretion 
 to remain outside the orchard. The five foragers 
 with nimble celerity gathered their hats, pockets, 
 and hands full of apples, not failing to utilize their 
 mouths by taking many a " hog-bite." They 
 were about ready to rejoin Barclay, when that 
 vigilant sentinel observed to his dismay, that 
 Squire Hoyle himself was coming down the lane, 
 and was not a hundred feet from the bars. 
 Barclay saw one chance of self-exculpation. As- 
 suming an air of virtuous rage he bawled out, 
 
 "Hey there! You young scoundrels. Git 
 out of Squire Hoyle's orchard or I'll thrash every 
 mother's son of you. Hain't you ashamed to 
 steal of such a nice man as Squire Hoyle ! Why, 
 sure as I live, here is the gentleman now. 
 'Scuse me, Squire Hoyle, I seed a squad of nasty, 
 low-lived boys in your orchard, and I run over 
 here to drive them off." 
 
 " You are the scurviest whelp of the pack ! " 
 cried the Squire, brandishing a hickory gad and 
 bringing it down with a swish on Barclay's back. 
 "You worthless, sneaking, lying rascal." And 
 he trounced Barclay until the wretched youth 
 was barely able to limp home. 
 
 The pilferers escaped, clinging to their plunder.
 
 EAID ON HOYLE'S ORCHARD 99 
 
 Once safely out of the orchard, they sped after 
 Tom and his companion. Alas for the weakness of 
 human nature and the power of youthful appe- 
 tite ! This chronicle is sorry to report that the 
 moral virtue which resisted the temptation to 
 steal, yielded to the desire to taste Squire 
 Hoyle's apples, and, like our first parents, Tom 
 and his comrade partook of fruit not only for- 
 bidden, but stolen.
 
 XVI 
 
 PRINCIPAL GADMETER'S SAGACITY 
 
 SQUIRE HOYLE made haste to inform the school 
 authorities that his orchard had been pillaged, 
 and to demand that Mr. Gadmeter identify and 
 punish the robbers. This the professor cheer- 
 fully consented to do, for he was one of those 
 just men who hold that it is better that ninety 
 and nine innocent boys should suffer than that 
 one guilty should escape. He prided himself on 
 his detective ability, and was in the habit of 
 assuming that he knew all that was going on in 
 the little world over which he ruled ; he claimed 
 not only to understand the dispositions, but even 
 to read the thoughts and motives of the boys and 
 girls. " I have eyes in the back of my head," he 
 would say. 
 
 The indignant Squire called at the Principal's 
 house on Saturday evening and stated his 
 grievance. 
 
 " I'm not a man to make a fuss," were his in- 
 troductory words. "But I'm not a man that 
 will stand everything. I won't stand it to have 
 those tarnal boys steal my apples." And he 
 100
 
 GADMETER'S SAGACITY 101 
 
 proceeded to relate the sad story of the depreda- 
 tions made on his orchard that afternoon. 
 
 "I caught one of the ring-leaders, and gave 
 him a trouncing : that was this great lazy Snooks 
 boy, almost a man grown." 
 
 " Those Snooks boys are not members of our 
 school, and, in fact, sir, I feel sure that no boy 
 who is a member of our Union School would be 
 guilty of pilfering. That would be contrary to 
 the Rules of the Board, and to the moral instruc- 
 tion which I impart. Character is the main 
 thing we aim to develop. I venture to assure 
 you, sir, that no other school in the State gives 
 so much attention to fitting youths for the 
 duties of life, as does the Union School of Forest 
 Glen." 
 
 " That's all right, Mr. Gadmeter, but a pack of 
 your boys robbed my orchard this afternoon, 
 and I want you to find them out and make an 
 example of them." 
 
 "How do you know they were from our 
 school ? I have told you that the Snooks boys 
 are not." 
 
 " I'll tell you ; I was coming up the lane and 
 I met a dozen or more youngsters, that I know 
 belong to the school, among them was young 
 Blogson, and that spry little Tommy Tadmore." 
 
 "A troublesome boy," said Mr. Gadmeter, 
 twisting his beard. (Josephus Gadmeter wore a 
 ferocious black beard, and so thick a mustache
 
 102 TOM TAD 
 
 that no one had ever seen his lips. His white 
 teeth were almost frightfully visible behind the 
 dark fringe on his mouth.) " A troublesome 
 boy, hard to manage, conceited." 
 
 " Is he ? " queried the Squire, a smile forcing 
 its way though the grimness of his frowning 
 face. " He is an amusing little scamp, as quick 
 as a flash ; and well bred too ; he was the only 
 boy in the batch that took off his hat to me." 
 
 "He puts on a good deal of politeness,'* 
 answered Gadmeter, " but I fear he is deceit- 
 ful." 
 
 " Another one that I knew was Judge Bogus's 
 son Jo, I think his name is." 
 
 " Joseph Bogus ! A nice boy, Squire ; an ex- 
 ceedingly promising boy. Manly, frank, up- 
 right. That boy wouldn't steal a blade of 
 grass. Impossible." 
 
 " I don't say that he did, or that any of the 
 crowd did; but I suspect that they knew all 
 about the stealing. I went on to the end of the 
 lane and there I found Snooks, and gave him 
 something to remember me by." Mr. Gadmeter 
 threw back his head and a chuckle came from 
 the gap betwixt his white teeth. The Squire 
 proceeded : " While I was entertaining Mr. 
 Snooks, five or six smaller boys scampered from 
 the orchard with their hats full of apples." 
 
 " Ah I I thought so," said Mr. Gadmeter. 
 
 "I asked Snooks who they were," continued
 
 GADMETER'S SAGACITY 103 
 
 the Squire; "he said he wasn't sure, but he 
 thought one of them was Tadmore and another 
 Blogson. When I told him that could not be 
 so, for I had seen those boys in the lane, he said 
 he was sure he knew one of the thieves, a boy 
 of very reckless character, a young desperado 
 named Runkle." 
 
 " I never heard the name before," said Gad- 
 meter. " He doesn't belong to our school. We 
 have no desperate characters." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Gadmeter," said the Squire, rising 
 to go, " I have given you the clew. I wish you 
 would investigate the matter. Be a little quiet 
 about it, and make some inquiries. You might 
 quiz that boy Josy Bogus." 
 
 " Just the thing ! I was about to suggest the 
 same idea. Trust me, Squire Hoyle, to ferret 
 out mischief. I know all about the ways of 
 boys. They know it's no use to try to fool me." 
 
 The Squire took his leave, and Mr. Gadmeter 
 immediately set about sinking his nets as he 
 termed it. A good part of the Holy Sabbath 
 Day was dedicated to "sinking nets." One of 
 these " nets " was cast around Master Joseph 
 Bogus, who, being invited to call at the Princi- 
 pal's house, made his appearance after tea. 
 
 "Joey, step into the library," said Mr. Gad- 
 meter, and he affectionately patted that candid 
 model on the head. "Joey, I think from the 
 present state of the records, that you stand a
 
 104 TOM TAD 
 
 first-rate chance of taking the medal for excel- 
 lence in arithmetic." 
 
 " I'm working hard for it, sir." 
 
 " Yes, I know you are : working like a beaver. 
 You are on the right track. You neither ask 
 help nor give help. You are fitting yourself for 
 the duties of life, and, I trust, for endless ages 
 of immortality. Joey, where were you yester- 
 day?" 
 
 Forewarned is forearmed. Joey was on his 
 guard. "I was at home studying arithmetic 
 most of the day." 
 
 " "Were you out in the afternoon walking with 
 some of the boys ? " 
 
 "I was over at Blogson's barn, where Tom 
 Tad was making a speech." 
 
 "So I understand," remarked Mr. Gadmeter. 
 Joseph was wary and wily. He doubted 
 whether the professor " understood " so much 
 as he "let on." 
 
 " We had a spelling-match after the speech ; " 
 Joseph put forth this whopper to test the ful- 
 ness and accuracy of his honored Principal's un- 
 derstanding. The man swallowed the bait. 
 
 " Yes, I know you had. Which of you came 
 out best?" The Principal felt that he had 
 gained a point, and was extremely anxious to get 
 another. He looked at Joseph with an air of 
 paternal pride, which said as plain as words 
 could say, "Now, Joey, don't be modest, but
 
 GADMETER'S SAGACITY 105 
 
 speak out and let me share your triumph ; you 
 came out best." Joseph was a mind reader, as 
 well as a consulter of keys and ponies. " I be- 
 lieve, Mr. Gadmeter, that you know everything 
 and see everywhere. As you say, you have eyes 
 in the back of your head, and you seem to look 
 through walls and roofs, and to hear whatever 
 we boys say when we are miles and miles away." 
 Mr. Gadmeter was flattered. 
 
 " Well, well, well ! " he said, throwing back 
 his head in his peculiar manner. " I suppose I 
 do have ways and means of finding out what is 
 going on, ways and means that you boys have 
 no idea of. The birds tell me many a secret. I 
 never go out of my way, Joey, to spy into the 
 conduct of my pupils. I trust them and believe 
 them, and they trust and believe me, and tell me 
 everything." 
 
 " They can't help it," blandly assented Joseph 
 Bogus ; " and if they could, you would find it 
 out anyhow." 
 
 " I think I have the confidence of my pupils ; 
 I believe I have your confidence. But I don't 
 want to embarrass you in any way, shape, 
 form or manner. "Whatever you say to me 
 here, in the privacy of my own house, shall 
 be, as it were, between you and me and the gate- 
 post." 
 
 Joseph felt in his heart, that if he had any 
 secrets to confide, his best course would be to
 
 106 TOM TAD 
 
 limit his confidence to the gate-post. But he 
 said very candidly, " Oh, of course." 
 
 " I have a special reason for wishing to learn 
 whether my information is correct in regard to 
 what happened after you had the spelling-match in 
 the barn. There are stories afloat, Joseph, (lies, no 
 doubt) which touch your character for honesty. 
 Now I advise you to make a clean breast of the 
 whole affair. How was it ? " 
 
 Joseph was no gudgeon. He thought he saw 
 the meshes of the net. 
 
 " I don't know what you mean." 
 
 "Where did you go after you left the 
 barn?" 
 
 " "We went to the woods. Tom wanted to get 
 some wild grapes in Squire Hoyle's woods." 
 
 "Yes. Goon." 
 
 " We didn't find the grapes on the vines, but 
 we met Barclay Snooks and his brother and they 
 gave us grapes." 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " And then we went across the field and down 
 Squire Hoyle's lane, and by his orchard." 
 
 "By his orchard? Did any of the boys go 
 into the orchard ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know what the others might 
 have done after I came away. I came away and 
 left some of the boys standing there." 
 
 " I see, Joseph, I see. It is pretty much as I 
 supposed. You don't need to tell me anything
 
 GADMETER'S SAGACITY 107 
 
 more. Tadmore, you say, proposed to go to the 
 woods, and there you met the Snooks boys. Yes, 
 yes. Come and see me again, Joseph. Come 
 often,"
 
 XYII 
 
 TOM GETS A FLOGGING 
 
 ON Monday morning Mr. Gadmeter notified 
 Miss Grace Belmont that he would come to her 
 room immediately after the opening of school, to 
 inquire into a small matter of discipline. 
 
 "You need not call your first class. I shall 
 perhaps wish to occupy half an hour or so ques- 
 tioning the scholars. The case I shall investi- 
 gate is one which concerns the reputation of the 
 school." 
 
 "What is the nature of it?" inquired Miss 
 Belmont. 
 
 " Well, it is a case involving the honesty of 
 one or two of the boys. We must vindicate the 
 character of the school." 
 
 "Would it not be better to investigate the 
 matter privately ? " 
 
 " No, the more publicly the better. We must 
 show these boys and girls just how we stand on 
 morals. I believe in crowning virtue and crush- 
 ing vice." 
 
 The bell rang, and the pupils filed to their 
 respective rooms, Tom and Charley unconscious 
 of the disturbance they had created in the Prin- 
 
 108
 
 TOM GETS A FLOGGING 109 
 
 cipal's mind, and scarcely remembering the 
 events of Saturday, came in at the door as if 
 some rollicking breeze had blown them to school. 
 Tom paused a moment to lay an apple and a 
 sprig of goldenrod on the table, a morning 
 offering to the divinity of the place. The slight 
 confusion caused by the general seating had 
 scarcely subsided, when Mr. Gadmeter stepped 
 into the room very softly and walked to the 
 platform on which the table stood. He motioned 
 Miss Belmont to be seated, and then opened a 
 small Bible which he carried in his hand. 
 
 " We will read for our instruction this morn- 
 ing, a single verse from the twentieth chapter 
 of the Book of Genesis. It is the fifteenth verse 
 of the chapter, and is one of the Ten Command- 
 ments. * Thou shalt not steal.' ' : The impress- 
 ive manner in which the Principal read these 
 four words was dramatic. The scholars were 
 startled. " Thou shalt not steal" repeated Mr. 
 Gadmeter and closed the book. 
 
 Tom Tadmore glanced at Charley, who in his 
 turn stole a furtive look at Joseph Bogus. Jo- 
 seph Bogus was already deeply buried in arith- 
 metic. His seat-mate, Wesley Crooke, was ab- 
 sent that morning. 
 
 " It is my painful duty, scholars, to interrupt 
 your lessons long enough to impress upon your 
 minds the paramount importance this school, and 
 we teachers, attach to the virtue of honesty ; and,
 
 110 TOM TAD 
 
 I may add, the hatred and abhorrence in which 
 we hold dishonesty. There are some present 
 who will realize the hidden meaning of my 
 words. But I do not propose that my meaning 
 shall long remain hidden from any of you. 
 This school exists to fit you for the duties of life, 
 and for the endless ages of eternity. Thomas 
 Tadmore, please step this way." 
 
 If Mr. Gadmeter's reading was dramatic, what 
 shall we say of his speech and summons ? They 
 were blood-curdling. You could have heard a 
 fly whisper. Tom heard his heart beat so loud 
 that he was provoked at the noise it made ; he 
 feared the boy next to him would hear the 
 cowardly thing throb. He rose and came to the 
 front. All eyes were upon him, except those of 
 Jo Bogus, which clung to the arithmetic, page 
 64, " Discount." 
 
 *' Thomas." 
 
 "Sir?" The way in which Thomas said 
 " sir ? " was droll enough though not in the 
 least impudent. Tom couldn't for the life of 
 him think of anything polite to say. So he said 
 "sir?" 
 
 " Don't be saucy." 
 
 Tom had not meant to be saucy. Now he felt 
 under obligation to be so. But he choked the 
 feeling down and said, 
 
 " I beg your pardon." 
 
 This phrase offended Mr. Gadmeter still more ;
 
 TOM GETS A FLOGGING 111 
 
 he thought he detected in it a spirit of mocking 
 and contempt of court. 
 
 "You may have reason to beg pardon, my 
 pardon, and that of the school." 
 
 Tom stared at the ceiling and his eyes watered. 
 So did those of Miss Belmont. She picked up 
 the sprig of goldenrod and fingered it nervously. 
 
 "I am glad to see you have some feeling. 
 Your tears confess your fault. Are you guilty ? " 
 
 "Yes," said the confused lad sobbing, and 
 absolutely ignorant of the nature of the charge 
 harbored against him. " Yes, he pushed me out 
 of the line and I " 
 
 " That has nothing to do with the matter," in- 
 terrupted the Principal. " You know well 
 enough that I am referring to the affair of Satur- 
 day. Didn't you steal some apples ? " 
 
 " No ! " said Tom in a loud voice, dashing the 
 tears from his eyes, and glancing around the 
 room defiantly. " Who says I did ? He tells a 
 lie!" 
 
 "Kemember where you are," said Mr. Gad- 
 meter, showing signs of temper. "Kemember 
 whom you are speaking to, and use proper lan- 
 guage. Do you pretend to say you know noth- 
 ing about the theft of last Saturday, when you 
 and several other boys were in Squire Hoyle's 
 woods, and afterwards in his orchard ? " 
 
 " I was not in his orchard. There was a lot 
 of us over there, but only a few went into the
 
 112 TOM TAD 
 
 orchard, and most of us came away. They can 
 speak for themselves." 
 
 " Didn't you touch any of the apples ? " 
 
 " Yes, the boys gave me three, and I ate two 
 of them." 
 
 " Oh, you did, did you ? They were pretty 
 good apples, weren't they, now ? " 
 
 Several of the boys laughed at this humorous 
 question and Tom himself joined in the merri- 
 ment, but in a restrained manner. 
 
 " They were good, eh ! Thomas ? " 
 
 " They were first-rate." 
 
 This was not an uncivil answer, but to Mr. 
 Gadmeter, who, for some reason, had a strong 
 prejudice against Tom, it smacked of levity and 
 disrespect. The gentleman, forgetting his own 
 dignity, scowled at the boy, and made use of the 
 rather vulgar and trite rebuke, "No more of 
 your sauce ! " The expression associating itself 
 with the accusation against Tom, suggested a pun 
 and, his habit of speaking out whatever came 
 into his fancy, prevailing over discretion, he let 
 slip the words "apple sauce." The Principal 
 heard, but restrained his wrath, and resumed his 
 questioning with severe calmness. 
 
 " You say the boys gave you three apples and 
 you ate two ; what became of the third ? " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 "I say, what became of the third of those 
 good apples ? " The culprit involuntarily turned
 
 TOM GETS A FLOGGING 113 
 
 his face towards Miss Belmont. His eyes met 
 hers ; then they rested for a moment upon the 
 big yellow apple which lay in full view on the 
 table. The school instantly translated the panto- 
 mime, and a thrill ran from heart to heart. 
 There was an uneasy rustling of dresses on the 
 girls' side of the house. 
 
 "This is the stolen apple you did not eat, 
 is it?" 
 
 " I did not steal it, Mr. Gadmeter." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that. A boy that will 
 steal may speak a falsehood. Besides you re- 
 ceived the stolen fruit, and that is the same as 
 stealing. Who did actually take the apples 
 from the orchard? Tell me the names of the 
 boys." 
 
 A deep silence. 
 
 " Will you tell me their names ? " 
 
 "No, sir, I won't." 
 
 " You won't ? We shall see. If you think to 
 put your will against mine, young man, we shall 
 see who is the strongest. Joseph, go to my room 
 and bring my rattan." 
 
 Joseph Bogus complied with this command, 
 and after handing the rattan to his honored Prin- 
 cipal he sat down and opened his arithmetic, 
 reading silently at the top of the page "Com- 
 pound Interest." Mr. Gadmeter took the rod in 
 his hand and raised it to strike. Melissa Brown, 
 a charming little girl with a profusion of curls,
 
 114 TOM TAD 
 
 put her face in her handkerchief and began to 
 weep. 
 
 " "Will you tell me the names of the boys who 
 stole Squire Hoyle's apples ? " 
 
 The hardened criminal shook his head. A 
 blow fell upon his shoulders ! another ! another I 
 a shower of quick sharp blows ! the criminal 
 winced. Miss Belmont stepped to the Principal's 
 side and touched his elbow. 
 
 "Mr. Gadmeter, you are forgetting yourself. 
 You are angry." This was spoken in a very 
 earnest tone, but so low that none but Tom and 
 the Principal could hear it. 
 
 " I know what I am about," replied the excited 
 man roughly. " Authority must be maintained. 
 Do you suppose I am going to allow a boy to 
 conquer me before the whole school ? He must 
 yield." Schoolmasters are but human. The 
 mildest soul has some savage element. Mr. Gad- 
 meter was not mild, and he had allowed the tiger 
 of his nature to leap to his brain. 
 
 " I ask again and for the last time, will you 
 tell me the names ? " 
 
 All the stubborn blood of the boy cried No in 
 his veins. He was of the stuff that martyrs are 
 made of. Such was the lad's fortitude that at 
 the moment he took a fierce pride in the pain he 
 bore, and his young American courage steeled 
 him to think he would rather die than yield. 
 The thwacking blows of the rattan fell merci-
 
 TOM GETS A FLOGGING 115 
 
 lessly upon his shoulders and back. Tom's face 
 grew livid. Grace Belmont made an effort to 
 snatch the rod from the Principal's hand. 
 
 "Shame!" she said, "this is brutal! The 
 punishment is cruel and unreasonable." 
 
 The pupils were upon their feet, one and all, 
 and came crowding forward. Many were cry- 
 ing. The boys clenched their fists. The purple 
 flush forsook Tom's cheeks and he became 
 ghastly pale, he reeled and caught at a desk to 
 keep from falling to the floor. 
 
 Mr. Gadmeter suddenly realized the rashness 
 of his proceeding. Visions of a lawsuit rose in 
 his imagination. He recollected that Thomas 
 Tadmore, senior, was not a person of mild temper. 
 Conscious of defeat, he assumed an air of supreme 
 authority, sternly commanded Tom to take his 
 seat, and himself left the room and went to his 
 private office to reflect on his folly and consider 
 how he might recover lost power and self-re- 
 spect. 
 
 "Please all take your seats," requested Miss 
 Belmont in a low tone, and the boys and girls 
 immediately obeyed. A profound silence-pre- 
 vailed. Tom staggered to his place hardly real- 
 izing what had happened, or where he was. He 
 rested his forehead in his hands upon his desk. 
 
 " The class in arithmetic will recite." 
 
 A large division of pupils came to the recita- 
 tion benches, Joseph Bogus at the head, but the
 
 116 TOM TAD 
 
 work of the forenoon passed off like a funeral 
 service. At recess, Tom took his hat and went 
 to the play-ground as usual. Joseph Bogus pru- 
 dently stayed at his desk. The boys who were 
 concerned in the doing of Saturday crowded 
 around their hero, who rubbed his shoulders, and 
 said with a ghastly grin, " He fetched the red, 
 boys, but I didn't give you away, did I ? " 
 
 Miss Belmont, sitting by herself while the 
 boys and girls were at play, did not eat her 
 luncheon. She took Tom's apple in her hand, 
 and the scene of the morning came back so 
 vividly and pathetically, that her breast labored 
 and great tears of pity rolled down her cheeks. 
 Melissa Brown came to the open door and looked 
 in, but spoke not, and soon went away, loving 
 Miss Belmont more than ever. When the school 
 assembled after recess, the teacher's kind face 
 was as serene as usual. And Tom's was osten- 
 tatiously cheerful. Incredible as it may seem, 
 the boy, when he went home that evening, said 
 not a word about the flogging he had received. 
 He was rather irritable and uncommunicative 
 and went to bed quite early. 
 
 As for the exemplary Joseph Bogus, he escaped 
 the rod of school justice, for none of the boys 
 turned state's evidence against him. But he did 
 not escape the summary vengeance of Sam 
 toggle who waited for him in the public road, 
 that evening, and thrashed him with the enthusi-
 
 TOM GETS A FLOGGING 117 
 
 astic ardor of a rough boy who feels it his duty 
 to vindicate injured innocence and to rebuke 
 sneaking hypocrisy. 
 
 Mr. Gadmeter was for several days very un- 
 easy for fear of a wrathy visitation from Thomas 
 Tadmore, senior, or from Felix Eldon. But 
 those gentlemen, not hearing of Tom's whipping 
 until a fortnight after it had passed into local 
 history, reflected that the time for retaliation had 
 gone by, and that it would be ridiculous to dig up 
 the hatchet which Tom had so carefully buried. 
 However, they did not think any better of Jo- 
 sephus Gadmeter, or of his method of fitting 
 boys for the duties of life.
 
 XVIII 
 
 BARCLAY PLAYS THE BEAU 
 
 THROUGH the generosity of Dr. Eldon, the 
 Koggle family was enabled to abandon the shanty- 
 boat for more commodious quarters, in a frame 
 house situated very near the Ohio River, a 
 property belonging to Mr. Tadmore. Grand- 
 father Barton protested against the removal, but 
 his objections were overruled. 
 
 About four o'clock in the afternoon of a fine 
 summer day, a young man carrying in his hand 
 a slim, mottled cane, knocked on the door of the 
 Noggle house. Two overgrown girls standing 
 on the river's margin, waved their handkerchiefs 
 towards the young man, who had parted company 
 with them a few minutes before, and was soon to 
 rejoin them. 
 
 The elder of the two spoke to the younger 
 very snappishly : 
 
 "You needn't do everything I do, Each. 
 Can't I wave my handkercher without your 
 doing the same thing ? " 
 
 " I'll do whatever I've a mind to, and not ask 
 you," retorted the other. "You are not my 
 mistress, Beck McStaver. I've got as good a 
 
 118
 
 BAKCLAY PLAYS THE BEAU 119 
 
 right to wave my handkercher as you have. 
 He's not your company any more than mine. 
 He asked us both to take a skift-ride with him, 
 and he asked me first." 
 
 " Asked you first ! You know he would never 
 ask you at all, if you was not my sister. If you 
 think Barclay cares particularly for you, you are 
 mistaken. You shouldn't be forward; it don't 
 look well in a person of your age." 
 
 " I hear you but I don't fear you," answered 
 Miss Rachel. " I know I'm not as old as you, 
 nor as ugly ; and you ain't as young as me." 
 
 " Nor so pretty, why didn't you say, you im- 
 pudent fright ? Yes, you are a beauty ! You 
 are a sweet-tempered creature sweet as lemon 
 juice. Don't make mouths at me ! I'd smack 
 your face if we were at home." 
 
 "You would, would you? You would? 
 Temper ! My ! Everybody knows that you are 
 the worst dispositioned person in Forest Glen. 
 Shut up ? I won't shut up. I see he's coming 
 back ; but what do I care if he does hear. I'm 
 not ashamed of my words. I'm ashamed of 
 you." 
 
 Though Miss Rachel continued to berate her 
 angry sister, she lowered her voice as the young 
 man approached accompanied by Peter Koggle. 
 
 Barclay's colloquy with the heads of the Nog- 
 gle house had been peculiar. In answer to his 
 rap, Mandy had opened the door.
 
 120 TOM TAD 
 
 " Where's Sam ? " 
 
 " Workin' in the board-yard." 
 
 " Is your gran'daddy home ? " 
 
 He's a-helpin' Sam." 
 
 ' Is Pete about?" 
 
 "Pap's a-smokin' his pipe." 
 
 " Tell him I want him." 
 
 Mandy disappeared, like a slide in a dissolving 
 view. Mrs. Noggle came to the door and con- 
 fronted the imperious Snooks. She had been 
 drinking and her eyes glared ominously. Bar- 
 clay stepped back a pace or two and made a half 
 civil bow. 
 
 " Is Pete about the house, Mrs. Koggle ? " 
 
 "Mister Noggle is at home. Who is it that 
 wants him ? " 
 
 " Tell him there is a gentleman out here," re- 
 plied Barclay. 
 
 "Where is the gentleman?" Mrs. ISToggle 
 stepped to the door-sill and looked around. 
 "What huzzies are them yonder?" she con- 
 tinued, pointing to the pair on the river-bank. 
 
 " You ought to know them," returned Barclay, 
 leering maliciously. " They are Each and Beck 
 McStaver." 
 
 Mrs. Noggle's dignity was diminished. The 
 words, " You ought to know them," was a home 
 thrust. On rare occasions Beck presided at the 
 bar of her father's saloon. 
 
 "Yes, I know them," said Mrs. Noggle, step-
 
 BAKCLAY PLAYS THE BEAU 121 
 
 ping aside to make room for the inefficient hus- 
 band who had come down-stairs, having been 
 summoned by Mandy. " I know them, and the 
 whole town knows them." 
 
 Barclay poked the ground with his cane. 
 " Say, Pete, I want your skif t fer about an hour. 
 "What'll you charge me fer it jist to row over to 
 Kentucky and back with a couple of ladies ? " 
 
 " Well," answered Peter, scratching the back 
 of his left hand with the stem of his pipe held in 
 his right. "Well, some asks more and some 
 asks less. I reckon we shan't dispute if you're 
 reasonable and I'm reasonable, and we both 
 come to a sort of a fair understanding. Where 
 do you mean to go to ? " 
 
 "Jest over to Kentucky. Pete, I've got 
 plenty of tin. You needn't be uneasy about 
 that. Jist name yer price and let's have the 
 boat." 
 
 "Well, ya-as. Maybe, perhaps somebody or 
 nother might want the boat, or maybe not like 
 as anyway ; there's no telling. Sam mightn't like 
 it. Well, never mind. You say you'll be back 
 in an hour ; that is, we understand there is an 
 agreement to that effect ? " 
 
 "I am willin' to put it down in black and 
 white," affirmed Barclay, as the two contracting 
 parties arrived at the river-bank. " This is Mr. 
 Noggle, ladies. Mr. Peter Noggle, the owner of 
 this here boat, which he agrees to let me have
 
 122 TOM TAD 
 
 for half a dollar. That's what you offered, 
 wasn't it, Pete ? " 
 
 " Well ya-as that's about as nigh as you can 
 cipher it down, a half dollar or words to that 
 effect, as the lawyers say." Peter laughed in a 
 subdued way. 
 
 The girls got into the skiff and Barclay stepped 
 in after them and took the oars. 
 
 " We'll settle up when I come back, and I'm 
 willin' to pay a quarter fer every minute I'm out 
 over time. Pete, give her a shove, will you, for 
 these big gals is hefty." 
 
 Peter thought this speech of Barclay's almost 
 as witty as his own concerning the lawyers. 
 The boat was shoved from the beach and Bar- 
 clay rowed away, while Peter, taking a piece of 
 keel from his vest pocket, started for home, his 
 mind perplexed by an arithmetical calculation. 
 He picked up a shingle which lay in his path, and 
 upon this he scrawled a few uncouth marks, 
 murmuring to himself, "A nought's a nought, 
 and a figger is a figger. I reckon I'll get 
 the money, or may be not, there's no tell- 
 ing." 
 
 The gallant Barclay headed the boat up stream 
 and pulled vigorously keeping near the shore. 
 Then he rested his oars and allowed the craft to 
 drift, while he gave his whole attention to enter- 
 taining his amiable companions. The sisters had 
 exchanged their late sour aspect and crabbed
 
 BARCLAY PLAYS THE BEAU 123 
 
 tone for a demeanor, sweet as rose-leaves, and 
 voices gentle as the coo of a dove. 
 
 " "What a sniptious ring that is on your little 
 finger, Barclay," began Rachel, smirking af- 
 fectedly. " May I look at it ? " 
 
 "This is a fine ring," admitted the wearer, 
 frankly. " And here's a solid chain to match it. 
 I hadn't really ought to be wearin' this chain 
 around every wheres. It's a temptation to robbers." 
 
 " Bless your dear soul, Mr. Snooks, I wouldn't 
 steal your julery, do you think I would?" 
 archly questioned Rebecca, tapping Barclay's 
 shoulder with her fan. Barclay grinned and 
 toyed with his gaudy chain. Rachel gazed 
 demurely into the water and murmured iron- 
 ically, " No ; Becky don't want to steal yer ring ; 
 she wants to steal something more precious," 
 and Rachel put her hand upon her heart. 
 
 " What does she want to steal ? " asked Bar- 
 clay, ogling the elder sister and steadying the 
 boat by a dip of the left oar. "What does 
 Becky want to get away with ? " 
 
 "I don't want to steal nothing or nobody. 
 I'm not like Rach. I don't hold out no decep- 
 tions to no men, Mr. Snooks. I'm always the 
 same and jest as you see me settin' here now." 
 
 Barclay surveyed the demure creature with 
 looks of approval ; he also cast an encouraging 
 glance at Rachel ; and shifted the topic by again 
 calling attention to his chain.
 
 124 TOM TAD 
 
 " What time is it ? " inquired Rachel. 
 
 " I've jist sent my watch to the jewler's to 
 be fixed up. It takes a fortune to keep one of 
 them French watches in order." 
 
 Rebecca leaned forward with a languishing 
 air. " You spend too much on such things, Mr. 
 Snooks." 
 
 " Wot's money fer but to be laid out ? I've 
 got plenty of money." 
 
 "You will be so proud, by and by, Barclay, 
 that you won't speak to poor folk like us," said 
 Rebecca. 
 
 "'Tain't boodle, nor fine clothes that I keer 
 fer, Beck, it's good looks," said Barclay, with a 
 devouring stare into Rebecca's face. Rachel 
 withdrew her pensive gaze from the water, and 
 glanced contemptuously at her sister. 
 
 " Good looks ! " she exclaimed. " What's your 
 idea of good looks ? " 
 
 " I've seed a good many handsome women in 
 my day. I was invited to that reception or 
 wot'er you call it, up at Tadmores', and those 
 was fine women there, gals, you bet." 
 
 "Was they as pretty as us?" asked Rachel, 
 pouting winsomely. 
 
 " There's different styles of women, as there is 
 of dogs, and hosses, and guns. Some likes one 
 style best and some likes another. Most of the 
 society fellers would say Hannah Tadmore is the 
 handsomest gal. I always like to call on Hannah
 
 BAKCLAY PLAYS THE BEAU 125 
 
 Tadmore. I most generally spend my Sundays 
 up at Tadmores' smokin' with the men and 
 chattin' with the women. By jingo, I must have 
 a smoke now. You don't object to tobaccer, do 
 you, gals ? " 
 
 Kebecca said, no indeed, she didn't, and 
 Kachel simpered that there was nothing so ex- 
 tremely delightful to her as the smell of a good 
 cigar. 
 
 " You bet I don't use no other kind," ejaculated 
 Barclay, and he forthwith lit a " Cuban Beauty," 
 and, puffing voluminously, he grappled the oars 
 and pulled steadily until the boat was safely 
 brought to Kentucky soil. A half hour was 
 spent idling on the shore, where Barclay gath- 
 ered for each of his blooming partners a flaunt- 
 ing bunch of wild sunflowers. Having lavished 
 these floral tributes, Barclay struck his hand 
 upon his thigh, exclaiming, " I swan ! I done 
 clean forgot a date I had with Jedge Bogus, and 
 must go back. Business is business, you know, 
 gals, and I'd ruther drown myself than break 
 my word with the Jedge ! But if you say shake 
 him he'll have to wait. If he don't like it he kin 
 lump it ! " 
 
 " Don't neglect your business on our account, 
 Barclay. Business first and pleasure afterwards, 
 as pa always says." 
 
 " It's mighty tough on a man to give up the 
 pleasure I'm having with you two, fer any sort
 
 126 TOM TAD 
 
 of business. But if you say so we'll start 
 back." 
 
 Barclay, for reasons of his own, landed his 
 buxom passengers at a point below that at which 
 they had embarked and much nearer their own 
 home. The sisters were flattered by this ap- 
 parent considerateness. Having assisted the girls 
 out of the skiff, the prodigal youth announced 
 that he intended to astonish Peter Noggle by pay- 
 ing him double the amount promised. " I've had 
 a buncome good time, and I'm willin' to pay fer 
 it, like a prince ! " said he, thrusting his hand 
 deep into his pocket. Then, feeling successively 
 in his other pockets, he declared, with looks of 
 consternation, that he had lost his purse ; that he 
 must have come away from home without it, or else 
 have dropped it in the river by accident. " It's 
 gone ! That's sure, and I don't know how the 
 thunder I'll pay Noggle. I do hate to disappoint 
 a poor man. Never mind, I'll give him this chain. 
 It cost me only fifteen dollars wholesale, and I've 
 got a lady's chain wuth twice as much, that I 
 kin wear." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Snooks," cried both the girls in a 
 breath. "Don't pawn your chain. "We can 
 lend you the money." 
 
 Barclay demurred and shook his head. 
 
 "Here is a fix for a Snooks. Wot'll you 
 take me fer? I could crawl through a 
 gimlet hole. Dang it all! I'll have to ex-
 
 BAKCLAY PLAYS THE BEAU 127 
 
 plain to sich poor white trash as Pete Nog- 
 gle." 
 
 "No!" insisted Kachel, "PU be right mad at 
 you if you don't let me lend you the money." 
 
 So saying, she took a clasp purse from her 
 pocket, and opening it, picked out several dimes. 
 " How much will you need ? " she asked. 
 
 " Well, I meant to give the poor chap a dollar ; 
 but I only promised a half. If you kin lend me 
 a half a dollar, it will be all right, and I'll send 
 it back to you by Sineca, to-morrow or this even- 
 ing." 
 
 " Here," said Kebecca eagerly, taking the re- 
 quired sum from her purse, "let me give it to 
 you." 
 
 Each damsel eagerly held out an offering of 
 Federal money, five dimes in Kachel's fingers, a 
 half dollar in .Rebecca's. Barclay smiled be- 
 nignantly on both, and his itching palm received 
 the double tribute of shining silver. 
 
 " You women must have your way ; I can't 
 take from one and insult t'other. Good-bye, gals. 
 You're an almighty elegant couple of ladies, and 
 I'm proud of you." 
 
 " Good-bye ! " said Rachel, in her softest tone 
 and with her most winning smile. " If you want 
 to part with that lady's chain you might give it 
 to Beck." 
 
 " Or to Each ? " chimed the other sister inter- 
 rogatively.
 
 128 TOM TAD 
 
 "By gum, you'll have to cut it in two," said 
 Barclay, throwing a kiss before he stepped into 
 the skiff ; and, chuckling to himself, he pushed 
 off from the gravelly shore. 
 
 " You hypocritical minx ! " sneered Kebecca. 
 
 " You old catamount ! " retorted Kachel. 
 After which sisterly exchange of compliments 
 the lovely pair walked home to the People's 
 Saloon. 
 
 Barclay reached the Noggle coast and fastened 
 the hired boat to a ring provided for its chain. 
 He thought best not to disturb any of the family, 
 and after casting a cautious glance around, he 
 hastened along the river-bank until he had passed 
 a clump of willows which hid his retreating form 
 from view. Then he slackened his pace, and 
 drawing from his pocket a leathern purse, he 
 dropped into its depths five dimes and a half 
 dollar piece. 
 
 As he returned the purse to his pocket, Barclay 
 saw Squinty Runkle squatting on the ground 
 heaping up a pile of sand. "With cat-like stealth 
 Snooks advanced exulting to within a few feet 
 of his unsuspecting prey. " Wow ! " exclaimed 
 he, seizing the boy by the shoulders from behind. 
 " You are just the coon I'm after. My gang is 
 going in swimmin' this evenin' after sundown, 
 here above the willows, and I want you to watch 
 my clothes." 
 
 " Leave me be ! " screamed Squinty.
 
 BAKCLAY PLAYS THE BEAU 129 
 
 " I'll cut out your tongue ! You are to watch 
 my clothes ! Sineca will be here, and Mike and 
 five or six other fellers. Will you be here? 
 Hey?" 
 
 Squinty looked timorously to the right and to 
 the left, then darted away to escape his persecu- 
 tor ; but his foot slipped and down he fell. 
 
 " Is that your little game ? " said Barclay, 
 grasping the trembling child by the wrists, one 
 slim wrist in each of his strong, rough hands ; 
 and slowly he twisted his victim's arms outwards 
 and backwards. This brought Squinty to his 
 knees and caused him to writhe until his face 
 was almost to the ground. 
 
 "Will you come? Hey, will you come?" 
 snarled Barclay. 
 
 Squinty cowered and his breast shook with 
 sobs. 
 
 " Le' me loose, Barclay please, le' me go." 
 
 " Promise then, or I twist 'em off. Will you 
 come ? Promise ! " 
 
 " Yes ; I'll come. Oh, Barclay ! " 
 
 "Git up then and light out. Don't tell no- 
 body what I done to you, or I'll choke the 
 sneakin' breath out of you. Come at sundown. 
 D'ye hear ? " 
 
 Yes, Squinty heard. Barclay frowned and 
 started away. Squinty sat down on the sand 
 and cried bitterly.
 
 SQUINTY'S VENGEANCE 
 
 ON the afternoon chosen by Barclay Snooks 
 for a gay hour of dalliance with the coquettish 
 McStaver sisters, Tom Tad was moved by a 
 democratic, social impulse, to seek Sam Noggle 
 and ask him to go in swimming. Tom hurried 
 down to his humble friend's house, and found all 
 the folks at home, sitting on the porch to enjoy 
 the river breeze. 
 
 " Take a chair," sang out Sam to the welcome 
 visitor from the hilltop. There was a general 
 movement of kindly recognition, and such a hos- 
 pitable offering of chairs and benches that Tom 
 in embarrassment sat down on the edge of a 
 convenient step. 
 
 "I'd just as soon sit here," he said, with 
 natural politeness. " How are you all ? " 
 
 " Middlin'," answered Peter, speaking for the 
 family. " Middlin', none of us sick, and none of 
 us well, except Sam. Mandy is poorly, mother 
 is poorly, I am poorly-like, myself. How's your 
 folks?" 
 
 " We are all well, thank you ; how do you all 
 
 130
 
 SQUINTY'S VENGEANCE 131 
 
 do?" responded Tom, forgetting that he had 
 made that inquiry before. 
 
 " Only just middlin'. I've had a tetch of malaria. 
 Is your mother and sister in their usual health ? " 
 
 Tom began to feel afraid he would never get 
 through the tangle of how-do-you-do salutations 
 with Mr. Noggle, so he made an abrupt change 
 to another topic, by announcing that it was hot, 
 wasn't it ? 
 
 " It is," replied Peter, impressively, " it is hot 
 weather. We've had a long dry spell. I reckon 
 maybe it will rain by and by, or maybe not ; I 
 can't say ; there's no telling. "We've had a dry 
 summer, as you say." 
 
 Tom feared that the weather, as Mr. Noggle 
 discussed it, was tangling him up worse than the 
 health question. His only rescue was to cut 
 loose from Peter, and address his conversation to 
 somebody else. " The river is awful low," said 
 he, speaking this time to Grandfather Barton, 
 who was seated beside Mrs. Noggle upon an old 
 sofa upholstered with haircloth. 
 
 " Yes," replied the old man. " It's a wonder- 
 ful river, this Ohio, in August a mere creek, in 
 April a small ocean. A marvelous stream. I 
 have lived on its waters or its shores for more 
 than eighty-five year, and I have seen strange 
 things in my time." 
 
 "Sam says you've seen lots of wild Indians, 
 Mr. Barton."
 
 132 TOM TAD 
 
 " Indians ? Oh, yes. I was in the Black Hawk 
 "War with Lincoln in thirty-two. I remember 
 something about the "War of 1812, but I was too 
 young to take part in that. I saw General La- 
 fayette in twenty-six. I helped row his boat 
 across the river from Covington to Cincinnati. I 
 often saw old Tippecanoe. He lived at North 
 Bend, and used to pass up and down on the boats. 
 You remember seeing him, Nelly, don't you, in 
 thirty-nine or forty, or along there, when he was 
 running for President ? " 
 
 On hearing the old man address Mrs. Noggle 
 by the familiar name Nelly, Tom's feelings were 
 strangely stirred. 
 
 " Yes," said she, " I recollect you took me to a 
 mass-meeting in a woods, where Harrison was 
 making a speech. You held me up so that I 
 could see over the heads of the people. I must 
 have been nine or ten years old, then." 
 
 "At least that. And a handsome girl you 
 were. Sam looks something like you did then, 
 especially about the eyes, but not a hundredth 
 part so handsome." 
 
 Tom stole a glance at the haggard features of 
 Mrs. Noggle, and wondered how beauty could 
 ever have had its dwelling there. 
 
 " They tell me that Sam looks like me," she 
 said, with complacency, and made a feeble at- 
 tempt to adjust the fragment of a comb in her 
 back hair.
 
 SQUINTY'S VENGEANCE 133 
 
 " That's so," continued her father. " Sam is 
 a Barton ; but Mandy is a Noggle, out and out. 
 She is a picture of you, Peter. But let me tell 
 you, Sam, your mother was the finest girl in 
 Kentucky." 
 
 The old man paused and gazed meditatively at 
 the hills and the river and the sky. He was lost 
 in the past. " Seems like a dream when I think 
 of the changes that have taken place along this 
 river since I was a boy." 
 
 Tom saw the old man reach out a wrinkled 
 hand and gently stroke the gray hair of his 
 daughter. Wash Barton still saw in her the 
 beauty of her girlhood. " Like a dream ; like a 
 dream, my dear, poor girl! poor thing! my 
 handsome Nelly ! " 
 
 Sam broke in upon his grandfather's senti- 
 mental reverie, by the abrupt question, " Do you 
 wish you was a boy, gran'dad ? " 
 
 " Yes, I'd like to be a boy again." 
 
 " Then come with us and go in swimmin'," 
 said Tom. u I came down to ask Sam to go in 
 with me." 
 
 All laughed at Tom's free and easy manner of 
 joking, and soon afterwards the two lads were 
 on their way to a favorite bathing place near a 
 willow copse which fringed the Ohio, half a mile 
 above Forest Glen. On approaching this famil- 
 iar locality, they came upon Squinty Kunkle 
 seated exactly where Barclay Snooks had left
 
 134 TOM TAD 
 
 him, in the full blaze of the sun, upon the glar- 
 ing sand. He was nursing the wrist of his left 
 arm against his breast, pressing and rubbing the 
 joint with his right hand. His eyes were red and 
 swollen, his face was stained with dirt and tears. 
 
 " "What's the matter ? " asked Sam. 
 
 " Nothin'," sobbed Squinty. Sam bent down 
 and took hold of the hurt member. 
 
 "Ouch!" 
 
 " What ails it ? " said Tom. 
 
 " Tell us," urged Sam. " Has anybody been 
 bullyraggin' you ? We'll lick 'em for you, me 
 and Tom. Your wrist is swelled awful. Come 
 back to the house and mother will put liniment 
 on it." 
 
 "Or arnica," suggested Tom, "or camphire. 
 Who done it ? " 
 
 The boys lifted Squinty to his feet and marched 
 him off between them. Arrived at the Noggle 
 house, the trio found Dr. Eldon there on a philan- 
 thropic errand. Squinty expressed his emotion 
 in the one powerful word of his vocabulary. 
 
 While the doctor examined the strained wrist, 
 he persuaded poor Squinty to tell all about Bar- 
 clay's conduct. 
 
 As soon as the doctor had gone, Sam and Tom, 
 taking Squinty in charge, conveyed him to the 
 willow copse, and, in secret conclave, opened to 
 his excited mind the details of a dark and des- 
 perate plot in the execution of which the claims
 
 SQUINTY'S VENGEANCE 135 
 
 of justice would be satisfied and the trodden 
 worm avenged. Squinty, listening with open- 
 mouthed wonder and dread apprehension, was 
 mutely pledged to act some heroic part in a 
 glorious conspiracy. 
 
 The long summer day drew to a close, the 
 round red sun went down behind the hills, and 
 twilight brooded over the valley of the Ohio. 
 Barclay and his " gang " kept their appointment, 
 assembling near the thicket of willow bushes. 
 It happened that Charley Blogson had taken a 
 notion to go in, that night; and, by an odd co- 
 incidence, Tom Tad and Sam Noggle chanced to 
 come upon the scene. 
 
 " Hello, Barclay ! is that you ? " shouted Tom. 
 " I didn't know you at first ; took you for Judge 
 Bogus, you look so tall and serious. How-dy-do, 
 Cuff, hay Alic, ain't seen you for a coon's age. 
 Who all's goin' in ? The water's fine." 
 
 Barclay looked about him as if counting his 
 followers. 
 
 "Has anybody seed Squinty Eunkle any- 
 wheres about ? " 
 
 " He can't come ! " answered Sam. " He hurt 
 his arm. He was at our house near about dead. 
 Dr. Eldon set his wrist." 
 
 " Is that so ? " cried Tom. " How did he hurt 
 himself?" 
 
 " Dun know," said Sam, " it's hard to get any- 
 thing out of Squinty."
 
 136 TOM TAD 
 
 "Poor little feller," drawled Barclay. "I'm 
 goshdurned sorry fer him. Le's go in, boys. 
 Sineca, somebody ought to stay here and watch 
 our duds. You stand guard you and Cuff." 
 
 For once Seneca's soul rose in revolt. " No I 
 won't, durned if I do." 
 
 " Oh, you won't ? All right, bub. You and 
 me will have a little fun on our way home." 
 
 The youngsters laughed and jeered, but 
 whether at Barclay's expense or at that of his 
 brother, was doubtful. 
 
 Every one of the boys was eager to be in the 
 tempting element. Tom and Sam were among 
 the first to strip and plunge. Barclay undressed 
 with the deliberation proper to his dignity. 
 Softly whistling in an absent way, he divested 
 himself of coat, vest and pantaloons, carefully 
 folding these articles and placing them in a pile 
 under a projecting willow-branch. On the top 
 of the pile he put his new hat, and across the hat 
 he laid his varnished cane. Having completed 
 this prudent arrangement, the great man waded 
 into the tepid water and was soon plunging and 
 splashing among the smaller swimmers. 
 
 The lusty fellows luxuriate in the sport ! They 
 dive, they float, they tread water, they swim dog- 
 fashion, Indian-fashion, sailor-fashion, they duck 
 one another, they shout, they sing. The climax 
 of delight is reached when the steamer Tacoma 
 plows up stream, churning the river with her
 
 SQUINTY'S VENGEANCE 137 
 
 wheel, and the long waves from the prow roll to 
 the shore tossing and breaking over the naked 
 lads. Oblivious to everything save the joyous 
 excitement of bathing, the boys ride the billows 
 raised by the passing boat. 
 
 But the winking stars see more than the frolic 
 of boys in the river. They see the willows bend 
 and shake though no wind is blowing. What 
 night-prowling, furtive animal creeps out from 
 hiding in the thick bushes, and skips fleetly along 
 the river-bank until he reaches a low bluff at the 
 base of which the current runs swift and deep ? 
 It is Squinty Kunkle. He is possessed of a mys- 
 terious bundle to which, with cheerful alacrity, 
 he adds a good-sized boulder, tying the package 
 with a long piece of twine. These preparations 
 completed to his satisfaction, the miscreant drops 
 the bundle into the depths of the gliding current. 
 The mischievous stars and the conniving moon 
 aid and abet the felony, silently smiling their 
 approval. 
 
 Squinty's countenance wreathes and wrinkles 
 with unwonted lines of triumph, and his serious 
 mouth twists itself into a happy grin. For the 
 first time in his young life has he tasted the 
 sweet of personal retaliation. " Gosh," he whis- 
 pers, then, flitting away like a shadow, he is lost 
 in the silence of the night. 
 
 Barclay, disdaining the foolish pranks and 
 porpoise play of his juniors, thought it in keep-
 
 138 TOM TAD 
 
 ing with his lofty character, to come out of the 
 water alone and in advance of the rest. Solitary, 
 on the yellow sands, in the light of the moon, he 
 stood awhile, in naked calmness, a lanky Apollo. 
 Ere long he cast his eyes towards the spot upon 
 which his wearing apparel had been carefully 
 deposited. Not a rag of his clothing was to be 
 seen under the bush or elsewhere. Barclay was 
 panic-stricken. 
 
 " "Who's been monkeyin' with my things ? " he 
 bawled. The river urchins paused from their 
 noisy sport to harken. 
 
 " Say ! where's my clothes at ? " 
 
 Sam Noggle answered for the crowd : " How 
 should we know ? You were the last feller to 
 come in and the first to go out. Nobody seen 
 your duds. What's the matter with you ? " 
 
 The swimmers came splashing, pell-mell, to 
 the beach, every one anxious to secure his own 
 shirt and trousers. "With eager swiftness they 
 donned their few and simple garments, rejoicing 
 that they had escaped Barclay's catastrophe. 
 The chieftain's authority over them had disap- 
 peared with his vestments. Friend and foe alike 
 derided him. Cuff Chuck, his lowest hench- 
 man, rolled on the sand in a fit of convulsive 
 glee. 
 
 " "Which way, Barclay ? " quizzed Tom. " Are 
 you going to Judge Bogus's lawn party ? " 
 
 " Say, Snooks," hallooed Sam. " Better go
 
 KKIKNI) AM) KOK AI.IKK DKKIDKI) HIM.
 
 SQUINTY'S VENGEANCE 139 
 
 home by way of McStaver's and borry Mike's 
 apron ! " 
 
 "Here's your cane, Barclay, that's dressy," 
 shouted Blogson. 
 
 A chorus of jeering cries applauded these 
 taunts ; and, as the boys scampered away, Sam 
 sang out the refrain of a familiar song : 
 
 " Good-bye my lover, good-bye ! " 
 
 This line suggested to Tom the words of an- 
 other love-lay and that precocious lad made the 
 night air vocal with : 
 
 " Roll on, silver moon, 
 Guide the trav'ler on his way ! " 
 
 How under the guidance of the silver moon, 
 Barclay made shift to reach the paternal roof 
 that night, is to this day shrouded in mystery. 
 But certain it is the crestfallen hero lived in re- 
 tirement for a full fortnight, after which he 
 returned to the scenes of his former glory, a 
 sadder, if not a wiser man.
 
 XX 
 
 A MODEL SCHOOL EXAMINATION 
 
 THE summer months glided away and with 
 them the unchartered freedom which vacation 
 brings to the schoolboy. Once more books 
 claimed five days a week and six hours every 
 day. The routine of study and recitation within 
 brick walls had to be followed instead of the de- 
 lightful curriculum of do-as-you-please, out of 
 doors, under the illimitable sky. Tom went 
 regularly to the Forest Glen Union School, and 
 with his classmates, was allotted his daily ration 
 of text-book, and ground through the flint-mill 
 of monthly examination. 
 
 Tom's inquisitive turn, and habit of employing 
 common sense in his mental operations, caused 
 him much misgiving. He pondered over the 
 blind mystery of the monthly ordeal, with in- 
 congruous feelings of amusement and dread. 
 The more he thought about the matter the more 
 he was perplexed. He would go from room to 
 room, in the great school building, and stare at 
 the inscriptions upon the blackboards, the long 
 lists of conundrums to be answered on paper as 
 a condition of being promoted. His quizzical in- 
 
 140
 
 MODEL SCHOOL EXAMINATION 141 
 
 terest in these wonderful lists increased as he 
 inspected the blackboards in the rooms of the 
 advanced grades. 
 
 " Charley," he said to his chum Blogson, " I 
 don't see any sense in the questions, do you ? " 
 
 "I don't know," was the grave answer. "I 
 never thought of it." 
 
 " Where do you s'pose Mr. Gadmeter finds all 
 these queer things to ask ? I don't see how he 
 can make them all up ; that would be enough to 
 kill him or make him go crazy ! " 
 
 " I dun know, Tom," said Charley, in a blank and 
 weary tone, which seemed to beg that no more 
 should be asked on the dreadful subject. 
 
 "I know," put in Joseph Bogus. "He has 
 books of questions with the answers. I saw, 
 over at his house, a whole shelf full of such 
 books." 
 
 " Did you borrow any ? " asked Tom. 
 
 " I don't need to," answered the evasive Jo- 
 seph. "I don't borrow and I don't lend. I 
 don't ask help nor give help. Every fellow for 
 himself, is my rule." 
 
 "That isn't Tom's rule," retorted Blogson. 
 " He helps me every day. He helped you too, 
 Jo, when you fell through the hole in the ice last 
 winter." 
 
 " That's much different," snapped Joseph ; and 
 he walked away with an injured look. 
 
 The weeks and months passed on, subjecting
 
 142 TOM TAD 
 
 the boys to the ordinary humdrum duties of the 
 school. Near the end of the December exami- 
 nations, and just before the holiday vacation, 
 Tom conceived the whimsical notion of holding 
 an examinatoin for the entertainment of his fa- 
 miliar mates. One day, after Mr. Gadmeter had 
 left the schoolhouse, the boys gathered in that 
 functionary's room, and Tom, having locked the 
 door on the inside, and put the key into his 
 pocket, stepped pompously upon the dais, mim- 
 icking the manner and voice of the Principal. 
 
 " Boys, let there be perfect order in the room." 
 Here Tom struck the little gong on the table be- 
 fore him violently five or six times, and rolled 
 his eyes severely from side to side, at the same 
 time plucking at his chin as if twisting an imagi- 
 nary beard. " Young gentlemen, I shall expect 
 absolute silence and decorum. You are all 
 gentlemen and the sons of gentlemen, remember 
 that. Charles Blogson, you impudent monkey, 
 sit down, or I'll tan your hide. 
 
 " We are here to be examined in animals. I 
 rejoice that we live in a free country where every 
 American boy is compelled to cram up and pass 
 his grade. Now I want every two-legged biped 
 in this room to take his seat by himself as far 
 apart as you can get. I want to prove to you by 
 your own black ink that you don't know nothing 
 whatever, nor animals either, though you have 
 had all the disadvantages of education, for you
 
 MODEL SCHOOL EXAMINATION 143 
 
 go to school and attend my lectures to boot. 
 You will be stuck on the very first question. I 
 want to encourage you at the start by candidly 
 telling you that you can't squirm through this 
 examination any more than a rhinoceros can 
 crawl through a pipe stem. If any of you hap- 
 pen to answer any of my questions right, I'll be 
 bound that you cheated, for it isn't in you to an- 
 swer them right. But if you feel sure, before- 
 hand, that you can't answer, and ask me to let 
 you off, then I'll know you are trying to sneak 
 out of your duty. 
 
 " Well, now we are about ready to begin the 
 slaughter. Scatter apart, stop whispering, shut 
 your eyes, hold your nose, and put cotton in your 
 ears, for I want to trust to your honesty, and un- 
 less I tie it up well it can't be trusted. Of course 
 there are boys that I can trust." 
 
 Here Tom cast a glance of exaggerated admi- 
 ration at Joseph Bogus, whereat the other boys 
 raised a yell of derision. 
 
 " Young gentlemen, I am pained at you. Re- 
 member that you are all gentlemen and the sons 
 of gentlemen. Samuel Noggle, your conduct is 
 that of a savage. Remove your hat from your 
 feet this instant, or I shall expel you by force ! 
 "William Henry Bowling, take off your cuffs, sir, 
 and bring them to this table. I can see that you 
 have copied the answers in advance. Ready, all ! 
 Sharpen your pencils and prepare to proceed. I
 
 144 TOM TAD 
 
 shall put the questions upon the blackboard, and 
 you shall have full time to answer them. Be de- 
 liberate and rapid. I shall expect brief and ex- 
 tended answers. Of course I shall take off for 
 spelling and punctuality. One thing more : Do 
 not bother me by asking what the questions 
 mean. That is your lookout, not mine. Your 
 respected teacher is not now being examined. 
 Again, let me warn you, no cheating. You know 
 I have eyes in the back of my head. I shall 
 compel you to be honest. And I will remark, just 
 here, that I have already made out your per cents, 
 ahead, and if you don't come up to them, the 
 whole school will know what hypocrites you 
 are." 
 
 Having delivered this preliminary address, 
 Tom took a paper from his coat-tail pocket and 
 solemnly read aloud the following : 
 
 QUESTIONS ON ANIMALS. 
 
 1. Classify the animal, vegetable, and min- 
 eral kingdoms. 
 
 2. Compare mind and matter. 
 
 3. What's the mind, and what's the mat- 
 ter? 
 
 4. Describe the universe. Give illustrations. 
 
 5. What does the microscope reveal ? Why ? 
 
 6. Mention the various functions. 
 
 7. Frame ten hard questions on bugs
 
 MODEL SCHOOL EXAMINATION 145 
 
 and tortoises, and answer them on a separate 
 sheet. 
 
 7. Which and for what reason ? 
 
 9. Discuss corpuscles and germs and give 
 specifications. 
 
 10. Explain monkeys. 
 
 11. What do our best physicians do to cure a 
 trilobite ? 
 
 12. Is a Peruvian dog's bark good for the 
 ague ? 
 
 13. Is a ground-hog swine ? 
 
 14. Where does a flamingo ? 
 
 15. For what does a porcupine ? 
 
 16. Can a zebra louder than a donkey ? 
 
 17. What does Huxley say ? 
 
 18. Give the biological modus operandi of ex- 
 tinct protoplasm. 
 
 19. Define all the scientific terms in the dic- 
 tionary. Give their meaning. 
 
 20. Copy your answers, and parse all the 
 words in full. 
 
 These questions being correct as to orthog- 
 raphy, and having a decidedly sarcastic method 
 in their madness, it is reasonable to infer that 
 Uncle Felix had something to do with their in- 
 vention. Tom, with his usual want of fore- 
 thought, wrote the test sentences upon the black- 
 board, where Miss Belmont read them the next 
 day, to her infinite amusement. But she rubbed 
 them off before Mr. Gadmeter appeared, and
 
 146 TOM TAD 
 
 thus, perhaps saved the self-constituted examiner 
 a second castigation. "However," she medi- 
 tated, "it is doubtful whether or not the Princi- 
 pal would have discovered anything out of the 
 way in the questions."
 
 XXI 
 
 THE EAIN DESCENDED AND THE FLOODS GAME 
 
 AN unprecedented fall of snow had covered 
 the vast basin of the great stream which flows 
 from the Alleghanies to the Mississippi. The 
 massed flakes driven and heaped upon mountains 
 in Pennsylvania and Virginia, and capping a thou- 
 sand hills in Ohio and Kentucky, were dissolved 
 by long-continued, violent rains. An enormous 
 quantity of water, hurrying down the frozen 
 surfaces, rushed, by innumerable torrents, and 
 by swollen rivers, to the one gorged outlet, the 
 Ohio. The bottom lands were deeply inundated ; 
 fences, barns, houses, were swept away; thou- 
 sands of cattle perished ; and many human lives 
 were lost in the general devastation. 
 
 The tenement occupied by Peter Noggle and 
 his family, like hundreds of other buildings, was 
 surrounded by the rising flood, and looked forlorn 
 and desolate standing in a waste of muddy water. 
 The only means of communication with the vil- 
 lage was by boat, and the " men-folks," as Mrs. 
 Noggle called them, had been on a voyage to the 
 grocery for a stock of provisions. There was no 
 reason why Peter should have gone, except to 
 
 147
 
 148 TOM TAD 
 
 enjoy the ride, and no motive for old "Wash 
 Barton's going, save the impulse of adventurous 
 spirit which age had not subdued ; but Sam, as 
 the acknowledged head and manager of the house, 
 was bound to go and come, plan and protect ; to 
 anticipate, and provide for, all emergencies. 
 
 The three, seated in a skiff rowed by Sam, fell 
 into animated conversation as they approached 
 their inconvenient dwelling-place. 
 
 " It stands to reason, Peter," said old "Wash 
 Barton, " that we sha'n't see another flood such 
 as we had last February. Two such floods don't 
 come near together. I'm an old man, and I've 
 seen many an overflow of this river, but that of 
 last year was the boss flood. It beat them all. 
 I recollect the famous 'pumpkin' flood, when 
 the pumpkins were all washed away from the 
 farmers' fields along the lower bottoms, and car- 
 ried off looking like the heads of drowning men. 
 I remember what an excitement there was about 
 the destruction of property. It was bad enough, 
 but nothing to compare with the ruination caused 
 last year." 
 
 " Seems to me it's bad enough now," said Sam. 
 
 " Yes, so it is ; but I prophesy the river will 
 fall before many hours." 
 
 " She is rising fast," said Sam. " She is rising 
 an inch every hour; and only lacks a foot of 
 coming up to the mark of last year. Here is last 
 year's high water mark." Sam brought the skiff
 
 THE RAIN DESCENDED 149 
 
 alongside a window, and placed the end of his 
 dripping oar on the level line. " You see it don't 
 lack much of being as high already." 
 
 " I ca'culate the boy is about right, Washing- 
 ton," drawled Peter ; " or, maybe not. You're 
 an older man than either of us. There's no 
 telling." 
 
 "But there is telling," bluntly responded the 
 octogenarian. " The river will go down to-night ; 
 take my word for it, and rest easy." 
 
 The energetic old man and the flaccid Peter 
 clambered in at the open window, and, treading 
 a plank which crossed the dark waters that half 
 filled the basement rooms, reached the stairway, 
 which they ascended to the upper apartments. 
 Sam made fast the boat and followed, bringing 
 along the basket containing eatables. The rooms 
 to which the pursuing element had driven the 
 Noggle family, with all their goods and chattels, 
 were small and inconvenient. Mandy was fright- 
 ened and peevish ; Mrs. Noggle, sullen, like the 
 unreasonable and frowning tide which eddied 
 around the shaken walls imprisoning her. De- 
 prived of access to the saloon, and tormented by 
 a habitual craving for strong drink, she had 
 grown restive. She sat on the edge of a rumpled 
 bed, and gazed out upon the broad river, down 
 whose swift current masses of ice and black fleets 
 of driftwood were hurrying. It was late in the 
 day, and Sam busied himself setting a rude table,
 
 150 TOM TAD 
 
 talking as cheerfully as he could under the dismal 
 circumstances. 
 
 " This is worse than living in a family-boat, 
 isn't it, gran'daddy ? "We have less room and no 
 chance of moving." 
 
 " I like the boat better than any house," re- 
 plied the old man. " Life on a boat is free and 
 independent. You're always on the top of the 
 water, however high it rises ; and, if you don't 
 want to stay in one spot, you can float oil to an- 
 other. "Water is safer than land. Nelly, hadn't 
 you better lie down ? You look pale." 
 
 These last words betrayed an uneasiness that 
 usually haunted Mr. Barton, when Mrs. Noggle 
 in her morbid moods, fixed her contemplation 
 too much on the river. The old man went to his 
 daughter and sat down beside her interposing his 
 body between her and the window. She rose 
 with a peculiar dignity which came to her at un- 
 certain times, met her father's troubled glance 
 with a smile, and relieved Sam of his cares and 
 tasks, saying, " You need rest, Sam, I will get 
 the supper." 
 
 " I'm not tired a bit, mother ; I will help you. 
 Here, Mandy, I bought you some gingerbread. 
 And, oh yes, gran'daddy, I had almost forgot. 
 Dr. Eldon sent you this newspaper, for he knows 
 you like to read, and he thought you couldn't get 
 to town now." 
 
 " Why not ? I'm hale as hickory. Does he
 
 THE KAIN DESCENDED 151 
 
 think "Wash Barton unable to manage a boat ? 
 Not much. Nothing would suit me better than 
 to navigate an old-fashioned broad-horn down 
 the Mississippi." 
 
 "I wouldn't resk it," remarked Peter, munch- 
 ing a mouthful of Mandy's gingerbread. " You 
 mought. Seems like I'm pow'ful weak. Tetch 
 of consumption." He took another mouthful, 
 and subsided. 
 
 Wash Barton, who could read fine print with- 
 out spectacles, perused the Gazette. He turned 
 to the " Kiver News," and the " Weather Ke- 
 port," and learned that the prospect was for 
 higher water. 
 
 " * Kising and raining ' nonsense ! It can't be 1 
 These newspaper men think they know more 
 about the Ohio Kiver than I do, who have spent 
 over eighty years studying it. It will go down 
 before morning." 
 
 They sat down around the table, Barton keep- 
 ing the newspaper in his hand and glancing over 
 it, while Peter, Sam and Mandy ate. Presently 
 Mrs. Noggle left her place and passed into a 
 small bedroom adjoining the cramped chamber 
 in which the family huddled. Her father stepped 
 to the partition door, and saw that she had cast 
 herself upon a bed. 
 
 "That's right, I'll shut the door and do you 
 try and sleep." He closed the door, and, return- 
 ing to his chair, resumed his newspaper.
 
 152 TOM TAD 
 
 "What's the news?" asked Sam. "I'll bet 
 they haven't gathered any news from this town." 
 
 "Well, now, don't be too certain of that. 
 Here's California, and Miamiville, and Kipley, 
 and Ridgeville, and Minktown, and Lawrence- 
 burg " 
 
 "Is Christiansburg there, where Barclay 
 Snooks used to live ? " 
 
 " No, but here, as sure as you're born, Sam, is 
 Forest Glen." 
 
 " Is it, for a fact ? Le' me see, gran'daddy." 
 And the boy rather unceremoniously took pos- 
 session of the Gazette and began to read : 
 
 " Forest Glen Society Happenings, etc. Mrs. 
 Judge Bogus gave a delightful little party at her 
 elegant residence on Catalpa Avenue on the 
 evening of Thursday last. Among the guests 
 were Dr. and Mrs. Blurnas, and their charming 
 daughter, and Mr. Claude Rockingham. 
 
 " Mr. Ichabod Waddle of the firm of Blinks 
 and Waddle has just returned from a trip to the 
 Queen City where he was called to the sick bed 
 of his wife's uncle, Timothy Jarvis. Mr. Waddle 
 took occasion to lay in a stock of fine dry goods 
 of the latest style. 
 
 " It is currently reported that Barclay Snooks, 
 Esq., a young gentleman of wealth and refine- 
 ment, is to be married to Miss Eachel Rebecca 
 McStaver, daughter of one of our leading politi- 
 cians."
 
 THE RAIN DESCENDED 153 
 
 " You don't say ! " droned Peter. " There is 
 fifty cents a-coming to me fer the boat. I do 
 wonder. Did you understand from what you 
 gather that he was engaged to marry them ? " 
 
 "It says he is to be married to Miss Kachel 
 Rebecca McStaver, but there isn't no such per- 
 son. There is Rach and Beck both, but they 
 ain't the same girl." 
 
 " Does the paper say so ? " Peter returned, 
 confusedly. " It reminds me of a circumstance, 
 "Washington. There was a party lived up here 
 I can't jist remember his name, everybody 
 knowed him though, and he had a daughter too. 
 Bimeby a young feller comes along, and speaks 
 up and says to this man, what the mischief was 
 his name ? I'll ketch it, bimeby ; I forgit the 
 words he made use of, but anyway, it didn't turn 
 out to suit him, and he says to this young woman, 
 he says, ' You can't eat yer cake and not eat it,' 
 says he. I've thought over that fer days and 
 days, and it is so. What you was reading re- 
 minds me of it." Peter grinned a broad appre- 
 ciation of his " circumstance," and filled his to- 
 bacco pipe. 
 
 Darkness had stolen upon the group while they 
 were eating and talking, and Mandy had fallen 
 asleep in her chair. Sam lifted his sister and 
 placed her upon the mattress in one corner of 
 the room, then lighted a lamp and stepping to 
 the door of his mother's room he softly opened
 
 154 TOM TAD 
 
 it and peered in. The lamplight shone upon an 
 empty bed. Sam entered the room and searched 
 it round for his mother ; she was not to be 
 be found. To avoid alarming his father or grand- 
 father, he softly closed the partition door ; then 
 went to the window, and, holding the light so that 
 it enabled him to see objects on the outside, 
 looked for the boat, but saw only the water lap- 
 ping against the side of the house. His eye soon 
 caught sight of a rope which dangled from the 
 window, and which was trailing and writhing in 
 the agitated current, like a water-snake. He 
 shuddered at the apprehension that his mother 
 might have drowned herself, but on reflection he 
 took comfort in the likelihood that she had de- 
 scended by means of the rope to the skiff, and 
 had rowed ashore. " She has gone to town for 
 whiskey," was his bitter conjecture. "I will 
 swim over and bring her back." 
 
 Sam prepared to execute his desperate resolve. 
 He came out from his mother's room and closed 
 the door behind him. "Keep still, and don't 
 wake mother, I'll be back in half an hour. I'm 
 going ashore. Gran'daddy, read daddy to sleep, 
 and then go to bed yourself." 
 
 Leaving these prompt commands, the boy went 
 half-way down the stairs, walked the plank to the 
 open window, and was about to plunge into the 
 ice-cold river, when a skiff struck the projecting 
 end of the light gangway on which he stood.
 
 THE KAIN DESCENDED 155 
 
 "Mother!" 
 
 "Sam! don't kill me !" 
 
 " Be still, mother ! They don't know. Give 
 me the end of the boat-chain. Now, step up, 
 and go sit upon the stairs until I come." 
 
 The woman obeyed. Sam reached from the 
 window to find the staple which he had driven 
 into the wall to fasten the boat by. It was 
 several inches under water. Helen Noggle sat 
 shivering upon the stair. Just below her the 
 water, in the main room of the house, as in a 
 black cistern, was creeping up inchmeal, second 
 by second. She moved to the edge of the steps 
 and leaned over the invisible danger. Sam came 
 to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and 
 whispered in her ear : 
 
 " Stay where you are ; I will come back for 
 you." Soon he went up as stealthily as a thief 
 in the night. The lamp was burning dim. Peter 
 Noggle sat dozing in his chair; "Wash Barton 
 had lain down upon the bed, and his eyes were 
 shut. " Are you awake ? " said Sam, in a low 
 voice. The only answer was an irresolute snore 
 from Peter. Sam softly opened the door to his 
 mother's chamber. Then, with noiseless paces, 
 he made his way back to the object of his pain- 
 ful care. " Now come," he said, and led her up- 
 stairs and through the occupied room. She 
 stared in a bewildered way, at her husband 
 snoring in his chair, at her father slumbering
 
 156 TOM TAD 
 
 quietly on the bed ; then she started forward as if 
 walking in her sleep, her staggering motions 
 guided by Sam, who hurried her into her own 
 apartment. There, into the utter darkness, like 
 some haggard phantom of the night, some weird 
 water-witch or Banchee, she vanished. Sam 
 heard a drowsy voice say, " Mammy," and, look- 
 ing, he saw Mandy half sitting up in her cot. 
 " I thought I saw mammy," she said, and yawn- 
 ing sank back upon her straw pillow. The boy 
 put out the light and followed his mother into 
 her room, but not a word was exchanged. She 
 flung herself upon the bed, and was soon in a 
 drunken sleep. Sam did not lie down. He 
 stationed himself by the window, on a low 
 wooden stool. The rain began to fall, the wintry 
 winds beat the drops against the panes, and 
 caused the house to shake and shudder as if in an 
 ague fit. Sam wrapped about his shoulders an 
 old shawl which he found hanging on a nail near 
 by, and settled himself on his stool for a night's 
 rest. Miserable as his situation was, he em- 
 ployed his will to banish thoughts of present ill 
 and fears of future trouble.
 
 XXII 
 
 ADRIFT 
 
 DREARY was the scene upon which the in- 
 mates of the Noggle house looked forth on the 
 morning after the escapade of Sam's mother. 
 The river had risen steadily through the night, 
 and the rain was still descending as if the win- 
 dows of heaven had been opened to deluge the 
 earth once more. Over the angry Ohio hung a 
 fog through which could be seen, drifting in fleet 
 procession, innumerable objects which, indis- 
 tinctly outlined in the rain and mist, had a weird 
 and portentous aspect. Forest trees stretching 
 out great gnarled limbs, floated wildly along, 
 like huge giants with many crooked arms, strug- 
 gling in the flood. Heaps of blackened wood, 
 stacks of hay, sections of bridges, fragments of 
 machinery, and buildings of various kinds, were 
 hurried onward, chasing one another down 
 stream, as if with some mad purpose. Sam, 
 watching with excited interest each curious 
 shape as it hove in view and was carried swiftly 
 across the scope of his vision, beheld a solitary 
 rooster standing in desperate calmness, on the 
 top of a fast-voyaging pile of barnyard straw. 
 
 157
 
 158 TOM TAD 
 
 And not long after chanticleer and his straw-pile 
 had vanished from sight in the gloomy distance, 
 a more affecting spectacle brought moisture to 
 the boy's kind eyes. A dog-kennel drifted past, 
 half sunken, and, clinging upon its roof, a dog, 
 with a chain about his neck, howled so loud that 
 the piteous sound was plainly heard above the 
 rush of the waters. 
 
 "Wash Barton, when he surveyed the surging 
 expanse, ventured no new words of prophecy. 
 Perhaps he wished he had not been so positive 
 the day before. However, he felt no dismay. 
 He rather gloried in the magnificent sweep and 
 overwhelming grandeur of his beloved Ohio 
 Kiver. 
 
 " There's a picture for you, Sam ! I'm glad I 
 am alive to see this flood. Look ! Nelly ! Why, 
 it's a regular ocean ! I just tell you, the Beauti- 
 ful Eiver beats them all! Isn't she grand! I 
 wish I were out there on a stout boat ! " 
 
 " Do you think we are safe here," asked Sam, 
 who was very solicitous concerning his mother 
 and sister. 
 
 "Safe! Perfectly safe! There's very little 
 
 current here. Besides " He was going to 
 
 say the river would soon fall, but he recollected 
 his previous wrong guesses, and checked him- 
 self. 
 
 " We must change our wharf to an upper win- 
 dow," said Sam. " The water is clean to the top
 
 ADRIFT 159 
 
 of the one we came in at yesterday. Daddy, 
 hadn't you and Mandy better go ashore and stay 
 a few days at the schoolhouse till the water goes 
 down ? There was a good many folks staying 
 there yesterday, from that row of little houses 
 close by Glen Creek. They were afraid they 
 would be drowned out, and the people up in town 
 let them sleep in the schoolhouse and eat there. 
 It's a right nice place." 
 
 " Something or other'll have to be done, some- 
 how or other," was the answer. " I don't reckon 
 it would be a bad notion. I'm feeling poorly, 
 this weather, off and on, and not a bit well. Dis. 
 tress in my back." 
 
 Peter offering no resistance, he and Mandy 
 were expeditiously shipped to the village, and 
 quarters were secured for them, with other refu- 
 gees, in the schoolhouse. Sam made many trips 
 to and fro between the house and the shore, and 
 took delight in treating his boy acquaintances to 
 an excursion among the partly submerged houses. 
 
 After supper, Thomas Tadmore, by permission 
 of his father, came down to Forest Glen to see 
 the raging river. There was to be a concert at 
 one of the churches in the evening, to raise 
 money for the benefit of flood sufferers, and Tom 
 was expected to attend it, with the understand- 
 ing that Fritz Haberkorn should drive down at 
 about ten o'clock and bring him home. Tom's 
 interest in the concert was altogether subordinate
 
 160 TOM TAD 
 
 to his desire to have a boat ride with Sam 
 Noggle. He was not long in learning Sam's 
 whereabouts, nor did he hesitate to get aboard 
 his friend's light craft, when invited to do so. 
 The two merry comrades made sundry trips, 
 fetching and carrying necessary articles required 
 by Peter and Mandy, on the continent, or by the 
 sea-surrounded occupants of the Noggle mansion. 
 Neither "Wash Barton nor Mrs. Noggle would 
 forsake the house and come ashore, though some 
 judged them foolhardy to trust themselves for 
 another night to the mercy of the gnawing and 
 swallowing river. In fact, the Barton blood was 
 of stubborn, not to say obstinate, quality, which 
 age had aggravated in old Wash, and abuse ren- 
 dered incorrigible in his daughter. The latter 
 had obtained at the " People's Saloon " a supply 
 of liquor, which, in several small flasks, she had 
 cunningly concealed about her person before re- 
 turning from her furtive expedition. 
 
 Apparently indifferent to danger, or uncon- 
 scious of its existence, she remained in her room 
 during the greater part of the day, half stupefied 
 by alcohol. 
 
 As for tough old "Wash, he spent the hours in 
 a state of rapture arising from his adoration of 
 the Ohio Kiver which, the more terrific it seemed 
 to others, appeared the more magnificent to him. 
 Oblivious to peril, he stood by the window over- 
 looking the swollen and surging stream, which
 
 ADEIFT 161 
 
 was busily digging away the foundation of the 
 house that sheltered him, and incessantly push- 
 ing and lifting the strained and unstable struc- 
 ture, with buoyant force. Night was fast coming 
 on, and the Kentucky hills were no longer visible 
 through the rainy atmosphere. But Wash 
 Barton lingered by the window, straining his 
 gaze across the seething water. Suddenly he 
 felt a shock, and heard a sound as of some 
 heavy object striking against the house. A 
 small frame stable had floated from its site not a 
 hundred yards away, and had slowly drifted 
 down and lodged against the toggle house. A 
 few minutes elapsed and a skiff propelled by 
 Sam, with Tom Tadmore as assistant, came dart- 
 ing from the Ohio shore, and made straight for 
 its port, the upper window of the imperiled ten- 
 ement. Sam climbed in at the casement and 
 Tom followed him. 
 
 " Gran'daddy, you must get out of this, right 
 away, you and mother ! "We will all go ashore 
 in the skift. The people say you are crazy to 
 stay here, for the house is sure to drift away be- 
 fore morning. The river is still rising, and the 
 paper says there is a foot or two more coming 
 from Pittsburg. Two houses have been washed 
 away from Glen Creek bottom already, and 
 Jones's stable is lodged against the end of our 
 house now. Be quick ! " 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! you are scared, Sam. I thought
 
 162 TOM TAD 
 
 you was more of a Barton than to be afraid of a 
 freshet. There's not a bit of danger. I've nav- 
 igated this blessed old river " 
 
 " Sam ! Sam ! " screamed Tom, " look at the 
 chimney ! look at the chimney ! It's going 
 down ! " 
 
 The chimney was indeed sinking gradually 
 through the floor ! Its foundation had been un- 
 dermined, and the heavy column settled into the 
 watery chasm. A rattling of bricks falling on 
 the roof, roused Helen Noggle from her drunken 
 slumber. She staggered from her bed and tot- 
 tered to her father. 
 
 " Where are we ? Where's Sam's baby ? " 
 
 " Don't be alarmed," were the composed words 
 of old Wash Barton. "Be a brave girl, and 
 have your wits about you, or we shall all be 
 drowned. Sam, you are right. We must take 
 to the boat." 
 
 "Drowned?" repeated the woman in a tone 
 of horror. " Drowned ! Drowned ! Drowned I 
 why do you throw it up to me ? " 
 
 " Nelly, wake ! you are in a nightmare ! You 
 are dreaming ! Eouse up ! I tell you we must 
 take the boat ! Sam, bring the skiff under the 
 window. What ails you ? You stand there like 
 a frozen man." 
 
 " The boat is gone ! " 
 
 "Gone!" echoed Tom. "How will I get 
 back? What will mother say ?"
 
 ADRIFT 163 
 
 " Keep your heads level, boys. I've been in a 
 worse predicament than this. The Ohio Kiver 
 is a good old friend of mine. But I am sorry 
 you let the skiff get away." 
 
 " I thought I fastened the chain ; but I must 
 have been careless. Mother, light the lamp ! " 
 
 This last sentence was uttered in the impera- 
 tive but quiet voice which Mrs. Noggle had 
 learned to heed as if it were the voice of fate. 
 She came to her senses at once, and, finding a 
 match, struck it on the plastered wall. The 
 match kindled with an explosive snapping, and 
 as it did so, emitting a faint blue light, "Wash 
 Barton became aware of a sensation that for the 
 instant appalled even him. The house was afloat, 
 with a motion which was almost imperceptible 
 at first, but which became swift and swifter. 
 Careening now to this side and now to that, the 
 doomed dwelling was driven and whirled into 
 the boiling current of the main channel of the 
 Ohio, while storm and darkness combined to 
 baffle rescue and to hide the work of destruction.
 
 XXIII 
 
 TO THE EESCUE 
 
 THE musical entertainment given in the Con- 
 gregational Church for the benefit of the flood 
 sufferers was protracted to a late hour. Dr. El- 
 don, occupying a seat near the middle aisle, 
 turned around more than once during the per- 
 formance to cast anxious glances in search of 
 Tom who was supposed to be somewhere in the 
 audience. Promptly at ten o'clock Fritz Haber- 
 korn drove up to the sidewalk, in front of the 
 church, for Tom and the doctor. A reckless 
 driver, the hired man did not notice that the 
 wheels of the carriage came within an ace of 
 running over a slim boy who, bareheaded, hurried 
 across the street and flew into the meeting-house. 
 The singers had just finished a chorus, the last 
 number of the program, when Squinty Eunkle 
 scurried up the main aisle of the sanctuary, 
 startling the small congregation. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " said Dr. Eldon, rising 
 and putting a hand on Squinty's narrow shoulders. 
 
 "Sam's done gone and Tom!" wailed the 
 bringer of bad tidings, and he gave vent to sobs 
 and tears. 
 164
 
 TO THE KESCUE 165 
 
 " "What does he say ? " asked the pastor of the 
 church, waving his hand to check the general 
 commotion in the audience. 
 
 Squinty stammered over a broken story, that 
 Sam toggle and Tom Tad had paddled in a 
 skiff to the Noggle house and that the house had 
 been swept away by the current of the swollen 
 river. The alarming testimony was quickly 
 corroborated by other voices. The building had 
 certainly disappeared, nor could there be a 
 doubt that the boys, together with Grandfather 
 Barton and his daughter, were in the ill-fated 
 building. 
 
 Uncle Felix hurried from the church, sprang 
 into the ready carriage, beside Fritz, and said 
 imperatively, 
 
 " Drive to the schoolhouse." 
 
 "VereissdotTom?" 
 
 " Never mind, whip up ! Drive to the school- 
 house." 
 
 Fritz lashed the horses ; they lunged forward 
 and the vehicle rattled over the flinty stones 
 which struck sparks from iron shoes. Arrived 
 at the schoolhouse, Felix rushed in and found the 
 cot assigned to Peter Noggle. That inert ref- 
 ugee was sound asleep. Felix shook and 
 punched him to languorous consciousness. 
 
 " Get up ! Your house is afloat washed away 
 by the flood ! Your wife and son and father are 
 in it."
 
 166 TOM TAD 
 
 Peter yawned, rubbed his eyes and spoke 
 querulously. 
 
 " Something or other'll have to be done some- 
 how or other. I reckon you'd better wake 
 Mandy ; or maybe not. Do what you kin as f er 
 as you see yer way." 
 
 "Devil take such a man!" exclaimed Eldon, 
 making a hasty exit from the schoolhouse, eager 
 to join Fritz in the carriage. 
 
 " Fritz, there is bad news terrible news ! Pete 
 ^Toggle's house has been carried off by the high 
 water, and Tom is in the house ! " 
 
 The old soldier gasped. 
 
 " Ach ! JSTein ! Dot poy ! " 
 
 " Yes, Fritz, our Tom Tom's gone ! " 
 
 " Mein Gott ! Dot leetle Tom ? Ich will den 
 knabe right away zu hause bringen ! " 
 
 So saying, Fritz Haberkorn threw the lines 
 on the dashboard, leaped from the carriage, and 
 rushed away toward the baleful river. Was it 
 madness, was it blind divination, that drove or 
 led him, to a rude jo-boat into which he stum- 
 bled ? Two tolerably serviceable oars were lying 
 within the rough craft, and these Fritz grasped 
 firmly in his knotty fists. Actuated not by rea- 
 son nor by duty, but impelled by the force of 
 love, the great-hearted German shoved the clumsy 
 scow from shore and pulled out into midcurrent 
 of the tumultuous flood. 
 
 Meanwhile Uncle Felix, bearing in mind the
 
 TO THE KESCUE 167 
 
 strange parting words of Fritz, made haste to the 
 telegraph office where he instructed the operator 
 to despatch the fact that a house with four per- 
 sons in it had been swept away from Forest 
 Glen. 
 
 " Keep the wires hot with the message. Send 
 it to all points down the river. Solicit every 
 possible exertion toward rescue. Offer, in my 
 name, a thousand dollars reward for whoever 
 shall save the lives of the four persons." 
 
 Becoming more excited as he more vividly 
 realized what had happened, Dr. Eldon drove up 
 the hill, at a terriffic rate, to disclose the dire 
 news to his sister and his brother-in-law. His 
 body throbbed like a fevered pulse. Surging 
 emotions bore him along, even as the swirling 
 waters of the Ohio were hurrying Fritz Haber- 
 korn through stormy darkness. 
 
 Mr. Tadmore and his wife sat in the library 
 killing time over the current magazines, when 
 their agitated kinsman abruptly broke in upon 
 their silence. His nervous manner and haggard 
 face startled his sister. 
 
 " Didn't Tommy ride up with you ? " 
 
 " No, I drove up alone." 
 
 " Why ! Where are Tom and Fritz ? " 
 
 "Fritz is all right. He is looking for Tom. 
 The boy ventured ; he will soon " 
 
 " What has happened ? " 
 
 " Be calm, Eliza. There is no occasion for
 
 168 TOM TAD 
 
 for despair," stammered Felix. But the falter- 
 ing tongue belied the words. 
 
 " What's wrong with Tom ? " 
 
 "For heaven's sake, Eldon, speak out," de- 
 manded Mr. Tadmore. 
 
 Hurriedly Dr. Eldon imparted the dismaying 
 facts of Tom's misadventure. The mother stood 
 aghast, staring into her husband's horrified eyes. 
 His groaning words echoed her own anguish. 
 
 " Drowned in the Ohio ! Good God ! Lost in 
 the flood ! " 
 
 " No," said Felix firmly, " not necessarily lost ; 
 the house may hold together ; such disasters are 
 not always fatal; possibly he may be saved. 
 There is one chance in a thousand we will take 
 that chance and make the most of it." 
 
 "What can be done?" asked Mr. Tadmore, 
 grasping at a straw of hope. 
 
 " What may we not do, if we bestir ourselves 
 in time? We must not lose another minute 
 not a second. Fritz has already started on his 
 search, I know not by what means." 
 
 Tears of gratitude filled the eyes of Tom's 
 mother. Felix continued : 
 
 " I have telegraphed to the towns below. Peo- 
 ple will be on the lookout. You and I must 
 hasten to Cincinnati." 
 
 " Yes ! " assented Tadmore. " We must go on 
 horseback, the tracks are under water." 
 
 " Put on your rubber coat," suggested Eldon.
 
 TO THE KESCUE 169 
 
 "Keep a brave heart, Eliza. "We'll find Tom. 
 Don't alarm Hannah. "We'll telegraph to you. 
 We can avail ourselves of police assistance in the 
 city. There may be a better plan but I can think 
 of none better." 
 
 It was late when the two men set out for Cin- 
 cinnati, Felix Eldon mounting a spirited roan colt 
 and Mr. Tadmore bestriding an old racer named 
 Rocket. Their route lay along a hillside thor- 
 oughfare, far above the bottom-lands of the 
 river. The road was glazed with ice ; a cold 
 drizzle blew into the faces of the riders ; a double 
 gloom of fog and midnight shrouded the land- 
 scape; but the well -shod, sure-footed horses, 
 seeming to comprehend in some dim way be- 
 longing to brutes, that issues of supreme import 
 were at stake, kept up a brave gallop, ungoaded 
 by whip or spur. Onward they forged, steadily, 
 stubbornly, covered with a reek of foamy sweat 
 and snorting blood-flecked froth. Keeping in 
 mind the points of the compass, as well as they 
 could, the horsemen struck into Columbia Ave- 
 nue, by which they might have reached the city 
 easily ; but, by mischance, diverging onto Kemper 
 Lane in the wrong direction, they unwittingly 
 were carried to "Walnut Hills and thence along 
 Park Avenue into Eden Park. Their tired 
 horses plodded along, breathing hard, following 
 a devious course, and, at length, bore them across 
 a high stone causeway skirting the southern
 
 170 TOM TAD 
 
 border of the city reservoir, and onward, up a 
 steep grade, to the brow of a height which 
 seemed to end all hope of further journeying in 
 that direction. The jaded brutes suddenly halted, 
 and the perplexed travelers could only stare about 
 and exchange guesses as to where they were. 
 Within a few seconds the keen eyes of Felix 
 Eldon gave him indubitable evidence of his 
 whereabouts. Instantly he caught his bearings 
 and recovered a degree of the pathfinding faculty. 
 He thought he recognized the shadowy outlines 
 of buildings not unfamiliar to his sight, the old 
 observatory, the Highland House, and other con- 
 spicuous landmarks. The spot upon which the 
 horses paused was the verge of the plateau upon 
 which Rock wood Pottery now stands. By day- 
 light the men might have seen from that lofty 
 level the Queen City, the Ohio River and its 
 bridges, and the bold Kentucky hills. 
 
 "We have come far out of our way," said 
 Felix. " This is Mount Adams, and below us lies 
 Cincinnati. It looks like the Valley of the 
 Shadow of Death. We must have turned off too 
 soon and lost precious time by riding through 
 Eden Park. We must find or make a bridle-path 
 from this place to the city." 
 
 Admonished by the stings of anxiety, the men 
 resumed their journey, relying upon the instinct 
 of the dumb brutes rather than upon their own 
 human sagacity, to choose an available means of
 
 TO THE RESCUE 171 
 
 descent. Whether owing to mere good luck, or 
 to blind faith in horse-sense, or to the sure lead- 
 ing of the Divine Hand, they were carried safely 
 down along slippery winding ways to the west- 
 ern border of the Park; and, at length, were 
 borne under the stone archway of Elsinore Gate, 
 into Gilbert Avenue. Their journey was pursued 
 thence slowly along unfamiliar streets, not illu- 
 minated by a single public lamp, for the gas- 
 works were under water and the city was left 
 in total darkness. Finally they came to the 
 business centre of the metropolis, just as the 
 bells of St. Peter's Cathedral were chiming one 
 o'clock. 
 
 After seeing Eocket and the roan colt in com- 
 fortable stalls, the two tired men, gradually 
 losing heart, from a growing consciousness of the 
 futility of their precipitate mission, bent their 
 steps to the nearest newspaper office. Mr. Tad- 
 more procured a copy of the Daily News, fresh 
 from the press, and, standing under a swinging oil 
 lamp, scanned the pages for the latest accounts 
 of the flood. His eye soon lit upon an item 
 stating in a few blunt words what he knew too 
 well, namely, that a frame house in which were 
 an old man, a woman, and two boys, had been 
 swept away from Forest Glen on the previous 
 night. 
 
 " An old man, a woman, and two boys ! " re- 
 peated the bereft father, bitterly. " Two boys 1 "
 
 1Y2 TOM TAD 
 
 how lightly the reporter penciled that down. 
 " Two boys 1 One boy ! My little Tom ! " 
 
 The rain which had been falling intermittently 
 during the night, suddenly began to pour down 
 with violence, a cold pitiless deluge. Eldon 
 noticed that the great drops struck the shiny 
 flagstones, like liquid bullets, splashing up jets of 
 spray from the shallow pools into which their 
 volley fell. The gutters hissed and foamed ; 
 the catch-basins overflowed, spouting and gur- 
 gling ; the flushed streets leading southward were 
 changed into chafing rapids. 
 
 Through the hammering rain tramped Tad- 
 more and his companion, bound for the ofiice of 
 the Chief of Police. They accosted a stolid 
 watchman wearing a rubber coat and peering 
 out from under the visor of his black helmet. 
 The officer paused long enough to hear the 
 dismal story of the house, and to answer one or 
 two urgent questions. Then with a shrug, a 
 swing of his club, and a not unsympathetic shake 
 of his head, he moved on saying : 
 
 " I don't know anything about it, sir ; how the 
 hell do you suppose a policeman can stop a house 
 from, drifting down the river ? " 
 
 The nocturnal pilgrimage to police headquar- 
 ters elicited no encouraging information. The 
 drowsy lieutenant, who sat in a large swivel 
 chair, on being made acquainted with the nature 
 of their trouble, yawned and said :
 
 TO THE KESCUE 1T3 
 
 "Well, gents, I can't advise you. Nothing 
 can be done that I know of. You can't send out 
 a force this time of night, especially on the 
 water. Besides, the house must have drifted 
 past Cincinnati by this time. This current runs 
 faster than you can ride. You'd best go to the 
 Western Union and find if you can learn any- 
 thing there." 
 
 Tadmore groaned in spirit as he pursued fur- 
 ther quest from square to square, in the forlorn 
 hope of gaining some reassuring counsel or some 
 faint rumor which might import the final deliver- 
 ance of his son. How utterly weak and helpless 
 he felt in the midst of the slumbering city ! 
 Most of the public officials whom he attempted 
 to see, were at home in their beds. The opera- 
 tors in the telegraph offices answered questions 
 mechanically, apparently indifferent to the pite- 
 ous story and eager requests, to which they lent 
 a weary ear. 
 
 Once more the despondent father and his kins- 
 man were on the gloomy street, exhausted, 
 aching from cold and wet, but no nearer the ac- 
 complishment of their desire, than when they 
 started from home. 
 
 " Ah, Felix, there is not a ray of hope ! 
 Tom is drowned. "We shall never see the boy 
 again." 
 
 Eldon put his hand upon his friend's shoulder. 
 
 " Tadmore, don't play the woman. No news
 
 1T4 TOM TAD 
 
 is good news. I shan't give up until I know 
 that our thousandth chance has failed. Keep 
 a stiff upper lip. Our long ride was too much 
 for you. You must take a little rest or you'll 
 break down. Somewhere along this row I 
 noticed a place where we may get a cup of hot 
 coffee ; here is the sign." 
 
 He pointed to a transparency on which Mr. 
 Tadmore read the words : 
 
 LUNCH BOOM. 
 
 Open all Night. 
 Meals 15c. 
 
 They entered a dingy, narrow room, supplied 
 with a few small tables each spread with oil- 
 cloth and set with plates, salt box and vinegar 
 cruet. On a lunch counter stood a battered 
 coffee urn and behind this was a broad shelf dis- 
 playing ham-sandwiches, a crock of baked beans 
 and a segment of nondescript pie. In the rear 
 of the " restaurant," a cannon stove, gray from 
 age, showed within its open mouth a chunk of 
 coal spluttering feeble blue blazes through oozing 
 tar. 
 
 The proprietor of the resort, a fat Irishman 
 whose left arm was in a sling, welcomed his 
 customers cheerily, kicked the stove door shut to 
 increase the draft, and shoved one of the tables 
 nearer to the fire.
 
 TO THE RESCUE ITS 
 
 " A bad night, surs. That stove will warm ye 
 fast enough. It heats up, like a woman's temper, 
 and heats down as quick. You are out late, 
 gintlemen. It's nearin' mornin'." 
 
 " We came in," said Eldon, " to get a bite to 
 eat and a cup of coffee. Bring us what you 
 have." 
 
 The Irishman brought sandwiches, baked 
 beans, and pie ; then fetched the coffee, horrible 
 stuff, nauseating to swallow and disgusting in 
 the stomach. Yet the worn-out travelers, to 
 allay headache and stimulate exhausted nerves, 
 forced themselves to sip the coffee and nibble 
 the sandwiches. 
 
 " Still rainin' and risin'," remarked the eating- 
 house keeper, feeling it his professional duty to 
 be sociable. 
 
 " Seventy feet," continued he, " is purty deep 
 for a river that I could wade across last Septem- 
 ber. If the clerk of the weather don't shut up 
 the windys of heaven soon, we'll have to build 
 Noah's arks. That minds me of what a man 
 from Covington towld me last evenin'. He was 
 com in' over the Suspinsion Bridge, and he saw 
 some queer sights on the river. A farmhouse 
 came drifting down, like a boat, and there was an 
 old nigger a settin' on the roof wavin' his arms 
 and hollerinV 
 
 Mr. Tadmore put down his cup and listened 
 intently.
 
 176 TOM TAD 
 
 "Well? "he said. 
 
 " "Well, sur, the house wint whirlin' under the 
 bridge; there wasn't time to turn a pancake; 
 nothin' was to be done for the old black fellow, 
 and the divil knows what became of 'im." 
 
 Felix rose, paid for the refreshment, and, fol- 
 lowed by Mr. Tadmore, left the eating-room, 
 glad to return to the open air. The raining had 
 ceased, though the murky clouds continued to 
 lower. The deep gloom of night was beginning 
 to give place to the struggling gray of early 
 morning. The noise of wheels of milk wagons 
 and bakers' vans, announced the revival of the 
 day's routine. People were seen coming and 
 going along the drenched pavements, or unlock- 
 ing the doors of the places of business. 
 
 Mournfully did Eldon greet the approaching 
 day, for he was sick at heart and on the verge of 
 despair, though he kept up a show of cheerful- 
 ness, to prevent the total collapse of his brother's 
 self-control. He proposed walking down Vine 
 Street as far as the encroaching high water 
 would permit. A very short walk southward 
 from Fourth Street brought them to the edge of 
 the vast expanse of muddy river. Thus far and 
 no farther could they proceed on foot. It is not 
 possible to imagine a prospect more dismal than 
 that which lay before them. In the haze of fog 
 and coal smoke, they beheld, instead of streets, 
 dreary canals, lapping against brick walls, creep-
 
 TO THE RESCUE 177 
 
 ing all around houses, crawling in at upper win- 
 dows. The melancholy scene was suggestive 
 only of sorrow, destruction and death. Tom 
 Tadmore's father, touching his companion's arm, 
 turned his back upon the scene of desolation and, 
 automatically retracing his steps to Fourth 
 Street, indicated by a gesture his desire to visit 
 once more the News Building, which occupied a 
 conspicuous corner not far away. The pair, 
 speaking not a word, but each lost in his own 
 doleful thoughts, forgetting their chilled and ex- 
 hausted bodies in the keener misery of mind, 
 walked slowly to the newspaper office. A large 
 bulletin board had been placed in front of the 
 counting-room, so that those who ran might read 
 the latest despatches relating to the calamitous 
 flood in which all were interested. A slender 
 young man, with a paste-pot and a brush, was in 
 the act of pasting a large sheet of manila paper 
 upon the board at the moment when Tadmore 
 and Eldon came to the corner. They read these 
 words : 
 
 SHOCKING DISASTER! 
 
 HORRIBLE FATE OF A FAMILY! 
 
 Forest Glen Inundated. 
 
 House Swept Away in the 
 
 Mighty Maelstrom. 
 FOUR PERSONS DROWNED I
 
 XXIY 
 WASH BAETON'S LAST VOYAGE 
 
 A CBY of terror issued from Tom's throat 
 when he realized that he was a castaway on a 
 merciless flood. His impulse was to rush to the 
 window and call for help. But his voice could 
 not be heard on shore over the noise of storm 
 and rushing water, and, had it been heard, who 
 would heed a forlorn voice in the night ? 
 
 " It's of no use to yell," said Sam Noggle, sus- 
 tained by the self-possession which never failed 
 him. " It's of no use to yell. Why don't you 
 light the lamp, mother, so we can see what we 
 are about ? " 
 
 The yellow gleam of the light showed that 
 Sam's cheek was not blanched, nor his lip tremu- 
 lous. Tom's pride rallied, and he summoned up 
 courage. "Wash Barton observed with admira- 
 tion the conduct of the boys ; but the old man 
 was much disquieted to notice that Helen Noggle, 
 contrary to her usual habit, manifested abject 
 fear. Sam, looking at his mother, was more 
 troubled by her ghastly features than by the 
 perils of the flood. 
 
 "Sit down, mother," he said gently. "We 
 
 178
 
 WASH BARTON'S LAST VOYAGE 1Y9 
 
 must depend on you." She staggered to a chair 
 and sank upon it, bowing her face upon her 
 knees. 
 
 " Don't lose heart, Nelly my girl. You are 
 generally the bravest of us all. Remember I am 
 an experienced waterman, and know the tricks 
 of this river. Never say die. The chances are 
 that this craft will hold together many an hour, 
 or many a day, for that matter. I've drifted 
 down to New Orleans on a raft not to compare 
 with this for comfort. You see we float along 
 safely enough now, and why should we be scared 
 out of our wits ? " 
 
 " Somebody will be sure to see us," said Sam, 
 in the same strain of hope, " and bring us off in 
 a boat. Or if the worst comes, we can swim 
 ashore in the morning. You can swim, can't 
 you, Tom ? " 
 
 "Yes, I can swim a little," answered Tom, 
 making a strong effort to be as tranquil as Sam 
 appeared to be. " I swam across Glen Creek last 
 summer, and that's about fifty feet wide ; but I 
 got the cramps." 
 
 " One thing is certain," pursued Sam, trying 
 desperately to be cheerful, " we can't wade out. 
 The water is sixty or seventy feet deep below us. 
 How would you like to dive down to the bottom 
 and bring up a bowlder ? " 
 
 Helen Noggle dropped her hands in her lap, 
 slowly raised her haggard face, and fixed her
 
 180 TOM TAD 
 
 bloodshot eyes on her son, rolling them to follow 
 his every motion, and turning her head to keep 
 him in view when he walked about. 
 
 " It would take a good swimmer," said Old 
 Barton, " to keep his head above water in such a 
 rough current as this, considering how cold it is, 
 and how much drift and ice there is." 
 
 Mrs. Noggle shivered, and Sam wrapped a 
 blanket around her shoulders. 
 
 " If we get safe past the Dry Docks and the 
 bridges at Cincinnati," continued Barton, " we've 
 little to dread. There are hundreds of brave 
 fellows to rescue us, and they will think it fun 
 to do so. But there is a right smart chance of 
 danger from the Dry Docks and from the piers 
 of Newport Bridge. But never cross a bridge 
 till you come to it, and I reckon we'd better not 
 strike the pier till we come to it." 
 
 " Better not strike it at all, nor think of it, 
 gran'daddy. "What good will it do to think of 
 it ? If we must give up the ship I've made up 
 my mind what to do. I'll swim to the land with 
 mother, and you must do the best you can to tow 
 Tom ashore." 
 
 A grateful smile of wonderful sweetness came 
 over Helen Noggle's face. It seemed as if she 
 had snatched away a mask from her features 
 and revealed a countenance of radiant beauty ; 
 but while Sam was regarding this miraculous 
 visage, the mask covered it again ; he saw a
 
 WASH BAKTON'S LAST VOYAGE 181 
 
 ghastly, haggard face, and bloodshot eyes, eyes 
 riveted on him. 
 
 " I am glad daddy and Mandy are not here, 
 anyhow. The fewer passengers the better in 
 such a boat as this. We shan't charge you for 
 your passage, Tom." 
 
 The wind had risen, and was blowing fitfully 
 up stream, and a heavy gust buffeted the house 
 and caused it to tip considerably to one side. 
 
 " She's top-heavy, boys. We've too much 
 freight on the upper deck. Best dump some of 
 the furniture into the hold, or throw it overboard. 
 Here, help me heave this stove down the gang- 
 way." 
 
 The boys set to work with old Wash and the 
 stove was tumbled down the stairs, and fell witl 
 an ominous splash and plunge into the watery 
 basement. Other articles were likewise thrown 
 down to the lower room. Mr. Barton advised a 
 general clearance of the " cabins," as he called 
 the apartments above stairs, and the boys even 
 took down the bedsteads and consigned them to 
 the "hold." "Now, shipmates," said the old 
 voyager, " she is in ballast trim." It was a good 
 thing for Tom that he engaged in this active 
 work, which distracted his mind temporarily 
 from awful apprehensions. But when every- 
 thing that the room contained, excepting the 
 table, the chairs and the bedding, was pitched 
 down, and there was no more work to do, he
 
 182 TOM TAD 
 
 naturally gave way to dreadful thoughts. His 
 reason told him there was scarcely a possibility 
 that the frail, shackling frame of an old house, 
 held together by a few nails, could long with- 
 stand the destructive rage of wind and wave, 
 even should it escape demolition by crashing 
 against some obstacle. Besides, he was con- 
 vinced that Sam had no real hope, and he as- 
 cribed Old Barton's composure not to assurance 
 of safety but to contempt of danger. Instinc- 
 tive terror swept through him, like a chilling 
 blast, as he suddenly realized the full horror 
 of his situation. That he must perish seemed 
 inevitable must drown in the Ohio must 
 strangle to death in the cold, black water, and 
 never more be seen or heard of. The faces of 
 the dear ones at home rose vividly in his mind ; 
 all were there not excepting Fritz. Even the 
 dog's trustful eyes were fixed upon him. He 
 heard his mother's gentle voice, he heard the 
 notes of " Home, Sweet, Sweet Home," played 
 softly on the piano by Sister Han. Vision suc- 
 ceeded vision in his whirling brain ; the sound of 
 weltering eddies and swashing waves mixed with 
 far-away voices which seemed to say, " Don't be 
 foolhardy, my son ! Keep away from the river." 
 Overpowered by remorse and dread, the lad sank 
 to his knees in paralyzing despair. 
 
 The doomed house drifted on. How fast it 
 was going who could tell ? How long it had
 
 WASH BAKTON'S LAST VOYAGE 183 
 
 been floating none of its inmates could say. 
 They had lost the faculty of estimating the length 
 of an hour. It seemed to Tom that an eternity 
 had elapsed since the dire voyage was begun. 
 He silently prayed God to comfort his mother 
 and father, and strove to fix his hope on heaven. 
 
 A crash! A shock! A swirl! A confusion 
 of rushing noises ! The lamp slides from the up- 
 tilted table and falls to the floor shivered to 
 fragments, and all is dark ! No one uttered a 
 cry; each felt that the end had come. But it 
 was not so. The projecting porch of the house 
 had struck a pier of the Newport Bridge, and 
 was torn from the main building, causing a gen- 
 eral loosening of timbers, and a change in the 
 centre of gravity which made the floor dip at an 
 angle of eight or ten degrees. Wash Barton 
 guessed what had happened, and, on groping to 
 the window and looking out, he was confirmed 
 in his conclusion. 
 
 " All right, boys ! That was Newport Bridge ! 
 Thank your lucky stars that we have got past it, 
 and past the Dry Docks. We are opposite Cin- 
 cinnati. We will soon swoop under the great 
 Suspension Bridge. No danger then, or now, 
 unless we run into a boat. But there is one more 
 pier bridge to pass, the Southern Kailroad 
 Bridge. If we miss the piers there, we are safe ! " 
 
 " Let's holler for help, gran'daddy," said Sam, 
 in a high fever of excitement.
 
 184 TOM TAD 
 
 "Help! Help! Hallo!" 
 
 "Help! Help! Ho!" echoed Tom. Old 
 Barton also joined in the cry, and so did Helen 
 Noggle, and the four continued to shout and 
 scream while their rocking prison sped down the 
 middle of the river. Many heard their wild hal- 
 loos, and, as the hurrying mass of wall and roof 
 was gliding under the Suspension Bridge, two 
 men in a skiff made an attempt to pull alongside. 
 
 "Help! Help! Help!" 
 
 " My God ! Bill, it's a house with people in it ! '' 
 exclaimed one of the men in the boat to his com- 
 panion. 
 
 " Let 'em rip ! " answered the other in a gruff 
 voice, and with an oath. " Look out for number 
 one!" 
 
 "We might save their lives, Bill. Hear the 
 woman. screech ! " 
 
 " We've got to save our own bacon, and get 
 away from the cops. Let 'em rip, I say ! " 
 
 "Help! Help! Help!" 
 
 The cry came faintly over the water from the 
 hoarse throats of the boys. 
 
 The doomed house drifted on, past the twink- 
 ling lights, past the threatening piers of the 
 lower bridge, past Cincinnati, past many a farm 
 and many a lone cottage, until, at length its mo- 
 tion was suddenly arrested by some lodged ob- 
 struction. The castaways, though unable to dis- 
 cern what stopped them, were none the less
 
 WASH BARTON'S LAST VOYAGE 185 
 
 rejoiced to realize that they no longer drifted, 
 but were somehow at anchor, albeit their ship 
 was sorely tossed and shaken by the embroiled 
 element that still heaved and grumbled around 
 and beneath it. 
 
 " I told you we would come through all right, 
 boys. "We've got into some sort of a port. All 
 we've to do is to keep up our spirits and wait till 
 morning. Where are you, Nelly ? I can hardly 
 see my hand before my eyes in this dungeon. 
 But I think I saw a glimmer of light away off 
 yonder. Sam, come here; can you make out 
 what it is ? " 
 
 " I see a light," exclaimed Tom. " Look, Sam, 
 there it shines, like a candle." 
 
 "That must be in Kentucky," said Sam. 
 " Maybe it is a lamp shining from some window. 
 Don't you wish we were there ? Mother, come 
 and see the light ! " 
 
 Mrs. Noggle did not answer. She was at that 
 moment putting to her lips a flask. 
 
 " Nelly, is anything ailing you, child ? " A 
 prolonged shriek pierced the darkness and 
 appalled Tom's ears. It was succeeded by an- 
 other, and another still more terrific. The utter- 
 ance of three such violent cries seemed to exhaust 
 the woman's strength, for after the effort she was 
 heard to pant like one outdone in a race for life. 
 The old man's voice when he next spoke, was 
 husky and hollow.
 
 186 TOM TAD 
 
 " She has the delirium again ! How did she 
 come by liquor at such a time ? My poor Nelly ! 
 My pet ! My little beauty ! Sam ! Sam ! Sam ! 
 Listen to me ! Keep away from whiskey as from 
 hell-fire and damnation ! See to what it has 
 brought your poor mother, my darling Nelly, 
 my pretty innocent girl ! " The old man dropped 
 his head upon Sam's shoulder and gave way to 
 sobs, hearing which, the insane woman mur- 
 mured : 
 
 " Stop crying, Sam ! Sh ! It's not your fault ! 
 "We only called it your baby because you took 
 care of it. No, no, no, no ! the rats and fishes 
 shan't have it ! " 
 
 Sam disengaged himself from his grandfather's 
 arms and went to his mother, who was attempt- 
 ing to rise. 
 
 " Mother ! sit still ; don't try to get up." 
 
 He placed a hand upon her shoulder, and she, 
 grasping his arm, pulled him down beside her 
 where she crouched upon the floor. 
 
 " Hush ! Listen ! Hear them plunging and 
 hissing under the boat ! There comes a gar with 
 red eyes and a long tail like a black snake, 
 crawling up crawling up crawling up I 
 There's another ! There's a thousand all wrig- 
 gling and hissing ! Keep them off ! " Shriek- 
 ing as she had done before, the dipsomaniac 
 struggled to her feet and made frantic efforts to 
 break away from Sam who called aloud :
 
 WASH BARTON'S LAST VOYAGE 187 
 
 " Help me hold her ! She will jump into the 
 river ! " 
 
 "With his grandfather's assistance, Sam suc- 
 ceeded in placing the wretched woman upon a 
 heap of bedding which had been cast upon the 
 floor when the bedsteads were taken down. The 
 old man sat down on one side of his daughter 
 and Sam on the other, and each held one of her 
 hands. She continued to rave and scream inter- 
 mittently, but at length became passive and lay 
 quiescent. Hoping that she had fallen asleep, 
 her attendants remained silent, and Tom, still 
 standing by the window and gazing at the light 
 on the Kentucky shore, heard no other sound 
 than the growl and swirl of the water which 
 rushed around and through the wreck. The rain 
 had ceased but the wind was blowing a gale, up 
 stream. In a lull of the gust, Mrs. Noggle was 
 heard to murmur incoherently the words, " Come ! 
 Come!" 
 
 " What does she say ? " whispered Sam. 
 
 " I say come tell father to come." 
 
 "He is here, mother. I am with you, too, 
 and Tom Tadmore, you remember him." 
 
 No answer came from the unhappy woman, 
 the deep breathing of whose weary breast in- 
 dicated slumber. But after a brief interval, she 
 again started up with a wailing cry : " The baby ! 
 It's sinking ! It's sinking ! Let me go ! I'll dive 
 to the bottom and bring it back ! Let me loose I "
 
 188 TOM TAD 
 
 Helen ^Toggle's cries and struggles, except in 
 occasional spells of exhaustion, were thus re- 
 peated throughout the remainder of the night. 
 
 When morning dawned, and objects began to 
 show their dim outlines through the mist, it was 
 discovered that a great part of the house had 
 been pounded to pieces by the flood, and what 
 remained was a mere rickety shell which shook 
 and swayed in the wind, threatening to break 
 away at any moment from the grapnelling limbs 
 of a gigantic sycamore tree, by which it had 
 been stopped in its fateful course. Lodged in a 
 branch of the same tree were two objects which 
 had drifted together, a wheelbarrow and an 
 empty coffin. All this the boys observed with 
 dismay, but their spirits revived when, straining 
 anxious eyes towards the Kentucky hills, they 
 made out the shape of a human habitation. 
 They hoped that some inmate of that shadowy 
 house might see their plight and come to their 
 rescue. Wash Barton would not desert his post 
 beside his daughter, but the fatigue and care of 
 his long watch had so worn his aged body that, 
 in spite of his will, he dropped into a doze while 
 he sat with Kelly's hand in his. 
 
 Sam fastened to a stick a piece of muslin torn 
 from a sheet, and this he waved constantly to at- 
 tract attention from the shore, should any one be 
 stirring. What words can convey an idea of 
 his emotions when he saw or fancied he saw an
 
 WASH BARTON'S LAST VOYAGE 189 
 
 answering signal flutter from the top of the 
 house on the hill ! Tears gushed to his eyes and 
 blinded him, and his heart throbbed so fast that 
 he could only gasp out the words, " Tom, look 
 there ! " Tom saw the signal, and, throwing his 
 arms about Sam, sobbed joyously, " They see us ! 
 They will save us ! " 
 
 Before the boys had sufficiently recovered self- 
 possession to know what next to do or say, 
 they heard a halloo and beheld a man running 
 down to the river shore. They saw him get into 
 a boat and pull towards them, up stream, against 
 the strong current. What a shout they raised ! 
 Wash Barton started from his nodding sleep, and 
 came to the window. 
 
 " See, gran'daddy ! a boat 1 The man is com- 
 ing to save us ! " 
 
 "I told you all along that it would be so. 
 I'll trust myself on the Ohio River in a soup 
 plate." 
 
 A creaking noise and a dull crash of wet plas- 
 ter falling at his feet interrupted Barton's cheery 
 words. 
 
 " The floor is coming apart ! " screamed Tom. 
 " The house is splitting to pieces ! " 
 
 A heavy log had driven against the wreck and 
 knocked away the principal braces that held it 
 together. One side of the roof came down, and 
 the water swept over the broken floor. Helen 
 Noggle, aroused by this awful catastrophe, sat
 
 190 TOM TAD 
 
 up ; the foam flew around her, blown from the 
 invading waves. 
 
 "The baby! Sam's baby! I'll bring it 
 back ! " 
 
 "Mother! Mother! Hold fast to the roof! 
 See ! there's a boat coming to save us ! " 
 
 The distracted woman gave no heed to her 
 son's words. "With the swiftness of a leopard 
 she sprang away and plunged into the river. 
 Sam instantly jumped after her. 
 
 "Nelly! oh my child!" 
 
 With this broken cry of anguish "Wash Barton 
 leapt headlong after his daughter whom he vainly 
 hoped to save. He was swallowed from sight, 
 but, a moment later, the man's gray head ap- 
 peared above the surface, and Sam, buffeting the 
 surge, caught a glimpse of his mother's face 
 veiled in the frothing waves. He saw her arms 
 clasp the neck of her father, and the two sank 
 and were never more seen by human eye. 
 
 The wreck swung loose from the sycamore 
 tree ; the tumultuous current, heaped in chopping 
 waves by the wind, bore away the roof and scat- 
 tered timbers ; Tom was within the jaws of the 
 flood. The skiff from the Kentucky shore had 
 approached the tree, and the man who was row- 
 ing strained every nerve and muscle. In vain ! 
 He cannot rescue the drowning boys. God pity 
 them ! 
 
 But see! What craft rides the rough river,
 
 FRIT/. SKI/.KI) SAM S ARM.
 
 WASH BAKTON'S LAST VOYAGE 191 
 
 tossing and pitching like some unwieldy box? 
 The frail sco\v bears a man with shaggy head, 
 and the oars are in his knotty hands. His boat 
 leaps and plunges down the turbulent stream, 
 it spins around in the whirling vortex caused by 
 the ruin of the house. The man with the shaggy 
 head reaches out his knotty hands and drags up 
 from the hissing water Tom Tadmore, numb 
 with cold and half strangled. "Gott in Him- 
 mel," says Fritz Haberkorn, " I pring tzu hause 
 unser leetle poy ! " At that instant Sam Nog- 
 gle's blue hand shot above the water and clutched 
 the edge of the providential Jo-boat. Fritz 
 seized Sam's arm and was drawing the shivering 
 boy into his craft when a staunch skiff hove 
 alongside, and a cheerful voice said : 
 
 " Let me have hold of one. Hold your ship 
 steady, colonel, and I'll lift the other boy into my 
 long-boat. Now then ! Steady ! Jump in your- 
 self, sir, and take your seat there in the stern." 
 
 Fritz did as directed, and the floundering scow 
 in which he had voyaged from Forest Glen 
 drifted away empty in company with a wheel- 
 barrow and a coffin.
 
 XXV 
 
 HOME AGAIN 
 
 MAJOR CASSIUS YERNON, the stalwart Ken- 
 tuckian whose timely efforts came to the rescue 
 of the boys and of their heroic saviour, plied his 
 strong oars steadily and soon succeeded in bring- 
 ing the skiff to shore near a large, old-fashioned 
 country mansion. Two women and a group of 
 children stood waiting, in anxious suspense, to 
 receive whomever the Major should chance to 
 bring to land. By the aid of the women, the 
 half-drowned boys were carried to the house 
 where their vitality was restored by every art 
 known to domestic nursing and medication. 
 
 Fritz Haberkorn was in almost as much need 
 of warmth and stimulation as were Tom and 
 Sam, nor were his wants neglected. Major Yer- 
 non, having seen the boys hopefully reviving 
 under the ministration of his wife and the house- 
 maid, hastily returned to the uncomplaining 
 German, bearing in hand a big decanter taken 
 from the sideboard. 
 
 " Here ! " said he, pouring into a tumbler a 
 stream so copious that the liquor overflowed, 
 spilling upon the parlor carpet. "Drink it 
 
 192
 
 HOME AGAIN 193 
 
 down! do you good; the best old Bourbon 
 Whiskey in God's universe." 
 
 Fritz, though he needed no urging, did not for- 
 get the demands of courtesy. Before putting the 
 goblet to his bearded lips, he made a military 
 salute : " Here iss your goot healt unt your lady. 
 By golly ! dot Schnapps schmect goot ! A leetle 
 not hurt dose poy, eh ? " 
 
 Major Vernon immediately sent a messenger 
 to the nearest telegraph office with despatches to 
 Tom's father and also to the Cincinnati press, 
 giving brief information that the boys were safe, 
 and that Washington Barton and Mrs. Noggle 
 had herished in the flood. 
 
 Fritz was impatient to return to Forest Glen 
 and restore Tom to the home folks, as he had 
 pledged Uncle Felix that he would do so ; and 
 though Major Vernon assured him over and 
 over again that a telegram would relieve the 
 anxiety of the Tadmores, the German had 
 doubts. 
 
 " By golly, Fritz vas der beste telegraph, eh 
 Tom ? Not ? Ha, ha, ha." 
 
 " Well, if you will not stay over with us until 
 to-morrow, and the boys are able to travel, there 
 is a relief boat going up and I will pilot you to 
 Cincinnati." 
 
 This proposition was accepted gratefully. A 
 small government transport ascended the river 
 that day and upon this the two men took pan-
 
 194 TOM TAD 
 
 sage, each in charge of a boy, the Major took 
 care of Sam, and Fritz rarely permitted Tom's 
 hand to escape from his own jealous grip. The 
 government boat landed its passengers on a 
 floating dock from which they were conveyed in 
 a broad-bottomed-yawl to solid footing, on the 
 paving stones of Yine Street, near the Burnet 
 House. 
 
 Thomas Tadmore, senior, and Dr. Felix Eldon, 
 waiting on the sidewalk, saw the yawl coming up 
 the street, like a gondola in Yenice. They swal- 
 lowed their thumping hearts and tried to look 
 dignified and undemonstrative. Now the fine 
 art of affecting a nonchalant air, to hide strong 
 emotion, often unattainable by the wise and 
 great, may be mastered by babes and sucklings. 
 Tom out-faced his father and his uncle, at their 
 own false game. He jumped out of the boat 
 with a look of unconcern, as if nothing out of 
 the ordinary had occurred, and sang out, in a 
 chipper tone, 
 
 " Hello, pop, is that you ? Hey, Uncle Felix 1 " 
 
 " You ought to be thrashed ! " responded pop, 
 
 with grim tenderness. " Your mother " The 
 
 paternal voice broke and old Fritz relieved him- 
 self of a Teutonic gutteral. 
 
 On his arrival at home, the lost lamb who had 
 been found by Fritz, abandoned every pretense 
 of indifference when his mother hugged him in 
 fond arms, and he heard his sister sobbing with
 
 HOME AGAIN 195 
 
 hysterical joy. Haberkorn knuckling rainy eyes, 
 rumbled : 
 
 " Don't I pring him, by golly, shust vot I told ? " 
 
 Tom twisted himself out of his mother's ex- 
 clusive embrace. 
 
 " Fritz got me by the hair and pulled me out. 
 Guess he was mad at me. He wanted me back here 
 to help him do the work and to talk German with." 
 
 Uncle Felix laughed in a lachrymal fashion. 
 " After all," said he, " don't you forget we are 
 indebted to Squinty Kunkle for Tom's life; 
 Squinty proclaimed aloud in church that the 
 scamp had drifted away." 
 
 " How was that ? " asked Tom and his mother 
 in the same breath. 
 
 Felix gave the particulars of Squinty's appear- 
 ance at the concert. Fritz listened with open 
 ears, eyes and mouth. 
 
 " By golly," said he, " I vish dot leetle Shquinty 
 Gosh vas live somevare." 
 
 "With characteristic resignation, Peter Noggle 
 received the intelligence that his wife and father- 
 in-law were drowned. The dismal news spread 
 about the village and Peter heard it before Sam 
 and Tom had returned. Uncle Felix called on 
 the widower to talk over plans for the care of 
 Sam and Mandy. 
 
 " I don't reckon, probably, we could git along 
 without Sam," complained the bereaved philoso- 
 pher. " Mandy is poorly, and I'm weakish about
 
 196 TOM TAD 
 
 the chist, this damp spell, and now Washington 
 he's not here to do the chores." Here Peter 
 sniffled. 
 
 " But, Mr. Noggle, you ought to be willing to 
 do the best you can by your son. Major Vernon 
 will give him a fine start in life." 
 
 " Ya-a-a-s ; but seems like Sam ort to stick by 
 us ; or maybe not. It's all this-a-way, or that-a- 
 way, as you might say, and no telling how anything 
 might turn out in the long run, Dr. Eldon, as you 
 kin see yourself. Dear me, dear me ; what time 
 mought it be by your Tratch ? " 
 
 Felix felt like pulverizing toggle for this in- 
 opportune question. The imperturbable mourner 
 went on in his maundering monotone, "And 
 there's to be no buryin', they tell me, for the 
 corpses didn't come up. I'd a like to have saw 
 her laid out, for Helen was a spry woman. And 
 he was an able-bodied man. This flood's a heavy 
 slam on me." 
 
 After the high water went down, temporary 
 quarters were found for the Noggles, in a tene- 
 ment near the lumber-yard. Sam found em- 
 ployment in the Buckeye Planing Mill; Mandy 
 helped her father keep house ; Peter, habitually 
 shirking domestic responsibility, spent most of 
 his time fishing or polishing mussel shells, by 
 which precarious industries he occasionally earned 
 as much as four "bits" in twenty-four hours. 
 The income sufficed to feed his corncob pipe.
 
 XXVI 
 
 SWEET GIBL GEADUATES 
 
 SPRING slipped away and the school year 
 reached its terminus. Every preparation had 
 been made for the graduating exercises which 
 took place early in June. The senior class of the 
 Forest Glen High School consisted of eight girls 
 and one boy. 
 
 With what pride and pleasure did the honored 
 nine wear the class pin and sport the class colors, 
 a rosette of narrow ribbon, purple and gold! 
 What swelling emotion tightened their young 
 bosoms when first they saw the little folios of 
 cardboard bearing on the front page the words : 
 
 COMMENCEMENT 
 
 Forest Glen High School 
 
 at 
 
 Boomer* s Opera Hall 
 8 o'clock P. M. 
 
 The second page displayed, in large gilt letters, 
 the names of the graduates : Miss Cornelia Gen- 
 evieve Atkinson, Miss Blanchie Snyder Everton 
 
 197
 
 198 TOM TAD 
 
 Bopp, Miss Minnie Culpepper, and so on to the 
 last name, Mr. Albert St. Clair Blumas. The 
 roster was headed, 
 
 CLASS OF 1884. 
 
 The third page presented the order of exercises, 
 comprising prayer, music, essays, orations, pre- 
 sentation of diplomas and an address by Hon. 
 Philander Borewell. The last tablet of the pro- 
 gram was enriched with the Class Song, com- 
 posed by Miss Sadie Smythe, and set to music by 
 Herr Von Schlag. 
 
 An hour before the time announced for the 
 ceremonies to begin, Boomer's was crowded to 
 its utmost capacity. Besides the kinfolk and ac- 
 quaintances of the graduates, many " friends of 
 education" were present, from the village and 
 its vicinity. Most of these had received en- 
 graved cards of special invitation, but not a few 
 less favored citizens, jealous of their democratic 
 rights, ignoring class distinction, managed to 
 press into the very choicest seats, in spite of the 
 vociferous protests of dapper ushers with rose- 
 buds in their buttonholes. Among those neg- 
 lected in the distribution of complimentary 
 tickets, was Barclay Snooks who, nevertheless, 
 scrouged through the throng at the door and 
 elbowed his way to a choice sitting. Squinty 
 Kunkle timidly slipped in and squeezed himself 
 close in a corner of the hall where he looked as
 
 SWEET GIRL GRADUATES 199 
 
 flat and motionless as the outline figure of a 
 satyr in the wall-paper behind him. 
 
 The annual commencement was an affair to 
 which almost every family in the school district 
 looked forward with the pride of personal and 
 tax-paying interest. Society regarded the event 
 as an amateur entertainment of elevated charac- 
 ter, free to all classes; and all classes availed 
 themselves of their inalienable rights. The 
 " people " came out in full force and they were 
 enthusiastically happy. 
 
 What a murmuring chorus of amiable talk ! 
 What a fluttering of fans ! and,. dear me ! what a 
 craning of necks ! what a rising and bowing near 
 the front of the auditorium when Mrs. Blumas 
 and Mrs. Bogus, sailing down the middle aisle, 
 followed by their distinguished husbands, the 
 Doctor and the Judge, rustled to their reserved 
 chairs over which three ushers had been stand- 
 ing guard. Before taking his seat, the Judge 
 turned his ample face toward the audience and 
 stood for several seconds, surveying the living 
 scene with grave and lofty approval. 
 
 The Blumases and the Boguses having arrived, 
 there was no necessity for further delay, and all 
 eyes were now fixed on the stage. Never be- 
 fore, in the recollection of the oldest commence- 
 ment-goer in Forest Glen, had the rostrum and 
 the scenery environing it, presented so charming 
 a spectacle. The potted palms, the flags, the
 
 200 TOM TAD 
 
 hangings, the class-motto: LABOR OMNI A 
 VINCIT, done in great cardboard capitals 
 covered with arbor vitae, looked just splendid in 
 the light of a dozen gas jets reinforced by feebler 
 rays from a line of oil lamps ranged footlight- 
 wise along the front of the stage. Such was the 
 brilliant setting for the academic performance ; 
 but O, you should have beheld the living actors 
 to whom all the decorations served but as a foil ! 
 The audience thrilled like one great heart when, 
 to slow march music timed on a square piano by 
 Herr Von Schlag, the twice four graceful girls 
 and the solitary gawky boy came filing in from 
 a side room and took possession of the numbered 
 chairs allotted to them. The pageant was hailed 
 with continuous clapping of hands and stamping 
 of boys' feet, emphasized by a few cat-calls of 
 emphatic indorsement. Before Albert St. Glair 
 Blumas could find his assigned seat, the " Fac- 
 ulty," a solemn procession, moved upon the 
 platform, headed by Principal Gadmeter, con- 
 voying Rev. Joshua Ennydox and Hon. Phi- 
 lander Borewell. The rear of the column was 
 brought up by Professor Ripantare who escorted 
 Miss Crinkler. There being no chair left unoc- 
 cupied, the Professor balanced himself upon the 
 piano stool where he posed uncomfortably, and 
 gloomed like an embarrassed Hamlet. 
 
 After nodding and mumbling aside, first to 
 the Honorable and then to the Reverend, the
 
 SWEET GIRL GRADUATES 201 
 
 Principal arose, threw back his head, waved his 
 hand, and announced that we would now listen 
 to the exercises of the evening as indicated on 
 the program in our hands. Before proceeding, 
 however, with the formal exercises, he deemed it 
 his duty to say a few words. Words came very 
 readily to Josephus Gadmeter; he spoke with 
 the I-go-on-forever fluency of Tennyson's brook. 
 The audience, though good-natured to a degree, 
 began to show symptoms of impatience which 
 the speaker mistook for applause, but when a 
 falsetto voice, not unfamiliar to the orator, cried 
 out " Time I " provoking a ripple of laughter, the 
 Principal, in some confusion and much wrath, 
 broke off abruptly and took his seat. Judge 
 Bogus instantly stood up, frowning official re- 
 buke upon everybody, and there is no telling 
 what judicial charge he might have delivered 
 had not his wife, twitching at his coat-tails, 
 wisely whispered him down. And now, Mr. 
 Gadmeter, half-rising, made a nervous gesture in 
 the direction of Preacher Ennydox, who tiptoed 
 forward at the signal and recited a very pretty 
 and solemn discourse in the form of prayer, giv- 
 ing the Almighty a deal of gratuitous advice 
 about education. 
 
 The piano music which followed the invoca- 
 tion brought general relief and many of the 
 auditors joined in buzzing conversation to the in- 
 finite disgust of Herr Von Schlag who scowled
 
 202 TOM TAD 
 
 right and left and shook his maestro locks while 
 he belabored the unoffending keys. 
 
 " What a shame ! " expostulated Mrs. Bogus, 
 " what a shame that the parents of these young 
 people permit their children to behave with such 
 discourtesy to an artist who can play like that ! " 
 
 Mrs. Blumas nodded her agreement, though 
 she admitted, under her breath, that she herself 
 didn't really enjoy classical music; it was so 
 heavy. For her part, give her "Monastery 
 Bells," or " The Battle of Waterloo." 
 
 The graduating essays were not remarkable 
 for simplicity or coherence, but they gave evi- 
 dence that the writers were " in touch " with the 
 encyclopedia and were surprisingly apt at quota- 
 tion, drawing largely upon Emerson, Carlyle and 
 Plato. What these rhetorical efforts lacked in 
 pith and sincerity was made up for by a super- 
 abundance of ornamental words. It was not the 
 fault of the young folks that they followed the 
 advice of their elders, imitated their predecessors, 
 and studied to be artificial. 
 
 Every sensible person in Boomer's Hall and 
 most people have good common sense, knew 
 well enough that the eight pretty girls and the 
 one self-conscious boy, were innocent victims of 
 a persistent convention, and that their essays and 
 orations ought not to be taken seriously as any 
 measure of real intelligence or power, but merely 
 as " graduation exercises," cut according to es-
 
 SWEET GIRL GRADUATES 203 
 
 tablished fashion, and just as essential to pro- 
 priety as are the two surviving buttons on a 
 man's coat-tail. 
 
 The Hon. Philander Bore well's address, 
 abounding in anecdotes and trite generalizations, 
 was cautiously conservative and piously patriotic. 
 Having concluded his discourse with sentences 
 of counsel and exhortation to the class, the great 
 man conferred the diplomas ceremoniously, and 
 closed the solemnity by shaking hands with the 
 breathless nine, beginning with the valedictorian 
 and finishing with Albert Blumas. 
 
 The last musical number was played, the bene- 
 diction was pronounced and the exercises were 
 over. The unanimous verdict of the audience 
 declared the commencement to be the " nicest " 
 the High School of Forest Glen had ever " got- 
 ten up." 
 
 On the day after the commencement, Tom 
 scribbled a long confidential letter, to his Cousin 
 Frank in St. Louis. So full was the writer's 
 memory and imagination, that he unburthened 
 himself impetuously, letting his words flow along 
 the channel of "least resistance." In the head- 
 long hurry of composition, he gave little heed to 
 rules of any kind, but, like Mark Antony, only 
 spoke right on. 
 
 "We had a big time last Wensday night at 
 Boomer's Hall where my sister Hannah and a 
 squad of elite other girls from the best families
 
 204: TOM TAD 
 
 took their graduation exercises being well lit up 
 and much crowded with gas light and floral de- 
 signs. Pa he had ordered up a spring wagon 
 load of flowers made up in ships and baskets and 
 all sorts with slithers of Marshall Kneel roses 
 and Smile axes and wire stems to be sent up to 
 the stage for a reward of merit to Han when she 
 got through. There is so much to say that I 
 cant tell which first nor fast enough but just as 
 it comes back to my mind, but anyhow sooner or 
 later Claude Rockingham also he sent a beaukay 
 too with his card tied on to Han with his com- 
 pliments. But there was roses and pinks whole 
 sail for all the ballance of the sweet girl gradu- 
 ates as Han calls herself and Claude said after- 
 wards he was disgusted because his beaukay was 
 small potatoes beside the magnificent display of 
 exoteric hot house vegitation some had. You 
 couldn't hardly tell which was flowers and which 
 was commencers for all them diplomatists and 
 specially the Gush girls Amy in particular was 
 dressed up mostly in bunches of roses and had so 
 much culer on her face that I said she was a piny 
 and made Charley Blogson bust out. 
 
 " Well Sir Frank the hall was full to stuffoca- 
 tion and the platform was so thick you couldn't 
 see the piano, well old Gadmeter he made the 
 first brake he steps out a smiling with his pro- 
 grammme in his hand and spoke about immortal 
 soles and how all these young ladies would now
 
 SWEET GIKL GRADUATES 205 
 
 orate their own orations composed entirely out 
 of their own heads and own hearts without any 
 help or aid or any touching up by nobody what- 
 ever that had any education. 
 
 " But I know that Sister Han's Peace had of 
 been submitted to Professor Snipson the litery 
 teacher for to look over and he marked it with 
 red ink so much that Han cried and Uncle Felix 
 and mother said Snipsie had clean took the sense 
 all out of Han's Peace. I thought so too. her 
 Peace was about Good English but he changed 
 the heading so as to read Appropriate Methods 
 of Employing the Vernacular in Written Ex- 
 pression. 
 
 "But I must drive on. As I said old Gad- 
 meter made a long obituary to begin to start the 
 commencement and after he had strung it out 
 about a mile I got tired and hollered time and 
 made Judge Bogus mad as a Mandril. 
 
 " Well then next came something else lets see, 
 yes our new minister prayed a splendid benedic- 
 tionary and then Hair Yon Slog came forward 
 dressed in a white shirt bosom and gloves and 
 rended a Nockturnal Fantazee in nine movements 
 by himself which made me that sleepy I purty 
 near tumbled off of the seat and Mrs. Bogus 
 looked round at me savage. 
 
 " then came two private pupils of Hair Yon 
 Slog fixed up awful fine with corsages and all 
 that and moved on to the piano works and exe-
 
 206 TOM TAD 
 
 cuted a duet for two with a flute obligation for 
 one mouth only by Claude Kockingham Doc 
 Blumases nephieu. In about a month the execu- 
 tioners quit but Doctor Blumas he kept hammer- 
 ing on the floor with his cane for an oncore 
 until old Gadmeter didnt know what to do and 
 pushed Al Blumas into the ring to orate, Al is 
 the only boy in the Grade and feels big but he is 
 a slimleg Nancy with soft mussel and runs after 
 Sadie Smithe. His theseus was on American 
 Institutions all about railroads telegraphs and 
 success in life, when he pulled up and sat down 
 Judge Bogus and his wife kept on clapping hands 
 like an idiot and Doc Blumas he just grinned for 
 he is Albert's daddy. 
 
 " Then came a solo for one voice by Miss Sadie 
 Smithe called Ah ! Oh ! I long to be longing, 
 with a good many thrills in it. "We boys 
 stamped for her oncore and she came out again 
 and sang Alas the days of Yore my love ! She 
 looked awful pretty ! ! 
 
 " I can't take time by the fetlock to tell you 
 near all but I will say right here Frank that 
 every one of the eight girls looked awful pretty 
 and Han if she is my own sister I will say can- 
 didly she was the best looking of the batch and 
 didnt wear half so much juels and lace as some 
 did but when she got up there so shy and scared 
 like and began to preach off her essay with her 
 music-box voice blamed if it didn't make me cry.
 
 20T 
 
 " You ought to heard Amy Gush elocute her 
 perduction. She takes lessons in vocal Deliver- 
 ance. Her peace was about ^Esthetic Culture 
 of the Kennaisance. I copied the name off the 
 Programmeme. Mrs Bogus says Amy's peace 
 was lovely but mother and me couldn't catch on 
 to it but Amy did look awful pretty I will 
 say so even if she hasn't got half sense. 
 
 " The valediction speech was the best of the 
 shooting match by a big blonde senior of 
 the brunet style of complexion. She looked 
 skrumptious next to Sister in my humble opin- 
 ion. Her whole name is Miss Blanchie Snyder 
 Everton Bopp and I hope she will change the 
 last part for a name that goes better with her 
 handsomeness and talens. It didn't seem to 
 match that a valedictory graduate with distinc- 
 tion should have so bunty a name as Bopp, But pa 
 says the Boppses and the Tadmores are bound to 
 rise up in this free country for they belong to 
 pedagreeable society. Miss Bopp's speach was 
 printed in the newspaper this morning, it ends 
 up nice but Han wont let me have it so 111 copy 
 the last part for you leavin out only a little 
 bit. 
 
 END OF Miss BOPP'S SPEACH. 
 
 " Friends, Schoolmates, Teachers, the time has 
 come for us to depart for far distant climbs, and
 
 208 TOM TAD 
 
 we meet, alas, once more, for the final separation 
 to say, farewell, fare thee well forever. Some 
 will go hence to the higher walks of duty, some 
 to the golden pearly links of wedlock, some will 
 continue to pursue and be pursued. But think 
 not, lovely Teachers, that we will ever, ever, ever 
 neglect the thorny rocks of the hill of Scince, 
 and the gentle meanderings of learning where 
 we have so long cemented ties. 
 
 " To you, dear classmates, I can only say fit 
 yourselves for the duties of life. Let us cling 
 together ! Let us persevere ! To us belong the 
 glamour and the glory. These classic halls of 
 Glen Forest shall no more echo to our frivolous 
 tread but yonder, yonder, on the slopes and 
 shoals of woman's higher sphere, are wreathes 
 more enduring than marble halls, and crowns 
 more purple than the evening twilight ! Be firm, 
 be true ! Falter not in your mission, but remem- 
 ber the words of the poet 
 
 There's no such word as fale."
 
 XXYII 
 
 LITERARY DIVERSIONS 
 
 DOCTOR ELDON enjoyed poetry. It was a 
 habit of his to while away summer afternoons, 
 seated, book in hand, with chair tilted back 
 against a small sassafras tree which grew upon 
 the lawn, in front of the Tadmore house. He 
 was seated thus, in post-prandial ease, on the day 
 following that of the commencement. So com- 
 pletely was he abstracted from " sense and out- 
 ward things," by the charm of what he read, 
 that he did not hear the importunate appeal of 
 the ambitious catbird, which, on a neighboring 
 maple, was performing all the parts of an ex- 
 quisite operetta, for Eldon's sole delight. 
 
 Tom came sauntering over the lawn trying to 
 fix a crooked arrow to the string of a home- 
 made hickory bow. 
 
 " Look out ! uncle, or I'll slay thee, villain, as 
 William Tell did Gesler. Put an apple on your 
 head, and play Albert. Le'me try if I can knock 
 that book out of your hand. Wish I had a gun 
 'stead of a bow 'n arrow." 
 
 " What would you do with a gun ? " 
 
 209
 
 210 TOM TAD 
 
 "Kill game and things, and fire salutes, and 
 drill. Fritz could teach me bay'net exercises 
 and light artillery. This is how the soldiers 
 do: Shoulder arms! Garry arms! Present 
 arms ! Order arms ! " 
 
 The boy, handling his bow as a gun, gave and 
 executed these military commands with an 
 energy surprising to his uncle and quite alarming 
 to his mother who, with her sewing, came out to 
 the veranda to see what was going on. Tom 
 gave her a military salute, then flung the bow 
 aside and, casting himself on the grass near his 
 uncle, lay sprawling, in order to " cool off." 
 
 " "What you reading, uncle ? " 
 
 " "Wordsworth's Poems. Shall I read aloud to 
 you?" 
 
 "Wordsworth? That's the Harry Gill feller, 
 isn't it ? There's a piece in the Rhetorical Guide 
 by him. I don't know only but one verse." 
 
 "You don't know only but one verse?" re- 
 peated Tom's mother. "That's a very faulty 
 sentence, my son." 
 
 " Yes, it's false syntax, for the pupil to avoid. 
 I said it a-purpose to see if you'd detect the 
 error. That verse I was a-going to tell you of, 
 we had to commit for Professor Ripantare. It's 
 good for the vocal organs of the pharnyx." 
 
 " Larynx." 
 
 " That's what I say. And to strengthen the 
 abominable muscles. The verse goes this way :
 
 LITEKARY DIVERSIONS 211 
 
 "'And fiercely by the arm he took her, 
 
 And by the arm he held her fast, 
 And fiercely by the arm he shook her, 
 And cried, "I've caught you then at last! " ' 
 
 That's nice po'try, mother ; isn't it, Uncle Felix ? 
 I like the rhymes ' tooker ' and ' shooker.' You 
 yellocute them in the oritund swell. Professor 
 Kipantare makes a splendid Harry Gill 'spe- 
 cially when his teeth chatter and when he jumps 
 out from behind a rick of barley to grab old 
 Goody and fiercely by the arm he shook her." 
 
 " There are better poems than * Goody Blake,' 
 in this volume," said the Doctor. " Shall I read 
 you one ? " 
 
 "'Spect there are, but ne'mind readin' 'em. 
 You can write better ones, can't you, uncle ? I 
 bet you can beat old Wordsworth with your left 
 hand tied behind you. Gee whiz ! / can make 
 po'try myself. S'posin' you and me yank out 
 some feet, pentameter or diameter or anything 
 you say ! You make up a selection about me 
 and I'll compose one about you. Mother will be 
 empire." 
 
 " Umpire, you mean." 
 
 " Yep ; mother will be umpire and ump which 
 piece is best." 
 
 " All right," laughed the good-natured Doctor. 
 " Bring on the literary tools." 
 
 Tom ran into the library and brought back pa- 
 per and pencils. Then with sober brow he essayed
 
 212 TOM TAD 
 
 his part in the competitive trial. Prone on the 
 sward in the shade of the spicy sassafras, he lay 
 many minutes, agonized with the throes of in- 
 vention, his toes digging the sod, his features 
 twisting, his eyes rolling, his entire body tense, 
 in sympathy with the prodigious labor of his 
 brain. Meanwhile Felix scribbled down a score 
 of jingling lines recalling in playful ridicule, a 
 recent mishap his nephew had suffered while 
 prosecuting experimentally his favorite study of 
 animate nature. Discouraged by the tardiness 
 of his own slow paced muse Tom presently called 
 out, 
 
 " How you getting on, uncle ? " 
 
 " I'm through," was the answer. " What luck 
 are you having ? Do the numbers flow ? Stand 
 and deliver what you've written so far." 
 
 Tom slowly got upon his feet, took a Henry 
 Clay attitude, made a comical grimace aside to 
 his mother, and read : 
 
 " Felix Eldon is my uncle, 
 And he doctored Squinty Eunkle, 
 And he swore at Peter Noggle, 
 Who does smoke a pipe, and sproggle." 
 
 " What's that last word, Tommy ? " said the 
 lad's mother. The uncle also had a curiosity 
 about the uncommon word. 
 
 " Sproggle," said Tom, " s-p-r-o-g-g-l-e." 
 
 " Sproggle ? I'm afraid that is a forced rhyme.
 
 LITERARY DIVERSIONS 213 
 
 What do you mean by ' sproggle ' ? Is it a noun 
 or a verb ? " 
 
 "Don't you catch on to the meaning of 
 sproggle ? You can tell the sense by the way I 
 use it. Sproggle is a transitory verb and it 
 means sort of gape and look poorly and make a 
 body tired. Pete smokes his pipe and that's all 
 he can do except sproggle." 
 
 " My child, how silly ! There's no such word 
 in the dictionary," protested Mrs. Tadmore. 
 
 " Well, what if there isn't ? Professor Snip- 
 son says a real poet makes up something out of 
 nary nothing and gives it a Habitation and a 
 name. He says that's just what makes Shake- 
 speare a big poetry gun. You don't like the 
 sarcasm in my piece, uncle, and that's what 
 pinches you. Let's hear yours about me." 
 
 Dr. Eldon gravely intoned the following 
 lines : 
 
 THE BOY AND THE BUMBLE BEE. 
 
 Mesaw a humble Bumble Bee 
 Enfeasting in a pumpkin flower; 
 
 Methought that me would look and see 
 
 The busy way that he, that he 
 Improves each shining hour. 
 
 Meshut him in the pumpkin bloom, 
 Meheard him sizz and bizz within, 
 
 Mesaid, "O Bumble Bee, thy doom 
 
 It is to bizz and sizz and boom, 
 And glad me with thy din.''
 
 214 TOM TAD 
 
 Meheld him to my happy ear, 
 
 Mesang, " His cage is yellow gold; " 
 
 Meloved his bothered buzz to hear; 
 
 Mequoth "Sweet insect, do not fear, 
 But bumble loud and bold." 
 
 Eftsoons me heard a sudden wail, 
 
 Meheard myself to howl! 
 Clean through that pumpkin blossom pale, 
 Mefelt him stick his fiery tail, 
 
 Mefelt him sting my jowl. 
 
 " Good for you, uncle ! " cried Tom. " That 
 knocks mine all hollow! I never could write 
 po'try. There don't seem to be a grea' deal of 
 sense in po'try anyway. Wish I could write a 
 true fiction foundered on facts, like David 
 Copperfield and Huck Finn. How do authors 
 make up real facts out of nothing ? " 
 
 "They don't exactly make them up out of 
 nothing. They put their lives into their books. 
 They tell what they really know." 
 
 " Gee whiz ! Uncle, I know lots and gobs. But 
 I can't compose worth a cent. How do you go 
 to work to put your life in a book ? I'm just full 
 of ideas, but " 
 
 " Write them down," advised Dr. Eldon, " just 
 as they rise in your mind. State facts exactly 
 as they happen. Use the plainest words and tell 
 your story clearly so that no one can fail to get 
 your true meaning." 
 
 " But I don't hardly know what to write on," 
 said Tom.
 
 LITEKAKY DIVERSIONS 215 
 
 " Write on paper." 
 
 " That's not a good joke. You understand me 
 well enough. I mean I can't think up a good 
 wonderful story that is a real fact. Mother, 
 Uncle Felix says I ought to aim high and be a 
 great author like Ibid. "Would you like me to 
 be a bully scholar, or a general or what ? I can't 
 choose." 
 
 " I wish you to lead your class in all your 
 studies." 
 
 "Professor Ripantare says I'm the best de- 
 claimer in the whole school, and he always wants 
 me to speak * Rienzi ' at the exhibitions. But I 
 think 'Spartacus* is a better. piece, don't you? 
 I like to let out my voice on that part where it 
 says, * That very night the Romans landed on 
 our coast. I saw the breast that had nourished 
 me trampled by the hoof of the war horse, the 
 bleeding body of my father flung amidst the 
 blazing rafters of our dwelling.' ' : Tom assumed 
 a tragic attitude to recite these harrowing sen- 
 tences. He gesticulated and contorted his face 
 in a manner truly terrific. 
 
 " I don't understand why you should want to 
 speak such shocking words, my son. Why don't 
 you select a prettier piece ? " 
 
 " Mother, you don't get into the soul of these 
 grand savage speeches : I reckon it is because you 
 are a woman. You ought to hear Professor 
 Ripantare throw himself into ' Spartacus,' when
 
 216 TOM TAD 
 
 he says * If ye are beasts, then stand there like 
 fat oxen waiting for the butcher's knife ! If ye 
 are men, follow me ! ' Why, I don't believe we 
 could hear thunder while he was saying, * follow 
 me ! ' Charley Blogson was sitting on the win- 
 dow-sill and when Professor Kipantare yelled 
 'follow me!' he lunged at Charley and scared 
 him so he tumbled off of the window and said 
 * Shot up ! ' and the whole audience laughed. It 
 takes a mightly eloquent man to make it seem so 
 real to the boys as that ! " 
 
 "Are the Professor's favorite recitations 
 usually so violent ? Has he no selections of the 
 quiet kind ? " 
 
 " Nothing but ' Bingen on the Khine ' ; that's 
 tolerable quiet, 'specially where the dying 
 soldier lays dead. There's a dandy quiet speech 
 in ' Spartacus ' that always makes me solemn and 
 think of past ages of happiness and all that, 
 when I was a child." 
 
 " You are not so very old yet, are you ? Not 
 too old to learn. I am glad you are doing nicely 
 in elocution. How do you rank in your composi- 
 tion work ? " 
 
 "That's just what bothers me, mother. I 
 usen't to get the hang of composing. But Uncle 
 Felix gave me a private lecture and I believe 
 I've caught onto it at last. Hello! here they 
 come ! " 
 
 This exclamation announced the neisy approach
 
 LITERARY DIVERSIONS 217 
 
 of a covey of boys and girls unexpected except 
 by Tom who hastily informed his mother that he 
 had invited the children to come up that after- 
 noon to play Scoomfoozle.
 
 XXVIII 
 
 SOOOMFOOZLE 
 
 " Scoomy ! Scoomy ! Scoomy ! " shouted the 
 juvenile invaders as they advanced swarming 
 over the lawn and surrounded the sassafras tree. 
 
 "Uncle Felix, they mean you; you're to be 
 Scoomfoozle ; better hustle right away and fix 
 yourself up ! " A chime of girls' tongues 
 pleaded, " Please, Doctor Eldon," and a peal of 
 boys' voices sang out, " Oh, come on ! " 
 
 " You have to, uncle, for I gave my word and 
 honor you would." 
 
 " May I not respectfully decline ? " 
 
 " Naw 1 " grumbled the boys, relentless as a 
 council of savages condemning a prisoner to the 
 stake. 
 
 " No-sir-ee-bob ! " added the imperative nephew. 
 "You shan't decline respectfully or unrespect- 
 fully. You need the exercise and the fun, same 
 as we do." 
 
 " Wait then till I put my book away ; I'll be 
 back in a minute." 
 
 At these words the little women danced for 
 glee and the small men fell to pommeling one 
 another in sheer delight. The amiable promoter 
 
 218
 
 SCOOMFOOZLE 219 
 
 of their childish pleasures, stepped into the 
 library, where he metamorphosed himself by 
 putting on an old dressing-gown and a hideous 
 yellow mask. Then going out by a back door 
 he stole unobserved toward the heedless children, 
 and lay awhile in ambush behind a sweet-scented 
 shrub. 
 
 Meanwhile Tom disclosed to Melissa Brown 
 the mystery and the meaning of the game in 
 which she was to participate for the first time. 
 
 "The Scoomfoozle is a Scoomfoozle he is 
 something like the Blackman, but horribler. It 
 isn't a person nor an ogre nor a ghost it's a 
 wild Scoomfoozle who makes you feel squirmy 
 when it looks your way and makes you wither 
 up and turn green outside and inside, if he 
 touches you ! " 
 
 " How do you know inside ? " queried Melissa. 
 
 "How do you know your soul? You can't 
 see it. The Scoomf oozle's finger turns you green 
 as scum on a frog pon' : you don't show green 
 that's the magic but you realize the minute 
 he touches you, you are wrinkly and green 
 through and through. Maybe when he catches 
 you he'll chaw you up and swaller you or play 
 the bandola on you " 
 
 " I guess I'll only look on and see the others 
 play." 
 
 " No, no ; everybody must join in. You will 
 like the risk there's lots of fun in being scared
 
 220 TOM TAD 
 
 if you can only bear the suspense and not get 
 rattled. Scoomy isn't a fact, no more than 
 Santa Glaus. But sometimes I 'magine it is a 
 real bonyfied Scoomfoozle and I just die ! Say ; 
 stop your cuttin' up and all go a good piece 
 away from the porch. This porch is home and, 
 when the Scoomfoozle comes towards you, you 
 try to get home without him grabbing you. 
 Why don't uncle get a move on him ? He said 
 he'd be back right away." 
 
 Melissa, catching sight of a hideous face peer- 
 ing from behind the shrub, screeched the dis- 
 covery to her huddled playmates who sent up 
 one choral cry of crazy joy and lapsed into dead 
 silence. The uncouth shape, the grotesque 
 motions, the threatful mumblings of the goblin 
 from the bushes, filled every breast with that 
 " pleasing pain " which mock danger inspires. 
 All yielded to the hypnotism of make-believe, 
 and courted the ecstasy of feigned terror. 
 
 Toward his prey advanced the Scoomfoozle; 
 it pawed the turf, it lurched, it snorted, it 
 quivered, it stood stock still in strange slumber. 
 
 " Let's run home ! " gasped Melissa. 
 
 " No ! " whispered Tom ; " not yet ! Watch 
 him ! He sleeps when he's awake and he's 
 awake when he sleeps. Watch out for him ! " 
 
 Truly the manoeuvres of " Scoomy " surpassed 
 all expectation. No one could foretell at what 
 moment the wily Thing might fall into a fit of
 
 SCOOMFOOZLE 221 
 
 blind rage, or spring nimbly into the air, or 
 prance like a kangaroo, or howl like a gorilla, or 
 make an impossible rush in several directions at 
 once. Perhaps, while wriggling its baleful 
 fingers towards one of the boys, it would dart 
 sideways or backwards and fly at a girl before 
 she had time even to turn green or to expire. 
 
 The explosive jargon of the boys, the volleyed 
 screams of the misses, the nondescript noises 
 made by Scoomfoozle, aroused Miss Hannah 
 Tad more from an afternoon nap and brought 
 her to the piazza to learn what caused the com- 
 motion. 
 
 She greeted the children with nods of personal 
 recognition and with welcoming smiles. 
 
 " Come and play, sister." 
 
 " I'm too old, Tom." 
 
 "That comes of your graduating. But you 
 are not older than uncle, I mean Scoomy. 
 Play in' '11 make you young again, like Ponthe de 
 Leon." Tom clapped to his lips a broad leaf and 
 made it pop by suction. " We're a-waiting for 
 you," he said, and turned a cart-wheel. 
 
 Hannah yielded to the importunity of her 
 brother, though reluctant to engage in violent 
 exercise. The exacting tasks of school had 
 broken her health, and the extra strain of com- 
 mencement night had entailed a series of nervous 
 headaches. However she went into the sport 
 with cheerful looks.
 
 222 TOM TAD 
 
 The dramatic glamour again enveloped the 
 scene and clothed the Scoomfoozle with his 
 wonted terrors. Now one, now another reckless 
 lad, fell a victim to It and each captive shrank 
 into a green manikin, and supplied living food to 
 the yellow-jawed monster. Once, Melissa Brown 
 was sure she should be caught, but Tom, hazard- 
 ing his life and his natural color, had the desper- 
 ate courage to save her by plucking at Scoomy's 
 gabardine. 
 
 Suddenly, to the consternation of girls and 
 boys, their common enemy, venting a ferocious 
 whoop, dashed through their midst, straight 
 towards Hannah. She saw him coming, screamed, 
 fled like a hunted fawn, flew like a frightened 
 dove. The boys encouraged her by wild cheers. 
 The girls stood speechless with bated breath, in 
 palpitating sympathy. Mrs. Tadmore dropped 
 her sewing and hastened to the middle of the 
 lawn, to note the progress and the result of the 
 chase. 
 
 Never before had the Scoomfoozle produced 
 such a sensation among the small folks. Maybe, 
 after all, he was not Uncle Felix ! There might be 
 a Scoomfoozle ! There might be anything ! Tom 
 remembered reading in the mythology how Pan 
 sometimes makes his appearance among the fright- 
 ened shepherds. 
 
 In and out among shade trees, around flower 
 beds, through tangles of low shrubbery, flitted
 
 SCOOMFOOZLE 223 
 
 the white-robed fugitive, pursued by the grisly 
 shape with the yellow, grinning face. Is he 
 gaining ground ? Will her strength hold out ? 
 Can she escape untouched ? She skims over the 
 greensward, she flutters past the rose hedge and 
 the white-fringe tree, she is nearing the sassa- 
 fras, she will soon reach home ! Yes ! No ! 
 a panic dismay seizes the girl she sinks upon 
 the grass, faint and dizzy. The Scoomfoozle had 
 her in his power. He was bending over to claim 
 his own, when, raising her right hand, two fingers 
 of which made the sign of the cross, she stayed 
 him with the words : 
 
 "King's Ex!" 
 
 " King's Ex ! " echoed the boys and girls, in 
 quick chorus. 
 
 " You can't catch her now, Uncle Felix ! " in- 
 terposed Tom with earnestness approaching to 
 solemnity; "'King's Ex' means King's Excuse 
 she is excused by the king, and nobody darst 
 touch her, darst they, Han ? " 
 
 " No ! " gasped Hannah, recovering her breath, 
 " you can't catch me now 1 "
 
 XXIX 
 BARCLAY'S GUN 
 
 BARCLAY SNOOKS, carrying his "shooting 
 iron," and accompanied by Seneca, made an ex- 
 ploration to ascertain the condition of the cherry 
 crop, and to test the quality of the strawberries 
 in the neighborhood of Forest Glen. The boy 
 pilferers knew the situation of every orchard for 
 miles around, and took note of the ripening of all 
 delicious fruits. Perhaps they were not so grate- 
 ful as they should have been for the privilege of 
 enjoying the results of the labor and pains of 
 those who cultivated trees and planted vineyards 
 and berry patches. Instead of showing thank- 
 fulness for the bounties of agriculture, these 
 scorners of honest toil complained bitterly of the 
 meanness and stinginess of the farmers who ob- 
 jected to their stealing, or who took measures to 
 prevent trespass. 
 
 " Sineca, git yer basket, and you kin go along 
 with me 'n scoop some of them chirries we seed 
 at Bopp's. Them sweet chirries is almost too 
 ripe already. Bopp is a-goin' away to Cincinnati 
 to-day, and the ole woman ain't able to be 
 
 up." 
 
 224
 
 BARCLAY'S GUN 225 
 
 " Let's don't go there, Barclay, they've got a 
 bulldog. Let's go to Hine's new strawberry 
 patch jist above the holler. I bet I kin sneak 
 out and pick a quart of berries before anybody 
 sees me, and not git caught. You know Hine 
 has a wooden leg and can't run worth a cent." 
 
 "I don't keer a durn for strawberries this 
 morning, Sineca. I've had strawberries and 
 strawberries till I'm sick of 'em. But I've got 
 a bigness for amber chirries, and amber chirries 
 we'll git or bust. Who keers for bulldogs? 
 Hain't I got this here gun ? You kin jist slide 
 over the fence and climb the tree while I stand 
 guard, and if ary bulldog shows hisself, I'll give 
 him a dose of cold lead. So come along, and 
 hurry up." 
 
 "Le'me stand guard oncet, and you try the 
 climbin'. You allus make me run the resk, Bar- 
 clay. You promised to stand guard that time 
 we went over to Squire Hoyle's orchard. "Why 
 didn't you come and help us out of that scrape ? " 
 
 " I hadn't no gun, you know ; I did help you 
 out. If I hadn't walloped old Hoyle, you would 
 have been snatched up and put in jail. While I 
 was a-chokin' him you saved your skin and run 
 away." 
 
 " Did you wallop Squire Hoyle, Barclay ? The 
 boys all said he pounded you with a club." 
 
 " Who tole you that ? Jist show me the feller 
 that tole you that ! " Here Barclay gritted his
 
 226 TOM TAD 
 
 teeth and glared at his brother with a ferocity 
 altogether too terrible to describe. Seneca bal- 
 anced the basket upon his head, and led the way 
 towards the premises of Mr. Bopp. An artist on 
 the lookout for a picturesque subject to paint 
 could not have wished for anything better than 
 that moving group of two Barclay with his 
 gun, and Seneca with the basket poised on his 
 head. The pair shambled along the by-road that 
 led to the Bopp domain. Then they slackened 
 their pace and looked carefully around them in 
 all directions. The farmer's cottage, surrounded 
 by evergreens, was within a stone's throw of the 
 cherry trees. But nobody seemed to be at home, 
 and there were no signs of the dog. 
 
 " Now is yer chance, Sineca ; be quick and I'll 
 whistle if I see any danger." 
 
 Seneca stooped low and glided on, keeping a 
 fence between himself and the cottage until he 
 came near the tree. Then he straightened him- 
 self up boldly ; but the moment his eyes glanced 
 upward he beheld an object the sight of which 
 weakened his knees. He turned and fled to the 
 presence of his noble kinsman and protector. 
 " There's a man ! a man up the tree ! " 
 
 " Is that so ? " exclaimed he of the gun. " Are 
 you sure? Squat down here in the grass and 
 we'll watch him." 
 
 Fully half an hour did they lie in ambush, 
 without seeing any semblance of a man ; nor did
 
 BARCLAY WITH MIS C.fN, AN'I) SKNF.CA WITH THK BASKET.
 
 BAKCLAY'S GUN 227 
 
 they hear any sound or observe the least motion 
 in the branches of the tree. Barclay began to 
 ridicule and abuse Seneca for his groundless 
 terror. 
 
 " There ain't no man there 1 You're a white- 
 liver, and that's w'at's the matter with you. 
 You're a low-born coward, Sineca." 
 
 "I'm no lower born than you are. If you 
 think your liver is redder than mine, go yourself 
 and see if there ain't a man up the tree. I dare 
 you to." 
 
 " I won't take no dare," retorted Barclay, 
 blustering. " I'll walk bold right along the mid- 
 dle of the road, you'll see, and if there is a man, 
 who keers ? I'm not afeard of no man livin'." 
 
 Kising from his nest in the grass, with these 
 words on his lips, Barclay happened to glance to- 
 wards the cottage, and to his consternation he 
 beheld Miss Blanchie Bopp in the door-yard, 
 calmly watching his motions. Both he and 
 Seneca started off at a gait more rapid than was 
 usual with them. As they hurried past the 
 cherry-tree and stole a side look at the amber 
 sweets on which they had set their hearts' and 
 stomachs' desire, they caught a startling view of 
 a fantastic figure a scarecrow, flapping empty 
 coat-sleeves in the wind. 
 
 An attempt to snatch a free lunch from Mr. 
 Hine's strawberry garden also failed. Not only 
 was there a barbed wire fence around the enclo-
 
 228 TOM TAD 
 
 sure ; the owner himself happened to be picking 
 berries. 
 
 Barclay fared onward in the pessimistic mood 
 of a noble nature which feels the world's in- 
 justice, his small eyes roving over the landscape, 
 when 
 
 " by the way he chanced to espy 
 
 One sitting idle on a sunny bank." 
 
 The solitary figure was that of Cuff Chuck, who 
 had been amusing his leisure by playing mum- 
 blety-peg, all alone. Seeing the Snooks boys 
 draw near, Cuff thrust into his pocket the jack- 
 knife with which he had been driving the peg. 
 Barclay observed the hasty motion and craftily 
 foresaw an opportunity to profit by a mode of 
 traffic always in vogue among boys of his stripe. 
 
 " Hi, Cuff ; wot's up ? Hain't you lost ? Got 
 anything to trade ? Marvles or slings ? How'd 
 ye like to swap knives, sight unseen ? " 
 
 The negro boy was offish and reticent. 
 
 "You allus cheat," he blurted out. 
 
 " How the thunder kin a man cheat when he 
 swaps knives sight unseen ? I'm not a-hankering 
 to make myself equals with tar and wool. I 
 only took a notion to treat you white, and you 
 suspicion me." 
 
 Barclay's resentment produced the effect he 
 desired. Cuff slowly drew from his pocket the 
 old jack-knife, concealed within the grasp of his
 
 BARCLAY'S GUN 229 
 
 large fist. The elder Snooks, in like manner, 
 held out a hand tightly closed around a piece of 
 cutlery lacking two rivets and one bone side- 
 piece, and having a very feeble back-spring and 
 a single pot-metal blade. 
 
 " Now, Sineca, take his knife in yer right hand 
 and mine in yer left, and change 'em over fair 
 and square." 
 
 Seneca, with a gravity which did honor to the 
 memory of the stoic whose name he wore, com- 
 plied with his brother's orders. With a trium- 
 phant roll of his white eyeballs, Cuff received 
 the broken-handled treasure, which, worthless as 
 it looked, was of more value than that which 
 Barclay got in exchange a knife with only half 
 a blade. 
 
 Barclay's dignity was outraged. 
 
 " Light out of here, you black thief, or I'll put 
 a load of slugs in you. Git ! " 
 
 Cuff ran away, yawping derisively, pursued by 
 Seneca's blackguard shouts of 
 
 " Nigger ! nigger ! pull the trigger ! 
 Cock the gun and shoot the nigger ! " 
 
 Fate seemed adverse to Barclay and his 
 brother. They extended their excursion to the 
 river ; thence climbed the hills to the Big Woods, 
 and finally sauntered to the borders of the Tad- 
 more estate. Sitting down to rest under the 
 shadow of a great oak, the Emperor, Barclay re-
 
 230 TOM TAD 
 
 membered a speculation he had long desired to 
 consummate at the expense of Thomas Tadmore, 
 junior. This was of no less magnitude than the 
 sale of the famous shooting-iron. Knowing that 
 Tom was eager to possess the historic weapon, 
 Barclay hoped to induce the boy to buy it for an 
 amount of cash some twenty times its true value. 
 
 " Sineca," commanded the elder brother, using 
 the time-honored prerogative of the first-born son, 
 " Scud over to Tadmore's and tell Tom I want 
 him. Tell him I'll sell my gun as cheap as dirt." 
 
 " "What'r you goin' to take for it ? " 
 
 Barclay grinned and winked. " You jist play 
 into my hands, Sineca, and we kin cheat him out 
 of his eyes. The gun ain't wuth shucks. I 
 never hit nothin' with it in my life, except by 
 accident. It ain't wuth old iron." 
 
 " I knowed it wasn't," said Seneca, gleefully. 
 " But I'll stuff Tom and make him b'lieve it's the 
 best gun in the world." 
 
 "Yes, stuff him; and, mind you, don't go 
 back on anything I say. Help me bamboozle 
 him, and I'll give you an even quarter of it." 
 
 " A quarter, Barclay, will you ? " 
 
 " I swow I will ; now skedaddle." 
 
 Seneca's feet took wings on which he flew to 
 seek Tom. That ingenuous youth was catching 
 beetles in the meadow. Seneca shouted 
 " Hello ! " Tom returned the same salute. The 
 boys went towards each other and met to parley.
 
 BAKCLAY'S GUN 231 
 
 Seneca explained the nature of his mission, and 
 the two trudged away to the woods, and found 
 Barclay still seated under the oak, a king beside 
 an Emperor. 
 
 " How are you, Tad more ? " asked the king, 
 condescendingly. 
 
 " I'm all right. Seneca says you want to sell 
 your gun." 
 
 " Did you say that, Sineca ? I don't want to 
 sell it. I'd ruther buy a gun or two than sell ary 
 gun I've got." 
 
 " Have you got more than one ? I never saw 
 you carry any but this." 
 
 "I generally carry this, fer I'm attached to 
 this gun. I know I use this gun too much fer 
 its own good. A gun ort to rest, like a hoss. 
 I'd ruther not sell any of my guns, but as I said 
 to Sineca, says I, ' Ef Tom Tadmore wants that 
 gun, he shall have it dirt cheap.' Didn't I tell 
 you that, Sineca ? " 
 
 " Yes ; you said seein' it was him, you would 
 let it go as cheap as old iron." 
 
 " Ef I said that, I won't go back on my word. 
 But I do hate to part with gran'daddy's shoot- 
 ing-iron. It's been in the family so long. It's 
 sich a good reliable family gun, too. Jist the 
 thing fer a boy. Why, a child kin handle that 
 gun and bring down whatever he aims at. 
 Look'e here, now. Do you see that there leaf 
 on that buckeye tree ? "
 
 232 TOM TAD 
 
 Tom saw a good many leaves on the tree, but 
 he was not sure whether he saw just that partic- 
 ular leaf which Barclay sighted, or not. Barclay 
 did not wait for a definite answer but, raising the 
 gun and cocking it, he pointed towards the thick 
 foliage and fired. A heavy charge of shot went 
 rattling among the greenery, and a shower of 
 leaves came floating to the earth. 
 
 " There ! Do you see that ? Here's the leaf 
 I aimed at." And he picked up an oak leaf. 
 Seneca saw the mistake, and without Tom's no- 
 ticing the mancsuvre, he thrust a buckeye leaf 
 into his brother's hand. Tom was so anxious 
 to possess any sort of gun, that he was not 
 critical. All that troubled him was the price. 
 He was mightily pleased with the noise that 
 Barclay's gun made and the smoke. 
 
 "What's the lowest you will take for it?" 
 was his eager question. Barclay exchanged sly 
 winks with Seneca. 
 
 " What would you say, Sineca ? " 
 
 " If it was mine," said Seneca, meditating as 
 large a sum as his imagination could easily con- 
 ceive, " if it was mine I wouldn't let it go for less 
 than twelve dollars." 
 
 Tom's countenance fell. Barclay gave a long 
 whistle. " You put it mighty cheap, Sineca, but 
 I am willin' to jist give it away to sich a friend 
 as Mr. Tadmore." 
 
 "We ain't very good friends," said Tom.
 
 BARCLAY'S GUN 233 
 
 " You used to treat me real mean. Don't you 
 know you tried to shoot me ? But since we had 
 that fight last Fourth of July, you've behaved 
 pretty decent." 
 
 This speech took Barclay aback. He was los- 
 ing ground, and made haste to recover his ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 " Do you know I've allus liked you sence that 
 day. You're no coward, Tadmore. You jumped 
 onto me like a gentleman. You've got good 
 blood. I know I'm none of your equals, but 
 Barclay Snooks is your friend in his fur down 
 way, and if you ever have any fightin' to do 
 that's beneath you he'll do it fer you, and be 
 proud to do it. Have a cigar ? " 
 
 " No, I thank you. I don't smoke." 
 
 " Well, you'll learn. Stick that in your vest- 
 pocket and smoke it when you feel like it. 
 That's a good cigar." 
 
 Tom hesitatingly received the proffered gift 
 and put it into his vest pocket. 
 
 "That's a good cigar, sir. None better is 
 made or sold. I allus use that cigar fer my own 
 smokin'. It's a 'Cuban Beauty.' They come 
 high, but a man must have fust class tobaccer. 
 Come on, Sineca, hadn't we better be startin' 
 back?" 
 
 " You didn't say how much you would take 
 for the gun ? " said Tom, betraying anxiety. 
 
 "I told you I was willin' to sell it fer next
 
 234 TOM TAD 
 
 to nothing. "What do you say to eight dol- 
 lars?" 
 
 " I'm afraid I can't raise that much. But I'll 
 tell you what I'll do. I'll give you six dollars, 
 cash down, if you will come round by our house 
 and get the money and leave the gun." 
 
 Barclay, with affected reluctance, agreed to 
 this, and the contracting parties went towards 
 Tom's house. The Snooks boys stopped out on 
 the lawn, while their deluded victim ran to his 
 room, and, emptying a toy safe, brought his 
 hoard of coin in dollars, halves, dimes, nickels 
 and cents. The entire sum amounted to five 
 dollars and fifty-one cents. 
 
 " You owe me forty-nine cents," said Barclay, 
 putting the cash into his pocket and handing the 
 gun to Tom. 
 
 "I'll pay the balance as soon as I get the 
 money," said Tom, joyfully. " Good-bye." 
 
 " Then the gun will be your'n," replied Bar- 
 clay. 
 
 ""We skinned him, didn't we?" whispered 
 Seneca, snickering. " Let's git into the woods 
 where we kin laugh." 
 
 " I thought I could take him in," was the re- 
 mark of the dignified elder brother, walking 
 away and rattling his wealth in his pocket. 
 
 " Now give me the dollar and a half you prom- 
 ised me." 
 
 " I didn't promise you no dollar and a half."
 
 BAKCLAY'S GUN 235 
 
 " You said if I helped you you would give me 
 a quarter of what you got." 
 
 " I meant a quarter of a dollar, you idiot, not 
 a quarter of the whole pile. He owes me forty- 
 nine cents, and when you collect that I'll give 
 you yer quarter. But don't git sassy, bub, or 
 you shan't have a durn cent."
 
 XXX 
 
 THE CAEOL OF A MEADOW LAEK 
 
 MAN seems to be by nature a shooting animal. 
 Tom, having become the reckless possessor of a 
 shot-gun, reverted to the savage state. Bang ! 
 Bang! Bang! He fired not only at rabbits, 
 squirrels, quails and all other small game which 
 cruel custom sacrifices to the wanton pleasure of 
 the sportsman ; he blazed away at fishes in the 
 brook, innocent hop-toads, and even butterflies 
 and "snake-feeders." Seldom indeed did his 
 practice result in serious injury to the objects 
 shot at. Whether his failure to hit the mark 
 was owing to inaccuracy of aim, or to the per- 
 verseness of the gun, he never knew. 
 
 The young Mmrod noticed with perplexity 
 that the unerring fire-arm, though discharged 
 with every precaution, produced effects contrary 
 to his intention and quite inexplicable by any 
 rule of sportsmanship. Once, when he fired at a 
 red squirrel not ten feet from the muzzle of his 
 gun, Tom was astonished that bun ran up the tree 
 chattering and barking in a manner unmistakably 
 derisive, while Squire Hoyle's white cow received 
 a shower of leaden rain in her surprised side. 
 
 236
 
 THE CAROL OF A MEADOW LARK 237 
 
 Not unfrequently the capricious piece went off 
 before the trigger was drawn; and it had an 
 exasperating habit of snapping the cap without 
 going off, when prompt action was essential. 
 The moral character of the gun was very bad 
 from long association with Barclay Snooks. 
 Tom couldn't trust to its veracity in the least. 
 
 One day, a few weeks after Tom made his pur- 
 chase, he started out very early in the morning 
 to hunt in the Big Woods. He had been told 
 that the best time to find squirrels is at early 
 dawn, when they are seeking their breakfast, and 
 while yet the leaves and grass remain moist with 
 the vapors of night. Tom set the alarm clock 
 of his will to arouse him at four, and he was up 
 on time. Taking his precious gun (which he had 
 named Snooksie) and a supply of powder and 
 shot, he started out. The woods were very still 
 and solemn, and the cool, sweet air of the June 
 morning was delightful to breathe. Tom looked 
 up at the majestic oaks, maples, elms, walnuts 
 and beeches, which, like the huge columns of a 
 Gothic temple, rose on every side and seemed to 
 lift the sky upon arches of leafy boughs. For 
 the first time in his life he was conscious of a 
 sense of awe in the presence of those trees. 
 They appeared to him intelligent things sub- 
 lime, dumb creatures with wise, great thoughts 
 and virtues. Their lofty dignity and calm 
 strength impressed him strangely. Many a little
 
 238 TOM TAD 
 
 bird flitted through the green solitude, and the 
 bushes hid from, sight many another that twit- 
 tered or sang, but no game-bird was visible, and 
 no game beast, however small. Tom's eyes, 
 searching the branches of a lightning-stricken, 
 top-broken linn, caught sight of something that 
 was not agreeable to look at. A monstrous 
 black-snake, with tail coiled around a dead limb, 
 was swinging in the air, like a prodigious ani- 
 mated cork-screw, in irregular motion. 
 
 "What if that black-snake had dropped on 
 me?" mused the hunter, peering around him 
 with an uncomfortable suspicion that the trees 
 were all harboring snakes just ready to fall. He 
 immediately resolved to dispatch the reptile by 
 renting upon it the contents of "Snooksie." 
 Raising the death-dealing engine to his shoulder, 
 he "took sight" at the dangling black-snake. 
 He pulled the trigger, and " Snooksie " responded 
 with thunder and the usual scatterment of am- 
 munition. When the smoke cleared away, no 
 snake was to be seen, either on the tree, or on 
 the earth beneath, or in the heavens above. The 
 subtle beast had vanished utterly. 
 
 Pondering on this extraordinary incident, Tom 
 reloaded "Snooksie" and trudged forward, on 
 slaughter bent. But luck was against him. 
 After wandering for nearly two hours in the 
 woods, he began to feel hungry, and concluded to 
 return home. By climbing over a rail fence he
 
 THE CAKOL OF A MEADOW LAKE 239 
 
 came into a meadow belonging to Squire Hoyle, 
 through which he could take a well-known and 
 favorite " short cut " to his father's farm. His 
 spirits rose as he mounted the fence and surveyed 
 the fresh beauty of the open field, which was 
 much more cheerful than the shadowy forest, to 
 the darkness of which the mysterious black-snake 
 had added a hue of terror. Facing the morning 
 sunshine, Tom jumped from the fence to the 
 ground and began to whistle. With his gun 
 upon his shoulder, shot-pouch and powder-flask 
 hanging at his side, he started briskly to cross 
 the field. Through blue grass and blooming 
 clover, still sparkling with wasting diamonds of 
 sunlit dew, the lad went whistling on his way. 
 A delicious fragrance was shed from the 
 honeyed blossoms of the field, which the wild 
 bees were already robbing. The sky was deep 
 blue and without a cloud. 
 
 After blowing a few merry notes from his 
 puckered lips, Tom paused to take breath, and 
 just at that instant the melodious music of a 
 joyous bird came fluting to his ear ; and gazing 
 in the direction from which the sound proceeded, 
 Tom beheld a lark poised on the topmost branch 
 of a small sugar-tree that stood in the midst of 
 the meadow. Tom hurriedly cocked his gun, 
 and moved with stealthy paces towards the tree, 
 keeping his eye upon the unsuspicious songster. 
 One might fancy that the happy vocalist of the
 
 240 TOM TAD 
 
 treetop was melting his tremulous heart in morn- 
 ing praise and thanksgiving to the spirit of love 
 and beauty. The ecstasy of the matin solo was 
 not restrained when the crouching biped with 
 the gun approached to within twenty feet of the 
 tree, and raised the murderous tube to his 
 shoulder. The bird seemed to notice Tom with 
 friendly regard, and redoubled its ravishing 
 efforts. Ebw the tiny singer stretched its grate- 
 ful head towards the blue sky and warbled to 
 God ; anon, it peeped down to the green earth 
 and caroled to Tom. The boy hears with his 
 ear faintly hears with his heart. A feeble com- 
 punction whispers "forbear," but the hunter's 
 instinct, the hereditary barbarism surviving in 
 his blood from ancient ancestors, prevails over 
 the still small voice of gentleness within his 
 breast. Bang ! A puff of blue smoke, a whiff 
 of viewless shot the song is silenced forever. 
 The stricken lark dropped fluttering through the 
 leaves, and fell at the sportsman's feet on the 
 pitying grass. Tom threw down his gun, and 
 stooped to pick up his game. As he reached 
 towards it, the poor thing quivered with new 
 terror and strove to fly as from a betraying foe 
 recognized too late. But it could not rise from 
 the grass. Tom held the dying creature tenderly 
 in his hand tenderly in that hand which had 
 pulled the fatal trigger. How hot were the 
 drops of bright red blood that fell like seals of
 
 THE CAROL OF A MEADOW LARK 241 
 
 condemnation upon his naked feet. The little 
 heart still beat the slayer felt it pounding upon 
 his conscience. Once the bird uttered a faint, 
 sad chirping, as if to say : " Let me go, and I 
 will sing, if I can." Then the wings relaxed, 
 the blood-stained victim trembled, gasped and 
 died. Tom stood for a long time watching the 
 lifeless lark as it lay in his hand. Selfishly, 
 wantonly, cruelly, he had blown to destruction, 
 song-bird and song, sacred life matchless 
 music. Yes, he had shot the winged minstrel 
 while it was in the very act of trying to delight 
 him with its most enchanting note. The All- 
 seeing Eye had witnessed the unforgivable deed. 
 Not a sparrow falls to the ground uncared for 
 by Him who made all things. How could Tom 
 make peace with his own accusing conscience? 
 Tears filled his eyes. Through those blessed 
 drops of childish remorse, he tried to look to 
 heaven for comfort ; but the sky wore a frown, 
 and the air whispered " for shame ! " and the 
 wild bees humming over the clover heads seemed 
 buzzing to one another their condemnation and 
 abhorrence. While Tom was suffering these 
 pangs of soul, the insensate gun which lay near 
 him was hateful to his eyes. He was so un- 
 reasonable as to hold the death-dealing instru- 
 ment accountable for the evil he had wrought 
 with it. For a moment he felt moved to break 
 the odious thing in pieces. But reflecting that
 
 24:2 TOM TAD 
 
 " Snooksie " was not to blame, he picked up that 
 unreliable servant, and, walking onward in a pen- 
 sive mood, crossed the meadow, and, following a 
 foot-path through his father's sugar-camp, was 
 soon within call of home. 
 
 There stood in the edge of the grove a rude 
 shed, which served as a shelter for the furnace 
 and for a large wooden cistern used in the proc- 
 ess of sugar-making. As Tom was passing this 
 shed he was accosted by Barclay Snooks, who 
 was lounging on a bench within the enclosure. 
 
 " Hold on a bit, pardner," said Barclay, " I 
 was on the lookout fer you." 
 
 Tom obligingly checked his pace, turned from 
 the path, and walked up to the sugar-house. Bar- 
 clay insolently surveyed him from head to foot, 
 and then again from foot to head, at the same 
 time slowly sending from his nostrils a quantity 
 of tobacco smoke. The paragon performed this 
 wonderful feat self-approvingly, with the air of 
 one to whom such pneumatic miracles were easy. 
 
 " How do you like the gun ? " 
 
 Tom replied that it was a pretty good bird 
 gun, and a tolerable snake gun, but not very 
 reliable as a squirrel killer. 
 
 "You don't hold her right," said Barclay, 
 rising from the bench. " Le'me show you how 
 to handle her." 
 
 Tom, glad to ease his muscles, gave the 
 weapon into the big boy's hand. Barclay begged
 
 THE CAKOL OF A MEADOW LARK 243 
 
 Tom just to let him load the bully old shooting- 
 iron once more, in pure affection ; and began to 
 ram its long, black gullet half full of powder, 
 tow and shot. 
 
 "It does me good to git holt of her oncet 
 agin," half soliloquized Barclay. "I s'pose 
 you've made up yer mind to keep her, Tadmore, 
 now that you've given her a fair trial." 
 
 " Keep ! " exclaimed Tom. " What do you 
 mean? Of course I mean to keep the gun. 
 Why not?" 
 
 "I let you have it on credit, you recollect," 
 said Barclay, deliberately. "I'm not in any 
 particular hurry about the money, but I do feel 
 sorry on your account, bub, fer boys ort to be 
 honest about their money matters." 
 
 " Why, Barclay, you know well enough that I 
 paid you for the gun, all but the forty-nine cents 
 that I paid to Seneca, who told me you sent him 
 for it." 
 
 " Did Sineca tell you that ? Somebody's got 
 a bad memory, my son, either me er you. Have 
 you any witness ? It's a good idee to have yer 
 witnesses nigh. I've got mine here behind the 
 sugar-cistern. You kin come out, Sineca." 
 
 Very dramatic was the situation, when the 
 guileless younger brother, emerging from the 
 shadow of the cistern, confronted Master Tad- 
 more. 
 
 "Now, it lays between you two," resumed
 
 244 TOM TAD 
 
 Barclay. " Here is brother Sineca, he kin speak 
 for hisself." 
 
 Tom, in high excitement, appealed to the com- 
 mon witness. " Didn't I, Sineca ? Didn't I pay 
 Barclay five dollars and fifty-on cents, and 
 afterwards give you forty-nine cents ? " 
 
 Seneca glanced at Barclay who, fixing a cap 
 on the gun, grinned and said : 
 
 " Tell the truth, Sineca, like a Snooks, and 
 don't beat about the bush." 
 
 " I didn't know you ever clean gave up the 
 gun, Barclay," was the deliberate falsehood of the 
 hopeful Seneca. " He was to pay up the forty- 
 nine cents." 
 
 " You lie ! You both lie ! " cried Tom, white 
 with rage. " I did pay you are thieves. Give 
 back the gun ! " 
 
 The loudness and fierceness of these exclama- 
 tions were heard at the Tadmore mansion, not 
 by its human inmates, but by Hugo, the magnifi- 
 cent English mastiff that Barclay was so desirous 
 of killing. The excited animal, roused by Tom's 
 voice, came bounding from his kennel, barking 
 loud, and stormed towards the sugar-house. 
 
 Barclay in terror raised the gun to his 
 shoulder, hurriedly aiming at the dog. Seneca 
 screamed and mounted in a twinkling to the top 
 of the shed. The dog was within a hundred feet 
 of Barclay when that quaking youth pulled the 
 trigger and "Snooksie" exploded, flying to
 
 THE CAKOL OF A MEADOW LARK 245 
 
 flinders with a stunning report and a cloud of 
 smoke that obscured the sun. The dog, fright- 
 ened, turned a summerset in his sudden effort to 
 stop running. Barclay sustained no greater in- 
 jury than a scratched and blackened face, a 
 much bruised shoulder, and the dislocation of 
 two fingers. Bellowing with pain and fright, 
 the bully fled, leaving Seneca solitary upon the 
 roof of the shed. 
 
 Tom called the dog from pursuing Barclay, 
 and, hastening homeward, he said to himself: 
 "I'm glad Barclay's gun bio wed up."
 
 XXXI 
 
 THE UNION PICNIC 
 
 THE churches of Forest Glen held a Union 
 Picnic, on spacious grounds including that corner 
 of the Big Woods called Yellow Oaks, and the 
 adjacent level pasture belonging to the Tadmore 
 farm. 
 
 The clerk of the weather mixed up the ele- 
 ments, warm, cool, moist, dry, in accordance 
 with his recipe for making heavenly June days 
 in southern Ohio ; and the result was perfection. 
 Charley Blogson, one of the first to arrive on 
 the picnic grounds, voiced the opinion of boydom 
 when he said to Tom Tadmore and Sam Noggle, 
 " It's a rip-snortin' fine morning ! " to which Sam 
 answered, " Awful nice ! " Miss Belmont, also 
 an early comer to the woodland heights, with 
 her Sunday-school contingent, could not refrain 
 from reciting the " memory gem " : 
 
 " O Gift of God ! O perfect day 
 Whereon shall no man work, but play ; 
 Whereon it is enough for me, 
 Not to be doing, but to be ! " 
 
 Many of the public school-teachers who taught 
 also in Sabbath-school or sang in church choirs, 
 
 246
 
 THE UNION PICNIC 247 
 
 were at the picnic. Conspicuous among the 
 school ma'ams, Miss Crinkler, not the least nor 
 the youngest member of the High School 
 "faculty," tripped along skittishly beside Pro- 
 fessor Ripantare, fanning him with a palm leaf 
 fan and imposing upon him the custody of her 
 gaudy parasol. The Professor had strained 
 his principles by appearing at a function sustained 
 by the clergy, for he made no bones of confiding 
 to educated people that he was an agnostic, and 
 he shocked Miss Crinkler by asking, in deep 
 chest tones, if she had read Bob Ingersol's " The 
 Mistakes of Moses " ? 
 
 Herr Von Schlag, notwithstanding the fact 
 that he played the organ in the Unequivocal 
 Church, also surprised certain gossipy folks by 
 showing his bushy mane and big eye-glasses at a 
 religious jubilation ; for he was known to sympa- 
 thize with Kipantare's heresies, and both men 
 were acknowledged pessimists. 
 
 Josephus Gadmeter failed not in his proverbial 
 punctuality ; he pervaded the grove and patrolled 
 the meadow, a self-constituted committee of the 
 whole. Of course all the village pastors were 
 there, Reverend Ennydox, Parson Jones, Preacher 
 Brown and the rest. Besides these local minis- 
 ters, the Reverend Ingot Bullion came from a 
 neighboring town, with his ruddy wife and seven 
 children. Everybody loved this rough and ready 
 evangelist, on account of his genuine goodness
 
 248 TOM TAD 
 
 and absolute sincerity. He had an amusing way 
 of referring to sects, by abbreviations, as though 
 they were so many railroads. " I was raised," 
 he would say, "among the U. B.'s, in Pennsyl- 
 vania, but my father was an M. E., and one of 
 my uncles an M. P. But I extend the right hand 
 of fellowship to any preacher of the gospel. I 
 exchanged pulpits last Sunday with a C. P., al- 
 though you all know I'm an out and out B. G. 
 one of the Broadest Gauge." 
 
 It seemed as if everybody had been invited to 
 the Union Picnic. Who would have believed 
 that the neighborhood was so populous and the 
 Sabbath-school so popular? No leading family 
 within a circuit of five miles was unrepresented. 
 The Smythes came out in full force, the Hoyles, 
 the Atkinsons, the Bopps, the Culpeppers, the 
 Gush girls, Amy and her sister, everybody. 
 And everybody was "having a real good time." 
 
 Somewhat aloof from the throng stood Mrs. 
 Bogus and the Judge, under a spreading beech, 
 upon the smooth bole of which their son Joey 
 was carving the letters J. B. The ubiquitous 
 Mr. Gadmeter spied the trio and rushed up to 
 shake hands and to make them feel at home. 
 Joey, sensitive to the push of some telepathic 
 repulsion, saw the principal coming and fled, 
 leaving the initials unfinished. The Judge re- 
 ceived Josephus with cordiality, but the lady, 
 who counted herself as the " four hundred " of
 
 THE UNION PICNIC 249 
 
 Forest Glen, put out a single finger, and, in a 
 manner at once condescending and aristocratic, 
 inquired, 
 
 " How is the school ? " 
 
 "What Mrs. Bogus meant as a refined snub, 
 Josephus took as an invitation to familiarity; 
 he squeezed the one finger assuringly and spoke 
 in a glow of confidence. 
 
 " Joey is making magnificent progress, madam, 
 in mental and in written ; and he ranks number 
 one in rules and principles. That son of yours, 
 Judge, is a prodigy ; he has the brain of a young 
 "Webster, madam. I'm proud of your Joey 
 a model scholar deportment 100 ; all industry, 
 all character, a born medal-winner, you may 
 say." 
 
 "Joseph is a remarkable child," murmured the 
 mother, thawing perceptibly in the eyes. "I 
 never knew him to do a wrong or ungentlemanly 
 act." 
 
 " Blood, ma'am, blood. The son of a gentle- 
 man always shows his good breeding." 
 
 The Judge felt considerably relieved to see Dr. 
 Blumas coming slowly towards the beech-tree. 
 The doctor carried a big black cane, and his great 
 burly head was bent forward abstractedly. A 
 hearty salutation from the Judge, awakened him 
 to things external. Mrs. Bogus beamed affability. 
 
 " "We didn't expect the pleasure of meeting you 
 here."
 
 250 TOM TAD 
 
 The doctor touched the brim of his soft felt 
 hat, which was not new nor well-brushed, and as 
 he did so the lady's critical eye took note that 
 he had on two collars. There must be some- 
 thing very serious the matter, to bring about 
 such an extreme state of absent-mindedness, 
 thought Mrs. Bogus. 
 
 " It is almost by accident that I find myself 
 here," explained the physician. "I suppose I 
 moved automatically; I thought I was going 
 the other way, until I heard the shouting. I 
 have just left the bedside of a very sick girl, a 
 very sick girl ; and I hope this noise won't dis- 
 tress her." 
 
 Many eager listeners had quietly gathered 
 around the tree, but not near enough to the doctor 
 to catch all his words. "How is she?" they 
 asked of one another in suppressed voices. " How 
 does he say she is ? " The doctor's troubled eye, 
 glancing around the circle of anxious faces, 
 lighted up with a kindly parental sympathy, and 
 he spoke in grave tones : 
 
 "The case is serious but not yet dangerous. 
 We have not reached the crisis of the disease." 
 
 The deep silence in which all had harkened to 
 these words was broken by Josephus Gadmeter, 
 who, as if demanding official information for the 
 public weal, bluntly inquired, 
 
 "What ails her? What's the matter with 
 Hannah Tadmore ? "
 
 THE UNION PICNIC 251 
 
 " Nervous prostration," answered Doctor Blu- 
 mas, curtly. " Overtaxed brain too little rest 
 too much study." 
 
 The principal felt morally bound to enter a 
 sweeping protest against the medical man's 
 hypothesis. 
 
 "Begging your pardon, I never knew an in- 
 stance of overtaxed brain, in all my educational 
 experience. No, sir ! Bosh ! Hard study brings 
 good health ; the harder the study the better the 
 health! I know what I'm talking about it's 
 my business to know. The facts are against 
 you, my dear doctor. Look at statistics ! " 
 
 Judge Bogus stared upward as if the multitu- 
 dinous leaves overhead were statistics, and the 
 rest of the company blinked aloft to see what the 
 Judge was looking at. The doctor poked the 
 ground with his cane, and Mr. Gadmeter, waxing 
 eloquent, and jabbing his forefinger at the rotund 
 front of the Judge, argued on. 
 
 " Look at statistics ! You dare not face cold 
 statistics, Dr. Blumas. They knock you down. 
 You are a physician an M. D. you have your 
 degree and this community respects you. But 
 we are discussing a question of pedagogics. 
 Pedagogics. It is a psychic question, I admit, 
 but a pedagogico-psychic not a therapeutico- 
 psychic question. It is not hard study, my 
 friends, which destroys your children's healths ; 
 it isn't 'rithmetic, and grammar, and science, and
 
 252 TOM TAD 
 
 lit'ratoor, ruins these boys and girls, but it's danc- 
 ing, and overeating, and oversleeping, and fash- 
 ion, and frivolity, which uses up their bodies and 
 their immortal souls. I ask Keverend Ennydox 
 if that's not so ? Nervous prostration ! Nerv- 
 ous moonshine ! I'm a practical educator I 
 have no patience with sentimental theories ! " 
 
 "Thomas Gradgrind is not yet dead," re- 
 marked Dr. Blumas aside to the Judge. 
 
 "How? What's that?" interposed Gad- 
 meter. 
 
 " I say Thomas Gradgrind is not yet dead." 
 
 " Gradgrind ? Who's he ? " 
 
 "I refer to a character in Dickens's Hard 
 Times." 
 
 " Eh ? O yes. Fiction. I seldom read novels. 
 Of course a man in my position must dip into 
 those sort of books now and then, as a clergy- 
 man must visit the slums." Gadmeter looked 
 a-squint at Ennydox. " I pulled through a play 
 or two of Shakespeare, in the translation." 
 
 There was much laughing in the sleeve at Mr. 
 Gadmeter's expense, and many wondered how it 
 ever happened that the School Board came to 
 elect such a man to fit the youth of Forest Glen 
 for " the duties of this life and the joys of eter- 
 nity." Dr. Blumas strode away, chuckling, and 
 the throng which had clustered around him to 
 hear tidings of Hannah, had begun to scatter, 
 when a rattle of buggy wheels was heard and
 
 THE UNION PICNIC 253 
 
 who should drive into the grove but Claude 
 Rockingham, with Sadie Smythe by his side ! 
 
 An urchin band of barbarians, intruding on 
 the borders of Christendom, hailed this gay 
 turnout with jeers and a salvo of clods. 
 
 " Swell head ! Swell head ! " bawled one of 
 the heathen horde. " Puttin' on style ! " 
 
 " Big bugs 1 " cried another. " Think they're 
 the whole shootin' match ! " 
 
 A lad belonging to Miss Crinkler's Bible class 
 yelled, " Whip behind ! Yer hoss is blind ! " 
 Claude, thus admonished, did " whip behind," 
 but not quickly enough to sting with his keen 
 lash the slim body of Squinty Runkle, who leapt 
 nimbly from the very narrow and uncomfortable 
 perch on which he had been hooking a ride. The 
 waif took to his heels, Seneca Snooks and Cuff 
 Chuck barking on his track, like mongrels cha- 
 sing a scared kitten. 
 
 Squinty, eluding his pursuers, sought refuge in 
 the camp of the civilized, where he flitted about 
 among the bushes, an alien in a strange country. 
 He could not classify himself either with the 
 wolves or with the lambs. 
 
 Many efforts had been made by Miss Belmont 
 and other missionaries, to lure the timorous little 
 pagan to Sunday-school, but the only time he 
 ever entered a church was on the memorable 
 night when he brought the news that Noggle's 
 house was " done gone." Once he told Tom that
 
 254 TOM TAD 
 
 he was afraid of the sound of church bells, and 
 that on Sundays he hid in the hollow sycamore 
 in the Big Woods. Three tickets were presented 
 to Squinty, requesting his attendance at the 
 picnic, and these he hoarded away with the pro- 
 grams and dead flowers he had picked up on the 
 night of the commencement. 
 
 Being now driven within the picnic purlieus, 
 he gradually mustered courage to slip unobserved 
 to the very shadow of the lemonade barrel. 
 Sam Noggle, in the act of dipping a tin-cup into 
 the arctic sweets, felt a slight pulling at the skirts 
 of his linen coat, and, turning around, saw the 
 unclassified creature winking and grinning un- 
 speakable gratification. 
 
 " "Why, how d'ye do, Squinty ? " said Sam, ta- 
 king the boy's hand, which was thin and limber, 
 and shaking it cordially. 
 
 " I'm glad to see you enjoying yourself. Had 
 any lemonade ? " 
 
 " Gosh ! it's you ! " said Squinty, still grinning, 
 and gazing at Sam with foolish fondness. 
 
 " How have you been this long time ? " in- 
 quired Sam, slightly embarrassed by the extrav- 
 agant gladness of his idolatrous worshipper. 
 
 " Gosh ! you're here ! " 
 
 These two exhaustive sentences were all that 
 could be drawn from the laconic Eunkle. But 
 though he could not, or would not, converse, he 
 was sociable to a fault, much of the time keep-
 
 THE UNION PICNIC 255 
 
 ing at Sam's heels, perfectly satisfied only to be 
 near his protecting divinity. 
 
 Novel and astounding were the scenes and 
 sounds of picnic revelry. Never had Squinty 
 associated the idea of Sunday-school with sport. 
 Here was a free show under the blue canopy. 
 All sorts of merry games were going on. The 
 air was filled with stimulating noises, the 
 knock-knock of croquet mallets, the thud of balls 
 and bats, the cheerful buzz of chat among the 
 men and women, the shouts and laughter of boys, 
 the shrilling and singing of girls, the babble of 
 babies, and the holiday flutter of green leaves 
 to the dance music of June breezes. This Union 
 Picnic was almost as amusing as a circus, and 
 almost as confusing. It made a light head dizzy, 
 to see such flocks and swarms of gaily clad girls, 
 whirling grace-hoops, skipping ropes, sailing half 
 way up to heaven in grape-vine swings. 
 
 The much-hazing big-boy world had not alto- 
 gether excluded hapless Runkle from participa- 
 tion in its insidiously humorous sports. He had 
 been initiated into the mystery of " Sockabout," 
 "Hatball," and "Stink Baste." As "endman," 
 he had been hurled senseless in playing " Crack 
 the Whip." He had been crushed flat under the 
 weight of a dozen boys playing " More-on-the- 
 Saw-Mill." 
 
 Other and less " strenuous " games, in which 
 the softer sex participated, he now witnessed for
 
 256 TOM TAD 
 
 the first time in his life, and some of these pas- 
 times made him open his eyes and his mouth, 
 very wide. The intricate mazes of " Drop the 
 Handkerchief," and of "Hindmost of Three," 
 puzzled his brain ; he could hardly make head or 
 tail of " King Charles's Bridge," though the game 
 tickled him immensely. He wished himself in 
 the train of King Charles that he too might 
 " pass through " when they sang 
 
 " Open the Gates high as the Sky." 
 
 But to Ms unsophisticated instinct, the conduct 
 of Sam, Tom and Charley, in the flirtatious game 
 of " Here Come Three Dukes A-Boving," was in- 
 explicable. He would not have believed, without 
 the testimony of his own eyes, that Sam Noggle 
 could ever act the " gal-boy " ; but there Sam 
 was, chanting in response to a bevy of giggling 
 hoydens : 
 
 " O our good -will is to marry ! 
 
 To marry ! to marry ! 
 O our good will is to marry ! 
 With a ran-sa-tan-sa-tee ! " 
 
 The Three Dukes, having each chosen a part- 
 ner, proposed to substitute for the reckless pleas- 
 ure of roving, the more reputable and sanctioned 
 joys of Copenhagen. 
 
 Sam toggle was, by acclamation, selected to 
 enter the ring first. He paced around, with 
 great good humor, playfully scrutinizing the faces
 
 THE UNION PICNIC 257 
 
 of the fair candidates for his favor, and now and 
 then making a gesture, as if about to fix his 
 choice, which at length fell upon Miss Crinkler. 
 The moment that Mattie felt her hand softly 
 stricken, she uttered a screech, and made such 
 frightened haste to scramble under the rope, that 
 Sam forgot to try to kiss her, or seemed to for- 
 get, until it was too late. When it came Tom's 
 turn to try his luck, he felt the blood mounting 
 to his face as he lightly touched the fingers of 
 Melissa Brown. Melissa, blushing also, and let- 
 ting go of the rope, fled, expecting to elude pur- 
 suit and return suddenly to the ring by the safest 
 and surest route. But, in her excitement, she 
 ran farther than she intended, and Tom overtook 
 her just at the moment when, fluttering and half- 
 exhausted, she tripped and fell, crying, " Don't 
 kiss me ! You shan't ! " 
 
 " You think I'd go to the trouble of running 
 after you for nothing ? " said Tom, and putting 
 his arms around Melissa's neck, he took what 
 was his lawful due. For weeks that kiss tasted 
 sweet on his lips. 
 
 The tide of picnic pleasure was at the flood, 
 the universal appetite was impatient for the 
 spreading of the lunch cloths on the sward, the 
 lemonade was sinking low in the barrel and the 
 mercury rising high in the thermometer, when 
 Mr. Barclay Snooks arrived at Yellow Oaks, ac- 
 companied by two ladies. One of these clung
 
 258 TOM TAD 
 
 to his left side, her jeweled fingers hooked 
 firmly within the sharp angle which his gallant 
 elbow made. This favored woman was Mrs. 
 Kebecca Snooks, three weeks a bride. On the 
 gentleman's right, lacking a pace or two of keep- 
 ing abreast of the newly married pair, and ap- 
 pearing rather neglected and "out of sorts," 
 walked Miss Rachel McStaver. 
 
 Barclay's " loud " wedding suit and his wife's 
 gorgeous headgear, attracted much attention as 
 the couple strolled awkwardly, but with ostenta- 
 tious airs, from place to place. Their conspicuous 
 vanity provoked much subdued merriment. 
 Claude Rockingham conspired with Amy Gush 
 and other mischievous spirits, to flatter the pair 
 by fulsome compliments and congratulations. 
 Barclay received the demonstrations as sincere 
 and suitable just what he expected; but the 
 keen-minded Rebecca, conscious of being made 
 ridiculous, drew her husband aside and proposed 
 taking a loverly walk and talk. The pair pres- 
 ently strolled away to a quiet nook, sufficiently 
 far from the "madding crowd," and both sat 
 down on a convenient log. 
 
 " Don't you know they were making fools of 
 us ? Haven't you a mite of sense ? " 
 
 " That's no way to talk to me, Beck ! Do you 
 s'pose caze I married you, you kin sass me, like 
 you do Rach ? " 
 
 " I'll talk to you jest what way I please, and
 
 THE UNION PICNIC 259 
 
 if you don't like it, you can lump it. Do you 
 reckon I married you to be made a laughing 
 stock of?" 
 
 "Beck, I've had about enough of your hen- 
 peckin' remarks. This ain't the fust time you've 
 gone too fur. I'm a-gettin' riled. Rach is right 
 about it you need takin' down a peg. You've 
 had a low bringin' up. You hain't used to good 
 society." 
 
 Mrs. Eebecca Snooks breathed hard. She bit 
 her lip till the blood came. 
 
 " You fool ! They were making fun of us I 
 tell you! I heard that pink girl in the white 
 dress giggling behind my back ; and that dude 
 that bowed almost to the ground whispered to 
 somebody that my rings were copper ! I heard 
 him as plain as you hear me now ! " 
 
 " Did he say they was copper ? " snickered the 
 fond young husband, taking his dear one's hand 
 in his and feeling the rings, as if to test their 
 genuineness by touch. " He was 'way off, Beck ; 
 they ain't copper, they's brass." 
 
 Rebecca's face turned ashen white. She looked 
 up and faltered, 
 
 " Are you in earnest ? " 
 
 " You kin bet your last hairpin." 
 
 " And you lied to me about your money ! " 
 
 " It's consarned little money I ever had to lie 
 about, by hokey. I hain't got money, but I've 
 got brains, and I've got Beck."
 
 260 TOM TAD 
 
 Mrs. Eebecca Snooks, three weeks a bride, 
 arose from her seat on the log, a " new woman." 
 There was no trace of pallor on her cheek, her 
 countenance suggested not ashes but flame. 
 
 " What did you marry me for ? " 
 
 " To wait on me," grunted Barclay. 
 
 " What if I won't do it ? " 
 
 "I'll make you: I'll hoss- whip you." The 
 new woman thought of her late promise to " love, 
 honor and obey," and her soul rose insurgent. 
 
 " Barclay Snooks, git up 1 " 
 
 " Beck, don't take on. We're hooked together 
 fer better or wuss. Of course I expect to be 
 minded. It's natural. The man's the boss." 
 
 " Did you hear me say ' Git up ' ? " Barclay 
 saw in his wife's eyes that which made him re- 
 member her sister's word, " Wolferine." 
 
 " Git up from that log ! " A forced grin dis- 
 played Barclay's irregular tobacco-stained teeth 
 to great disadvantage. 
 
 " This ain't no place for highsterics and tan- 
 trums." 
 
 "Git up, I say!" This third repetition of 
 Becky's order was accompanied by a sounding 
 slap on the cheek of her spouse. He muttered a 
 coarse imprecation and pulled out a big pocket 
 knife. 
 
 " Gi'me that ! " demanded the vixen, snatching 
 the knife from his grip, and flinging it away. 
 Then, doubling up her fist, false-knuckled with
 
 THE UNION PICNIC 261 
 
 rings, she thrust it under her lord's nose, and ut- 
 tered the contemptuous taunt, 
 
 " Smell your master ! " 
 
 " O come, now, Beck, simmer down ! "Wot'll 
 folks say if they see you cuttin' up this a- way ? 
 I know I'm high tempered and that's why I'm 
 fond of you. "We're jist alike." 
 
 " You coward ! You bully ! Wait on you, 
 must I ? Nary a time ! D'you hear ! Git up ! " 
 
 Barclay yielded to the force of circumstances 
 over which he had rashly lost control. Hardly 
 had he scrambled to his feet, when, to his com- 
 plete discomfiture, Miss Eachel McStaver came 
 towards him with mincing steps and simpering 
 smiles. 
 
 "Had a little tiff?" 
 
 " Viper ! " said Beck. 
 
 " Dovey dear ! " said Rach. 
 
 " Take me home, Barclay," said Beck. Then 
 she whispered, " Don't let on anything has hap- 
 pened." 
 
 Barclay was himself again. He crooked his 
 elbow d la mode. 
 
 " I should think you might offer your sister-in- 
 law your t'other arm, Barclay. Have you for- 
 gotten your manners, now you're spliced to 
 Beck?" 
 
 " No, he hain't forgot his manners, Rach ; it's 
 you that don't know what's good form. You 
 ought to have more sense, than to tag yourself
 
 262 TOM TAD 
 
 on to us. Nobody invited you. Didn't you 
 ever hear that two is company, and three's a 
 crowd ? " 
 
 " Hold your clack, Beck. I was addressing my 
 words to Mr. Snooks." 
 
 " Mr. Snooks and me is one." 
 
 "That's so," said Barclay. "You and Each 
 better kiss and make up. That's the way I'd fix 
 it." 
 
 " I hope you're not going to take sides against 
 your own wife," snapped Eebecca, reproachfully. 
 
 " Beck, what do you take me f er ? When I sot 
 my heart on you, I slung away every other 
 woman. I am a Snooks. When a female mar- 
 ries into our family, they know they are marry- 
 ing a gentleman. I haven't no objection to 
 allow Each to go with us in a mere sister-in-law 
 way, but ef Mrs. Snooks says 'no,' then Miss 
 McStaver has got to drop out of the game." 
 
 The committee on arrangements declared it was 
 time for the picnickers to go home ; the croquet 
 wickets were pulled up, the grape-vine swings 
 were abandoned to the play of the wind, the 
 empty baskets were gathered together, the picnic 
 revels were ended. Before sundown, a farm 
 wagon, the great box-bed of which was half full 
 of fragrant hay, had transported from the grove 
 to the village the last party of youths and 
 maidens, under the indulgent chaperonage of 
 Miss Crinkler. These belated junketers, as soon
 
 THE UNION PICNIC 263 
 
 as the wagon started home, began singing the 
 parody : 
 
 "Hold the forks, the knives are coming, 
 
 Spoons are on the way; 
 Slam the dishes on the table, 
 Pass the hash this way." 
 
 On nearing the Tadmore homestead, which 
 stood a few rods back from the road, the driver 
 lifted his hand, and, at the signal, every voice 
 was instantly stilled. Slowly the vehicle moved 
 past the house, the pensive young folks on the 
 lookout to catch a chance glimpse of some mem- 
 ber of the well-beloved family ; but the only liv- 
 ing creature in view was Hugo, the mastiff, sit- 
 ting on his haunches, under the sassafras-tree, 
 motionless as an image in bronze. Tom lingered 
 in the woods alone long after the big jolt wagon 
 had rumbled away, down the dusty road. Now 
 when all were gone, when darkness and silence 
 stole in upon the deserted scene of the day's mer- 
 riment, a sense of strange melancholy, like a 
 brooding cloud, came over the spirit of Hannah 
 Tadmore's brother. The long shadows of the 
 trees looked like dim paths leading to infinity. 
 A lone cricket chirped a single thin shrill note in 
 the grass. A light breeze ran whispering in the 
 dusky foliage, then suddenly ceased, and the 
 hush which ensued was as the hush of death. 
 
 Slowly the boy left the woods and bent his 
 steps homeward, treading the grass grown border
 
 264 TOM TAD 
 
 of the road. A few faint stars glimmered to his 
 vision, like far off, tiny taper lights struggling 
 to keep aflame. As faint and uncertain, twinkled 
 now and again the pale ascending lamps of wan- 
 dering fireflies, hovering over dank grasses of 
 the ravine. The evening air, warm and languor, 
 ous, carried heavy odors of woodbine and of rose. 
 A tiger-moth flitted over Tom's head, as it were 
 a humming-bird of the night, flying on muffled 
 wings. From the depth of the woods, lately re- 
 sounding with jubilant echoes, the tremulous 
 wail of a screech owl came. The desolate cry 
 stirred in Tom a vague sensation of terror ; he 
 quickened his pace, passed through the dooryard 
 gate, hurried across the lawn and stepped onto 
 the veranda. There he found Dr. Eldon sitting on 
 a rustic bench, still as a ghost. It struck Tom as 
 a thing unnatural and ominous that his uncle sat 
 thus gloomily in the twilight, without pipe or cigar. 
 
 "How is sister?" 
 
 " No better, Tom." 
 
 The boy stood silent, choking down his heart. 
 At length he said, 
 
 " I'd like to see her." 
 
 Eldon took his nephew's hand. 
 
 " Wait a day or two, then she may be well 
 enough to see you. Not to-night. Don't go 
 near the room, now. Make no noise " 
 
 " No, I won't, uncle. Good-night." 
 
 " Good-night, my boy."
 
 XXXII 
 
 KING'S EX 
 
 TWICE a day Doctor Blumas climbed the hill 
 to the Tadmore house to visit Hannah ; and 
 while the genial practitioner noted her tempera- 
 ture, her variable respiration and feeble pulse, he 
 cheered his patient with playful questions and 
 droll jokes. 
 
 " You are Poking peart this morning ; not quite 
 so head-achey, eh? That's right, my lady! 
 Take it easy ; eat, drink and sleep ; sleep like 
 Kip Van "Winkle and the Seven Sleepers, and 
 we'll bring you out of the kinks before you know 
 it!" 
 
 Hannah would respond to these playful sallies, 
 with an evanescent smile, and her languid eyes 
 would follow the doctor as he moved about the 
 room with hands locked behind him, or sat 
 penciling one prescription after another, the 
 which he afterwards tore up and cast out of the 
 window. 
 
 "All right! I'll be up in the afternoon as 
 usual. Give her the powders every three hours, 
 and the drops as directed." 
 
 After this oft-repeated advice, the conscientious 
 
 265
 
 266 TOM TAD 
 
 physician would pull his slouch hat over his iron 
 gray hair and plod his way towards the village, 
 frowning upon the side-walk. 
 
 Scarcely an hour passed without bringing to 
 the Tadmore threshold some friend or messenger, 
 to inquire how the sick girl was. A basket filled 
 with choice fruit and sealed glasses of dainty 
 jelly came from the Hoyle farm and a bottle of 
 fragrant blackberry cordial, from Hine's cellar. 
 The recent graduates of the Forest Glen High 
 School united in sending the fever-smitten girl a 
 box of roses, with a card inscribed in the hand- 
 writing of Blanchie Bopp, " To our beloved class- 
 mate, Hannah Tadmore." 
 
 Mrs. Bogus, in her new rockaway, was driven 
 up the hill by a colored coachman, to make in- 
 quiries and suggest remedies ; but the good lady 
 stayed rather too long, talked too loud, and, in 
 leaving, depressed Mrs. Tadmore by religiously 
 remarking, ""We must all come to it sooner or 
 later. Dust thou art." 
 
 One hot afternoon, Charley Blogson trudged 
 up the dusty road, bearing in his hand a tin fruit 
 can filled and oversquirming with crawfishes 
 which he had captured from their hiding in slippery 
 crevices along the bed of Blue Clay Creek. " I 
 thought, mebby," he said to Tom who met him 
 on the lawn, " I thought mebby your sister Han- 
 ner would like to plague 'em." Tom appreciated 
 his friend's notion of sensations subtly agreeable,
 
 KING'S EX 267 
 
 and was grateful. "Hesitatingly he received the 
 proffered gift, but explained apologetically: 
 " She's not like us, Charley ; she don't like to 
 tease anybody or any animal." Tears stood in 
 Blogson's big, blue eyes while he waited for Tom 
 to carry the living testimonial to Mrs. Tadmore, 
 who happened to come to the front door. Tom, 
 on explaining Charley's errand, was surprised 
 that his mother, instead of refusing, took the of- 
 fering, and said earnestly, "Tell Charley it is 
 very kind of him to think of sister, and thank 
 him, Tom, in my name and in hers." 
 
 The following Sunday morning, while the 
 church bells were ringing, Fritz Haberkorn, in a 
 hesitating manner, approached Dr. Eldon who 
 was meditatively strolling on the lawn. The old 
 soldier held in his rough fingers a piece of brown 
 paper in which lay a few succulent sprigs of 
 sheep-sorrel and a bit of the inner bark of sassa- 
 fras root. 
 
 "Py golly, you must exguse me. Shquinty 
 Koonkle kommt efery day mit shtuft like dees, 
 und he say, ' Bleeze shall he geef it Tom's Sch wes- 
 ter.' He dinkt dees schmect goot." 
 
 Uncle Felix took charge of Squinty's choice 
 edibles, and Fritz clumped away to the barn, 
 blowing his nose. 
 
 The sanitary precaution which forbade Tom 
 to enter the apartment in which his sister lay, 
 greatly grieved him and offended his boyish
 
 268 TOM TAD 
 
 sense of his importance to her and of her de- 
 pendence on him. Though waved from the por- 
 tals of the sick room more than once by Dr. 
 Blumas, and though distinctly advised by Uncle 
 Felix to keep away from the house, Tom would 
 hang about the premises and look in wistfully 
 through a window, or sit down upon a doorstep, 
 in deep dejection. At length his longing for 
 some interchange of sympathy with Hannah, 
 through speech or sight, became so intense that 
 he made a pathetic appeal to his mother. 
 
 " Mother, don't she ask for me ? The doctor 
 needn't know. Let me go in, a little while, with 
 you ! " 
 
 The mother shook her head, and, kissing Tom, 
 gently disengaged his hand from her sleeve to 
 which it clung. 
 
 " Mayn't I just peep in and see how she looks 
 and throw her a kiss ? " 
 
 " No, my dear, no ; not now. She would not 
 recognize you ; she is out of her mind." 
 
 Awed into silence, yet bitterly protesting in 
 his heart, Tom turned away. The mild denial, 
 reluctantly spoken, his sore heart construed as 
 unreasonable and unkind. He had been humil- 
 iated by the doctor, rebuffed by Uncle Felix, 
 and banished by his mother. How could he bear 
 up under this weight of wretchedness ! Not a 
 soul understood his love and his grief. The 
 " Grandfather's Clock " which stood at the end
 
 KING'S EX 269 
 
 of the hall, had been stopped because its ticking 
 troubled Hannah. It seemed to the boy as if 
 time itself had stopped stock still. 
 
 Tom went up to his own room, hoping to find 
 solace in his customary amusements. He had 
 whiled away many a happy afternoon arranging 
 and labeling the treasures of what he called his 
 " Cabinet " : a shelf of fossils ; a collection of 
 copper coins in a cigar box ; an album of post- 
 age stamps ; a stuffed moleskin ; a thousand-legs 
 in a bottle of alcohol ; and a prodigious hornet's 
 nest to which was attached a placard bearing the 
 learned words, Vespa, Sylvestris. Tom's eyes 
 wandered from one curiosity to another, but he 
 was unable to awaken in himself the faintest en- 
 thusiasm for his usual pursuits. He turned to 
 his books, but not one of the familiar titles now 
 appealed to his fancy. The spell of romance had 
 lost its hold. "Whether he loitered in the palace 
 of Aladdin, or drifted down the Mississippi on a 
 raft with Huck Finn, his thoughts were with 
 Han, all his heart was with his sister. It was 
 of no use to read, or to try any kind of work or 
 play, within doors. Tom descended the stairs to 
 the lower hall, took his cap from its peg on the 
 rack, tiptoed to the lawn, and thence stole away 
 to the Big Woods. Long and far did he ramble, 
 tramping up and down hill-slopes and through 
 dingles where shrunken rivulets fed the roots of 
 flowering weeds. He paused to amuse himself
 
 270 TOM TAD 
 
 with the ripe seed-pods of the wild touch-me-not, 
 which, when slightly pressed, burst open, scatter- 
 ing a shower of tiny pellets upon the leaves of 
 silvery green. The pastime was too trivial for 
 Tom's serious mood, which seemed to reproach 
 him for his idle self-indulgence at such a time. 
 Wheresoever he strayed he could not escape mor- 
 bid meditations. Under the shadow of oak and 
 beech and elm he stood, oppressed by the ever- 
 deepening umbra eclipsing his soul. 
 
 The burden of his solitary grief was greater 
 than he could bear, an overwhelming necessity 
 for relief rushed in upon him, and he fell upon 
 his knees on the rough ground and petitioned the 
 Omnipotent in a burst of prayer : " O God ! 
 make her well; make sister Han well. You 
 know how good and kind she is to everybody and 
 how she loves thee, O God, and I love her. 
 Make her better to-night ; or let me be sick in- 
 stead of Hannah, dear God, for I am a boy and 
 I can bear the fever better than her ; and O ! I 
 would rather die than have her be so sick, she is 
 so good." 
 
 Tom rose from his supplication comforted, for 
 he had laid his sorrow upon the bosom of Infi- 
 nite Pity. Out of the gloom of his Gethsemane 
 he came forth, and a new light shone around 
 him. But what philosophy or religion can pre- 
 vent the flow and ebb of young emotions or an- 
 alyze the blended piety and perverseness which
 
 KING'S EX 271 
 
 confuse the conscience and thwart the will of the 
 growing boy? That very evening, after Tom 
 had gone to bed, there came into his mind an un- 
 ruly impulse which soon took the form of defi- 
 nite, disobedient intention. " In the morning I 
 will get up early and, without asking leave of 
 Dr. Blumas or of any one, I will watch my 
 chance and slip into sister's room and speak to 
 her, or, at least, look upon her face." With this 
 resolve in his heart, Tom fell into the sweet ob- 
 livion vouchsafed only to robust youth. 
 
 While he slept a deeper slumber was stealing 
 over the senses of his sister. Soon after sunset, 
 Uncle Felix, alarmed by signs that her vitality 
 was failing fast, sent in haste for Dr. Blumas. 
 The devoted physician, when he arrived and took 
 Hannah's pale wrist between his thumb and fin- 
 ger-tips, had no cheery word to utter. In vain 
 the mother scanned his countenance for the trace 
 of an encouraging smile ; the slow shake of his 
 head spoke the language of defeated skill and 
 love. Clinging, however, to the forlorn adage 
 " While there is life there is hope," he counted 
 the minutes, waiting possible good effects from 
 stimulants administered as a last resort. The 
 patient gave faint signs of animation, whereupon 
 the doctor, in his kind, familiar manner, spoke 
 her name. She looked at him in a half conscious, 
 bewildered way, and her lips moved murmuring 
 inaudible words ; and when he bent his head
 
 272 TOM TAD 
 
 close to her pillow, she asked, in a scared whis- 
 per: "Do you think I'll pass? I studied so 
 hard." A tear stole down the old doctor's 
 cheek. " She takes me for Gadmeter," he said ; 
 " poor child." 
 
 Again Hannah lapsed into lethargy, and the 
 yearning watchers by her bedside all stood 
 gazing upon her, in unavailing anguish. The 
 ticking of the doctor's watch intruded upon the 
 dumb stillness like a preternatural sound never 
 heard before. Midnight came and the solemn 
 tongue of a church bell, in a steeple far away, 
 was heard slowly tolling the hour. Doctor 
 Blumas involuntarily lifted a finger, and a mo- 
 mentary shade crossed his face. An awful in- 
 tuition drew the mother closer to the first-born 
 child laboring now in the last feeble struggles to 
 die. The father stood motionless, rigid with the 
 paralysis of woe. Uncle Felix whispered aside 
 to the doctor. 
 
 Should they rouse Tom and bring him down- 
 stairs ? Ah ! what would his presence avail for 
 the departing soul or for his own bleeding 
 heart ? Spare him the bitter anguish. Let him 
 sleep on until the morning. But there is old 
 Fritz, who, this night, has sat for six hours out 
 on the dark veranda, his shaggy head bowed 
 upon his hands, call Fritz in. 
 
 So still did Hannah lie and so faintly did she 
 breathe that not even Dr. Blumas could be cer-
 
 KING'S EX 273 
 
 tain whetner she was sleeping or dying. Her 
 uncle, with strokings womanly tender, wiped the 
 gathering death dew from her forehead. The fond- 
 ling touch, or some mysterious quickening of the 
 habit of the brain, re-kindled consciousness. Her 
 eyelids opened wearily and her lips gave feeble 
 utterance to a few syllables, something about 
 " children " and " play." Uncle Felix pieced out 
 the meaning of the broken sentence. " She thinks 
 of children playing on the lawn." A faint flush 
 overspread Hannah's cheek, a spiritual light 
 came into her eyes. Tremulously her right hand 
 lifted, her fingers made the sign of the cross, and 
 she gasped, "You can't catch me you can't 
 catch me now ! King's Ex ! King's Ex ! " 
 
 Excused by the King of Kings, Hannah had 
 received everlasting immunity from pain and 
 terror and tribulation. King's Ex ! The dizzying 
 game of life was ended. She had fallen at the 
 feet of Divine Love, "Which, heeding her tremu- 
 lous appeal, lifted her and bore her Home. 
 
 Before sunrise of the following morning, Tom 
 awoke, and, on the instant, remembered his fixed 
 purpose. He sprang from bed, dressed quickly, 
 descended the stairs with noiseless tread, and, 
 skipping lightly out upon the lawn, culled a 
 bunch of roses. " She likes these Celestials," he 
 said to himself ; " I will fetch them to her for a 
 surprise." With the dewy offering in his hand 
 he glided back to the house, which he entered in 

 
 274 TOM TAD 
 
 breathless silence, and, as if by stealth, made his 
 way to the forbidden sick room. The door was 
 closed. The boy softly turned the knob and 
 pushed forward into the chamber, feeling a 
 mounting thrill of triumph. But the window 
 shades were drawn down ; there was hardly 
 enough light to enable the eye to distinguish 
 objects clearly. Tom paused in the middle of 
 the room, and, arching a hand above his mouth, 
 ventured the smothered question, "Han! are 
 you awake ? " She answered not, and her brother, 
 after a little hesitation, approached nearer and 
 nearer to the couch upon which she lay so 
 strangely still. Once more he asked, in a stifled 
 voice, but with fond eagerness, " Han ! Sister 
 Han ! are you awake ? " Not a word, not a 
 breath came to him in reply, and Tom thought, 
 " She sleeps so soundly, she must be better, and 
 that is why they have left her here alone." But 
 why that white cloth over her face ? A sudden 
 misgiving struck him to the heart, the roses 
 fell unheeded upon the floor; he was on his 
 knees by the bedside and, with tremulous dread, 
 he softly removed the coverlet from the pallid 
 face, the stilled breast and folded hands. Dear, 
 dearest one, there on her white finger, was the 
 simple ring he had given her, the ring she pre- 
 ferred to wear. Caressingly Tom put his hand 
 upon that of his sister, but instantly recoiled. 
 The appalling revelation came to him in a blind-
 
 KING'S EX 275 
 
 ing nosh. Asleep ? No, no, not sleeping ! this 
 was not sleep, this is death ! Pitiless God, deaf 
 to prayer, had come in the night and taken away 
 his sister's life. " Hannah ! Hannah ! " he 
 moaned, sinking his face upon the cold bosom 
 which could never more respond by a single 
 heart-throb or one loving sigh.
 
 XXXIII 
 
 TOM DISCOVERS NEW WORLDS 
 
 MORBID and unconsolable, Tom religiously 
 strove to adjust himself to the conditions of his 
 changed world, in a life the pleasures and pains 
 of which could not be shared with his sister. He 
 wandered lonely and heart-sore, like one in a 
 vain search for lost joy. To him the roses of 
 June seemed not to yield so sweet a fragrance as 
 they used to exhale ; the ripe dew-berries lacked 
 a flavor remembered in those which melted upon 
 his tongue a year ago, when Hannah walked the 
 green lanes and wandered afield, with him. How 
 desolate now appeared the play-house she had 
 helped him contrive, in the vine-canopied nook 
 they had named Fairy-land. 
 
 Summer, in dusty robes, paced the Ohio Val- 
 ley, and drank away the waters until every 
 brook was gone and the broad, deep river was 
 shrunken to a narrow stream winding among 
 bars of scorched sand. The yellow feathers of 
 the golden-rod faded to flaxen plumes; the 
 floral crown of the hardy iron-weed lost its 
 purple glory ; the field-thistle sent forth a 
 
 276
 
 TOM DISCOVERS NEW WORLDS 277 
 
 thousand tiny parachutes to wander in upper 
 air; September, October, November, came and 
 lingered and passed; Thanksgiving Day was 
 over, and Christmas was not far off Merry 
 Christmas, the Love Feast of the "World. 
 
 "Mother, it will not seem like holidays this 
 year. I couldn't bear to trim a Christmas tree, 
 or to light the candles, or to start her music-box 
 a-going, as she always did, you know. I can't 
 help thinking she has only gone away for a while 
 on a visit, like you went to Los Angeles, and that 
 she will come home by and by, and tell us about 
 where she has been." 
 
 " Yes, my dear ; I feel as you do ; it is hard to 
 reconcile ourselves to God's will." 
 
 Tom, sitting down on a low stool at his moth- 
 er's feet, looked wistfully into her face : 
 
 " We are more alike than I thought, mother. 
 Do you kind of feel that maybe she is homesick 
 there, and wants us just as much as we want 
 her?" 
 
 The mother, though herself unreconciled, 
 yearned to pour into her son's heart the balm of 
 resignation. It gave her comfort to repeat the 
 sublime assurances of the Book : 
 
 " God is Love. God is Love, and sister is 
 happy in heaven." 
 
 Tom heard in silence, fingering the needle- 
 work which lay neglected in his mother's lap. 
 After a while, he asked,
 
 278 TOM TAD 
 
 "Does the Bible tell anything much about 
 heaven ? " 
 
 " Yes. The Bible says, * Eye hath not seen, 
 nor ear heard, neither have entered into the 
 heart of man, the things which God hath pre- 
 pared for them that love Him.' " 
 
 " I'd like to hear that again," said Tom, look- 
 ing up; and Mrs. Tadmore repeated the pas- 
 sage. Tom listened, nodding his head reflec- 
 tively. 
 
 " I wonder what He has prepared for Hannie ? 
 I s'pose the Bible's true, but I believe you can 
 see and hear angels, once in a long while. I saw 
 sister up in heaven." 
 
 " My son ! " 
 
 " I did ! I saw her in the sky, in a starry 
 part of the sky, she was white as snow, and I 
 saw her crown, but I couldn't make out her 
 wings. She was happy, and I almost heard her 
 say so, in a dim far-away voice, a million miles 
 away. Sometimes on an awful still day, I hear 
 angel music, it sounds like a flute or more 
 like a violin playing a sad tune on the other side 
 of the river." 
 
 " This is imagination, Tom," the mother re- 
 plied, mournfully. 
 
 " Is it ? how do you know ? Have you got it 
 too ? Can you hear the angel music ? How do 
 you tell when it is imagination and when it is a 
 mystery ? Mother, don't you recollect the tex'
 
 TOM DISCOVERS NEW WORLDS 279 
 
 that the preacher read at the funeral, about the 
 last trumpet and the dead shall rise up? He 
 said it was a mystery. Do you know that verse 
 by heart ? " 
 
 Mrs. Tadmore slowly enunciated the solemn 
 words: "Behold, I show you a mystery; we 
 shall not sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a 
 moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last 
 trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the 
 dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall 
 be changed." 
 
 " That's not imagination, mother, that's in 
 the Bible. If the dead can hear the last trumpet, 
 why can't I hear the angel music? It don't 
 come often. I wish God would let Hannah come 
 down sometimes, don't you ? " 
 
 A tear-drop from the mother's eye fell upon 
 Tom's uplifted face. 
 
 " She would like to come," continued the boy, 
 with simplicity. " Hannah won't forget us. 
 Why, nobody forgets her, in church, or at school, 
 or anywhere. They keep flowers on the desk 
 that used to be hers." 
 
 " Yes, Tom, every one loved her. Your father 
 and I went to the cemetery to-day, and when we 
 came within sight of our lot, and were going 
 down along the path through the evergreens, we 
 noticed some one standing by sister's grave ; it 
 was that foolish, forlorn creature you call 
 Squinty."
 
 280 TOM TAB 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Tom, with a cry-and- 
 laugh look of commiseration. " Squinty Runkle ? 
 What did he say ? " 
 
 " Quite alone he stood there in rags, and with 
 naked feet, and the snow was beginning to fall. 
 When he saw us, he hurried away." 
 
 " That's what Squinty most generally always 
 does, runs away." 
 
 " We ought to do something for him, Tom ; if 
 you and Uncle Felix can manage to catch him, 
 we may, at least, fit him out with good shoes and 
 a warm coat." 
 
 " That's a grand idea ! " cried Tom, rising 
 from the stool. " We'll dress him up fine and 
 stuff him with roast turkey and plum puddin', 
 and then we'll all pitch in and save his soul." 
 
 His mother's philanthropic suggestion turned 
 Tom's mind upon ways and means of capturing 
 the object of his deep designs, and the course de- 
 cided upon was to entice Squinty into the Tad- 
 more mansion, on Christmas Eve, and then, as it 
 were, to spring the trap of benevolence upon 
 him. Fritz Haberkorn, being in the secret, in- 
 sisted on procuring a Christmas tree. Knowing 
 of a certain gnarly elm which stood on the bank 
 of Blue Clay Creek and which bore on its limbs 
 many straggling bunches of mistletoe, Fritz, ac- 
 companied by Tom, went, with ax and handsaw, 
 to commit sanctionable robbery. He found the 
 elm, climbed its rough trunk, and succeeded in
 
 TOM DISCOVERS NEW WORLDS 281 
 
 cutting off a bough which nature had lavishly 
 adorned with emerald leaves and waxen pearls. 
 
 On the way homeward, as Tom and Fritz were 
 passing a ramshackle house, they caught sight of 
 a person who, bending under the weight of a 
 great basket filled with dirty linen, looked like 
 Christian bearing the bundle of sins. Tom 
 quickly recognized one of his oldest acquaint- 
 ances. 
 
 "Wie geht's, Barclay? How does your cor- 
 porosity seem to sagatiate ? " 
 
 Barclay set his burden down upon a stump, 
 and regarded his questioner with a supercilious 
 stare. 
 
 " What you carrying in that basket ? " asked 
 Tom. 
 
 " Where did you git yer manners, young man ? 
 When I was a kid of your size, I tuk off my hat 
 when I met a gentleman." 
 
 " Oh pshaw, now, Barclay, don't get mad at 
 me. How are you getting along?" Before 
 Barclay could reply, a voice of shrill and angry 
 impatience was heard calling from the porch of 
 the shanty : 
 
 " Hurry up with them clothes, you lazy 
 hulk!" 
 
 Barclay muttered a vulgar imprecation, cast a 
 hang-dog look of chagrin at Tom, and, lifting the 
 basket to his shoulders, sulkily obeyed the im- 
 perious order of his dear Rebecca.
 
 282 TOM TAD 
 
 The bough of elm, which nature had bedecked 
 in holiday green, was carried home and set up in 
 the parlor where, in due time, it was mysteriously 
 laden by Santa Glaus with glittering tokens from 
 that good-giver's magic sleigh. A few of Tom's 
 special friends shared in the Christmas merry- 
 making. The party would not have been com- 
 plete without Sam Noggle, by whose persuasion, 
 and in whose company, Squinty Kunkle was in- 
 duced to enter the house and witness the festal 
 show. 
 
 Squinty was abashed when ushered into the 
 brilliantly lighted drawing-room, but seeing kind 
 faces only, and hearing only gentle and sympa- 
 thetic voices, he soon felt that he was among 
 friends and had nothing to fear. "While he sat 
 gazing upon the beautiful objects around him, 
 and listening to the medley of happy voices, he 
 was not aware that Mr. and Mrs. Tadmore were 
 plotting to retain him permanently under their 
 protecting roof. Their plans were subsequently 
 carried into effect : Squinty Kunkle was clothed, 
 fed, and put to school. Moreover, he was installed 
 as first assistant-general to Fritz Haberkorn. 
 
 Tom, by his parents' permission, had invited 
 Sam Noggle to stay all night with him, the in- 
 timacy of the boys having greatly increased 
 since their perilous adventure on the river. Ac- 
 cordingly, after the other guests had gone home, 
 the young cronies went up to Tom's bedroom,
 
 TOM DISCOVERS NEW WORLDS 283 
 
 feeling very jolly and altogether certain that life 
 is worth living. 
 
 While Tom slowly drew off his coat, his first 
 move in the process of getting ready for bed, 
 Sam took a look at the curiosities. 
 
 " V-e-s-p-a, vespa," he began to spell aloud, 
 s .y_i what's this, Tom ? I can't make out the 
 last letters." 
 
 "Vespa Sylvestris; that's latin. It means 
 Hornet's Nest." 
 
 " Then you ort to label it Hornet's Nest." 
 
 " You oughtn't to say ' ort,' Sam ; you ort to 
 say ' ought.' " 
 
 "Ort to say 'ought,' ort I?" laughed Sam. 
 " What ought you ort to say ? " 
 
 " I ort to ought to say, ' excuse me for correct- 
 ing your mistake.' You ought to ort to punch 
 my head for my bad manners. Don't you want 
 that centipede? Just put the bottle in your 
 pocket while you think of it. You may have 
 that old moleskin, too. Maybe you are a philo- 
 pelist, if that's what you call it ; I'd just as lief 
 you took that album of stamps along, I don't 
 want it any more." 
 
 Sam, in silent disgust, viewing the ugly " thou- 
 sand-legs," and the decayed moleskin, answered 
 politely, " I haven't got any place to keep curi- 
 osities. Anyhow, you'll want 'em back before 
 long." 
 
 " No ; I hate the sight of them, Sam. I've
 
 284 TOM TAD 
 
 quit the business. I'd sell my old mikerscope 
 there for half what I ask for it. I don't care for 
 zoology like I used to. I haven't told Uncle 
 Felix, though, for he'll be sorry I've gone back 
 on Natural History. But I have. You couldn't 
 hire me to stick a pin through a butterfly or a 
 beetle. No, I'm not goin' to be a naturalist." 
 
 " What are you goin' to be ? " asked Sam, 
 sitting down to untie his shoestrings. 
 
 " I don't hardly know. I'll travel, maybe. I 
 might act, Professor Eipantare says I have 
 dramatic genus. Oratory suits me pretty well, 
 but I don't know which is most eloquent, the 
 pulpit or the bar. I'd like to be a reformer." 
 
 " That wouldn't suit me ! " interrupted Sam, 
 kicking off one of his shoes. " I'll tell you what 
 my idee is. I'm bound to be one of these here 
 men that makes things hum, a boss that people 
 can't help but mind ; and I'll stand by the people 
 and run politics and railroads and everything as 
 it ort to be run. I'll tear down everything that 
 is wrong and help on everything right. I won't 
 let nobody do nothing mean, or impose on 
 anybody, or sell any cussed liquor, when I'm 
 boss." 
 
 " I guess," said Tom, approvingly, " I guess 
 you mean you want to be a reformer." 
 
 " Don't care what you call me," answered Sam, 
 jumping up and walking about the room. " I'll 
 make things git. I want to go ahead and do
 
 <;KAITI.IN<; KA< H OTIIKK IN A 
 
 \VRKSTI.INI; I:OUT.
 
 TOM DISCOVERS NEW WORLDS 285 
 
 something, find the north pole or smash the 
 Turks. Sometimes I just ache to be a general 
 and lead a big army of brave soldiers, strong 
 and brave, but all good, good and kind, Tom, 
 as your mother, and every man ready to do 
 what I say, and I'll march with cannons and 
 swords, from one end of the world to the other, 
 and set things right ! But first of all I must git 
 rich, I'll need piles and piles of money." 
 
 After this burst of confidence, Sam sat down 
 again upon the edge of the bed and listened to 
 Tom, who, while mechanically taking off his vest 
 and trousers, gave tongue to his flighty medita- 
 tions. 
 
 " I don't care much about getting rich, nor be- 
 ing a mighty boss, nor a fighter. I'll tell you what 
 I've made up my mind to be, Sam, if I live. I'd 
 like to make up books that people would read, 
 and keep on reading after you was dead ; books 
 that will make 'em feel sort of shivery happy all 
 over, and sad too, mixed up with thinking and 
 laughing and crying. I've read books like that. 
 Or I'd like to paint splendid pictures that when 
 you look at them you can't ever go away, and 
 when you do, the picture comes along, and you 
 can see it with your eyes shut, like you see angels 
 when you dream. Or maybe I'll be a wonder- 
 ful musician, that can play on all kinds of harps 
 and flutes and pianos and organs, and can play 
 so sweet, or so lovely, or so every wonderful way,
 
 286 TOM TAD 
 
 that when you listen you are all vanished away 
 and turned into something else." 
 
 " AU right, Tom ! let's do it ! " 
 
 The boys shook hands quite solemnly, but a 
 sense of humor quickly checked further senti- 
 mental demonstration and prompted them to 
 ratify this agreement by grappling each other in 
 a rough-and-tumble wrestling bout, after which 
 they rolled into bed and, in less than no time, 
 sank into deep slumber. They slept to awaken 
 to the light of Christmas morning and to the re- 
 newed " gladness of living," which is the heri- 
 tage of boyhood. 
 
 " To be ! to live ! 
 What being, what living, 
 What largess of living 
 
 The blood of the boy can give I " 
 
 As the months went by, Thomas Tadmore in- 
 creased in stature and in understanding. His in- 
 tellectual horizon widened as he rose to higher 
 moral and spiritual levels. The habit of reading 
 grew upon him, and became a source of infinite 
 pleasure. Often he would go to the Big "Woods 
 and, sitting under the " Emperor," would pore 
 upon the printed page. It chanced, one day, 
 that he carried a magical volume to his favorite 
 haunt, and there, under the greenwood tree, he 
 was captured, engrossed, enchanted, by the 
 witchery of "Midsummer Night's Dream."
 
 TOM DISCOVERS NEW WORLDS 287 
 
 Never until that rapturous day had he felt the 
 complete power and blissfulness of the poetic 
 mood. Tom walked homeward, wrapt in a rosy- 
 golden mist of imagination. Meeting his mother 
 in the flower garden, he told her he had changed 
 his intentions in regard to a vocation in life. 
 
 " I do not mean to be an artist, or a musician, 
 or a novelist, mother; I have decided to be a 
 poet, like Shakespeare." 
 
 " Very well, my dear ; I have no objection." 
 
 THE
 
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