Part 19 (2/2)
”What did you say to that?” Donald inquired.
”Oh, I just said it was all for religion, it was church money, and it was all right. I was just gleanin' what few cents they had, to pay the church debt to the missionary; and they ought to be ashamed to have a church debt hangin' over 'em, and they'd oughter be more cheerful 'bout givin' a little somethin' toward raisin' of it.”
When Nickey had finished, there was an ominous silence for a moment or two, and then his mother said sternly:
”What do you suppose Mrs. Perkins will say when she finds that you've tricked her son into a regular gambling scheme, to get his money away from him?”
”Mrs. Perkins,” retorted Nickey, thoroughly aroused by the soft impeachment. ”I should worry! At the church fair, before Mr. Maxwell came, she ran a fancy table, and tried to sell a baby blanket to an old bachelor; but he wouldn't take it. Then when he wasn't lookin', blessed if she didn't turn around and tie the four corners together with a bit of ribbon, and sell it to him for a handkerchief case. She got two dollars for it, and it wasn't worth seventy-five cents. She was as proud as a dog with two tails, and went around tellin'
everybody.”
Silence reigned, ominous and general, and Nickey braced himself for the storm. Even Mrs. Maxwell didn't look at him, and that was pretty bad. He began to get hot all over, and the matter was fast a.s.suming a new aspect in his own mind which made him ashamed of himself. His spirits sank lower and lower. Finally his mother remarked quietly:
”Nickey, I thought you were goin' to be a gentleman.”
”That's straight, all right, what I've told you,” he murmured abashed.
There was another silent pause--presently broken by Nickey.
”I guess I hadn't thought about it, just that way. I guess I'll give the kids their money back,” he volunteered despondently--”only I'll have to make it up, some way, in the treasury.” He felt in his pockets, and jingled the coins.
Another pause--with only the ticking of his mother's knitting needles to relieve the oppressive silence. Suddenly the worried pucker disappeared from his brow, and his face brightened like a sun-burst.
”I've got it, Mrs. Maxwell,” he cried. ”I've got seventy-five cents comin' to me down at the Variety Store, for birch-bark frames, and I'll give that for the blamed old missionaries. That's square, 'aint it now?”
Mrs. Betty's commendation and her smile were salve to the wounds of her young guest, and Donald's hearty laughter soon dispelled the sense of social failure which was beginning to cloud Nickey's happy spirit.
”Say Nickey,” said Maxwell, throwing down his paper, ”Mrs. Betty and I want to start a Boy Scout Corps in the parish, and with your resourceful genius you could get the boys together, and explain it to them, and soon we should have the whole thing in s.h.i.+p-shape order.
Will you do it?”
”Will I?” exclaimed the delighted recruit. ”I guess so--but some of 'em 'aint 'Piscopals, Mr. Maxwell; there's Sam Cooley, he's a Methodist, and----”
”That doesn't cut any ice, Nickey,--excuse my slang, ladies,” he apologized to his wife and Hepsey, at which the boy grinned with delight. ”We're out to welcome all comers. I've got the books that we shall need upstairs. Let's go up to my den and talk it all over. We shall have to spend evenings getting thoroughly up in it ourselves,--rules and knots and first-aid and the rest. Mrs. Burke will allay parental anxiety as to the bodily welfare of the recruits and the pacific object of the organization, and Mrs. Maxwell will make the colors. Come on!”
With sparkling eyes, Nickey followed Donald out of the room; as they disappeared Hepsey slowly shook her head in grateful deprecation at Betty.
”Bless him!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Hepsey. ”Mixin' up religion, with a little wholesome fun, is the only way you can serve it to boys, like Nickey, and get results. Boys that are ever goin' to amount to anything are too full of life to stand 'em up in a row, with a prayer book in one hand and a hymnal in the other, and expect 'em to sprout wings. It can't be done. Keep a boy outside enough and he'll turn out alright.
Fresh air and open fields have a mighty helpful influence on 'em. The way I've got it figgered out, all of us can absorb a lot of the right kind of religion, if we'll only go out and watch old Mother Nature, now and then.”
[Ill.u.s.tration]
CHAPTER XVI
PRACTICAL TEMPERANCE REFORM
The small town of Durford was not immune from the curse of drink: there was no doubt about that. Other forms of viciousness there were in plenty; but the nine saloons did more harm than all the rest of the evil influences put together, and Maxwell, though far from being a fanatic, was doing much in a quiet way to neutralize their bad influence. He turned the Sunday School room into a reading room during the week days, organized a gymnasium, kept watch of the younger men individually, and offered as best he could some chance for the expression of the gregarious instinct which drew them together after the work of the day was over. In the face of his work in these directions, it happened that a venturesome and enterprising saloon-keeper bought a vacant property adjacent to the church, and opened up an aggressive business--much to Maxwell's dismay.
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