Title: The new buggy
Author: Leslie, Madeline
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The new buggy" ***

Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.

[Illustration: THE DOCTOR'S NEW BUGGY.]


[Illustration: THE HAPPY HOME STORIES.]



                        THE NEW BUGGY



                       BY AUNT HATTIE.

                      [MADELINE LESLIE]



    "Be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one
                        another."—Paul.



                           BOSTON:
              PUBLISHED BY HENRY A. YOUNG & CO.,
                        24 CORNHILL.



  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by
                     HENRY A. YOUNG & CO.,
  In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.



LIST
OF VOLUMES IN
THE HAPPY HOME STORIES.
FOR GIRLS.

VOL. I. LITTLE FLYAWAY.

VOL. II. THE SPOILED PICTURE.

VOL. III. FLEDA'S CHILDHOOD.

VOL. IV. THE SINGING GIRL.

VOL. V. MOLLY AND THE WINE GLASS.

VOL. VI. THE TWINS.



LIST
OF VOLUMES IN
THE HAPPY HOME STORIES.
FOR BOYS.

VOL. I. DILIGENT DICK.

VOL. II. COUSIN WILLIE.

VOL. III. LAZY ROBERT.

VOL. IV. LITTLE FRITZ.

VOL. V. THE NEW BUGGY.

VOL. VI. BERTIE AND HIS SISTERS.



CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. THE TRUANT BOYS

CHAPTER II. WHAT HAPPENED NEXT

CHAPTER III. DANIEL AND HIS FATHER—A TROUBLED CONSCIENCE

CHAPTER IV. ANOTHER LIE

CHAPTER V. THE DISTRACTED MOTHER

CHAPTER VI. THE SENSELESS BOY

CHAPTER VII. FORGIVENESS

CHAPTER VIII. THE DOCTOR'S BILL

CHAPTER IX. THE BLUE FISH

CHAPTER X. JIMMY'S PLAN



THE NEW BUGGY.

CHAPTER I.

THE TRUANT BOYS.

"YOU'LL catch it now!" shouted Ralph Lane, as he saw his schoolmate
stealing through the garden to the back door of his father's barn.

"You'll catch it when your father finds you out! I wouldn't be you,
Jimmy Dodge, for the best kite I ever saw."

Poor Jimmy looked very much as though he would like not to be himself,
just at that moment. He had been doing wrong, and he knew it.

He had started for school, and had gone more than half way when he met
Daniel Crawson, a merry boy, who invited, him to take a sail on the
pond.

Daniel's father was a fisherman, and owned a small dory. Occasionally
he gave his son liberty to go out in the boat when it was not in use;
but this afternoon he had not done so, and supposed that Dan, as he
called him, was safe in school.

Little Jimmy thought there was no fun quite equal to sailing on the
water, to be sure he did not know much about it never having been
in a boat but once, and that was in company with the Sabbath school
children, when they went on a picnic to Deer Island. When Daniel in
glowing terms described the pleasure they would have, he said in a
hesitating tone.

"I'm afraid father wouldn't like it; and mother thinks it's awful
dangerous."

"There isn't a bit of danger," urged Daniel. "Father goes out almost
every day in the year, and comes home all safe. We will be back before
school is done; and they needn't know anything about it."

Jimmy knew he ought not to go. His conscience told him that he ought
at that very moment to be walking into the school yard; but he had
listened to the voice of the tempter, and now he could not resist.

It was a lovely day in June. The water had never looked more calm and
peaceful. On the banks of the pond grew large willow trees, throwing
their reflection far over the water.

"We shall have a splendid time," said Daniel, untying the rope which
secured the boat to a post driven firmly into the ground near the shore.

Jimmy stood watching Daniel's skilful movements, for the boy had often
accompanied his father, and knew well how to manage an oar.

"Yes," he repeated, "we shall have a splendid time;" but there was
another voice inside his breast which whispered, "You are a truant boy,
and you know your parents will be displeased."

There was not a breath of wind; and they rowed round and round the pond
sometimes close to the banks, and then steering out into the middle
of the pond. Jimmy grew so excited when Daniel allowed him for a few
minutes to handle the oars that he forgot all about home, and mother,
and school. He stood up, and waved his straw hat to another company of
boaters off at a distance. He sang and shouted with delight.

At last the distant whistle of a steam engine reminded Daniel that it
was time for them to draw up to the shore, fasten the boat, and return
home.

"Haven't we had a good time, though?" questioned the boy, carefully
securing the knot exactly as he found it. "You see there's not a bit
of danger; and you'll get home just in time, nobody will know but what
you have been at school. If father isn't using the boat we'll go again
to-morrow. You'll soon be able to manage an oar as well as I do."

"I like it first rate," answered Jimmy; but his voice did not sound
hearty as it did when he was in the middle of the pond. He did not
think he would like to go quite so soon as to-morrow; but he kept this
thought to himself. Dan was marching up from the pond to the main road
with his hand in his pocket whistling Shoo fly. He wished he felt like
whistling; but he didn't.

"Now," said Dan in a gay tone, "I'll go across lots. We'd better not be
seen together, somebody might guess where we'd been," and off he ran,
springing over a stone wall at one bound, and was soon out of sight.

Jimmy did not feel like running. There was a heavy load at his heart
which grew heavier every minute. Nothing could be lovelier than the
scene around him. The trees were laden with blossoms which filled the
air with their fragrance; the birds were twittering in the branches,
the long shadows fell, over the smooth green grass, the little ants by
the wayside were hurrying with another load to their houses of sand;
but Jimmy noticed nothing of all these beauties. Indeed he could not
see very well, for his eyes had tears in them, which he tried to wipe
away.

A little dog ran out from a house and barked joyfully when he saw who
it was; but though Jimmy often had a game with him, now he only said:

"Go away, Gip," and Gip, gazing wonderingly in his face, saw that
something was the matter and followed him meekly, with his tail between
his legs.

"I wish I dared tell mother," Jimmy said softly.

At this, Gip gave a joyful bark, "Bow-wow-bow!"

Jimmy though he felt so sorrowful, could not help smiling. It sounded
so much like saying, "I would, I would."

"No, old fellow, it wouldn't do. I must manage somehow without telling
her."

At this Gip did not answer at all; but when the boy, after a timid
glance around, crept carefully over the wall at the bottom of the
garden, he flew after him, and seizing his coat tried to make him go
back, barking as loud as he could.

"Go home!" said Jimmy, in a subdued tone which he tried to make stern.
"Go home, sir," pointing over the wall.

Poor Gip obeyed after one reproachful glance in the boy's face. Was
there to be no frolic after all?

Then the boy, keeping close to the wall, made his way quickly toward
the barn, intending to pass through it on his way, to the house. He was
glad that no one was in sight, and was just darting into the door when
Ralph saw him.



CHAPTER II.

WHAT HAPPENED NEXT.

IT was such an unusual event for Jimmy to be absent from school that
the teacher requested Ralph to go a few hundred rods out of his way,
and inquire whether her scholar was sick.

When he reached the house the girl in the kitchen told him that Mr. and
Mrs. Dodge were away, and would not be home till bedtime. She said she
didn't know whether Jimmy went with them; but she supposed he did, if
he had not been at school.

"All right!" said Ralph. "I'll tell teacher in the morning; or he can
tell her himself."

But as he was leaving the house he saw his schoolmate stealing like a
thief into the barn; and he at once concluded it was all wrong. This
was what made him shout as he did. "I wouldn't be you, Jimmy Dodge, for
the biggest kite I ever saw."

Then, little imagining how he had set Jimmy's poor sore heart thumping
against his side, he ran gaily home laughing as he went.

The first thing Jimmy noticed on entering the barn was that the horse
was not in his stall; but perhaps his father or the hired man was using
it in the field. He walked along into the carriage house. The buggy was
gone too. He gave a start of pleasure, perhaps his father and mother
were absent; but "what did Ralph mean? Does he know where I've been?
Did he tell Ellen anything about me?"

With a bolder step, but still carrying his burden, he walked into the
hencoop, took five eggs from the nest, put them carefully into his hat
and went into the kitchen.

Ellen was busy getting supper and at first scarcely noticed him; but
presently she asked laughing:

"Where have you been, Master Truant?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, the blood rushing to his face.

"Why the teacher sent here to know where you'd been!"

"Who did she send by?" asked Jimmy, though he knew very well already.

"Ralph Lane. He said the teacher was afraid you were sick."

"Oh, that was some of Ralph's nonsense! He knew I was there just as
well as you do."

"Nonsense or not; he'd have given your mother a pretty fright if she
had been here," exclaimed Ellen laughing heartily as she went on
moulding her biscuit and getting it ready for the oven.

A minute more and she had forgotten all about it. "Oh dear!" she said,
"I do wish I had some short wood. My biscuit will never bake with this
long stuff."

Jimmy was immensely relieved; or he thought he was, by this favorable
turn in his affairs, and was very glad to do Ellen a favor.

"I'll get you some wood," he said cheerfully; and he ran to the shed
where she presently heard him chopping with a will.

"I'll tell your mother what a good boy you've been," said the girl
running out for an armful. "Now I'll have supper ready in a jiffy."

When the bell rang, Dexter came in; and they all sat down together.
Finding Jimmy in an obliging mood the man said:

"I wish you'd get up the cows from the pasture. I've got a job in the
garden I want to finish before I milk."

"Well, I will," answered Jimmy; "and I'll get in the chickens too."

"He's awful good-natured," thought Ellen as she saw him trudge off
whistling, with a stick in his hand. "I hope he isn't going to die, or
any such thing; but it looks dangerous to have a boy so terribly good
all at once."

Jimmy was usually what would be called a good boy; that is, he obeyed
his father and mother, and was obliging, and good tempered; but when
his parents were away, he generally claimed the right to employ himself
as he chose, feeling rather "big" as Ellen laughingly expressed it.

If he had come home from school with nothing on his conscience he would
probably have rushed into the kitchen, exclaiming:

"I want my supper right away. I'm going to fly my kite; and I can't
wait."

If Ellen was busy or did not wish to attend to him at the minute, he
would run to the pantry, get a handful of doughnuts, or a slice of
gingerbread, and be off to his play.

Jimmy did not hurry in his walk. He had made up his mind not to play.
He did not feel exactly like it. He had a question to settle in his own
mind; and he was glad to be alone. As he walked slowly on toward the
pasture, he asked himself:

"Did I tell Ellen a lie? I didn't say I was at school."

"She understood you to say so," answered conscience. "She did not
remember the words; but she supposed Ralph's call was a foolish joke;
and that the teacher knew nothing about it."

"If she is stupid I am not to blame," said Jimmy stopping short and
gazing in the dirt. "I don't believe 'twas a lie 'cause I didn't say
I'd been to school; but I wish Ralph had minded his own business and
not come here."

He had to pass by Gip's house; and the dog hearing his step rushed out
again. Jimmy usually welcomed him with a hearty, "Well, old fellow,"
patting his head as the affectionate creature jumped on him or licked
his hand; but now he felt as though Gip knew he had done wrong. Gip had
seen him steal like a thief over the wall, and had tried to make him go
back, and enter the yard like an honest boy. He was glad Gip could not
tell what he knew.

At first he thought he wouldn't notice the dog, at all; but the
faithful creature seemed so delighted to see him again that he couldn't
help it; and so he invited Gip to go with him for the cows.



CHAPTER III.

DANIEL AND HIS FATHER—A TROUBLED CONSCIENCE.

IN the meantime what has become of Daniel?

When he reached home he found his father at work on a patch of ground
behind the house and his older brother cleaning fish in the stoop.

"Where have you been, you young scamp?" inquired Mr. Crawson, sternly
gazing at his son.

"To school, sir," was the prompt reply.

"Where were you at recess? I was going by, and stopped to speak to you;
but you were not in the playground."

"Oh!" murmured Daniel in some confusion, "I didn't know my lesson, and
I had to stay in. Teacher kept me an hour after school to get it and
recite it."

"I should like to know what you go to school for; but to get your
lessons? If I hear of such conduct again I'll take you away mighty
quick. I'm not going to slave myself going of errands to have you
lounging away your time over your books. Now go right into the house
and change your clothes, and help Amos about those fish. Every one of
'em has got to be cleaned, and salted down in the tubs before supper.
Don't be gone a minute if you know what is good for yourself," shouted
his father, as he saw an ugly pout on the boy's face.

"I'll be just as long as I please," muttered Daniel between his teeth,
"and I wont clean many fish you'd better believe."

But though. Daniel was angry that he had been questioned, and that he
had been set to the business which he specially disliked, though he
muttered over and over that he would not be ordered about by anybody;
yet he knew too well what would happen if he did not obey. He therefore
kicked off his shoes, threw his school pants across the room, and
dressed himself for work without any unnecessary delay.

Amos Crawson was fifteen years old; and Daniel, eleven. They did not
agree very well either at their work or play.

"There's your part," said Amos pointing to a large pile separate from
the other.

"I wont do all those," growled Dan, casting a glance over the fence
toward his father.

Amos only laughed.

"My knife is awful dull; I shall never get done with this old thing."

"Sharpen his knife, Amos," said Mr. Crawson sternly; "the steel is on
the window sill."

The first, fish was only half cleaned when Daniel screamed and held up
his finger where there was a slight cut.

"I can't do any more, it smarts so," he said in a sulky tone.

"Very well, mine will be done presently," said Amos beginning to
whistle.

"Mother, I want a rag. I've cut my finger," shouted Dan at the foot of
the stairs.

"Get one then. You know where they are," said his mother.

Tearing off a piece of cloth from a bundle in the drawer, the boy
presently made his appearance on the stoop holding his cut finger with
his well hand.

"You think you've got off finely; but I guess you're mistaken," said
Amos, jerking his brother's elbow with a disagreeable laugh.

"I shan't touch one of them fish with my sore finger."

"What'll you bet?" queried Amos, glancing in his brother's face with a
sneer.

"Boys you'd better be at work than to spend your time jabbering," said
Mr. Crawson sternly.

"Where were you going with Jimmy Dodge?" whispered Amos with another
laugh. "Down to the pond to get your lessons on the boat, hey?"

Daniel started to his feet, his face growing very red, and caught the
knife in a hurry. Notwithstanding his cut, he threw one fish after
another into the basket behind him, while Amos laughed, and shook his
sides.

"That's something like," exclaimed his father, leaning his hoe against
the fence and coming to the stoop. "Amos bring me the salt. Dan, you're
a smart chap, if you only set about a thing in earnest. Now we'll have
'em out of the way in ten minutes."

"Hold on there, wife?" as he heard the supper bell. "I can't leave this
'ere job."

Mrs. Crawson had a good supper of fried fish and fried potatoes ready
for them, of which the family partook with a relish, talking and
laughing meanwhile. Daniel did not talk nor laugh. He was wondering why
Amos had not told his father what he had seen, and what the old man, as
he called his father, would do to him, if he knew that he had played
truant again; been out in the boat and lied about it.

"What's the matter?" whispered Amos punching his brother under the
table.

"Nothing," muttered Dan. "You just let me alone."

"You needn't be so cross. Water don't agree with you, does it?"

"Don't!" plead Daniel. "I'll give yer my jack knife if yer'll keep
quiet."

Amos laughed and nodded as a token that he accepted the bargain, and
presently they rose from the table.

"Get the wheelbarrow, boys; and carry off those weeds. I'm going to
finish the sarse-garden if it don't get too dark. You must do up the
rest of the chores. Amos, you feed the horse well, and scrape up that
fish offal for the chickens."

It was nearly nine before Daniel went up into the rough attic chamber
where he and his brother slept. He was out of sorts, and ready to
quarrel with anybody. This was not the first nor the twentieth time
that he had played truant, and told lies to cover his sin. His
conscience had often plead with him to confess to his parents, and
begin to do better; but as he had never heeded the still small voice,
it now seldom troubled him. But Amos had seen him going toward the
pond, and had shrewdly guessed the rest. He was angry that he had been
obliged to give up his new jack knife, a present from his cousin on his
birth-day. Perhaps Amos would not keep to the bargain after all, and
then he knew what there would be to pay.

Daniel shivered. He could almost hear the leather strap whiz through
the air. The old man believed in whipping bad boys; and he had not a
very light hand, as his two sons well knew.

Daniel threw off his clothes and stretched himself on the bed; but he
could hear Amos laughing and talking to their mother in his coarse
voice, and he could not sleep.

"I don't think boating pays," he said at last; "though we did have a
good time; but there's always such a fuss."



CHAPTER IV.

ANOTHER LIE.

POOR Jimmy, how he dreaded to go up to his room and be alone with
his wicked heart. He had a good father and mother who had taught him
God's holy laws. As long as it was light, and he could busy himself
about work, it was not so bad; but when he took from Ellen the little
night-lamp, and walked slowly up to his neat chamber, he could not help
sighing repeatedly.

"I wish I hadn't met Daniel," he said half aloud. "'Twas his fault and
not mine. I should have gone to school and never thought of such a
thing."

He stopped short in its undressing and listened. The voice sounded in
his ears so plain:

"My son, if sinners entice thee consent thou not."

This was his last Sunday's verse, and his teacher had explained it to
the class. "Yes," faltered poor Jimmy, starting at the shadow his light
threw of the bedpost. "Yes, Daniel is a bad boy 'cause he tells awful
lies, and he swears too. He is a sinner. He enticed me to go to the
pond, and I did consent. I wish I hadn't. I wish I'd said no, I must
go to school. Then I shouldn't have had to tell a lie. I suppose 'tis
a real lie 'cause Ellen thinks I went. I'm awful sorry. I wish I dared
tell mother; but she'd cry so, and then she'd think I'm worse than I
am, 'cause I never played truant before; and I haven't told any lies,
not real ones. No, I daren't tell her. Ellen will forget all about
Ralph before to-morrow."

Jimmy had been taught to kneel by his bedside before he retired, and
ask God to forgive his sins of the past day, to help him be a good
child, and to take care of him while he was asleep. Never since he
could remember had one night passed in which he had not done this,
though often his heart was not in his petitions. What was it now that
made him hesitate, and finally conclude not to pray this once?

It was the voice of conscience saying, "You are a very wicked boy; you
are growing worse every minute. You know you ought to confess your sins
to God, and then to your mother. How dare you ask your Father in heaven
to bless and keep you, when you are not sorry for having offended him?"

Jimmy jumped into bed, covered the clothes over his head, resolved not
to think any more about the sail on the pond; but it was a long time
before he fell asleep.

All this happened on Tuesday. Friday noon Daniel met Jimmy accompanied
by Gip, as he was going an errand for his mother, and said:

"S'posing we go sailing again. I want to get some lilies; and I know
where I can get a cent apiece for 'em."

[Illustration: "I DON'T KNOW AS I SHALL GO."]

"If you'll go, I'll share half with you."

"Does your father say you may have the boat?"

Daniel nodded his head, and went on explaining how they would manage.
"We shall have to sail out farther than we did last time. The lilies
are thick at the other end; and I want to start half an hour before
school begins, can't you get away somehow?"

"I don't know as I shall go," faltered Jimmy, looking down at Gip. "I
don't believe mother'll let me leave school."

"Bother the school," exclaimed Dan. "I don't believe in keeping boys
studying all the time. If I were you, I wouldn't say a word to my
mother about it. You got off real slick last Tuesday."

"I'm afraid teacher'll send Ralph Lane again to know why I wasn't at
school."

"Oh, that was rich! Ralph told me about it, and how he saw you skulking
round the barn. How did you get off with the teacher?"

"I managed," said Jimmy, ashamed to confess even to this wicked boy
that he had told an out and out lie, as he himself had to call it; and
tell his kind teacher that he went on a visit with his mother.

"Well," urged Daniel, "you can manage again. If you don't want to go,
say so, and not be fooling all day about it. There's enough fellows
would be glad of the chance to go and earn two or three dollars by
selling lilies."

"Two or three dollars, I didn't know 'twould be so much. I'll guess,
I'll go."

"I thought you wouldn't be such a fool as to refuse. Be sure and come
to the pond by half past one; and then we can get home by the time
school is out."

Jimmy ate his dinner in haste, and then asked his mother to let him go,
and play with George Rust till school time.

Mrs. Dodge parted the hair from her boy's forehead with a loving smile,
said, softly; "You grow more like your father every day;" and then
added, "yes, dear, but don't play too hard and get hurt."

"Oh, no!" answered Jimmy and ran away.

He reached the pond some minutes before his companion, and after quite
a tussle with his conscience had just made up his mind to go back to
school, when he saw Daniel come over the wall down to the boat.

"Father's gone off with a load of fish," he said laughing; "and he wont
be home till evening."

"I thought you said he gave you leave to take the boat."

"I didn't say any such thing; I only did so," nodding his head.

"Well that's just the same thing. You told a lie any way."

"You're a pretty fellow to preach about lying," shouted Daniel growing
angry. "I should like to know how many lies you told last Tuesday. If
you dare to open your head to me again about lying, I'll go and tell
your mother all about it."

Daniel's face was as red and fierce as a fighting cock, and poor Jimmy
fairly trembled; presently he said humbly:

"I'm sorry I came. I'll go home now if you want me to."

"No, I don't! We're in for it, and we'd better be sailing."



CHAPTER V.

THE DISTRACTED MOTHER.

JIMMY got into the boat, and took his seat at the end as Daniel
directed; but the smell of the fish made him very sick. On the other
occasion Mr. Crawson had washed the boat and left it to dry in the sun,
now it was just as he had left it after throwing his load into his
cart, for he was in a hurry to carry his fish to market.

They rowed directly to the farther end of the pond and succeeded in
getting a large quantity of lilies, which they stowed in under the
seats; but Jimmy had wet his clothes, having been obliged to lean over
and pick the flowers while Daniel kept the boat in place.

About half the afternoon was spent by the time they had gathered all
they could carry; and they set out on their return. Daniel hoping to
dispose of his at the car station if he could reach it in season.

"We shall each have a good many hundred," said Jimmy in a gay tone.

"I don't know about that. I ought to have the most. It's my boat, and I
do the rowing."

"But I picked 'em all. You said we should share alike."

"Well, I don't mean to," exclaimed Dan angrily. "I'll give you a
hundred for your share. I'm going to sell the rest whether or no."

"I don't think that's fair;" faltered Jimmy "You said you'd give me two
or three dollars."

"I don't care what I said. If you make any more fuss I wont give you
one. Here I am running away from school and taking the risk of getting
an awful whipping just to oblige you with a ride in the boat, and you a
whining all the way like a baby."

"Oh, Daniel, what a wicked boy you are to talk so! My mother wouldn't
let me stay here a minute with such an awful liar."

"Take that, will yer," shouted Dan beside himself with rage, striking
Jimmy on the head with the oar.

The boat left to itself for the moment swayed around, and almost
upset. When Dan had with considerable akin brought it too, he saw his
companion lying at the bottom pale and senseless.

Dan started upon his feet and stood a moment paralysed with fear; then
he seized the oars, and fearing he knew not what, made all haste to the
shore; but when he reached the landing, Jimmy had given no sign of life.

"Oh what shall I do? I'm afraid he's dead!" Then he stooped down and
tried to rouse him, crying again:

"Oh, I wish somebody would come!"

As if in answer to his call his father stood before him.

"So this is the way you attend to your lessons, you young rascal!"
began Mr. Crawson seizing hold of his boy, his voice hoarse with
passion, when seeing the unconscious form at the bottom of the boat, he
dropped his hold exclaiming, "What is this? Why the child is dead!"

Daniel's face blanched with horror; and he covered his eyes to shut out
the sight.

"Now," said Mr. Crawson speaking each word slowly that it might have
full effect, "Tell me the whole truth, or I'll carry you to prison, and
give you up to the gallows."

"Yes," he said to himself; "I will, if it kills me."

"I —I didn't think 'twould hurt him much. He wanted half the lilies;
and I got angry, and struck him with the oar."

Not one word in reply. Mr. Crawson pulled the boat farther up on the
sand, stooped down, and raised the senseless child in his arms.

There was a low moan at which Dan was so relieved that he burst into a
loud cry.

"Keep quiet, will you?" said his father, for the moment forgetting his
anger. "Perhaps he isn't hurt so much as I thought. He's in a dead
swoon, and he oughter be got home."

"I'll run and call somebody."

"No, you take his feet, there steady now; we'll get him up the bank to
the road, may be somebody'll happen along."

No one was in sight, however; but after waiting a minute there was the
sound of wheels at a distance.

"It's the Doctor's buggy," said Daniel softly.

"So 'tis."

The old physician was hurrying by, when Mr. Crawson shouted:

"Stop, Doctor! stop! You're wanted!"

"Why, what has happened? Jimmy Dodge, hurt! How's that?"

"If you'll take the boy home, I'll be there about as soon as you are."

Jimmy groaned as they lifted him into the buggy. Then Mr. Crawson
turned the horse's head, for the Doctor's arm was engaged holding the
unconscious child; and they slowly started for Mr. Dodge's house.

It so happened that a gentleman belonging to the School Committee
visited the school to which both Daniel and Jimmy belonged. Having
listened to their recitations, he praised them for diligence and good
order; but remarked that he was sorry to see so many seats vacant. He
made an interesting address to the scholars, taking for his text the
motto Dickens gave the boys on board the school-ship. "Boys, do all the
good you can, and don't make a fuss about it." Then as it was too late
to resume the recitations he dismissed them.

Miss Reynolds felt annoyed that Jimmy Dodge the best reader in his
class should have been absent. She resolved to go at once, and tell
his mother how important it was that the children should be regular in
their attendance.

Mrs. Dodge was well acquainted with the teacher, and loved her for her
faithfulness to Jimmy. She received her with great cordiality, and then
asked; "Where is Jimmy? Why didn't he come with you?"

Miss Reynolds looked surprised. "I came," she said, "to ask you where
he is. I am afraid he will lose his interest in his studies if he is
absent so often."

"Why, I don't think he has been absent or tardy this term," remarked
the mother, in an excited tone.

"There is some mistake about this, Mrs. Dodge. On Tuesday afternoon,
our time for general exercises, when I specially missed him, Jimmy was
absent. I sent Ralph Lane here to inquire whether he was detained by
sickness, in which case I do not give a check. The next morning Jimmy
told me himself that he went out of town with you."

"Oh, my son!" exclaimed the mother, a pang seizing her heart.

"Again this afternoon he was not in his place, which I regretted
exceedingly as we had a visit from Mr. Comer."

"Let me think a minute. Jimmy went away directly after dinner, having
asked permission to play with George Rust. Was George at school?"

"Yes."

"Where can my boy be? Oh, Jimmy, I trusted you so entirely, how could
you deceive me!"

"He has probably fallen in with some bad associate who has enticed him
away."

"But who, Miss Reynolds? Was any other boy absent?"

"Now I think of it, Daniel Crawson was away both on Tuesday and to-day;
but he plays truant so often I never thought of Jimmy in connection
with him."

"Oh, I hope not! he is a profane, wicked boy, and his father is—"

"Oh, Miss Reynolds, the pond! What if Jimmy has gone out in Mr.
Crawson's boat! What shall I do? I must send at once."



CHAPTER VI.

THE SENSELESS BOY.

MRS. DODGE left the room in great distress, and at the same moment the
Doctor's old buggy drove into the yard.

Mr. Dodge was leading his horse to the trough in the yard and came
hurrying forward to ascertain the Doctor's errand.

"What! Why!" he cried in sudden alarm. "Who have you there? Not our
Jimmy!"

"Yes, it's Jimmy. I don't know yet how much he is hurt. Mr. Crawson is
just behind. He'll hold the horse's head while you lift him out, my arm
is rather cramped."

"Mother," screamed Mr. Dodge scarcely knowing what he did.

Mrs. Dodge came rushing down the steps, her face frightfully pale, her
arms extended toward her poor erring boy.

"Is he drowned?" The words forced themselves through her white lips.

"When we get him on the bed, I'll explain," said Mr. Crawson his face
working with emotion.

"Now I'll tell the truth," added the man, "though it carries my own boy
to prison for life."

The Doctor was bending over the child with his ear to the silent chest,
while Mrs. Dodge forcibly suppressing her groans, held her boy's limp
hand, kissing it again and again.

"Daniel and he," pointing to the bed, "were in my boat. They had a
quarrel about some lilies they had gathered. Daniel has a hot temper,
and he struck Jimmy on the head with his oar. If he's killed him, why—"

He could say no more, his face was convulsed with emotion, he went
quickly out of the house.

The Doctor after some farther examination ordered an application of
ice to the head, and insisted upon perfect quiet. He left powders to
be administered once in two or three hours and went away, promising to
return soon.

"Will he live?" asked Mr. Crawson who had been waiting near the buggy.

"Can't tell. 'Twas a cruel blow. I'm afraid to think of the result.
Good day, sir."

For a moment Mr. Crawson stood as though stupefied. He had not been a
tender father. He had been brought up roughly himself and had always
repelled his sons. But now that Daniel, his favorite, was threatened
with danger, his affection burned fiercely; and at the same time his
conscience reproached him with neglecting his duty to his boy.

"I wont flinch from what's the right thing to do though," he said
clinching his hard hands, so back he went to the door and requested
Ellen to call Mr. Dodge.

"You know where to find us if wanted," he faltered. "I'll be surety
that he don't run away."

The stricken father bowed assent. He had not the most distant idea of
his neighbor's meaning.

Oh, how true the Bible is when it says, "the way of transgressors is
hard!" How much suffering not only to themselves but to those connected
with them, did these two boys bring about by their disobedience,
deceit, truancy and falsehood!

What do you suppose, my little reader, was the most dreadful reflection
of the poor mother, as she bent over her boy? It was that her Jimmy had
been guilty of so much sin against God.

"Spare his life, Oh my father! Spare him to repent!" was her constant
though silent cry. "Take him not away in wrath. Spare him for Christ's
sake."

Two hours later when the Doctor came again, Jimmy had roused from his
lethargy; but did not recognise any one. His flesh was burning with
fever, and occasionally he uttered a shriek of distress. Every symptom
was unfavorable; and the Doctor, though kind and sympathetic could not
give the stricken parents one word of hope.

Leaving his wife weeping by the bed side, Mr. Dodge followed the
physician to the door.

"This suspense is terrible," he gasped. "It would be better to know the
worst at once."

"Leave the result with God, my afflicted friend."

"I try to do that, but cannot you give me—"

"Would you have his life at the sacrifice of his reason," asked the
Doctor interrupting him. Then without another word he got into his
buggy, and drove away.

It was near midnight when Ellen, too anxious to sleep, took her lamp,
and went to fasten the back door. She started to see a man standing
there, but presently recognised Mr. Crawson.

"How is he?" asked the husky voice.

"Very bad indeed!" shrieking and crying out; "Don't, Dan! I wouldn't do
so! You said your father gave you leave. I think I ought to have half
the lilies. No, I don't think mother would like it if she knew I was
here."

Mr. Crawson groaned and turned away.

At home, poor Daniel sobbing and trembling with fear, had confessed to
his father every thing that had occurred; how he hated study and had
taken every opportunity to play truant; how he had robbed bird's nests,
and used the boat many times without permission;—how he had enticed
Jimmy on Tuesday, and again on that fatal day;—how Jimmy had made him
angry by reproving him for lying; how he had charged the same upon
Jimmy;—and how ashamed the poor boy looked;—and at last how frightened
he was after he had struck the terrible blow.

Then when Mr. Crawson instead of being angry gazed into his face with
an expression of anguish, such as he had never seen there before,
Daniel fell on his knees at his father's feet, exclaiming:

"Oh, don't look like that! Whip me. I'll bring the strap; but oh don't
look so! I'd never have been naughty in all the world if I'd known
'twould make you feel so bad."

"Daniel, my boy, what do you suppose I'm thinking of?"

"I can't tell, father."

"I'm thinking if I'd been a better man myself, and brought you up
right, this never would have happened. Whatever comes of this, and you
oughter to know there's danger afore yer, I shall allus feel the dagger
here," bringing a crushing blow against his own heart.

The penitent boy burst into a fresh cry, and leaving the kitchen ran up
to his chamber in the attic.

"I wouldn't take on so," said Amos trying to speak in a sympathizing
tone. "I'd come to bed, and try to forget it."



CHAPTER VII.

FORGIVENESS.

"I DON'T know what Mr. Dodge will do," said Mr. Crawson to his wife
when the boy had left the room. "I know what I should have done if it
had been my boy that was hurt so. I'd have taken the fellow that did
it, and if the law wouldn't punish him, I'd have thrashed him within
an inch of his life. But the law will. There's no doubt about that. I
never can live here disgraced, so there's an end of it!"

Mrs. Crawson was sobbing, frightened at her husband's fierce looks.

"They say Mr. Dodge is a church member," she began timidly, "and
perhaps he'll remember Daniel is only a boy."

"When he does that I shall think there's some reality in religion,"
answered the man scornfully. "But," he added instantly, "I should ha'
done it myself. It's no use to be angry. I can't sleep and so I may as
well go back."

This was the time he saw Ellen.

"Oh Dan! Oh, my poor boy!" groaned the man turning away into the
darkness.

Two more days of dreadful suspense followed. Another physician from
the Hospital in the city near by had visited the poor boy, but did not
change the course of treatment.

When the fever was at its height poor Jimmy talked incessantly.
Sometimes he thought himself at school and repeated a few words of an
old lesson in a loud voice. Then he was at home talking to his father
or Dexter. Once he began a prayer, but stopped short with a cry of
distress, and then added; "God wont hear liars!" This was succeeded by
a loud unmeaning laugh.

Every word cut his mother's heart as with a knife. Still her constant
cry to her merciful Father was:

"Spare! spare, for thy Son's sake! Give back his reason, and spare for
repentance!"

At the close of the third day there seemed a change. The poor child lay
more quiet. No one could tell whether the symptom was a favorable one.
The afflicted family had repeated visits from their clergyman. As he
was leaving the last time he asked:

"Have you seen Mr. Crawson? I never saw a man so changed. I am told he
has not once left home or allowed his son to step over the threshold
since the sad accident. He considers himself pledged to you not to let
his son escape whatever the consequences may be."

"I remember nothing of that," remarked Mr. Dodge. "I sincerely pity
him."

Not more than an hour later there was another call to Mr. Dodge from
the bedside of his sick, perhaps dying child.

It was Mr. Crawson, haggard, pale and hollow-eyed.

"I can't stand it any longer," he exclaimed. "I want to know what you
intend to do to my son."

"I don't understand you, neighbor."

"I mean in case of the worst. I know I ought not to come to you in your
trouble; but I can't eat nor sleep till it's decided."

"Do you mean in regard to Daniel who struck the blow by which my son
was injured?"

"Yes."

"Does he seem penitent?"

"He's done little but cry ever since."

"Then tell him I freely forgive him as I hope God will."

Mr. Crawson reeled forward as if he had been struck.

"Do you mean to say," he gasped, "that you shan't take him up, commit
him to jail for trial?"

"I never thought of doing such a thing. Every day when I pray that God
would give me back the life of my boy, I pray that this dreadful event
may be blessed to his companion. You may tell him so. It would be in
vain for us to ask God to forgive our sins, if we did not from the
heart forgive each other."

There was a sound like a suppressed sob as Mr. Crawson without a word
turned away. Before he left the yard, he was crying aloud.

He was half way home when he met the clergyman.

"I believe it. I believe it," he exclaimed wringing the man's hand. "I
always scoffed at religion. I allus said it did for Sunday use; but it
wouldn't work for every day wear; but I believe it now; and Mr. Dodge
has got it too. I must go home and tell my poor boy."

The next day when Jimmy after a long sleep opened his eyes the light of
reason dawned in them. He gazed at his mother a moment and then smiled
a recognition.

She bent over, kissed his pale cheek and rushed from the room to give
vent to her joy and gratitude. On her knees, with her hands clasped,
did she thank the Giver of all her mercies for this last, best answer
to her prayers; for the good Doctor had told them if he woke conscious,
there would be good reason to hope. Jimmy saved, Jimmy's reason
restored, that he might repent and forsake his sins; what more had she
to ask for?

The first word the poor patient spoke was, "mother;" and before she
could stop him he said:

"I'm sick; but I can't die till I've told you how naughty I was."

"You shall tell me all, darling; but you are too weak now."

"I can't be better till I tell you; and I want you to tell God for me
how sorry I am."

Then in a few broken words he confessed his yielding to temptation, his
deceit and all his sin, and asked in a tone of great anxiety:

"Will God forgive me all that?"

"Yes, for Christ's sake he will." Then she took his hot hands and
bending over where he could hear her whispered words, she told her
heavenly Father of his sin and his sorrow, and begged for pardon in the
name of the blessed Saviour who came on earth to forgive sins.

After this Jimmy sunk into a sweet, refreshing sleep.

When the watchful Doctor came the next time, he comforted the parents
by telling them that all immediate danger was past, though he added
with a mysterious smile; "I have received orders to continue my visits
to my patient as long as I can do him any good, so you wont be rid of
me at present."



CHAPTER VIII.

THE DOCTOR'S BILL.

IT was not till some weeks later that the Doctor consented to explain
what he meant by his remark. Then rubbing his hands, which was a habit
when he was much pleased, he said:

"Crawson came to me one day and asked for my bill. He took out his
pocket-book, and urged that he had a little money by him; and it would
be more convenient to settle at once."

"'You don't owe me a cent,' I answered, a good deal astonished, 'though
I wish you did.'"

"'I mean for your attendance on little Jimmy Dodge. You know it was I
called you, and—and—there, it's no use to mince matters, Doctor. You
know it belongs to me to pay it.'"

"'But I haven't given up the case yet,' I said. I couldn't help
laughing, it was so odd for the man to be urging his hard-earned money
upon me. Upon my word I told him such a thing don't often happen to a
Doctor."

"He didn't laugh, though. He drew out a roll of bills and laid them
on the table. 'I want you to go on, of course,' he said, 'till he's
entirely well. If there isn't enough I'll bring more; and, Doctor, when
you want any fish, you've only to say so.'"

"Now," exclaimed the Doctor, bringing his hand down on the table,
"That man has a heart which I never gave him credit for. 'Twas worth a
hundred dollars to me to see his face as he went off leaving his roll
of X's on my table."

"But, Doctor," began Mr. Dodge, his face flushing:

"Don't you interrupt, you haven't heard the rest of the story. I had
a little business at the bank; and I found out that Crawson had three
hundred dollars there which he'd been gathering by the sale of his
fish. One third of the whole he'd drawn out; and this was just the sum
he brought me, when, goodness knows, if I'd made a bill it wouldn't
have been a quarter of it."

"Now friend Dodge, in my place what would you have done?" The good
Doctor's eye had a curious twinkle in it.

"I should have put the hundred dollars in the bank again, and sent my
bill to the father of the child who was hurt."

"Just what I did," exclaimed the good man, his face fairly shining.
"Crawson has his three hundred in the county bank all secure, and I've
brought my little account of attendance to you. I've had a good deal of
pay out of the job already one way and another. Remember that when you
look it over, and don't grumble at the amount."

"That I'm sure I shall not do," said Mr. Dodge. "You have been the
means under God of raising my dear Jimmy from the borders of the grave.
If you'll wait a minute I'll cash it at once."

"No! oh, no! I can't be bothered with money to-day. I must be off to
see widow Stephens' sprained ancle. Good morning, sir."

When he was out of sight, Mr. Dodge looked at the bill. The paper was
only a receipt in full for medicine and medical attendance up to the
present date.

It was no wonder that he went into the house rather excited. The
conversation had taken place while the Doctor sat in his buggy, and the
farmer stood near his barn.

Jimmy was sitting up in bed with a napkin pinned around his neck, his
eyes looking unnaturally large on account of his thin cheeks, but
otherwise better than he had done since the accident.

"Oh, this does taste so good, father!" exclaimed the boy smacking his
lips with a keen relish. "Toasted bread and pure cream, no fooling!"

"I think he gains strength every day on this diet," said his mother
laughing; "but what has happened?" noticing her husband's flushed face.

Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Dodge had ever referred to Daniel Crawson since he
was brought home, though Jimmy had confessed with bitter tears, his own
wicked conduct. The father took a seat by the bed, thinking this would
be a good opportunity to test his son's feeling toward the one who had
so severely injured him.

"You are almost well now, Jimmy," he began; "but as the vacation
commences so soon I don't think it will be best for you to go again
till fall."

"I'm so sorry, father, I shall be behind all my classes." Jimmy sighed
and then added softly: "I'm almost glad I was hurt though."

"Why, Jimmy!"

"Yes, father, mother knows all about it. I was getting to be a very
wicked boy. When I told the first lie to Ellen, after Ralph came, I was
awfully afraid: I tried to make believe it wasn't a lie; but all the
time I knew it was, because I'd made Ellen think I was at school. I
didn't pray to God that night 'cause I knew that He had heard me; and
I was afraid to promise Him that I wouldn't tell any more. You see I
had to make an excuse to the teacher. I missed almost all my lessons;
and when Miss Reynolds called me up, and looked so kindly right into my
eyes, and asked, 'where is my good, studious Jimmy Dodge?' I had to try
hard to keep from crying. Oh, father, I know now that wicked boys who
tell lies and deceive their parents can't be happy!"

"But you went again, my son." The father's voice was very sad.

"Yes, father; but I was sorry all the time. I knew you wouldn't like me
to be with a boy who swears, and tells lies, and gets angry. While I
was in the boat, I resolved that I would take my lilies and come right
home, and tell mother all about it, and ask God to help me be a good
boy. I never knew whether Daniel gave me any lilies."

"Would you like to see Daniel and ask him about it?"

"Oh no, sir, I don't care about them now! We were going to sell them
for a cent apiece. I suppose he sold his. We got ever so many."

"I don't think poor Daniel or his father thought of the lilies. They
had something else to think of."

"What was it, father?" Jimmy's large eyes were fixed eagerly on his
father's face.

"If you had died, my son, Daniel would have been a murderer."

"Did he know it?" gasped Jimmy; "Was he afraid I'd die?"

"His father came to me almost heart-broken. He supposed I should be
very angry, and that I should have his son committed to prison. He came
here of his own accord, and told me what Daniel had done, and promised
to keep guard over him that he shouldn't run away, until we could see
what the result would be.

"He came every day to inquire, though not always to the house, and told
me Daniel could scarcely eat or sleep; that he was crying all the time.
He asked me at last what I intended to do with his son?"

"Oh, father!" sobbed the sick boy. "I'm so sorry." He covered his face
and great tears rolled down his cheeks. Presently he said, "I've been
thinking a great deal about Daniel. I knew he'd be sorry; but I didn't
think he'd feel so very bad. You know I had been wicked as well as
he. I meant to write him a letter as soon as I got out of bed and ask
mother to send it. Don't you think I could write it now?"

"Your mother knows best whether you are strong enough. Mr. Crawson
confessed that if it were his son who was hit such a cruel blow, he
would have gone to the full extent of the law to have the guilty one
punished. What do you think as a Christian man I ought to have said to
him, when he asked me what I should do?"

Jimmy started up in bed in great excitement.

"Oh, I want to see Daniel," he cried, "I do! I do!"

"What for, Jimmy?"

"I would put my arms round his neck and kiss him. If he is so sorry, I
think he'd do what I wanted; and I should ask him to try with me to be
a good boy, and not to tell lies any more. Oh father! what if he should
break off playing truant, and taking his father's boat without leave,
wouldn't it be splendid?"

There was a tear in Mr. Dodge's eye as he answered:

"Yes, indeed, my son."

"I feel real strong, mother, can't I be dressed and write a letter?"

"You may rest a little while, and then take my portfolio into your lap."



CHAPTER IX.

THE BLUE FISH.

WOULD you like to hear what Jimmy wrote? It was this.

  "DEAR DANIEL:"
     "I am a great deal better. I eat bread and cream
   every day; and I like it very much. Dear Daniel,
   I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I acted so bad,
   and told so many lies, and ran away from school.
   I have asked God to forgive me for Jesus Christ's
   sake; and I think he will. Mother says He always
   does forgive boys when He sees they are really
   penitent. I have thought a great deal about you;
   and I don't want you to think I'm angry because
   you struck me. It made me sick at first; but I am
   rather glad of it now, because if I hadn't got hurt
   I might have gone on growing worse and worse. Mother
   says, our Father in heaven often does allow his
   children to get into trouble, to let them see that
   the Bible is true, when it says: 'The way of
   transgressors is hard.' So you see it was good for
   me to be hurt. Dear Daniel, I love you dearly.
   I knew you'd be sorry. I thank your father for being
   so kind to me. Will you please ask him to let you
   come with me to Sunday school when I get well;
   and we'll learn to be good boys together?"

     "Teacher came to see me a good many times; but I
   was too sick to know it. I'll never play truant
   again."
                       "YOUR FRIEND, JIMMY DODGE."

Dexter was very glad to oblige his young friend by carrying this letter
to Mr. Crawson's.

"What have you there, Dan?" asked his father the same evening, as he
saw his son slily wiping his eyes while trying to read a paper.

The lad passed Jimmy's letter without a word, his lip quivering as he
did so.

"Give me my specs, Amos.—There, on the end of the mantel."

He lead the writing from the top to the bottom of the page, coughing a
good deal and clearing his throat at the last, while Daniel watched him
closely. It was full five minutes before he spoke. He sat holding the
letter, gazing straight before him. Then he said abruptly:

"I went out in the large boat and caught a blue fish to-day. I think
there'll be more to-morrow. If you've a mind, Dan, you may get up and
go with me to Buzzard's point. May be we can find something that will
taste as good as the bread and cream Jimmy tells about. When you go
there, you tell him your father says you may go to Sunday school and
welcome."

"I'd like that firstrate, father. I'll go to bed now so as to be up
in season." He folded the letter carefully and put it in the drawer.
He wanted to say that he had resolved to turn over a new leaf; but he
had not the courage. As he was reluctantly leaving the room he caught
the eye of his father fixed full upon him, with an expression of such
yearning tenderness that he sprang forward and clasped his arms round
his father's neck and kissed him.

Never since he could remember had he given such an embrace; but it did
them both good. There was a sob, and then a laugh in which all in the
room joined. Mr. Crawson held the boy off at arms-length and looked at
him with a smile. Never had their hearts been drawn together as now.

As Amos and his brother left the room Amos said with a sneer:

"I guess I'll try murdering folks, and see whether dad'll cosset me up.
Bah, it makes me sick!"

[Illustration: DANIEL AND AMOS FISHING.]

"Amos," called out Mr. Crawson, "I told you to get up and work in the
garden; but you may go with us if you'd rather. I aren't agoing to have
my boys think I'm partial to ary one."

The next day when Mrs. Dodge went to the kitchen she found a large blue
fish, nicely dressed for cooking; lying on a platter.

"Daniel Crawson brought it," Ellen said laughing, "and he'd got another
one for the Doctor. He said they were alive this morning. He caught
them himself. Oh, there's a little paper too."

She took from her pocket a soiled piece of paper which seemed to have
been torn from a book. On it was written with a pencil:

     "Father says I may go to Sunday school. I never
   was sorrier in all my life. I never prayed afore,
   but that night I did ask God to forgive me. I'm sick
   of being such a bad boy. If you'll help me be good,
   you shall have all the fish you want."
                               "DANIEL CRAWSON."

Not long after this Miss Reynolds called at Mr. Dodge's to inquire
about her scholar. The vacation was near, and she was intending to
leave the town for eight weeks.

Jimmy was almost well now, though he looked very pale and thin. After
some conversation with Mrs. Dodge about his studies, the boy put his
hand into his teacher's and said timidly:

"I'm glad you came; I've been wanting to tell you something. I told a
lie when I said I went with mother. Will you please to forgive me?"

"Yes, my dear Jimmy," she answered putting her arm around him. "I think
you have learned a lesson you will never forget. Solomon tells us in
the Bible that, 'wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness and all her
paths are peace.'"

"Yes, ma'am; and I never was so unhappy as after I began to be wicked."

"How about Daniel Crawson?" she asked earnestly. "He has been very
regular at school lately, and studies as if he meant to make up for
lost time."

"Oh, I'm so glad! He's going to Sunday school too. His father has given
him leave."

"Yes;" added Mrs. Dodge, "and I can tell you something more. Mr.
Crawson has hired a pew in the side aisle, and told your father he
intended to go to church himself. He has not been for fifteen years. He
says he's seen occasion to change his mind about religion, and if it
isn't too late he means to try and get it himself."

Mrs. Dodge urged the teacher to stay to tea; but as she could not, the
lady brought in a saucer of raspberries with sugar and delicious sweet
cream.

Miss Reynolds said it was years since she had enjoyed such a treat.
After she had eaten the fruit, she went away, telling Jimmy to get up a
good stock of health so as to be able to study hard in the autumn.



CHAPTER X.

JIMMY'S PLAN.

ONE evening in July Jimmy sat on a cricket with his head in his
mother's lap. The day had been very sultry; but now there was a
pleasant breeze which wafted the sweet fragrance of the honey-suckle
to the porch where they were seated. From the meadow came the sound of
the bull frogs croaking their evening song, while every now and then
a cricket chirped out a chorus. Jimmy had now nearly recovered his
health, though any unusual exertion brought on a return of the pain in
his head.

It was a great relief therefore to his parents, that the long summer
vacation would give their boy an opportunity to gain strength.

Mr. Dodge soon joined them accompanied by their pastor whom he met
coming to make a call. Jimmy's head ached; but his mother's hand,
passing softly across his forehead, soothed the pain; so he sat quiet,
and listened to the conversation.

"I have been to see Mr. Crawson," began the clergyman, "and I am very
much pleased with what he says of himself."

"That man's heart is in the right place," responded Mr. Dodge warmly.
He then repeated the story of Mr. Crawson's having drawn a hundred
dollars from the brink to pay the Doctor's bill, and how the good,
generous man had returned the money.

Jimmy had never heard the story before, and was very much affected by
it. He knew that Mr. Crawson worked very hard to earn enough to support
his family; and that his sons never had a cent to spend for sports.
Then his father went on to state how the Doctor had brought him a
receipted bill, adding:

"I could not offend the good man by not accepting it; but I shall watch
a chance to do him a favor."

The clergyman staid some time; but Jimmy heard nothing more. An idea
had flashed into his mind; and he wanted to be alone to think it over.

"I'll go to bed now," he whispered to his mother, and she answered,
"Very well, dear. I'll go to your chamber as soon as the pastor has
gone."

It was almost an hour later when the company left, so that she could
attend to Jimmy. She hoped and expected he would be asleep; but on
entering his room with a light in her hand, she saw that his eyes were
wide open, and there was a crimson spot on either cheek.

"Why, Jimmy, are you sick, darling?" she asked quickly.

"No, mother; but I've got a plan. I hope you and father will be
willing."

The lady bent down and kissed him. He looked very beautiful; his soft
wavy hair falling over his white forehead, his deep, earnest eyes; but
still there was something in his countenance which made her heart ache.
Just so his baby sister had looked before God took her to heaven.

"Do you think father would sell his buggy?" the child went on. "I heard
him tell Mr. Morse it was too narrow for him, and that was the reason
he bought the carryall. Now the buggy has been standing in the barn a
long time, and he don't use it but once in a great while."

Mrs. Dodge laughed, but he seemed so earnest that she went to the head
of the stairs and called out:

"Husband, come up here a minute. Here is a boy wants to know if you
will sell your buggy."

"Who wants it, Jimmy?"

"I do. Oh, father, please don't laugh. I've been thinking of a plan. I
don't want Mr. Crawson to take his money out of the bank for me. If I
hadn't been a bad, disobedient boy, I shouldn't have gone in the boat,
and then Daniel couldn't have hurt me. I don't want the Doctor not to
have his pay because he isn't rich, and he goes to see so many poor
people who can't give anything."

"But what has that to do with my buggy, my son?"

"I'll tell you, presently, father. You know the money grandmother gave
me; and the bank book with my name in it that's in your desk?"

"Yes, I know."

"Now, father, if you'll take the money for yours, and let me have the
buggy, and get Mr. Morse to fix it up and varnish it, then I could give
it to the Doctor instead of his old, rattling thing."

"That's a famous plan, Jimmy. I'll think about it and to-morrow I'll
tell you. Now go to sleep or you will be sick."

Mr. Dodge walked out of the room without another word; but his mother
stooped over the bed and whispered:

"You're a darling child." Then she kissed him and went away.

The next morning Jimmy heard the sound of wheels driving out of the
yard. He sprang from the bed just in time to see his father riding away
in the buggy. He dressed himself in a hurry, and ran down to ask his
mother what it meant; but she only laughed, and told him to be patient.

Just before breakfast was ready his father came back leading the horse
with the harness on him, but no carriage. After they were seated at the
table, Mr. Dodge said with a smile:

"I thought, Jimmy, you were going to buy a watch and gold chain, and a
Phi Beta Kappa medal like the minister's, and a farm, with your money
in the bank."

"Oh father!" answered the child with a blush. "That was when I was a
little boy."

"Ah indeed, that makes a difference!" said the farmer with a comical
glance at his wife; "Well I've found out that I can have the buggy
wheel mended, and the whole painted to look as well as new for twenty
dollars. So if you're inclined to make me a good offer. I think I shall
take you up."

"Will the money I have be enough," asked Jimmy anxiously.

"Let me see. There's five hundred dollars besides the interest for four
years and some little sums added. Yes, I think that will do."

"Oh, father, I'm so glad;" and Jimmy in his excitement shed tears of
joy.

He could not understand Dexter's shout of laughter, nor his mother's
whispered "Hush! I wouldn't, husband." He only knew that he was very
happy.

"What will the Doctor say?" he exclaimed joyfully. "Do you think he'll
know it is his."

A fortnight later, the good physician was called to make a visit about
two miles from home. Jimmy was out in the yard with his father when
they heard the sound of the loose wheels rattling down the hill.

"He's going away, wont it be a good time now, father?" asked the boy.

"Yes, it will."

Mr. Dodge went to the barn, harnessed the black mare, put Jimmy on
her back, and led her along to Mr. Morse's shop. The buggy looked so
bright and handsome that the little fellow scarcely knew it. Mr. Dodge
examined every part, then opened his pocket-book and counted out twenty
dollars, harnessed the mare into the carriage and drove to the Doctor's
house.

"I've got my letter all ready," Jimmy said, laughing in an excited
manner. "After we've put the buggy in the Doctor's chaise-house, I'll
pin the letter to the cushion. Mother said that would be the best way."

They had scarcely reached home and put the mare in the barn before back
came the old wheels, and the Doctor's broad good-natured face. Jimmy
had to turn around he felt so much like laughing.

It was not more than twenty minutes before there was a loud call at the
front porch.

"Jimmy Dodge, Jimmy Dodge!"

The good Doctor was sitting in the buggy, wiping his eyes and laughing
at the same time. "I tell my wife," he said to Mrs. Dodge, "that the
millennium has begun, there are so many good people in the world." Then
he shook hands with Jimmy over and over again and went away leaving
the little boy very happy, and I don't think his money in the bank was
lessened by one penny.





*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The new buggy" ***


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