CHAPTER XI.
NEW FRIENDS.
Mr. Converse had evidently thought that the only way for Peter to get onwas to make friends. But in this first year Peter did not made a singleone that could be really called such. His second summer broadened hisacquaintance materially, though in a direction which promised him littlelaw practice.
When the warm weather again closed the courts and galleries, and broughtan end to the concerts and theatres, Peter found time harder to kill,the more, because he had pretty well explored the city. Still he walkedmuch to help pass the time, and to get outside of his rooms into theair. For the same reason he often carried his book, after the heat ofthe day was over, to one of the parks, and did his reading there. Notfar from his office, eastwardly, where two streets met at an angle, wasa small open space too limited to be called a square, even if its shapehad not been a triangle. Here, under the shade of two very sickly trees,surrounded by tall warehouses, were a couple of benches. Peter sat heremany evenings smoking his pipe. Though these few square feet madeperhaps the largest "open" within half a mile of his office, the anglewas confined and dreary. Hence it is obvious there must have been someattraction to Peter, since he was such a walker, to make him preferspending his time there rather than in the parks not far distant Theattraction was the children.
Only a few hundred feet away was one of the most densely crowdedtenement districts of New York. It had no right to be there, for theland was wanted for business purposes, but the hollow on which it wasbuilt had been a swamp in the old days, and the soft land, and perhapsthe unhealthiness, had prevented the erection of great warehouses andstores, which almost surrounded it. So it had been left to the storageof human souls instead of merchandise, for valuable goods need carefulhousing, while any place serves to pack humanity. It was not a nicedistrict to go through, for there was a sense of heat and dirt, andsmell, and crowd, and toil and sorrow throughout. It was probably nonicer to live in, and nothing proved it better than the overflow of thechildren therefrom into the little, hot, paved, airless angle. Here theycould be found from five in the morning till twelve at night. Here, withguards set, to give notice of the approach of the children'sjoy-destroying Siva--otherwise the policeman--they played ball. Here"cat" and "one old cat" render bearable many a wilting hour for thelittle urchins. Here "Sally in our Alley" and "Skip-rope" made thelittle girls forget that the temperature was far above blood-heat. Hereof an evening, Peter smoked and watched them.
At first he was an object of suspicion, and the sport visibly ceasedwhen he put in an appearance. But he simply sat on one of the benchesand puffed his pipe, and after a few evenings they lost all fear of him,and went on as if he were not there. In time, an intercourse sprang upbetween them. One evening Peter appeared with a stick of wood, and as hesmoked, he whittled at it with a _real_ jack-knife! He was scrutinizedby the keen-eyed youngsters with interest at once, and before he hadwhittled long, he had fifty children sitting in the shape of asemicircle on the stone pavement, watching his doings with almostbreathless Interest. When the result of his work actually developed intoa "cat" of marvellous form and finish, a sigh of intense joy passedthrough the boy part of his audience. When the "cat" was passed over totheir mercies, words could not be found to express their emotions.Another evening, the old clothes-line that served for a jump-rope, afterhaving bravely rubbed against the pavement many thousand times in itsendeavor to lighten the joyless life of the little pack, finallysuccumbed, worn through the centre and quite beyond hope of furtherknotting. Then Peter rose, and going to one of the little shops thatsupplied the district, soon returned with a _real_ jump-rope, with_wooden handles!_ So from time to time, _real_ tops, _real_ dolls,_real_ marbles and various other _real_, if cheap, things, hitherto onlyenjoyed in dreams, or at most through home-made attempts, found theirway into the angle, and were distributed among the little imps. Theycould not resist such subtle bribery, and soon Peter was on as familiarand friendly a footing as he could wish. He came to know each by name,and was made the umpire in all their disputes and the confidant in alltheir troubles. They were a dirty, noisy, lawless, and godless littlecommunity, but they were interesting to watch, and the lonely fellowgrew to like them much, for with all their premature sharpness, theywere really natural, and responded warmly to his friendly overtures.
After a time, Peter tried to help them a little more than by mere smallgifts. A cheap box of carpenter's tools was bought, and under hissuperintendence, evenings were spent in the angle, in making variousarticles. A small wheel barrow, a knife-and-fork basket, a clock-bracketand other easy things were made, one at a time. All boys, and indeedsome girls, were allowed to help. One would saw off the end of a plank;another would rule a pencil line; the next would plane the plank down tothat line; the next would bore the holes in it; the next would screw itinto position; the next would sandpaper it The work went very slowly,but every one who would, had his share in it, while the rest sat andwatched. When the article was completed, lots were drawn for it, andhappy was the fortunate one who drew the magnificent prize in life'slottery!
Occasionally too, Peter brought a book with him, and read it aloud tothem. He was rather surprised to find that they did not take toSunday-school stories or fairy tales. Wild adventures in foreign landswere the most effective; and together they explored the heart of Africa,climbed the Swiss mountains, fought the Western Indians, and attemptedto discover the North Pole. They had a curious liking for torture,blood-letting, and death. Nor were they without discrimination.
"I guess that fellow is only working his jaw," was one little chap'scriticism at a certain point of the narrative of a well-known Africanexplorer, rather famous for his success in advertising himself. Again,"that's bully," was the comment uttered by another, when Peter, ratherthan refuse their request to read aloud, had been compelled to choosesomething in Macaulay's Essays, and had read the description of theBlack Hole of Calcutta, "Say, mister," said another, "I don't believethat fellow wasn't there, for he never could a told it like that, if hewasn't."
As soon as his influence was secure, Peter began to affect them in otherways. Every fight, every squabble, was investigated, and the blame putwhere it belonged. Then a mandate went forth that profanity was tocease: and, though contrary to every instinct and habit, cease it didafter a time, except for an occasional unconscious slip. "Sporadicswearing," Peter called it, and explained what it meant to the children,and why he forgave that, while punishing the intentional swearer withexclusion from his favor. So, too, the girls were told that to "poke"tongues at each other, and make faces, was but another way of swearing;"for they all mean that there is hate in your hearts, and it is thatwhich is wrong, and not the mere words or faces." He ran the risk ofbeing laughed at, but they didn't laugh, for something in his way oftalking to them, even when verging on what they called "goody-goody,"inspired them with respect.
Before many weeks of this intercourse, Peter could not stroll east fromhis office without being greeted with yells of recognition. The elders,too, gave him "good-evening" pleasantly and smiled genially. Thechildren had naturally told their parents about him of his wonderfulpresents, and great skill with knife and string.
"He can whittle anything you ask!"
"He knows how to make things you want!"
"He can tie a knot sixteen different kinds!"
"He can fold a newspaper into soldiers' and firemen's caps!"
"He's friends with the policeman!"
Such laudations, and a hundred more, the children sang of him to theirelders.
"Oh," cried one little four-year-old girl, voicing the unanimous feelingof the children, "Mister Peter is just shplendid."
So the elders nodded and smiled when they met him, and he was prettywell known to several hundred people whom he knew not.
But another year passed, and still no client came.
The Honorable Peter Stirling and What People Thought of Him Page 11