Bert Lloyd's Boyhood: A Story from Nova Scotia

by Madeline Leslie

  CHAPTER XII.

  A QUESTION OF INFLUENCE.

  When Mr. Lloyd heard the story of Bert's "meeching," it was evident thatit hurt him sorely. He was quite prepared for a reasonable amount ofwaywardness in his boy, but this seriously exceeded his expectations. Hecould not, of course, put himself exactly in Bert's place, and he wasinclined to think him guilty of far more deliberate wrong than poor Berthad for a moment contemplated.

  Then, again, he was much puzzled as to what should be done withreference to Frank Bowser. He had evidently been Bert's tempter, andBert ought, perhaps, to be forbidden to have any more to do with himthan he could possibly help. On the other hand, if Bert were to beinterdicted from the companionship of his schoolmates, how would he everlearn to take care of himself among other dangerous associations? Thiswas a lesson he must learn some day. Should he not begin now?

  So Mr. Lloyd was not a little bewildered, and his talk with Bert didnot give him much light; for while Bert, of course, was thoroughlypenitent and ready to promise anything, what he had to tell about Frankwas simply how good-natured and generous and plucky he was, and soforth.

  The three of them, father, mother, and sister, held a consultation overthe matter that night after Bert had gone to bed.

  "I wish I felt more sure as to what is the wisest thing to do," said Mr.Lloyd. "We can't keep Bert in a glass case, and yet it seems as if weshould do our best to protect him from every evil influence. I wouldlike to know more about that Bowser boy."

  "Bert tells me he has no mother," said Mrs. Lloyd, in sympathetic tones,"and from what he says himself, his father does not seem to take muchinterest in him. Poor boy! he cannot have much to help him at thatrate."

  "He's a good, sturdy little chap," put in Mary. "He came down fromschool with Bert one day. He seems very fond of him."

  "Well, what had we better do?" asked Mr. Lloyd. "Forbid Bert to make acompanion of him, or say nothing about it, and trust Bert to come outall right?"

  "I feel as though we ought to forbid Bert," answered Mrs. Lloyd. "FrankBowser's influence cannot help him much, and it may harm him a gooddeal."

  "Suppose you put that the other way, mother," spoke up Mary, her faceflushing under the inspiration of the thought that had just occurred toher. "Frank Bowser has no help at home, and Bert has. Why, then, not saythat Bert's influence cannot harm Frank, and it may help him a gooddeal?"

  "Mary, my dear," exclaimed Mr. Lloyd, bending over to pat heraffectionately on the shoulder, "that's a brilliant idea of yours.You're right. Bert should help Frank, and not let Frank harm him. Wemust make Bert understand that clearly, and then there will be nothingto fear."

  And so the consultation closed, with Mary bearing off the honours ofhaving made the best suggestion.

  It was acted upon without delay. Calling Bert to him next morning whilethey were awaiting breakfast, Mr. Lloyd laid the matter before him:

  "Bert," said he, kindly, "we were talking about you last night, andwondering whether we ought to forbid your making a companion of FrankBowser. What do you think?"

  "Oh, father, don't do that," answered Bert, looking up with a startledexpression. "He's been so good to me. You remember how he served BobBrandon for shoving me down in class?"

  "Yes, Bert; but I'm afraid he's leading you into mischief, and that isnot the sort of companion I want for you."

  Bert dropped his head again. He had no answer ready this time.

  "But then there are always two sides to a question, Bert," continued Mr.Lloyd, while Bert pricked up his ears hopefully. "Why should you nothelp Frank to keep out of mischief, instead of his leading you into it?What do you say to that?"

  Bert did not seem quite to understand, so his father went on:

  "Don't you see, Bert? You must either help Frank to be better, or hewill cause you to be worse. Now, which is it to be?"

  Bert saw it clearly now.

  "Why, father," he cried, his face beaming with gladness at this new turnto the situation, "I'll do my best to be a good boy, and I know Shortywill, too, for he always likes to do what I do."

  "Very well then, Bert," said Mr. Lloyd, "that's a bargain. And now,suppose you invite Frank, or 'Shorty,' as you call him, to spend nextSaturday afternoon with you, and take tea with us."

  "Oh, father, that will be splendid," cried Bert, delightedly. "We cancoast in the fort all the afternoon and have fun in the evening. I'msure Shorty will be so glad to come."

  The question thus satisfactorily settled, Bert took his breakfast, andwent off to school in high glee and great impatience to see Frank, forthe invitation he bore for him fairly burned in his mouth, so to speak.

  As he expected, Frank needed no pressing to accept it. He did not getmany invitations, poor chap! and the prospect of an afternoon at Bert'shome seemed very attractive to him. He did enjoy himself thoroughly,too, even if he was so shy and awkward that Mrs. Lloyd and Mary wereafraid to say very much to him; he seemed to find it so hard to answerthem.

  But Mr. Lloyd got on much better with him. Although his boyhood was agood way in the past, he kept its memories fresh, and could enterheartily into the discussion of any of the sports the younger generationdelighted in. He knew all the phrases peculiar to baseball, cricket,marbles, and so forth, and fairly astonished Frank by his intimateknowledge of those amusements, so that ere long Frank, without knowingjust how it happened, was chatting away as freely as though he were outon the Garrison playground instead of being in Mr. Lloyd's parlour.

  Having once got him well started, Mr. Lloyd led him on to talk abouthimself and his home, and his way of spending his time, and thus learneda great deal more about him than he had yet known. One fact that helearned pointed out a way in which Bert's influence could be exerted forgood at once. Frank attended no Sunday school. He went to churchsometimes, but not very often, as his father took little interest inchurch-going, but he never went to Sunday school; in fact, he had notbeen there for years. Mr. Lloyd said nothing himself on the subject toFrank. He thought it better to leave it all to Bert.

  After Frank had gone, leaving behind him a very good impression upon thewhole, Mr. Lloyd told Bert of the opportunity awaiting him.

  "Wouldn't you like to ask Frank to go with you to Sunday school, Bert?"he inquired.

  "Of course, I would, father," replied Bert, promptly; "and I'm sure he'dgo, too, and that Mr. Silver would be very glad to have him in ourclass."

  When Bert, however, came to talk to Frank about it, he found him notquite so willing to go as he had been to accept the invitation forSaturday.

  "I'm not anxious to go to Sunday school, Bert," said he. "I shan't knowanybody there but you, and it'll be awfully slow."

  "But you'll soon get to know plenty of people," urged Bert; "and Mr.Silver is so nice."

  And so they argued, Frank holding back, partly because his shyness madehim shrink from going into a strange place, and partly because, havingbeen accustomed to spend his Sunday afternoons pretty much as hepleased, he did not like the idea of giving up his liberty. But Bert wastoo much in earnest to be put off. The suggestion of his father that heshould try to do Frank some good had taken strong hold upon his mind,and he urged, and pleaded, and argued until, at last, Frank gave way,and promised to try the Sunday school for a while, at any rate.

  Bert reported the decision at home with much pride and satisfaction. Hehad no doubt that when once Frank found out what a pleasant place theSunday school was, and how kind and nice Mr. Silver--his teacherthere--was, he would want to go every Sunday.

  The Sunday school of Calvary Baptist Church certainly had about aspleasant and cheery quarters as could be desired. For one thing, it wasnot held in a damp, dark, unventilated basement as so many Sundayschools are.

  And, oh, what a shame--what an extraordinary perversion of sense thiscondemning of the children to the cellars of the churches is! Just asthough anything were good enough for them, when in them lies the hope ofthe Church, and every possible means should be employed to twine theiryoung affections about i
t! But these words do not apply to the CalvarySunday School, for it was not held in a dingy basement, but in aseparate building that united in itself nearly every good quality suchan edifice should possess. It was of ample size, full of light and air,had free exposure to the sunshine, and was so arranged that everyconvenience was offered for the work of the school. Around the centralhall were arranged rooms for the Bible classes, the infant class, andthe library, so planned that by throwing up sliding doors they becamepart of the large room. The walls were hung with pictures illustratingBible scenes, and with mottoes founded upon Bible texts; and finally,the benches were of a special make that was particularly comfortable.

  All this was quite a revelation to Frank when, after some littlecoaxing, Bert brought him to the school. His conception of a Sundayschool was of going down into a gloomy basement, and being lecturedabout the Bible by a severe old man with a long grey beard. Instead ofthat, he found himself in one of the brightest rooms he had ever seen,and receiving a cordial welcome from a handsome young gentleman, to whomBert had just said:

  "This is my friend Frank, Mr. Silver. He's going to come to school withme after this."

  "Very glad indeed to have you, Frank," said Mr. Silver, giving him awarm grasp of the hand. "Sit right down with Bert, and make yourself athome."

  And Frank sat down, so surprised and pleased with everything as to behalf inclined to wonder if he was not dreaming. Then the fine singing,as the whole school, led by an organ and choir, burst forth into song,the bright pleasant remarks of the superintendent, Mr. Hamilton, Bert'sideal of a "Christian soldier," and the simple earnest prayeroffered,--all impressed Frank deeply.

  No less interesting did he find Mr. Silver's teaching of the lesson. Mr.Silver attached great importance to his work in the Sunday school.Nothing was permitted to interfere with thorough preparation for it, andhe always met his class brimful of information, illustration, andapplication, bearing upon the passage appointed for the day. And notonly so, but by shrewd questioning and personal appeal he sent theprecious words home to his young hearers and fixed them deep in theirmemories. He was a rare teacher in many respects, and Bert was very fondof him. Frank did not fail to be attracted by him. As he and Bert leftthe school together, Bert asked:

  "Well, Frank, how do you like my Sunday school?"

  "First rate," replied Frank, heartily. "Say, but isn't Mr. Silver nice?Seems as though I'd known him for ever so long instead of just to-day."

  "Guess he is nice," said Bert. "He's just the best teacher in theschool. You'll come every Sunday now, won't you, Frank?"

  "I think so," answered Frank; "I might just as well be going there asloafing about on Sunday afternoon doing nothing."

  Mr. Lloyd was very much pleased when he heard of Bert's success ingetting Frank to the Sunday school. He recognised in Bert many of thosequalities which make a boy a leader among his companions, and his desirewas that his son's influence should always tell for that which wasmanly, pure, and upright. To get him interested in recruiting for theSunday school was a very good beginning in church work, and Mr. Lloydfelt thankful accordingly.

  Neither was he alone in feeling pleased and thankful. Mr. John Bowser,Frank's father, although he showed great indifference to both theintellectual and moral welfare of his boy, was, nevertheless, notopposed to others taking an interest in him. He cared too little abouteither church or Sunday school to see that Frank was a regularattendant. But he was very willing that somebody else should take aninterest in the matter. Moreover, he felt not a little complacency overthe fact that his son was chosen as a companion by Lawyer Lloyd's son.Engrossed as he was in the making of money, a big, burly, gruff,uncultured contractor, he found time somehow to acquire a great respectfor Mr. Lloyd. He thought him rather too scrupulous and straightforwarda man to be _his_ lawyer, but he admired him greatly, nevertheless; and,although he said nothing about it, secretly congratulated himself uponthe way things were going. He had little idea that the circle ofinfluence Bert had unconsciously started would come to include himbefore its force would be spent.