CHAPTER XXVII.
ABOUT LITERATURE AND LAW.
Five years had passed since Cuthbert Lloyd's name was first inscribed inthe big register on Dr. Johnston's desk, and he had been surely,steadily rising to the proud position of being the first boy in theschool, the "_dux_," as the doctor with his love for the classicspreferred to call it.
And yet there were some branches of study that he still seemed unable toget a good hold upon, or make satisfactory progress with. One of thesewas algebra. For some reason or other, the hidden principles of thispuzzling science eluded his grasp, as though a and x had been eels ofphenomenal activity. He tried again and again to pierce the obscuritythat enshrouded them, but at best with imperfect success; and it was astriking fact that he should, term after term, carry off the arithmeticprize by splendid scores, and yet be ingloriously beaten at algebra.
Another subject that became a great bugbear to him was what was known ascomposition. On Fridays the senior boys were required to bring anoriginal composition, covering at least two pages of letter paper, uponany subject they saw fit. This requirement made that day "black Friday"for Bert and many others besides. The writing of a letter or compositionis probably the hardest task that can be set before a schoolboy. It wassafe to say that in many cases a whipping would be gratefully preferred.But for the disgrace of the thing, Bert would certainly rather at anytime have taken a mild whipping than sit down and write an essay.
At the first, taking pity upon his evident helplessness, Mr. Lloyd gavehim a good deal of assistance, or allowed Mary--the ever-willing andever-helpful Mary--to do so. But after a while he thought Bert shouldrun alone, and prohibited further aid. Thus thrown upon his ownresources, the poor fellow struggled hard, to very little purpose. Evenwhen his father gave him a lift to the extent of suggesting a goodtheme, he found it almost impossible to write anything about it.
One Friday he went without having prepared a composition. He hoped thatDr. Johnston would just keep him in after school for a while, or givehim an "imposition" of fifty lines of Virgil to copy as a penalty, andthat that would be an end of the matter. But, as it turned out, thedoctor thought otherwise. When Bert presented no composition he inquiredif he had any excuse, meaning a note from his father asking that he beexcused this time. Bert answered that he had not.
"Then," said Dr. Johnston, sternly, "you must remain in after schooluntil your composition is written."
Bert was a good deal troubled by this unexpected penalty, but there wasof course no appeal from the master's decision. The school hours passed,three o'clock came, and all the scholars save those who were kept in forvarious shortcomings went joyfully off to their play, leaving the big,bare, dreary room to the doctor and his prisoners. Then one by one, asthey met the conditions of their sentence, or made up their deficienciesin work, they slipped quietly away, and ere the old yellow-faced clocksolemnly struck the hour of four, Bert was alone with the grim andsilent master.
He had not been idle during that hour. He had made more than one attemptto prepare some sort of a composition, but both ideas and words utterlyfailed him. He could not even think of a subject, much less cover twopages of letter paper with comments upon it. By four o'clock despair hadsettled down upon him, and he sat at his desk doing nothing, and waitinghe hardly knew for what.
Another hour passed, and still Bert had made no start, and still thedoctor sat at his desk absorbed in his book and apparently quiteoblivious of the boy before him. Six o'clock drew near, and with it theearly dusk of an autumn evening. Bert was growing faint with hunger,and, oh! so weary of his confinement. Not until it was too dark to readany longer did Dr. Johnston move; and then, without noticing Bert, hewent down the room, and disappeared through the door that led into hisown apartments.
"My gracious!" exclaimed Bert, in alarm. "Surely he is not going toleave me here all alone in the dark. I'll jump out of the window if hedoes."
But that was not the master's idea, for shortly he returned with twocandles, placed one on either side of Bert's desk, then went to hisdesk, drew forth the long, black strap, whose cruel sting Bert had notfelt for years, and standing in front of the quaking boy, looking thevery type of unrelenting sternness, said:
"You shall not leave your seat until your composition is finished, andif you have not made a beginning inside of five minutes you may expectpunishment."
So saying, he strode off into the darkness, and up and down the longroom, now filled with strange shadows, swishing the strap against thedesks as he passed to and fro. Bert's feelings may be more easilyimagined than described. Hungry, weary, frightened, he grasped his penwith trembling fingers, and bent over the paper.
For the first minute or two not a word was written. Then, as if struckby some happy thought, he scribbled down a title quickly and paused. Ina moment more he wrote again, and soon one whole paragraph was done.
The five minutes having elapsed, the doctor emerged from the gloom andcame up to see what progress had been made. He looked over Bert'sshoulder at the crooked lines that straggled over half the page, but hecould not have read more than the title, when the shadows of the greatempty room were startled by a peal of laughter that went echoing throughthe darkness, and clapping the boy graciously upon his back, the mastersaid:
"That will do, Lloyd. The title is quite sufficient. You may go now;"for he had a keen sense of humour and a thorough relish of a joke, andthe subject selected by Bert was peculiarly appropriate, being"Necessity is the Mother of Invention."
Mr. Lloyd was so delighted with Bert's ingenuity that thenceforth hegave him very effective assistance in the preparation of his weeklyessays, and they were no longer the bugbear that they had been.
It was not long after this that Bert had an experience with the law notless memorable.
In an adjoining street, there lived a family by the name of Dodson, thatpossessed a very large, old, and cross Newfoundland dog, which had, byits frequent exhibitions of ill-temper, become quite a nuisance to theneighbourhood. They had often been spoken to about their dog's readinessto snap at people, but had refused to chain him up, or send him away,because they had a lively aversion to small boys, and old Lion wascertainly successful in causing them to give the Dodson premises a wideberth.
One afternoon Bert and Frank were going along the street playing catchwith a ball the former had just purchased, when, as they passed theDodson house, a wild throw from Frank sent the ball out of Bert's reach,and it rolled under the gate of the yard. Not thinking of the irascibleLion in his haste to recover the ball, Bert opened the gate, and themoment he did so, with a fierce growl the huge dog sprang at him andfastened his teeth in his left cheek.
Bert shrieked with fright and pain, and in an instant Frank was besidehim, and had his strong hands tight round Lion's throat. Immediately theold dog let Bert go, and slunk off to his kennel, while Frank, seizinghis handkerchief, pressed it to the ugly wound in Bert's cheek. Greatthough the pain was, Bert quickly regained his self-possession, andhastening home had his wounds covered with plaster. Fortunately, theywere not in any wise serious. They bled a good deal, and they promisedto spoil his beauty for a time at least, but, as there was no reason tosuppose that the dog was mad, that was the worst of them.
Mr. Lloyd was very much incensed when he saw Bert's injuries, and heardfrom him and Frank the particulars of the affair. He determined to makeone more appeal to the Dodsons to put the dog away, and if that wereunsuccessful, to call upon the authorities to compel them to do so.
"With a fierce growl the huge dog sprang at him, andfastened his teeth in his left cheek."--_Page_ 292.]
Another person who was not less exercised about it was Michael, the manof all work. He was very fond and proud of the young master, as hecalled Bert, and that a dog should dare to put his teeth into him filledhim with righteous wrath. Furthermore, like many of his class, he firmlybelieved in the superstition that unless the dog was killed at once,Bert would certainly go mad. Mr. Lloyd laughed at him good-humouredlywhen he earnestly ad
vocated the summary execution of Lion, and refusedto have anything to do with it. But the faithful affectionate fellow wasnot to be diverted from his purpose, and accordingly the next nightafter the attack, he stealthily approached the Dodson yard from therear, got close to old Lion's kennel, and then threw down before hisvery nose a juicy bit of beefsteak, in which a strong dose of poison hadbeen cunningly concealed. The unsuspecting dog took the tempting bait,and the next morning lay stiff and stark in death, before his kenneldoor.
When the Dodsons found their favourite dead, they were highly enraged;and taking it for granted that either Mr. Lloyd or some one in hisinterest or his employ was guilty of Lion's untimely demise, Mr. Dodson,without waiting to institute inquiries, rushed off to the City PoliceCourt, and lodged a complaint against the one who he conceived was theguilty party.
Mr. Lloyd was not a little surprised when, later in the morning, ablue-coated and silver-buttoned policeman presented himself at hisoffice, and, in the most respectful manner possible, served upon him asummons to appear before the magistrate to answer to a complaint made byone Thomas Dodson, who alleged that he "had with malice prepense andaforethought killed or caused to be killed a certain Newfoundland dog,the same being the property of the said Thomas Dodson, and therebycaused damage to the complainant, to the amount of one hundred dollars."
So soon as Mr. Lloyd read the summons, which was the first intimation hehad had of Lion's taking off, he at once suspected who was the realcriminal. But of course he said nothing to the policeman beyond assuringhim that he would duly appear to answer to the summons.
That evening he sent for Michael, and without any words of explanationplaced the summons in his hand. The countenance of the honest fellow ashe slowly read it through and took in its import was an amusing study.Bewilderment, surprise, indignation, and alarm were in turn expressed inhis frank face, and when he had finished he stood before Mr. Lloydspeechless, but looking as though he wanted to say: "What will you beafter doing to me now, that I've got you into such a scrape?"
Assuming a seriousness he did not really feel, Mr. Lloyd looked hard atMichael, as he asked:
"Do you know anything about this?"
Michael reddened, and dropped his eyes to the ground, but answered,unhesitatingly:
"I do, sir. It was meself that gave the old brute the dose of medicinethat fixed him."
"But, Michael," said Mr. Lloyd, with difficulty restraining a smile, "itwas not right of you to take the law into your own hands in that way.You knew well enough that I could not approve of it."
"I did, indeed, sir," answered Michael, "but," lifting up his head ashis warm Irish heart stirred within him, "I couldn't sleep at night forthinking of what might happen to the young master if the dog weren'tkilled; and, so unbeknownst to anybody, I just slipped over the fence,and dropped him a bit of steak that I knew he would take to kindly. I'mvery sorry, sir, if I've got you into any trouble, but sure can't youjust tell them that it was Michael that did the mischief, and then theywon't bother you at all."
"No, no, Michael. I'm not going to do that. You meant for the best whatyou did, and you did it for the sake of my boy, so I will assume theresponsibility; but I hope it will be a lesson to you not to take thelaw into your own hands again. You see it is apt to have awkwardconsequences."
"That's true, sir," assented Michael, looking much relieved at thisconclusion. "I'll promise to be careful next time, but--" pausing amoment as he turned to leave the room--"it's glad I am that that crossold brute can't have another chance at Master Bert, all the same." Andhaving uttered this note of triumph, he made a low bow and disappeared.
Mr. Lloyd had a good laugh after the door closed upon him.
"He's a faithful creature," he said, kindly; "but I'm afraid hisfidelity is going to cost me something this time. However, I won't makehim unhappy by letting him know that."
The trial was fixed for the following Friday, and that day Bert wasexcused from school in order to be present as a witness. His scars werehealing rapidly, but still presented an ugly enough appearance to makeit clear that worthy Michael's indignation was not without cause.
Now, this was the first time that Bert had ever been inside acourt-room; and, although his father was a lawyer, the fact that he madea rule never to carry his business home with him had caused Bert to growup in entire ignorance of the real nature of court proceedings. The onlytrials that had ever interested him being those in which the life orliberty of the person most deeply concerned was at stake, he hadnaturally formed the idea that all trials were of this nature, andconsequently regarded with very lively sympathy the defendants of acouple of cases that had the precedence of "Dodson _v._ Lloyd."
Feeling quite sure that the unhappy individuals who were called upon todefend themselves were in a very evil plight, he was surprised andshocked at the callous levity of the lawyers, and even of themagistrate, a small-sized man, to whom a full grey beard, a pair ofgold-bowed spectacles, and a deep voice imparted an air of dignity hewould not otherwise have possessed. That they should crack jokes witheach other over such serious matters was something he could notunderstand, as with eyes and ears that missed nothing he observed allthat went on around him.
At length, after an hour or more of waiting, the case of "Dodson _v._Lloyd" was called, and Bert, now to his deep concern, beheld his fatherin the same position as had been the persons whom he was just pitying;for the magistrate, looking, as Bert thought, very stern, called uponhim to answer to the complaint of Thomas Dodson, who alleged, &c., &c.,&c.
Mr. Lloyd pleaded his own cause, and it was not a very heavyundertaking, for the simple reason that he made no defence beyondstating that the dog had been poisoned by his servant without hisknowledge or approval, and asking that Bert's injuries might be takeninto account in mitigation of damages. The magistrate accordingly askedBert to go into the witness-box, and the clerk administered the oath,Bert kissing the greasy, old Bible that had in its time been touched bymany a perjured lip, with an unsophisticated fervour that brought out asmile upon the countenances of the spectators.
He was then asked to give his version of the affair. Naturally enough,he hesitated a little at first, but encouraged by his father's smiles,he soon got over his nervousness, and told a very plain, straightforwardstory. Mr. Dodson's lawyer, a short, thick man with a nose like aparoquet's, bushy, black whiskers, and a very obtrusive pair ofspectacles, then proceeded, in a rough, hard voice, to try his best todraw Bert into admitting that he had been accustomed to tease the dog,and to throw stones at him. But although he asked a number of questionsbeginning with a "Now, sir, did you not?" or, "Now, sir, can you denythat?" &c., uttered in very awe-inspiring tones, he did not succeed inshaking Bert's testimony in the slightest degree, or in entrapping himinto any disadvantageous admission.
At first Bert was somewhat disconcerted by the blustering, brow-beatingmanner of the lawyer, but after a few questions his spirits rose to theoccasion, and he answered the questions in a prompt, frank, fearlessfashion, that more than once evoked a round of applause from thelookers-on. He had nothing but the truth to tell and his cross-examinerere long came to the conclusion that it was futile endeavouring to gethim to tell anything else; and so, with rather bad grace, he gave it up,and said he might go.
Before leaving the witness-box Bert removed the bandages from hischeek, and exhibited the marks of the dog's teeth to the magistrate, thesight of which, together with the boy's testimony, made such animpression upon him that he gave as his decision that he would dismissthe case if Mr. Lloyd would pay the costs, which the latter very readilyagreed to do; and so the matter ended--not quite to the satisfaction ofMr. Dodson, but upon the whole in pretty close accordance with thestrict principles of right and justice.
Michael was very greatly relieved when he heard the result, for he hadbeen worrying a good deal over what he feared Mr. Lloyd might suffer inconsequence of his excess of zeal.
"So they got nothing for their old dog, after all," he exclaimed, inhigh glee. "Well, the
y got as much as he was worth at all events,and"--sinking his voice to a whisper--"between you and me, Master Bert,if another dog iver puts his teeth into you, I'll be after givin' himthe same medicine, so sure as my name's Michael Flynn."
Bert Lloyd's Boyhood: A Story from Nova Scotia Page 28