CHAPTER XXXII.
A BOY NO LONGER.
Frank and Bert put their hearts into the city mission work, just as theydid into everything else that they undertook, and it was well they did.For surely nothing save genuine zeal, and fidelity to a strong purposecould have carried them through the experiences that awaited them. Themission school was still small and struggling. But for the almost heroicenergies of its superintendent, a clerk in a city banking house, itcould not have been carried on at all. He was a small, slight,fragile-looking man, but he had a heart big enough for a giant, andhaving consecrated his spare hours to this most unattractive of allphases of Christian work, he carried it on with a self-denyingearnestness that no difficulties could dampen, nor obstacles appal. Hewas as ready with his purse, to the extent of its slender ability, as hewas with his Bible, and his splendid unselfishness was so wellappreciated by the dangerous degraded beings among whom he toiled, thatalone and unprotected he might go among them at any hour of the day ornight, and meet with nothing but respect and rude courtesy.
Such a man was David McMaster, under whose direction Bert and Frank lostno time in placing themselves; and a right glad welcome they had fromhim, his pale, thin face fairly glowing with pleasure at the addition tohis force of two such promising recruits. With him they went the roundsof squalid tenements, hideous back alleys, and repulsive shanties, thetattered children gazing at them with faces in which curiosity wasmingled with aversion, and their frousy parents giving them looks ofenmity and mistrust, no doubt because they were so clean and welldressed.
But apparently noting nothing of this, Mr. McMaster led the way from onerookery to another, introducing his new workers to their wretchedinhabitants with an easy grace that disarmed all suspicion, and madethem feel that so long as he was the presiding genius of the school,they had nothing to fear in the worst locality.
The following Sunday morning they began work on their own account. Theschool was held at ten o'clock, closing just in time to permit theteachers to get to church, and the part assigned to Bert and Frank wasto go out into the highways and byways, and invite the children playingin the dirt to come to the school, or else to go to the homes, if suchthey could be called, of those whose names were already upon the roll,and secure their attendance at the service.
Then when the school opened they found plenty to do, distributing thehymn books, helping in the singing, keeping a sharp look-out for unrulybehaviour, watching the door lest any scholar should take it into hishead to bolt, insuring an equitable division of the picture papers, andso on until the hour came to close the school, and they turned theirsteps churchward, feeling with good reason that they had really beendoing work for God, and hard work, too.
They soon grew to love Mr. McMaster as much as they admired his zeal. Hewas in many ways a quaint, curious character. His body seemed so smalland insignificant, and his spirit so mighty. He knew neither fear nordespair in the prosecution of his chosen work, and it was impossible tobe associated with him without being infected by his unquenchableardour. For some time no special incident marked their work, and thenBert had an experience that might have brought his part with it to anend had he been made of less sturdy stuff.
In company with Mr. McMaster he was making the usual round previous tothe opening of the school, beating up unreliable scholars, and hadentered a damp, noisome alley, lined on either side with tumble-downapologies for houses. Mr. McMaster took one side and Bert the other, andthey proceeded to visit the different dwellers in this horrible place.Bert had knocked at several doors without getting any response, for thepeople were apt to lie in bed late on Sunday morning, and then hisattention was aroused by sounds of crying mingled with oaths, that camefrom the garret of a villainous-looking tenement. He could hear thevoices of a woman and of a child raised in entreaty and terror, andwithout pausing to consider the consequences, sprang up the brokenstairs to the room from which they issued.
On opening the door a scene presented itself that would have stirred thesympathies of a man of stone. Pat Brannigan, the big wharf labourer, haddevoted the greater portion of his week's wages to making himself andhis boon companions drunk with the vile rum dealt out at the groggeryhard by. At midnight he had stumbled home, and throwing himself upon hisbed sought to sleep off the effects of his carouse. Waking up late inthe morning with a raging headache, a burning tongue, and bloodshoteyes, he had become infuriated at his poor, little girl, that coweredtremblingly in a corner, because she would not go out and get him somemore drink. Half-crazed, and utterly reckless, he had sprung at thechild, and might have inflicted mortal injury upon her had not themother interposed, and kept him at bay for a moment, while she joinedher shrieks to those the girl was already uttering.
It was just at this moment that Bert entered the room. As quick as aflash he sprang to Pat Brannigan's side, and seized his arm now upliftedto strike down the unhappy wife. With a howl of rage the big bruteturned to see who had thus dared to interfere. He did not know Bert, andhis surprise at seeing a well-dressed stranger in the room made himhesitate a moment. Then with an oath he demanded:
"Who may you be, and what's your business here?"
Bert looked straight into his eyes, as he answered, quietly:
"I heard the noise, and I came in to see what was the matter."
"Then you can just be taking yourself off again as fast as you like,"growled the giant, fiercely.
Bert did not stir.
"Be off with you now. Do you hear me?" shouted Brannigan, raising hisclenched fist in a way there was no mistaking.
Still Bert did not move.
"Then take that," yelled Brannigan, aiming a terrible blow at the boy.But before it could reach him the poor wife, with a wild shriek, sprangin between them, and her husband's great fist descended upon her head,felling her to the floor, where she lay as though dead.
At this moment, Mr. McMaster rushed in through the open door. PatBrannigan knew him well, and when sober held him in profound respect.Even now his appearance checked his fury, and he stood swaying in thecentre of the room, looking with his bleared, bloodshot eyes, first atMr. McMaster, and then at the motionless heap upon the floor at hisfeet.
Advancing a step or two, Mr. McMaster looked into Brannigan's fieryface, and asked, sternly, as he pointed to the insensible woman lyingbetween them:
"Is that your work?"
The giant quailed before the fearless, condemning glance of the man whoseemed like a pigmy beside him. His head fell upon his breast, andwithout attempting a reply, he slunk over to the other end of the room,flung himself into a chair, and buried his face in his hands.
"Come, Bert, let us lift her up on the bed," said Mr. McMaster, andbetween them Mrs. Brannigan was lifted gently, and placed upon themiserable bed.
"Now, Katie, get us some cold water, quick," said he, turning to thelittle girl, who watched him with wondering eyes. As if glad to get outof the room, she sped away, and presently returned with a tin of water,with which Mr. McMaster tenderly bathed Mrs. Brannigan's forehead, andsoon the poor sufferer recovered consciousness. Mr. McMaster and Bertthen went away, the former promising to look in again after school wasover, and see if further help might be required.
When Bert told of the morning's experience at home, his mother becamevery much agitated, and seemed strongly inclined to oppose hiscontinuing the work. But Mr. Lloyd was not of the same opinion at all.He thought it a very admirable training for Bert, and Bert himself hadno disposition to give it up. Accordingly, he went on as though nothinghad happened, meeting with many discouragements, and few real successes,yet sustained by a steady impulse to willing service, strengthened by areal interest in the work itself.
The days of Bert's boyhood were rapidly passing by. The time wasapproaching for him to enter college, and once enrolled as anundergraduate he could of course be counted a boy no longer. Not indeedthat he was growing old in the sense of becoming too prim or particularto indulge in boyish sports and pranks. There was nothing premature inhis devel
opment. He was in advance of many boys of his age, it is true,but that was only because he strove to be.
He was not content unless he stood among the leaders, whether in studyor sport. He looked forward to college with ardent expectation. Eversince the days of Mr. Garrison's school he had been accustomed to seethe students in their Oxford caps and flowing black gowns going to andfrom the university which had its home in a handsome free-stone buildingthat stood right in the heart of the city, and he had felt impatient forthe time to come when he might adopt the same odd and striking costume.
During the past year his studies had been directed with specialreference to the matriculation examination. As regards the classics, hecould not have had a better teacher than Dr. Johnston, and his progressin knowledge of them had been sure and steady. In mathematics, however,he was hardly up to the mark, partly because they were not taught withthe same enthusiasm at Dr. Johnston's, and partly because he did nottake to them very kindly himself. Mr. Lloyd accordingly thought it wiseto engage a tutor who would give him daily lessons during the mid-summerholidays.
Bert, as was quite natural, did not altogether relish the idea ofmingling work with play in this fashion in the glorious summer weatherwhen the days seemed all too short for the enjoyment that was to be had;but when Frank, who was of course to go to college also, enteredheartily into the plan, and Mr. Scott, the tutor, proved to be a veryable and interesting instructor, full of enthusiasm about theuniversity, in which he was one of the most brilliant students, Bert'sindifference soon disappeared, and the three lads--for Mr. Scott wasstill in his teens--had a fine time together that summer, studying hardfor two hours each morning, and spending the rest of the day in boating,or cricket, or some other pleasant fashion.
As the heat of summer yielded to the cool breezes of autumn, and thetime for the opening of the college drew near, Bert grew very excited.There were two scholarships offered at each matriculation examination,one open to those coming from the city, the other to those from thecountry. He had fixed his ambition upon the city scholarship, anddetermined to do his best to win it. He had caught some of his tutor'senthusiasm, and fully appreciated the importance of a brilliantbeginning. Accordingly, he gave diligent heed to the good advice Mr.Scott delighted to give him, as well as to the studies he set for him,and looked forward hopefully to the approaching examination.
Toward the end of October the examination took place. It was the boys'first experience of a written examination, and it is little wonder ifthey felt nervous about it.
With Mr. Scott as guide they made their way to the university building,where he led them along the echoing stone corridors to a door inscribed,"Library;" and then, wishing them the best of fortune, bade them enterand try their fate. They found themselves in a large bright room whosefloor was covered with desks, and the walls lined with bookcases, andhaving at one end a baize-covered table, around which sat severalspectacled gentlemen attired in long black gowns, and chatting busilywith one another. They took no notice of the two boys, who sat down atthe nearest desk, and awaited developments. They were the firstcandidates in the room, but others presently came in until more than ascore had gathered.
All evidently felt more or less nervous, although some tried very hardto appear unconcerned. They varied in age from Bert, who wasundoubtedly the youngest, to a long-bearded, sober-visaged Scotchman,who might almost have been his father; their appearance was as differentas their ages, some being spruce, well-dressed city lads, and others themost rustic-looking of youths, clad in rough homespun. They each satdown in the first seat they could find, and then stared about them as ifthey would like very much to know what was going to happen next.
They had not long to wait in uncertainty. A short, stout, pleasant-facedprofessor disengaged himself from the group at the table, and steppingup to the platform, said, in a smooth voice, with a strong Scotchaccent:
"If you are ready to begin, gentlemen, will you please arrangeyourselves so as to occupy only every alternate desk."
There was a little noise and bustle as this order was being carried out,and then they settled down again, with a vacant desk between each pairas a precaution against whispered assistance. The next proceeding was todistribute paper to the candidates, they being expected to supply theirown pens and ink. And then came what all were awaiting with beatingpulse--viz., the examination paper. Each one as he received his paperran his eye eagerly down the list of questions, his countenance growingbright or gloomy according as, to this hasty survey, the questionsseemed easy or difficult.
Bert scanned his list rapidly, gave a great sigh of relief, and thenturned to Frank with a meaning smile, which said more plainly thanwords:
"I'm all right."
Frank smiled back, in token that he was all right, too, and then the twoboys bent to their work.
They did not get along very fast at the start. It was their firstwritten examination, and this, added to their natural nervousness, keptboth their ideas and their ink from flowing freely. But after a fewminutes they forgot themselves in their eagerness to commit to paper theanswers to the questions before them, and for an hour or more theyscribbled away until the first paper, which was upon the classics, hadnothing unanswered left upon it.
Bert finished first, and the professor, noticing him unemployed, broughthim another paper, this time the mathematical one. As he expected, hedid not do quite as well with it. But he felt sure of being right in hisanswers to six out of the ten questions, and very hopeful about twoothers, so that altogether he was well satisfied.
The third and last paper was upon the English branches--history,grammar, geography, and so forth, and he polished this off with littledifficulty, making a clean sweep of the dozen questions. All this tookuntil after one o'clock, and when he laid down his pen with his taskfinished, he felt pretty tired, and anxious to get out and stretchhimself. Frank, however, was not quite through, so he waited for him,and then the friends hurried off to compare notes, and estimate theirchances.
The results would not be declared for two days at least, and Bert foundit very hard to keep his impatience in check. He could think of nothingelse than those examinations. Having answered so many questions, he feltnot the slightest uneasiness as to passing; but the scholarship--ah!that was the point. Mr. Scott had made it very clear what an importantposition a scholarship winner held in his class. It gave him the lead atonce, and was in every way an honour to be highly coveted.
Well, the longest days have their ending, and the two days of exciteduncertainty dragged themselves past, and on Friday morning with a heartbeating like a trip hammer, Bert hastened to the university. The resultswould be posted up on a huge blackboard that hung in the centralcorridor, and on entering he found an eager crowd thronging about thisboard, through which he had some difficulty in making his way. But bydint of pushing and elbowing, he soon got near enough to make out whatwas written on the long sheets of paper that occupied the centre of theboard, and then--how shall be described the bound of wild delight hisheart gave, when he read: "_The City Scholarship_--CUTHBERT LLOYD."
Then underneath the word "_Passed_," in large letters, the name"CUTHBERT LLOYD," and a few names lower down "FRANK BOWSER," whilebelow them were the rest of the candidates.
Frank was beside him, and by a common impulse of joy the two friendsthrew their arms about each other, and hugged one another like twoenthusiastic young bears. Then they ran off as fast as their legs couldcarry them to tell the good news.
There was not a happier, prouder family in all Acadia that night thanthe Lloyds. Mr. Bowser and Frank came in to exchange congratulations,and they rejoiced together over the boys' success. Mr. Bowser was asdelighted over Frank's passing as Mr. Lloyd was over Bert's scholarship.Like many men of defective education, he had very vague views aboutcollege. It was all a mystery to him, and that Frank, whom he was justfinding out to be something more than a boy, should so easily penetratethese mysteries, and take a good place among the candidates foradmission, was a source of unbounded satisfacti
on to him.
After the first exuberance of joy had subsided, the conversation sobereddown somewhat, and they began to talk about the future.
"Now, young gentlemen--for I suppose I dare not call you boys anylonger," said Mr. Lloyd, smilingly--"you should soon be making up yourminds as to what part in life you intend to take, because, once you havedecided, your studies at college should be carried on with that end inview. Don't you think so, Mr. Bowser?"
"I most certainly do, sir," replied Mr. Bowser, promptly.
"Well, of course, it is not a question to be decided off hand,"continued Mr. Lloyd," nor one which we should decide for you, unless youturn it over to us. So we will leave it with you for a while, if youlike."
"I don't think that's necessary, father," spoke up Bert. "Frank and Ihave pretty well made up our minds already--that is, of course, if thereis no objection."
"And what is your choice, Frank?" asked Mr. Lloyd.
"I would like to follow my father's business, if he will have me, sir,"answered Frank, giving his father a look of inquiry.
Mr. Bowser's face flushed with pleasure. He rose from his chair, andcrossing the room to where his son sat, he put his big hand upon hisshoulder, and said, in his heartiest tones:
"Ay--that I will, my lad, and all that I have shall be yours when I amgone."
"I hope that won't be for a long time yet, father," said Frank, lookingup affectionately into his father's beaming face.
"So do I, my boy, so do I; but when it does happen, God knows what acomfort it will be to me to leave such a son behind me." And the tearsslipped down his broad cheeks as he went back to his chair.
There was a moment's silence, for all had been affected by this touchinglittle scene; and then, Mr. Lloyd, turning to Bert, inquired of him:
"And what is your choice, Bert?"
"Well, father, if you think I can ever become fit for it, I would liketo be a minister," he answered, modestly.
It was now Mr. Lloyd's turn to become radiant.
"My darling boy, you could not have delighted me more," he cried. "Ithas been my desire and prayer for you, that this should be your choice,but I have said nothing to you, because I wanted you to be perfectlyfree and unbiassed by any thought of pleasing me. I see clearly now thatthis is the Lord's doing, and my heart is full to overflowing with joy.God bless you both, my boys. I am sure that the hope and prayer of usall is that in your manhood may be fulfilled the promise of your boyhoodthat has been so bright, and to which you have now bidden farewell."
THE END.
LORIMER AND GILLIES, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.
Bert Lloyd's Boyhood: A Story from Nova Scotia Page 33