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Ebook has 256 lines and 9860 words, and 6 pages
The Pearl of Charity.
ORFORD BOYS.
"WHAT are you looking for, Frank?" called out Lionel Trask to his school companion.
"I thought I dropped my slate-pencil," answered Frank, hesitating and growing very red.
"Looking for a slate-pencil in that high grass! That's a good joke! Come on, now; I'm going to the Common for a game of base ball."
"I wish I could," muttered Frank, speaking to himself, "but I can't, no," he added, in a louder voice. "I haven't the time." And away he ran without giving himself opportunity to be tempted.
"Hurrah, boys! That's cool," exclaimed Lionel.
But as there were no boys near to answer, he satisfied himself by a long whistle to the tune of "Dan Tucker."
Frank darted off down the street, and presently leaped a wall without touching it, and hurried across a well-trodden path to a cottage on the opposite corner of the field.
Frank Jocelyn was an active, handsome lad of thirteen summers. He was tall of his age, and expert at all the games that boys love. The side he was on was sure to beat at ball, and his kite always flew higher than that of any of his companions. Though the youngest in the "Orford Boys," the name of the Orford boat-club, yet he was accounted one of their best rowers.
But Frank had a great fault. He was proud, not exactly of his personal appearance, though he received praise enough for that to spoil him; but proud of being Frank Jocelyn, the smartest boy in Orford; proud of being the first scholar in his classes, and always at their head in spelling.
Two years before this time, Frank's father was considered to be in as good circumstances as anybody in town except Squire Rawson, who owned the large farm beyond Cedar Hill. But most unfortunately, he endorsed his name on a note to oblige a neighbor. When the time for payment came, the neighbor was missing, and, of course, Mr. Jocelyn had to foot the bill.
It was a heavy loss, but he could have gone through with it, if he had not taken it so much to heart. The disappointment preyed on his spirits; he took cold, and could not readily throw it off. Fever followed, and in less than three months, he was sleeping his long sleep beneath the sods of his native valley.
When his business came to be examined, it was found to be in a bad condition, and his wife, instead of having a competence for herself and her two children, realized only a thousand dollars besides the house and farm where they lived.
Everybody sympathized with the widow, and was indignant at the fraud of their dishonest neighbor; but sympathy, though very soothing to the feelings, does not fill the mouths of the hungry.
Mrs. Jocelyn, after satisfying herself that the reports of the executor were true, made up her mind that she must earn her own bread. Whether she able to have butter with it remained to be proved.
Beside Frank, she had a daughter May, as sweet and fair a girl as one would wish to see. May was two years older than her brother, and loved him with all her heart.
Mrs. Jocelyn, after making and rejecting a number of plans, at last resolved that if she could take a few boarders to occupy her vacant rooms, and thus continue her children at school, she should be very grateful.
This was happily accomplished. The teacher of the high school, with his wife and one child became inmates of her family, and recommended her to their friends so earnestly that she had as many boarders as she could accommodate.
THE LOST CHAIN.
BUT notwithstanding all her pains, the widow found herself unable to meet her bills. Prices for every kind of groceries were so high, and the cost of fuel so dear, she feared she should be obliged to give up housekeeping. She confided her trouble to Mr. Monks, the teacher, who at once proposed to pay more for his rooms; and this gave her means to keep on for another year.
At the time our story opens, her funds had again become exhausted, and, but for her children, she would have sunk at once.
One day she succeeded in making some root beer so superior a quality that she resolved to offer it for sale at the store. It contained sassafras, yellow dock, and sarsaparilla, and was considered very conducive to health.
She succeeded to well in disposing of it that she used to sit up till a late hour brewing and bottling it, ready for Frank to carry to the store in the morning.
This he insisted on doing before any of his companions were out of bed, for he was ashamed to have it known that he was reduced to such an extremity.
It was Frank's business, also, to dig the roots for his mother, and it was for this purpose he was searching behind the rocks when his companion found him. To be sure, he did think he heard his pencil drop, and felt among the grass to find it, otherwise he would not have told Lionel; but he was a truthful boy, and the thought that he did not tell the whole truth made his face burn like fire.
The next morning, as soon as it was light, he was back by the rocks, and dug a fine basket of roots, enough to supply a week's demand.
Toward the close of the school, in the afternoon, Mr. Monks, the teacher, requested his pupils to give him their attention for a minute.
"I have met with a serious loss," he said. "I speak of it now, that if you hear of a watch chain with seals and key attached, you will claim it for me. I had it in the morning, but probably lost it during a walk I took across the fields by the rocks."
Lionel Trask started and colored violently as he glanced at Frank.
"I see you know something about it," remarked the teacher with a smile.
"No, sir, I,--I mean--I don't know--I only suspect."
"And what do you suspect?"
"I--I saw a boy behind the rocks yesterday afternoon. He was bending over as if he had picked up something; and when I asked him what he was looking for, he grew very red."
"Did he not answer?"
"Yes, sir! He said--I lost a slate-pencil.'"
"Is the boy present?"
"Yes, sir."
"I shall take it as a favor if he will rise."
Ever since Lionel began to speak, Frank's mind had been in a tumult. It was his first impulse to get up and indignantly deny that he had seen the chain; but then he must explain why he was in that place and what he had been searching for. This he was too proud to do, and now he sat still, painfully embarrassed.
This, of course, confirmed Lionel in his opinion that he had picked up the chain and concealed it.
Mr. Monks waited a few moments for the boy to rise, then said kindly:
"I do not believe I have one pupil who would willfully keep a chain found under such circumstances. Though the article was very valuable from having been the gift of a friend, now deceased, yet I would far rather lose it, than to suspect one who was not guilty. If any of you have a word to tell me in private, I shall remain in my desk half an hour after school."
When the scholars were dismissed, Lionel, with a hesitating glance at Frank, who stood, cap in hand, in the entry, walked straight up the aisle to the platform.
Frank, who had almost resolved to confide his explanation to his teacher, who was also his mother's and his own best friend, stopped short on seeing this, and saying to himself, "I can tell him better at home," was rushing away, when he heard the words:
"Impossible! I can never believe it!"
He darted a defiant glance toward the spot where his companion stood, and, with his head very erect, walked slowly away.
"A thief!" he exclaimed to himself. "Suspected as a thief! What would my father say if he were alive? What a precious scamp that Lionel must be! Why, I should never imagine such a thing of a companion. O, dear! I'm sick of life! A thief, indeed! But Mr. Monks knows me too well. I've handled hundreds of dollars of his money, for he always sends me to the bank with his checks. Of course, he said, 'Impossible!'"
Still he was rather angry with his teacher for even listening to Lionel's story, and, hearing a hasty step behind him, put on a haughty air of indifference.
"Frank, stop a minute," called out the gentleman.
He turned, and looked Mr. Monks full in the face.
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