The Boy Patriot by Edward Sylvester Ellis (ebook offline reader TXT) 📗

Mrs. Robertson and her son were sitting at their pleasant breakfast-table together.

"Blair," said the mother, "you want to be a patriot. Here is some work for you to do for your country. We must try to make a good American citizen out of Hal, and a good Christian at the same time. The poor fellow is deeply grateful to you, and you will have a powerful influence over him."

"I can't bear the English," said Blair warmly. "I don't like any foreigners, for that matter. It don't seem to me they are the right stuff to make American citizens out of. Give me the native-born Yankee, free and independent from37 his cradle upwards. That's my way of thinking."

Blair stood up as he spoke, and waved his knife in a manner more emphatic than elegant. A speech, one of his favorite speeches, seemed imminent. Blair did love to hear himself talk.

"My son, our question in life is not what we like, but what is duty. I think the laws of the kingdom of heaven should be the guide to every lover of his country. The voice of our Saviour is, 'Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.' 'The Spirit and the bride say, Come; and let him that heareth say, Come.' Every true Christian echoes the saying of St. Paul, 'I would to God that not only thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost and altogether such as I am, except these bonds.' So it should be with every favored citizen of our happy land.38 We should welcome the oppressed of every clime, and strive to make them worthy partakers of the blessings we enjoy. I do not like to hear you say you hate any nation. We are all of one blood, made in God's image."

"Dear mother," said Blair, "you are right; you are always right. How thankful I ought to be to have such a guide, and such a help in keeping my new resolutions. I want to do my duty even when it is hard for me. You shall see what a friend I will be to Hal. I mean to go out as soon as I have done breakfast, and see if I can look him up some steady work. I heard Old Jock say on Saturday he wanted a strong boy to help him handle his nets. I'll try to get the place for Hal."

Blair was as prompt to act as to plan. A half hour after breakfast was over he was standing by the cottage of an39 old fisherman and knocking for admittance.

It took all Blair's powers of persuasion to induce Jock to have any thing to do with what he called a "furriner." The case seemed well-nigh lost, when Blair mounted on a chair, and made a small speech in his best style for the benefit of his single auditor. Whether won over by its logic or through a sense of the honor thus conferred upon him, Jock agreed to Blair's proposition.

"The first speech I ever made to any purpose," thought Blair, as he walked rapidly along the shore, wending his way to Mrs. McKinstry's dwelling.

Hal had locked himself into his "castle," as the only way in which he could escape the merciless scolding of his voluble hostess. She seemed to consider every stain on the injured garments a blot on the shield of the English boy40 which no apologies could excuse or efface. Hal fairly fled before the enemy; and once safe in his own room, whistled so lustily as to drown all sound of the railing from without.

It was an unusually busy day with Mrs. McKinstry, or it is doubtful whether she would have allowed even this close to the skirmish, for she had a taste for such encounters. Blair however heard the dripping and swashing of water in the rear of the house as he went up the narrow stairway. The wide cap-border of Mrs. McKinstry was fanning backwards and forwards, as she bent with a regular motion over the tub in which her red arms were immersed. She gave one look at Blair as he went up to her lodger's room, but did not condescend even to exchange watchwords with him.

In answer to Blair's knock was returned a resolute "Who's there?"41

The reply set Hal's mind at ease, and the visitor was promptly admitted. Blair stated his business at once, but to his surprise he met with a blank refusal from Hal. He would not fall in with such a plan, not he. He would keep out of the water while there was any land left to stand on. He had had enough of plumping to the bottom, and coming up, ears singing, throat choking, and soul almost scared out of him. Better a crumb of bread and a morsel of cheese, than fatness and plenty earned in such a way.

It was hard for Blair to understand the nervous fear of drowning which had taken possession of poor Hal. Fairport boys could swim almost as soon as they could walk. They knew nothing of the helpless feeling of one who has the great deep under him, and is powerless to struggle in its waves.

But a few short days before, Blair42 would have pronounced Hal a coward, and left him in disdain. Now he stood silent for a moment, baffled and puzzled. "I'll teach you to swim, Hal," he said at length. "We'll try in shallow water first, where you couldn't drown, unless you wish to drown yourself. It is easy—just as easy as any thing, if you only know how. I'll come for you after school this evening, and we'll go up the creek, where the boys wont be about. I shouldn't wonder if you were to take to it like a fish."

The English boy looked into Blair's frank pleasant face, and the dogged expression passed from his own. He took Blair's hand as he said, "I'll try. You shall see what you can make out of me."

Before many weeks were over, Hal Hutchings was as good a swimmer as half the boys in Fairport. Old Jock no43 longer waded into the deep water to set his nets or push his boat ashore. He declared that Hal had scared the rheumatism out of his bones, and it was not likely to make bold to come back, if things went on as they seemed to promise.